#uh I had what we call a crisis

[theflyingfeeling]

yes it's just me whining about the same thing for the billionth time, pls just scroll past nothing new to see here 👋

[tossawary]

I think it would be fun to do a "character swaps with older version of themselves" fic with Moshang. A post-canon Mobei-Jun who has been happily married for a while (probably at least 50 years old) accidentally touches some plot device artifact and time travels, swapping places with his 20ish-year-old self. Older MBJ wakes up in head disciple Shang Qinghua's bed where his younger self had been napping.

Younger MBJ lands in his own palace, where he is quickly found and fawned over by Older SQH, who can't help but think this MBJ is so cute. The System quickly confirms for Shang Qinghua that this situation has been sorted into a "multiple timelines" thing, so SQH doesn't have to worry about "protecting the timeline" by doing anything like hiding the fact that he's MBJ's husband. (So, there's an alternate timeline younger version of Airplane Bro now? He's just going to... ignore having an existential crisis about it. Yeah.)

Which is great because Older MBJ would not have thought about this at all as a potential issue. Older MBJ also thinks Younger SQH (Younger Airplane Bro) is incredibly cute and has no problem informing him that they're married in the future. Younger Airplane Bro is trying to figure what the fuck is happening, but he's having trouble thinking over the sound of how MBJ only became hotter: MBJ didn't get much taller, but he did get wider, heavier, more muscular, and hairier. Holy shit. Older MBJ doesn't even have any problems passionately kissing Younger SQH just to prove that they're married. And he smiles! He's so gentle and communicative! Comparatively!

("Luo Binghe is the Demon Emperor in my time," Older MBJ says. "Ah? Who's Luo Binghe?" Younger Airplane Bro lies very badly. "Hmmm, so you did know," Older MBJ says, and then makes some comment about LBH's husband that makes Younger SQH go, "HIS WHAT NOW?!")

Younger MBJ is trying to be cool, not really confused or scared, and Older SQH spoils him rotten by showing off the home that they're made together and how well the palace works to serve and defend MBJ. Linguang-Jun can't show up here because SQH will light him on fire if he shows his face. Younger MBJ doesn't even really like his SQH yet and is also struggling with how good Older SQH looks: a little taller, broader, relaxed and easygoing, answering all of his questions and explaining important things to him, dressed like a beloved demon lord's spouse, efficiently ordering everyone around. "Call me Gege," Older Shang Qinghua said with a wink, and it went straight to Younger MBJ's defenseless heart; he is developing new kinks immediately. Help him.

In the end, after a few days at most, they manage to switch Older and Younger MBJ back without too much issue. Older SQH is a little annoyed that his husband kissed an alternate timeline version of himself, but mostly because he sure would have liked that experience when he was only a disciple! Okay, SQH may have pet Younger MBJ's head and pinched his cheeks and hugged him and brushed his hair a little and shamelessly lavished him with good examples of human affection, but it's not the same!!!

Younger MBJ and Younger SQH in the alternate timeline are left in SQH's tiny head disciple house, completely flustered, sitting next to each other and barely able to look at each other. What. The. Fuck. Eventually, Shang Qinghua manages to say, "Uh, do you want to make out?" at the same time that Mobei-Jun says, "We should get married as soon as possible. Tomorrow."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Long Snake Moan 1

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Loki

Summary: your boss gives you a task you're not prepared for.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“I think it’s best it comes from you,” Tony pats your shoulder. You stare at him in disbelief. 

“Me?” You bat your eyes dumbly. “But I just... I’m just passing along the information--” 

“Look, sweetheart, I’m in the middle of a PR crisis here.” He flashes his phone screen at you. The talk of Stark Tower has been his latest disaster out in the middle of nowhere. Usually, these things are forgotten but an unfortunate post has made the rounds. “You delivered the message perfectly, you can do it again.” 

“But, sir, with due respect, this isn’t exactly in my job description.” You walk backwards as he strides around his desk and tucks his phone away. 

“Your job is to do what I tell you to do. Now,” he looks at you, his eyes flicking up and down, “I think you’re the best possible carrier pigeon for this. Look at you. That ungodly asshole can’t be mad at you and I definitely am not telling him. Not without another explosion and I’m on probation right now.” He taps his chest and his suit expands around his body. “His brother should be wandering around, maybe he can help control the beast.” 

“Sir, don’t make me do this--” He goes to the window and hits the button to pop out the pane. 

“I pay you well enough, sweetheart, so get to work.” He jumps out and his helmet covers his head, blue flame blasting from his heels and gloves as he takes off into the sky.  

You cringe and look down. You should quit. You’ve been reciting the mantra to yourself for months; quit, quit, quit. You wish you had that choice. So far, your resume hasn’t baited any takers. Even with all your work for Stark Industries. Considering who your reference is, you’re starting to wonder. 

You glance around and steel yourself. You walk out of the office and down the hall. Your low heels click, in slow tempo with your dread. You trawl the top floor, searching for a certain blond giant. Thor isn’t anywhere to be found. You’ll have to try the compound... maybe you could just give them a call. 

No, you know Mr. Stark wouldn’t like that. Even if you could get a hold of either of the Asgardians, your boss would make you face the music in person. You take out your phone and scroll through the contacts. Most of them, you’ve never had to call, they’re only there for emergencies and usually, you’re not the one calling them for that. 

You put the phone to your ear as it dials. It rolls for so long, you’re certain you’ll get the voicemail. It picks up at the last moment, the line buzzing and unclear. 

“Hel-lo?” Thor’s deep baritone greets you. “It is the little assistant, yes?” 

You can just make out his hazy words. “Yes, Mr. Odinson? Can you hear me?” 

He laughs and you hear him shuffling around. The crackling stops and the line clears. “Mr. Odinson. You Midgardians. It’s Thor.” 

“Yes, Thor, well, um, where are you?” 

“Is there something the matter?” He asks as his tone turns dire. “Where are you, little one?” 

You ignore the question tossed back at you and clear your throat. “Um, it’s about... um, I think it would be best if we had this discussion face to face but Mr. Stark told me to pass on some news and yeah... I’d like to meet up if poss--” 

“Little one!” Thor appears before you, out of breath, his phone clutched in his hand. He didn’t hear a damn thing you just said. You smile. You’ve trained that expression so well, it’s almost believable. “Where is the danger?” 

You almost laugh. It’s endearing to have him so concerned. You doubt his brother will be as accommodating. 

“Hi, uh, like I said, it’s nothing serious. It’s erm, do you know where you brother is?” Your voice hits a pitch so high it makes your ears hurt. 

“Ugh, what has he done now? I swear, I’ve told him--” 

“It’s nothing he’s done. Well, it’s kind of it. Okay, um, Thor, I need to talk to your brother.” 

“Loki? You need to talk to him? No one wants to talk to Loki,” he narrows his eyes in consternation. 

“Yes, well, I have a job to do. I’d also appreciate if you’d be there to, you know, act as mediator,” you make yourself small as you push your shoulders up to your ears. “Please?” 

“Of course, little one, of course, let us go find that snake!” He grabs your arm before you can react and almost has you off your feet as he drags you down the hall. “I left him in the lobby. He isn’t fond of this place.” 

Maybe that will make this all easier, you think. 

Thor doesn’t slow down. You stumble with him as you struggle to keep your shoes from falling off. You tap his arm as you get to the elevator. 

“Really, we can take our time,” you assure him as he jams his finger into the down button.  

You’re really in no hurry for any of this. You’re almost hoping that if you put this off longer, someone else might just come along and tell them for you. You know that won’t happen but you can hope. Even so, Tony has more important things to do and as usual, you’re left with his grunt work. 

[shalomniscient]

maybe hot take but i do think it’s entirely possible to romance arlecchino even if you didn’t know her before clervie died, it’ll just take a really, really long time. the slow burn of the century, even. obviously there are things you have to be, like an ally to the house and a fatui member, but beyond that it’s really just a waiting game. it’s the progression from colleague to ally to trusted confidant before she would consider even looking at you platonically. and then maybe years of being just friends, at least to her, before she realises that maybe what she feels for you at this point goes beyond the bounds of friendship.

of course, when she realises this, she vanishes off the face of teyvat for a good month or so to go on a nice emotional crisis bender. maybe she even deploys you to some other corner of the continent to very pointedly avoid your presence because uh oh, feelings, and she has 0 clue what to do. sucks to be her, though, because she is also very pointedly miserable without your company. not in super obvious way—it’s arlecchino—but her kids and subordinates will notice that she’s slightly… off. always looking to her side where you’re supposed to be, but aren’t. it takes her a while and maybe a trip to that old broken arena, looking out at the vast sea before she finally reconciles her feelings with herself.

she loves you. not the same way she loved clervie, never the same way—but she loves you.

when she calls you back to her side she most certainly does not breathe a word of this to you. and it’ll take her even more time to do that step, carefully assessing your every action and reaction. she asks the children about you more, and they share knowing glances. your likes, dislikes. hobbies and even guilty pleasures. she almost unconsciously starts to court you, but plays it off as fortunate coincidences.

the director of this new play at the epiclese happened to give me two tickets for free. care to join me?

there’s a new item on the menu at hotel debord. i intend to try it; i believe some of the children may enjoy such things. however, a second opinion would also be valuable. shall we?

(the fact that the play is a romance one and the menu item is a couples’ special is a fact she conveniently avoids bringing up.)

i imagine she’d confess eventually in a surprisingly casual way. maybe you’re both standing on the shore, watching the sunset. the both of you talk about unimportant things, but it’s only with you that arlecchino wants to indulge in these unimportant things, if only to hear the sound of your voice. she’d say the words under the light of the pale moon, always having been more comfortable under the silver light than that of the sun’s. she won’t say the words outright, no i-love-yous, but something just enough.

you are valuable to me, she’ll say, watching the waves roll, as if simply stating another unimportant thing. but her body betrays her, the subtle tense of her shoulders and the way her fingers twitch by her sides. you are not expendable.

it’s fine, though, because you’ve known her long enough to know what she means. and when she finally kisses you for the first time it’s with the slightest hint of hesitance and uncertainty, but there is a sincerity in her that you could not deny if you tried. that night you walk back to the house with your arm looped in hers, and as she watches you watch the world she thinks she could never go back to the one she had before you.

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

You meet Eddie Munson, the guy who your brother Dustin idolises. It does not go well...

🖤

Why did you have the insanely stupid idea to drive your brother to Hellfire Club tonight? You could have been with Tiffany and Chloe watching Breakfast Club for the millionth time or Nightmare on elm street. Gossiping about cute boys or anything else than this.

Except you had agreed to drive Dustin to his dumb club and he hadn't stopped talking your ear off about d&d and Eddie Munson and whatever else came into his head.

You adored your little brother but the two of you were so different in the things you liked and most people were stunned when they learned that the two of you were even related.

Dustin ploughed on about Eddie and you struggled to keep up. You hadn't met the guy your brother idolised, of course you had heard of him. Everyone in Hawkins had heard of Eddie 'the freak' Munson but the two of you ran in vastly different circles.

Naturally you were a little curious about him, he was the leader and dungeon master of the Hellfire member club, you vaguely knew of what the dungeon master did in d&d, Dustin had tried to teach you about the game a few times and certain things had stuck in your head.

"Please be nice to Eddie. He's so cool and I don't want you embarrassing me in front of him" Dustin begs and you're slightly offended by this, you were always polite to Dustin's friends, even when the little nerds got on your nerves.

"I'm always nice" Dustin snorts at this and you glare at him. Butthead.

"I think you'll like Eddie, the rest of his friends are cool too. Besides it will get you out of the house and stop you moping about Jacob" you wrinkle your nose at the mention of your ex.

Jacob was ancient history as far as you were concerned... He really was a self centered asshole and you're glad you didn't take months to figure that out. You were still upset that he turned out to be such a douchebag.

You pull up at Hawkins High and Dustin rushes to get to the drama club. Okay, so the two of you were a little late... Like over ten minutes because Chloe called you and was having a crisis about what to wear for her date with Taylor but that couldn't be helped?

"Eddie likes people to be on time, I can't believe you made me late" Dustin huffs and you follow him inside, trying to tune out his attitude.

"Henderson, care to explain why you're late?" A voice snaps from where the rest of the team are seated. This must be Eddie, he's on a chair that resembles a throne and is clearly the person in charge.

Your eyes flicker over his ring clad hands, the leather jacket and curly brown hair. Big brown eyes narrow at your brother who's pink cheeked and stammering.

"Uh, shit...uh sorry Eddie" Dustin throws you a contemptuous look but you're too busy looking at Eddie.

He really was very attractive. Unfortunately he opens his mouth again and that thought vanishes like a puff of smoke.

"Spit it out Dustin. We don't have all night and I'm already behind which I'm pissed about, you little butthead"

Butthead? Hey, who was he to insult your brother. Only you got that honour.

"Excuse me, exactly who do you think you're talking to?" Eddie's gaze meets yours and they widen for a second. Then he smirks. He even has dimples which makes him even hotter.

Asshole.

"This is between me and Dustin. What's it to you?". He asks and it's so cocky that you march right up to him and Dustin groans.

"I told you not to embarrass me" he whines and you ignore him and focus on Eddie who's watching you with an amused look on his face.

"That butthead is my brother and I'm the only one who can speak to him like that" you snap and Eddie's grin widens.

"I didn't realise Henderson had a sister and that still doesn't explain why he's late" you ignore the way your stomach clenches when Eddie appraises you.

"That's my fault so yell at me. My friend had a few problems" Dustin rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, like finding an outfit for her date was a crisis" you shoot him with an icy glare and he quietens. Eddie's eyes crinkle when he smiles and he puts his hand on his heart in mock horror.

"Oh no, not the dreaded date outfit conundrum" you grow a little flustered and you scowl. Seriously this was the guy that Dustin adored? Steve, now you could get why Dustin worshipped Steve but seriously, this guy?

"He's great isn't he?" Dustin grins at you and you gape, were you the only one here who thought Eddie was a cocky asshole? A very hot one but still an asshole.

"Oh he's perfect...a perfect pain in the ass" you reply sarcastically but mutter the last part under your breath. Eddie still hears it and laughs as he settles back on his throne.

"You sure she's your sister Dustin? Seems she needs to remove the stick from her..." The guys laugh hesitantly and you level one last vicious glare at Eddie before you storm out.

"I'll pick you up at nine thirty Dustin" you call back to him and Eddie's voice follows you out.

"I miss you already princess"

Ugh. Asshole.

I might make this a series, we shall see 💞

[spdrvyn]

WHY DON'T WE CALL IT FOR WHAT IT IS? — [ post-atsv. spider-reader. wc 1.4k ] you and miguel are dating in secret. neither of you are a fan of pda, so he shows as much as he can in private.

Your participation in the Society recently was bordering on mediocre. In your defense, your other job has been keeping you occupied. Of course, living with Miguel still means that you can see him a lot. A privilege that the other measly spiders can not afford, but you.

However, Miguel was on another strike mission in a never seen before spider dimension. From the details he told you, it was a world blanketed in snow and ice. It required very specific agents to accomplish and knowing him, he volunteered himself to go with too.

Once you were free from your shift, you anxiously waited near the console. Only occasionally leaving to grab a snack and go to the bathroom, as each minute passed the more nervous you became.

Miguel left early in the morning, bidding you farewell with a kiss on your forehead that you were still way too groggy for. It was late in the evening now and there was no sign of him or his team.

Your mind started to wander, passing scenarios of what you wished could happen once you finally saw him. You would leap at him with your arms spread to prepare for his warm embrace, you would pepper kisses all across his handsome face and he'd flush under the attention. Unfortunately, you could only dream that would happen.

As much as possible, both you and Miguel have been trying to keep your relationship private. Not for any life-threatening or intensely serious reasons, but it was for both of your comfort. You liked the intimacy that came with keeping everything private, knowing that whatever you had between each other was just for you. Miguel thought the same, he was the one who suggested it after all.

Still, that fact hindered you. Your jobs and his entailed long nights away from each other and when you finally reunited or even had more than ten minutes to just be, you couldn't act on your true desires because you would be in the eyes of other people.

"Hey. A dollar for your thoughts?" Margo chimed, her iridescent hologram brought a soothing glow to the dark oranges and yellows of the console room.

"Isn't it a penny for your thoughts?"

"Well, they've had to up the prices. You know, inflation." You couldn't tell if she approached you because she noticed how deep in thought you appeared to be or if she too was riding on waves of boredom. Nevertheless, a distraction would probably help.

"Who are you waiting for exactly?" Margo turned her back to you for a second and flickers on her own screens, nearly in the same fashion Lyla does. Only they look more purple as opposed to dandelion.

"Miguel. He wanted to talk to me about a - progress report and I think the mission he went on overlapped with that meeting."

She chortled at your hesitation, the sound increased when you mentioned your reasoning. "I didn't know he did those kinds of reports. You must be special, huh?"

"They're, uh, you have to ask for them."

Over time, you were able to develop a skill where you can pull any sort of lie out of your ass. That was mostly because you used to only be interrogated by Peter B. (he still does it) and he was pretty easy to shut down. Ask about his daughter and all of that, crisis averted.

But this was different. It was a teenager you were talking to, if you were her age in her position right now, you would also be trying to pry as much as you could and tell all your friends about what you heard.

"You asked for it? You're stronger than me, for sure."

Miguel isn't that bad- No. Miguel can be professional about it- No. Miguel is my boyfrieeeend- No!!

"Gotta build that emotional endurance too, you know?" You lied through your teeth, this was your true emotional endurance test. You just prayed that literally anything else could happen so that you could move on from this point in the conversation.

That was when you saw it. A miracle. A message from God. That familiar vortex of colors, that familiar bright red arm blade.

"Well, speak of the devil. Good luck with your meeting!" Margo remarked before she webbed to another side of the console, she looked busy. Maybe trying to look busy.

Miguel looked a little worse for ware, and so did the spiders following behind him. You glued yourself in place to keep from immediately checking for any injuries, but you're confident that the look on your face completely gave you away.

When the portal closed, he swiftly faced his team. "Good work on the strike mission. Make sure to get some rest in before sending in your reports. Contact me, Jess, or Peter if you need anything else."

What he intended as a compliment or two sounded slightly tense coming out of his mouth, you were a bit of a long-standing Society member so after The Spot happened, you could tell he was trying more at boosting morale. Even though his scowl and tone of voice sort of eradicated the kindness in what he actually meant, you found it cute that he tried anyway.

Everyone quickly dispersed, some left in pairs, some hopped into a portal straight to what seemed to be their home dimension. From where you were standing, you could see Miguel's shoulders sag in relief. His mask dissipated to reveal his worn out mug and he immediately turned to walk over to you.

You could tell he wanted to fold. Leave all of today's remaining problems to the Miguel of tomorrow, crawl into your loving embrace, and lay in dormancy until he would meet his fate again.

"Miguel," You initiate. "Is it time for my meeting now?"

There was no meeting. He probably had no idea what you were talking about, but he did at the same time. His steely, jaded disposition gave way to the warm, homely lover you have always known. He nodded, the moment you two stepped inside the apartment, he hugged you.

~

Over the course of your relationship with Miguel, he had taken you out to a good amount of luxurious fine dining restaurants. You were always extremely grateful, especially since he would refuse to let you pay even by a little. He's introduced a lot of new options and in return, you'd show him around the good food spots in your city too.

Yet, nothing could ever compare to a slow, home-cooked meal with just the two of you. Everything felt so intimate that way, you didn't have to worry about public appearances. Many meals being dished out with both you and Miguel in your pajamas.

Tonight was no different, of course. Miguel seemed more sluggish this time around, but you didn't mind picking more work than usual. You would have cooked for him yourself, but you had a feeling that he'd fight you for that.

Dinner had fallen into a comfortable silence this time, your relationship has gotten to the point where there was no obligation to make conversation. Sometimes, Miguel would burst into drawn-out rambles about how his day went and you'd listen intently. Except now, he's too tired to even speak.

After putting the dishes away and performing night routines, a movie in bed would be the perfect conclusion to such a peaceful night.

Nueva York was colder compared to your city, you complained about it to him multiple times so now Miguel usually keeps more than one blanket on the bed now. Honestly, you said it because you liked being snug in his arms when you slept with him. Not in that way.

Miguel's head rested on the column between your shoulder and neck, he weighed you down onto the memory foam mattress with a leg over both of yours and his arms snaked around your torso.

From your peripherals, you could see him gazing up at you. His attention stolen by your face, merlot hued eyes that traced every line, curve, and detail.

"Migs," You smiled back at him. "What are you gawking at?"

Bashfully, he turned his face inward with the hint of a grin at the upturned corners of his lips. It made your heart pounce, the idea that you especially had the privilege of seeing him so tender and shy.

No psychic could have foreseen you living your life like this right now, the same could be said for Miguel too. You didn't force him into this, batter him down to be all soft and mushy. It was because he knew, he finally knew from the way you stayed and loved him through the thick and thin, that he was finally safe and those walls crumbled.

The warmth from his kisses travelled all the way up to your ear. There, he whispered to you a promise, a declaration.

"I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

awwww!!!! miguel!!!!!! anyway hii, been a while since i've uploaded a proper fic so here it is! i hope you guys enjoyed this one because i had a lot of fun writing it :-)

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

No thoughts. Just: Steve told the kids not to burst into his house and to knock. They learned the hard way when they learned how Steve walks around his big empty house. They always knock now. However, once Eddie joined the party, they decided to prank Eddie. They told him that Steve loves it when they come over unannounced and walk right in. So when Eddie gets bored, he heads straight over to Steve’s house and walks right in.

"The kids told me to just come right over and let myself - oh, fuck!" Eddie yelped.

Steve happened to be walking towards the kitchen at the time, entering the hallway as he did, giving Eddie a very view of Steve’s completely naked body.

"The kids were saying what now?" Steve asked, his hands on his hips.

Steve in the "hands on his hips" pose. . .NAKED. Eddie snorted and blinked rapidly, trying to catch his breath. Eddie's heart was beating rapidly. Oh, this is it. This is how Eddie was going to die.

"Uh. . . They, uh, they said just to let myself in," Eddie said.

"Of course, they did," Steve said and rolled his eyes, tilting his head up causing his throat to be exposed.

This man was gorgeous. Eddie yelped and collapsed the ground. He rolled over, pressing his cheek to the ground, enjoying the way the cool tile felt against his cheek. Never once in his life had he called a guy gorgeous before, never wanted to lick his neck the way he wanted to lick Steve’s.

"Jesus, Eddie, are you okay?"

Suddenly, Steve bare feet came into view. Oh God, Eddie could see his ankle.

"No. . . I think I'm having a crisis," Eddie said.

Slowly, Steve lowered himself to the floor and laid on his back. Eddie focused on his face. If he looked down, he could see his. . . If he just reached out, he could touch it. Eddie let out a squeak.

"You know, if it makes you more comfortable, you could be naked too," Steve said.

"Really?" Eddie asked.

"I already had my crisis about you," Steve said.

"Me? Really?" Eddie asked grinning.

Steve grinned and turned on his side, supporting his head with his fist. He put his hand on his other hip. Holy fuck, that was a gorgeous view.

"Yeah. Okay. Okay. This is happening."

A few days later. . .Eddie gathered everyone together for Hellfire.

"So, I walked into Steve’s house the other day," Eddie said, watching as Dustin, Mike, and Lucas shared a look.

"And?" Dustin snickered.

Eddie knew they were hoping that he would freak. If they only knew how much he had freaked out and oh, he wished he could tell them without outing Steve and give them their own shock by telling them he got railed by their babysitter that evening. Besides, he didn't want to traumatize them.

"Nothing, we hung out all evening. He really is very welcoming. . .very open," Eddie said and tried not to laugh. "He's a good guy. We're very close now. We opened each other up and everything."

"Oh, nothing else happened?" Lucas asked as they all looked disappointed.

"Was something supposed to happen?" Eddie asked with a raised eyebrow.

"No!" The three of them said in unison.

Did he absolutely make it hell for them the evening? It was only fair. He did let up a little bit. They were, after all, the reason he and Steve got together. Happy accidents and all that. . .

[wisedelusionalmarshmallow]

@rosekillermicrofic, July 8th - Potion, T, Word Count - 314

Evan was sure that Barty had a crush on him. Evan himself has had a crush on Barty since 4th year, but he was never sure if his feelings were reciprocated. Except for these past few weeks. He kept noticing Barty staring at him more often and leaving more lingering touches.

Though he still could be very, very wrong.

Regulus suggested Amortentia. If Barty smells Evan in the potion than Evan is correct. If he doesn't. Well, let's cross that bridge when we get there.

"Hey Barty?" Evan calls from the dorm's bathroom. He can see Barty out of the mirror lying on his bed, flipping through a muggle magazine he traded some Bertie Botts for.

"What's up Rosie?" He shouts back, meeting Evan's eyes in the mirror.

Here goes nothing.

"I'm trying out a new cologne, can you come and smell it for me?" In his hands is not a bottle of cologne, but the Amortentia Regulus brewed for him.

Pushing himself off his bed, Barty makes his way over to where Evan stands in front of the counter. Evan's pretty sure he's going to have a heart attack from the way his chest is racing in anticipation.

Sticking out his hand, Evan holds the bottle in front of Barty. He tries to keep the shake out of his grip. Barty leans forward and takes a big sniff of the 'cologne'.

He backs away with a judgemental look on his face and Evan only gets more anxious.

"New cologne? I don't know what you're on but that's the same shit you've been wearing for years."

OhMerlinBartylikeshimBartylikeshimBartylikeshim- All Evan can do is nod. "Yeah uh, um. Just wanted to prank you," he spits out, trying not to make a fool of himself.

Barty smiles to him, then makes his way back to his bed. Evan closes the bathroom door before he has his mini-crisis.

[peculiar0ne]

a familiar face

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

”hey dingus! your children are here!”

steve’s head snaps up from its place on the back room’s table. it takes him a moment to process robin’s words, but when he does, he’s out of that chair in 0.3 seconds.

he bursts through the ‘captain’s quarters’ door, running up to greet the party.

“your first day of summer break and you come to see my dumbass at this place?” he questions. he wasn’t sure what these kids found so interesting about him, but whatever it was, they were all wrapped around his finger.

he wasn’t complaining, just confused as to why a bunch of 14 year-olds were spending their first day of summer vacation in a nautical themed ice cream shop with him instead of going to the arcade.

“will wanted ice cream,” el shrugs.

“and we wanted to see how stupid you looked in your uniform!” lucas chimed in.

“are you wearing…lipgloss?”

“shut the hell up, max. it’s strawberry lipgloss and it’s the closest thing to chapstick i could find.”

steve was, of course, lying. he didn’t want the party to know that he was wearing lipgloss to try to look a little nicer. he didn’t want them to know about his on-going sexuality crisis, or the specific someone he wanted to catch the attention of.

“harrington, your kids are in the damned way!” robin gestures to the people standing behind them, so steve ushers the group to the side so robin could help the customers.

“anyways, will wanted ice cream? that’s the only reason you’re here?”

“well…we may have planned this after we found out scoops hired you..” will admits as he fidgets with his bracelet (which was made by el at their last sleepover).

“dude! you weren’t supposed to tell him that!”

“i’m sorry, mike! you know i can’t lie!”

“alright, quit arguing,” steve moves back behind the counter, leaning against it. “what do you losers want?”

“we just told you?” max points out.

“haha, mayfield. i mean what flavors. i can’t have you guys in my way all day, i have shit to do.” steve reaches for his ice cream scoop, and waits for the kids to order their treats.

the kids left after everyone got their ice cream, much to their dismay. robin had ushered them out, wanting to make room for ‘actual customers’, as she called it.

“seriously, how many children are you friends with, harrington?”

steve rolled his eyes and chuckled, before his attention was pulled away from robin, and onto someone new. the last person either of the two had expected to see.

steve turned around after hearing the shuffling of feet approaching the counter.

“ahoy-“

steve froze.

a familiar set of brown eyes stared back at him. long, curly hair framed the face of this mystery person. they cocked their head in confusion as a response to steve’s frozen frame.

“uh, you alright there, harrington?”

“wha- yeah, yeah i’m fine. eddie..?”

“that is my name,” eddie comments, still confused.

“sorry, just uh, why are you here? i didn’t expect to see you.”

“aw, are you all shy because of me? you could’ve said so, pretty boy, maybe i would’ve stayed away,” eddie smirked, leaning over the counter and resting his chin on his palm.

steve wasn't shy because of eddie, per say. steve was shy because..

because he's eddie? no, that couldn't be it.

eddie was the reason steve had so boldly chosen to wear lipgloss that day.

that's why steve was shy.

'oh my fuck. holy shit. why did this have to happen? i wore the lipgloss to try to catch his eye, but he wasn't supposed to actually stop by the fucking store! stupid steve! you are SO stupid!'

"hey, harrington? you daydreaming about boobies over there?" eddie giggles, waving his hand in front of the dazed boy's face.

steve shakes himself out of his thoughts, suddenly aware of how red his face is. aware of how close eddie is. he had moved as close to the counter as possible-avoiding climbing on top of it-in order to check on steve. eddie knew steve was a flight risk. faint risk, as he preferred to call it. he had seen it before, countless times from the sidelines, always too nervous to approach and help out.

"i'm fine! what can i get you eddie?" steve blurts out, wanting this awkward interaction to be over with. i mean, come on. boobies? how old was munson, anyway?

"i'll take a double scoop of chocolate on a waffle cone and your phone number, if you're giving it out," eddie winks, and steve just rolls his eyes and charges eddie, then prepares and gives him his order.

and then finds himself giving the taller boy his phone number.

LOWERCASE INTENDED

part 2: ?

[princesscolumbia]

Star Trek Captains, A Review and Categorization

Star Trek is a show about a Neo-military organization that has rank structures, ships, and fights wars, so naturally there's plenty of captains to talk about, but for this post I'll be highlighting specifically the main cast captains, in something resembling chronological order. (But, I mean, this is Star Trek, so even that's kinda up in the air)

Captain Archer

That Guy who had to hand crank the warp engine up-hill both ways in the blinding ion storm. We don't need no stinkin' Prime Directive! Remember The Alamo Pearl Harbor 9/11 Florida! But...uh, maybe don't be dicks about it, not everyone who looks like the ones responsible for that thing we're never going to forget actually wants us dead. Got transformed into an alien, got possessed by another alien, slept with a couple more. Never got pregnant, though (that was his chief engineer)

Scorecard

Ships commanded: 1

Wars started: 0

Wars ended: 3

Times on screen naked: 1

Nazi facilities destroyed: 1

Category: Grampa

Captain Pike

Midlife crisis? What midlife crisis? Everything's fiiiiine. Now eat something, it'll make you feel better. I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed. Number One, don't tell me I can't adopt more kids, I don't care that they're from the future they're mine now. Besides, we've already got a whole ship-full, what's two more?

Scorecard

Ships commanded: 2

Violations of the Temporal Prime Directive: -3 (yes, it's an irrational number, we're talking time travel, people!)

Musical Numbers Participated While On Duty: 3

Hair: Really Great

Category: Dad (or DILF if you swing that way)

Captain Georgiou

You will be captain when you can snatch the stone from my hand.

Scorecard

Ships commanded: 1

Protege's who required a redemption arc: 1

Awesomeness: Transcendent

Category: Gone too soon, also, MILF who can kick your ass

(Edit: Courtesy of @cheer-me-up-scotty for pointing out an oversite on my part)

Captain Burnham

Cosplays as a Vulcan 'cause she's jealous of her adoptive brother. Accurately called an audience-stand-in-self-insert-mary-sue (shut up, Star Trek fandom invented the Mary Sue, it was a term coined by women fans, so shut up!), but by season 2 she actually gets interesting.

Scorecard

Mommy Issues: Has a subscription

Moms: 4

PTSD inducing life events: Like, all of them

Ships commanded: 3

Mutinies led failed: 1

Category: That One Cousin who married surprisingly well and made something of herself in spite of all expectations

Captain Kirk

Golden retriever energy, would be the Useless Bisexual Himbo if he didn't have so much game. Probably smarter than he lets on. Polyamory King and certified Alien Fucker. Boyfriend is a half-space-elf, main sometimes-girlfriend will go on to create the deadliest super-weapon ever built by humans by accident.

Scorecard

Number of Klingon Bounties on his head: [CLASSIFIED]

Number of women he's slept with: [CLASSIFIED]

Nazi regimes toppled: 1

Number of times he should have had a test that determines if you can stick your dick in it that got named after an upstart from that other science fiction show instead: 1

Ships Commanded: 3

Ships He's Stolen: 3

Category: Slut(affectionate)

Captain Kirk (the other one)

Golden Retriever that got left behind when his family moved away and had to lead a ragtag team of a crotchety older dog and a wet cat on a journey...

No, wait, hold on...

Right! That's the one!

Scorecard

Times he should have been kicked out of Starfleet: At least 4

Ships commanded: 3

Ground transport destroyed: 2 (that we know of)

Number of middle fingers given to Admiralty: 2

Category: Bad Boy

Captain Picard

You know that guy who you see going to the library all the time and always seems to have his nose in a book and always seems to be telling people off for breaking the rules and doing dangerous shit? You'd never know it but he used to be That Guy in college who got, like, ALL the girls and is going to be the Hot Grampa that you don't know how he has that much game, but he got it.

Scorecard

Ships lost in the line of duty: 2

Number of times he married and then estranged his best friend's wife who named their son after her dead first husband: 1

Number of toxic omnipotent and omniscient boyfriends who are obsessed with him and spends their spare time playing with ponies: 1

Category: Inexplicable Sexyman

Captain Badass Sisko

The Cool Dad with baggage. He's got game, but he's got priorities as well, and DON'T mess with his son or you won't even exist anymore to regret it. BLM before it was cool. Led a civil rights riot two centuries before he was born. Space Jesus who can make the best jambalaya you've ever had. Fought and won a war, punched a god, then became one.

Scorecard

Civilizations saved: 4

Native Cultures Treated With the Respect They Deserve: Many

Times He Bent the Rules so his CMO could get some nookie from a Cardasian spy plain, simple tailor: The counter broke

Successful black-ops assassinations completed: 1

Category: BAMF

Captain Janeway

THE single most decorated captain in Starfleet history. Successfully dropped the hammer on dozens of petty tyrants, oppressive regimes, roaming mass murderers, and the Borg. What Prime Directive? Your Mom. Also, probably slept with your mom, that's how much she is the Domme-est of Dommes. She told the Borg to use the safe word...and they DID!

Scorecard

Borg Daughters: 1

Times she told the Borg to step off: 3 (or 4...or 5? Honestly, with the time travel shenanigans it's hard to know for sure)

Nazis she's personally shot: 1

Category: Mistress, but it's "Ma'am" to you

Captain Freeman

She's angry AND disappointed! She's just as good as all the other captains in the fleet, and the good ones know it, but all the rest? They see "cali class" and assume all they're good for is the jobs nobody else wants. But jokes on them, because thanks to that attitude her crew are the flippin' Jacks and Jills of all trades and are more capable of fixing AND fucking AND "fucking" shit up than damn near anyone else!

Scorecard

Times the ship has nearly been destroyed but she and her crew got through it: ...uh...how many episodes are there? And then there's the times that get casual mentions that we never get the details on!

Daughters who should probably be captains now if they were at least a LITTLE more respectful and didn't actively try to piss off Admirals: 1

Times the Cerritos has had to be rebuilt to the point it might as well be called "The Ship of Cerritos Problem": At least 4

Category: Your mom...get back here, I'M NOT DONE TALKING TO YOU!

Captain R'El

Cinnamon Roll, just let m'boy into Starfleet! He just wants a home and a family! I'd like to see full-grown captains who can keep up with half of what this Best Boy is capable of!

Scorecard

Number of species his genetic code is made up of: All of 'em. Even the GODDAMN Q!

Number of Janeways he impressed the socks off of: 2

Quality of his Janeway impression: Bad

Number of Ferengi he out-Ferengi'd: 1

Nazis punched: Give him time...

Category: Teenage Boy Who's NOT GOING THROUGH A PHASE, MOM!

Should I do Captains Shaw and Seven? How about Alternate Timeline Tripp or Future Chakotay? (Going too far down that rabbit hole will eventually lead to Imperial Kirk and Captain Spock from the movies.) Let me know in the comments.

Next Post in this series

[starlightsalvatore]

decisions, decisions / damon salvatore x reader

heyoooo ! new damon fic ! I don't know that this one will have a part two, but I loved the idea of it :) lmk what you think!

decisions, decisions / damon salvatore x reader

summary: the two times you discussed your apprehension to transitioning with Damon, and the one time you didn't get to.

word count: 5.5k

warnings: mentions of death, blood, violence, etc. typical tvdu stuff, no real reference as to when this takes place in canon

As you walked through the doors of the boarding house, flanked by both of the Salvatore’s, you thought of the night your parents had died and how you eerily felt the same way as you did then… your boots clicking against the wood floors could be heard by anyone, though it wasn’t quite reaching your ears, neither were the voices of Stefan and Damon as they led you into the kitchen and sat you on a bar stool. Logically, you knew exactly where you were, but really if someone asked you wouldn’t have an answer. The only thing you knew for certain in this moment was that your skin was itchy and your mind was racing, replaying the events of the past hour as it tried to sort and categorize what it had seen, what it had done.

“Should we… call someone?” Damon asked, and this you heard but your eyes remained locked in place, looking at something that wasn’t really there as you felt a hand on your shoulder and a glass pressed to your lips, thankfully your body had the instinct to go on autopilot and sip the water Stefan was forcing you to drink. 

“Who?” he shot back, and if these were different circumstances you would have laughed, said my dead parents? A crisis counselor? A therapist? Good luck explaining this one.

“Bonnie, Elena, Caroline?” Damon listed off and each name made you wince.

“I don’t think any of them will be much help right now,” Stefan answered. Good, at least someone is thinking clearly.

“I’m fine,” you finally said, voice hoarse as you spoke for the first time in over an hour, and both boys snapped their heads to look at you, varying levels of concern clear on their faces. “I just, uh…” you paused, looking down at your hands, blood caked underneath your fingernails, seeped into the fabric of your clothing, even down to your socks. “It’s a lot of-” your hands started to shake and Stefan was quick to grab them, steadying them as he pulled you up.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” he said softly, leading you up the stairs and into a bathroom where you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and had you had the capacity to process the sight before you, you again might have laughed… an inappropriate reaction to an inappropriate situation. Stefan left quietly, leaving you alone as you began stripping yourself of your now-ruined clothing, trying to ignore the way it clung to your skin before smearing the blood everywhere… as if it would have made a difference.

You didn’t even flinch when the door opened, unconcerned with the fact that you were standing in just your bra and underwear because it’s not like there was anything to really see beneath all the red and Damon’s eyes were apologetic as he sat a stack of clothes and several towels on the counter. “Sorry, just leaving these here for you,” he said and you gave him a dry smile.

“It’s fine, sure you’ve seen worse.” you replied.

“I’ll be just outside, shout if you need anything.” You nodded softly as the door shut once more, and you peeled off the remainder of your clothing before flicking the faucet on and stepping under the stream. The shower floor quickly became a violent red, bright and angry, as the water washed over you and it did nothing to quell the images flashing through your mind. You almost felt embarrassed by how shell shocked you were, it wasn’t like you hadn’t killed before… a rogue vampire, or a werewolf that one time, in the heat of battle amidst the chaos that was now your life but this was different.

This was a hunter, a human, someone new drawn to the horrors plaguing Mystic Falls that set a perfect trap for Stefan and Damon, leaving you in the crosshairs after a training session in the woods. The irony of you pinned to the ground with only a small knife to your name after an afternoon spent wielding weapon after weapon was not lost on you, and the real kicker was the stake driven through your abdomen… the only human staked with two vervained vampires laying a few feet away. Instinct and self-preservation had taken over, mixed with a little fear, and in all honesty you don’t know where your knife had landed, just that you’d fought with all your might until his body slumped against yours. You’d known it had to be you, if either of them had awoken they wouldn’t have hesitated, you had to be the one to do it.

You briefly thought of Carrie, how the pig’s blood poured over her and drenched her so completely… only this wasn’t a movie, you weren’t on a stage in a pink dress, and this was not pig’s blood. It was sticky and hot pouring over your face, dripping down your neck, seeping through your clothes… it was human. It wasn’t a vampire, or a werewolf, it was another human just like you. You’d seen the light burn out in his eyes, you’d felt the limpness in his form as you shoved him off, you’d felt every inch of the stake as you pulled it out with shaking hands, terror pumping through your veins as you realized if you died right here, you would not be dead.

It was something trivial, a knife slicing through your palm so deep you felt woozy, you remembered the laughter as Damon begrudgingly gave you his wrist and Elena’s comment… I think we need to establish a schedule, make sure you’re with a vampire at all times otherwise your clumsiness is going to be your doom. 

You scrubbed your scalp, nails raking across the skin as you desperately waited for the water to run clear. It felt like there wasn’t enough soap, enough water, enough patience. But eventually it did, what’s the saying… all bleeding must stop? Soon everything will pass. How long until this passed? You recognized Damon’s scent as you pulled on his clothes after drying off, wrapping you in a sense of comfort you found odd. It wouldn’t have been the case had it been Stefan’s, you always felt safe with him, trusted and valued… but Damon? You were friends, sure, by circumstance not choice, you never fully knew where you stood with him which left you on edge and unsettled in his company.

You opened the door to find him exactly where he said he would be, leaning against the wall opposite you, eyes glued to the floor until they snapped up, searching yours for the answer to a question he didn’t ask, a question he wasn’t really sure of in the first place. He let out a chuckle as he scanned you, settling on the sweatpants threatening to drop right off your frame, and he gently reached out to secure them tightly around your waist. “Better?” he asked and you nodded.

“Finally feel clean,” you answered, voice still scratchy and hollow, as he led you down the hallway to his bedroom where he pulled back the covers for you to settle in. You looked up at him with a look of confusion and amusement as he busied himself with tucking you in, truly fretting over you. “Who are you and what have you done with Damon Salvatore?”

“Ha ha,” he responded sarcastically. “Thought this would be more comfortable, the guest rooms are kind of creepy in my opinion.”

“If you say so,” you replied, a smirk clear on your face and he tried not to dwell too much on how reassuring it was to see you sinking back into your old self.

“Do you need anything? Water, food, Stefan?” he asked and you just shook your head, “okay, I’ll be down the hall… or you know where Stefan is, whoever you’re more comfortable with, if you need anything…” he said, rambling as he was overwhelmed by the emotional intimacy of tending to you, yet he still felt like he wasn’t really doing enough as he walked towards the door.

“Damon?” you called, and he was quick to turn around, eyes warm and curious as they settled on you. “Could you maybe… stay? If that’s not weird?” you asked, and he was sliding into the other side of the bed in an instant, careful to leave an appropriate distance to not spook you.

“I think we left weird back in the woods,” he answered and you let out a soft laugh. Silence permeated the space as you both tried to figure out what to say next, there were about a dozen thoughts on the tip of your tongue and only one question on Damon’s that he finally found the nerve to ask. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know, I think so? He was going to kill all of us, I know I did the right thing, but… it’s just weird, I guess I was overly prepared for killing something supernatural, and underprepared for something human.” 

“You did do the right thing, and you saved one of us from the hunter’s curse… thank you for that, by the way,” he said, and you cracked a smile. “It was him or us and you chose right.”

“I almost died,” you nearly whispered, recalling the feeling of your blood rushing out of the wound in your abdomen, using all of your strength to crawl over to Stefan and Damon’s unconscious bodies. “I know it’s not the first time that’s happened, but it was the first time I felt it, the losing energy, feeling weak… when neither of you were waking up I was terrified I was going to die.” You recalled your panic, both of them out cold as your hands darted around the ground, sifting through dead leaves to try and find the knife you’d dropped to slice open Damon’s wrist to drink from.

“And you still had my blood in your system,” he finished, and you looked over to him a little shocked that he remembered, and that he already seemed to know that’s what was really bothering you. “You don’t want to turn?” he asked, genuinely curious. You’d always refrained from giving your two cents on the matter when it came up, and you were usually impossible to read.

“I don’t know,” you answered. “I’ve thought about it, not enough to figure out my stance on it. I don’t feel the same as Elena did, it was her worst nightmare… She wanted kids, and the picket fence, and sitting on the porch swing old and gray. I don’t want the same things, I don’t view vampirism as a hindrance to my goals or an unnecessary evil, but I also don’t know if I want to give up my human life.”

“You’ll stay here the next few days,” he responded and you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. “Until it passes from your system. You deserve for it to be a choice, and I don’t want you out in the world where you could stumble into another person on the hunt for me… or with your luck, oncoming traffic.”

You let out a laugh, “thank you.” You settled into the blankets as a wave of exhaustion rolled over you, and you tilted your head slightly when you saw Damon lift an arm up for you, creating a space for you to lay against his chest. You exhaled in relief as he held you firmly, caging you in and wrapping you in a sense of protection.

“Get some rest, I’m not going anywhere.” he whispered, fingers drawing absentminded patterns against your skin as you already began fading into sleep. Nothing about the day had been predictable, but the most unexpected thing was this peaceful moment with Damon… 

The incident with the vampire hunter had left you rattled for weeks to come, while you weren’t subject to the hunter’s curse that didn’t stop it from hanging over you like a storm cloud, lightning threatening to strike at a moment’s notice, but it became easier to manage with time… you were able to compartmentalize and rationalize. Yes, he was human, but he was also trying to kill you and two of your friends. At least, that’s what you (and everyone else) were constantly repeating. Eventually, the dreams subsided and you were able to take a shower without seeing pools of red at your feet, and life began to return to normal.

Well, normal except for one key difference… Damon had become not just a friend of circumstance, but a genuine friend. You’d seen a side of him you were entirely certain didn’t exist and he had suddenly seen you as something more than just one of Elena’s human friends. He had discovered that you were deeply insightful, had good ideas when he actually listened instead of tuning you out, and you were a hell of a drinking buddy despite your weak tolerance for bourbon, which he was currently pouring for himself as you laid sprawled out on his bed with a grimoire underneath you.

“This one is a dead end,” you sighed, crawling off the bed and discarding it on the stack of books Bonnie had asked the two of you to read before swiping his glass and finishing it off, nearly snorting the amber liquid at the look on his face.

“That is good bourbon meant for sipping, it’s not meant to be treated like cheap tequila.”

“My bad,” you said, amusement lacing your tone as you held your hands up in surrender. “I didn’t realize there was a protocol to drinking alcohol.” He just gave you a look as he refilled his glass and poured one for you, one that said you’re insufferable. “I’ll let Bonnie know we didn’t find anything.”

“We’ll figure it out eventually,” he responded, placing the glass in your hand as you clinked it against his. “Got any plans tonight?” he asked, eyes darting to the window showcasing the setting sun.

“Besides drinking you out of house and home?” you answered with a question, tilting the glass back and swallowing it in one gulp, as if to further annoy him, “nope.” He rolled his eyes, walking towards the door and you followed him instinctively, like he was a magnet pulling you along with him, and you let out a gasp when you landed in front of the liquor cabinet, watching him pull out a bottle of tequila.

“That is for you, if you insist on not enjoying your drinks.” It was your turn to roll your eyes as you pulled the top off and drank directly from the bottle.

“We can’t all be old like you, I’m firmly in the stage of my life where alcohol is a means to an end,” you responded with a shrug of your shoulders, making your way over to records where you flipped through, looking for something to put on.

“I’m not old,” he protested and you raised your head slightly to shoot him a look.

“You fought in the civil war,” you pointed out. “On the wrong side, might I add.”

“Not by choice, and I deserted... a fact you always conveniently forget." he protested, rolling his eyes. “Why is it that this is always the album you pick?” he asked, changing the subject entirely as he watched you take another swig from the bottle.

“Do you have a problem with Prince?”

“None at all, however… variety is always a good thing,” he mused.

“Did you ever see Prince? Like, in his heyday?” 

“Once or twice,” he responded, smirking at the way your eyes lit up just imagining it. “Perks of vampirism… compelling yourself into the best spot at any show… One of my fonder memories is watching Fleetwood Mac from the side stage.”

You sighed dreamily, “that is something to put in the pro category.”

“Given it anymore thought?” he asked, extending his hand for you to take as he twirled you around to the sounds of I Wanna Be Your Lover, and you obliged his request to dance instantly, allowing yourself to be pulled into his orbit as your hips swayed in motion with his, both of your bottles long since discarded on a nearby table.

You nodded, “the incident put things into perspective, made me consider things a little more thoroughly. I actually remembered a conversation Elena and I had, long before we ever met you and Stefan, after watching a vampire movie… it was the middle of the night, we should have been sleeping but I asked her ‘if vampires were real, would you want to be one?’ She answered, ‘if they look like Brad Pitt, definitely.’” you paused to chuckle. "But, this isn’t a hypothetical question at a sleepover, it’s a real possibility I’ve teetered on the edge of more than once.” You two were no longer really dancing, merely swaying side to side as he looked down at you with rapt attention, more invested in what you thought than he ever would have imagined. “When I look at you I see endless opportunity, wild fun and trips around the world once, or twice, or a dozen times just because you can, and freedom. When I look at Stefan I see a constant struggle for control, longing for the true humanity he lost, and deep-rooted self-loathing for where he’s been and what he’s done. You two are on opposite ends of the spectrum, which makes it really difficult for me to gauge how I actually feel.”

“You could look at Lexi,” he pointed out. “She was the poster child for self-control and moderation but that girl got up to some wild things when she wasn’t saving hero hair.”

You smiled softly, “I did, actually… I only met her once, and granted I didn’t know she was a vampire at the time, but she did seem good, and free-spirited.” You watched his face fall slightly, no doubt reliving the moment he killed his brother’s best friend, and you wrapped your arms around his neck to break him from the thought. “I want to be like you… uninhibited, bold, a little reckless at times because you’re just invincible enough to be okay no matter what… but then I think of Stefan, or how much Elena wishes she could change things, or how hard Caroline tries to make the best of it and it pulls me right back into questioning everything. And the rub is that if I decide I want to stay human, I can change my mind at any time… if I decide to be a vampire on the other hand…”

“There’s no going back,” he finished and you nodded. “Whatever you decide, you’ve got my support. It’s kind of admirable, the way you’re really taking the time to actually figure out what you want.”

“Was that a compliment?” you teased and he harshly tugged you closer.

“Definitely not,” he whispered before letting you go to return to his bourbon… and you to your tequila.

“If you say so,” you mused, making your way to the record player to make a new selection.

“For the love of god, no more Prince.” he protested, already seeing you halfway through making that choice. You raised your hands in surrender, a cheeky smile on your lips as you instead selected Bon Jovi.

“Oh, you’re going to pay for that.” he said, already lunging for you as you squealed and ran thorough the living room, desperately trying to evade him.

Trudging through the dark woods you struggled to see more than a few feet in front of you, entirely unguided by the light of the moon and the dim glow of your phone screen. One wrong turn had you separated from the Salvatore’s with Klaus on the loose and you thought to yourself that there couldn’t be a worse time for you to be lost and un-flanked by the brother’s. You were unsure of exactly why you were facing off with Klaus, the whole thing felt rather ridiculous to you, but you were whisked off the front porch just as you’d raised your hand to knock… simply there to collect a forgotten textbook. You shouldn’t have been surprised, this was just your life now, breezing from one supernatural disaster to the next.

You thought about calling out to them, but realized it would only alert the person you were desperately trying to avoid, and settled for your careful and slow movements, one foot in front of the other, until you finally, hopefully, found them before Klaus found you. It was an effort entirely in vain, you were human, he was an original vampire, you couldn’t even be shocked when you heard the tenor of his voice or felt a strong arm wrap around your waist as he hauled you through the forest kicking and screaming. “Klaus! Put me down!” you tried, but that was also in vain. 

“I can hear you, Stefan,” Klaus sneered as he dropped you rather unceremoniously to the ground, and you scrambled to your feet… contemplating running but it would only make matters worse.

“Just let her go, Klaus.” Stefan said, emerging with Damon through the tree line and you felt the tiniest bit of relief that was quickly squashed as you realized if they’d angered Klaus there was only so much backpedaling they could do. 

“I thought I told the lot of you to stay away from my family,” Klaus roared and a shiver slinked down your spine… if they messed with his family you were really done for.

“I thought retaliation was fair play,” Damon replied, confusion evident in his tone as he walked towards you, stopping only a few yards away. “Might want to tell that sister of yours to keep her emotions in check.”

“I’ll be sure to pass along the message,” he said, turning to harshly yank you forward. “But it appears you all need a message in return.” He bit into his wrist and you struggled in his grasp as the brother’s moved forward, only to stop in their tracks when Klaus said, “take one more step and I’ll snap her neck.”

“Klaus, don’t!” Stefan pleaded, you could already see the guilt clear as day across his face as he realized you were about to suffer the same fate he wouldn’t wish upon anyone else. “She wasn’t involved, don’t do this to her.”

“Makes for a better lesson then, doesn’t it?” he asked, shoving his wrist against your lips and you tried to fight it but it was futile as you choked his blood down. “An innocent life, completely derailed by your actions.”

“Klaus,” you whispered, the shaky fear drawing his attention to you. “Please don’t do this.”

“I’m sorry, love,” he responded, brushing a stray tear from your cheek and you stiffened at the touch. “You’re what's known as collateral damage, it’s nothing personal.” The worst part of it all was that as you looked up into his eyes you saw genuine remorse… he didn’t want to do this to you, he felt like he had to. “Perhaps in a few years when you’ve adjusted to this new life of yours, I’ll make it up to you.”

“Alright, come on… you’ve given everyone a good scare, message received, just let her go and we can all forget this ever happened.” Damon tried as Klaus’s hand gently cradled the back of your head.

“The next time you think of crossing my family, I want you to look at this lovely young girl, frozen in time, immortalized as a monster, and reconsider,” was the last thing you heard before everything went dark.

You jolted upright in a bed that wasn’t your own, chest heaving as you looked around frantically, trying to decipher where you were and your breathing slowed, only slightly, when you realized you were in Damon’s bedroom. Your mind was reeling as you checked yourself over for injuries before realizing if you were waking up in the boarding house whatever had happened had already been magically erased from your body. You stilled when you heard arguing on the other side of the door, Damon and… maybe Elena? Your head throbbed as you swung your feet over the edge of the bed, prepared to stand and figure out what the hell had happened when it all hit you like a freight train… snapping twigs, Klaus’s blood, darkness. You were in transition.

You jumped to your feet just as the door swung open and Damon was surprised to see you awake, “there she is. How are you feeling?” he asked in an uncharacteristically chipper tone and he was unsurprised when you charged towards him, tiny fists clenched and thudding against any inch of his chest you could hit.

“What the hell did you do?” you shrieked as he just stood there taking it, allowing you to get it out of your system and it didn’t take long for you to realize it wasn’t going to change anything and you stopped as you stepped back and ran a hand through your hair. There was a sinking feeling in your stomach, a chill in your veins as you whispered, “I’m a vampire.” You thought of the conversations you’d had with Damon, exposing your feelings on the matter to only him, feelings you hadn’t quite deciphered for yourself. It was a choice you were debating, only for that choice to be ripped from your grasp.

“I really didn’t think he’d take it that far,” Damon tried and you just scowled at him, if looks could kill he’d be staked by now. You stood there for a moment, sorting through the mountain of emotions swirling through your head and your heart before laughter bubbled past your lips, true unfiltered laughter. 

“Is everything okay?” Stefan asked, entering the room and you noticed the blood bag in his hand he was trying to keep concealed.

“Oh, everything is just peachy,” you replied, thoroughly in a fit of giggles as Elena was pulled in by the sound and the three of them just watched through confused eyes with concerned expressions. “I mean, I don’t respond to texts for what…? Three hours? I try to have just one night to myself, and that’s the night you decide to piss off an original and I get murdered in the woods,” you ranted, breathless laughter still surrounding your words. “He called me collateral damage to whatever idiotic stunt you pulled with Rebekah. Collateral fucking damage,” you whispered the last part and Elena shared a look with Stefan that translated to what should we do? “That for me?” you asked, striding across the room and plucking the blood bag from his hands, and Elena flinched when you ripped the top of it off.

“You don’t have to drink it right now, you have time to decide-” Stefan started but another bout of laughter cut him off.

“Decide? That decision has already been made for me. I mean, what am I going to do, just let myself actually die?” you replied as you sucked the liquid down and he suddenly felt like he was in over his head. While this reaction from you wasn't shocking for Damon, Stefan had expected tears, breakdowns, and maybe a broken vase or two… but he might have been right about the breakdown, he was at a loss for any other way to describe what he was currently seeing. When the bag was empty you discarded it on Damon’s desk and took a moment to steady yourself, inhaling and exhaling all of the bad.

“Okay, what’s done is done.” you said suddenly and Elena’s face twisted up in confusion.

“It’s okay if you’re not okay, you can take a minute… process what happened,” she tried.

“Your emotions are really heightened right now, I think you should just sit down and take a beat.” Stefan added, and Damon was being unusually silent.

“Nope. I’m good, we can’t go back, we can’t change it… this is how things are. What’s done is done,” you repeated.

“That’s… it?” Elena asked and you nodded.

“That’s it. Now, I’m going to go home, take a shower, take a nap in my own bed, and I will be prepared for whatever hero monologue about self-control and moderation you were preparing during my brief stint into death tomorrow,” you said, directing the last bit to Stefan as you moved to exit the room and Damon cleared his throat.

“About that… you can’t leave, yet,” he said, voice cautious as you turned on your heel, eyes catching the sunlight and you took in another deep breath to steady yourself.

“Turns out we used the last lapis lazuli ring on hand for me…” Elena started, “Bonnie’s out getting one right now, but until then…”

“I’m stuck here.” you finished. You nodded, “perfect. Cool if I raid your kitchen?” you asked, but didn’t wait for a response. “Great, thanks so much.” You bounded down the stairs, stumbling on the landing as you realized you moved far quicker than you intended to… something for you to get used to, and you threw open the fridge with a huff as you sorted through its contents and settled on what looked like leftover takeout from the Thai place you loved so much, not even bothering to heat up the noodles as you hopped up onto the counter.

“By all means, help yourself, wasn’t looking forward to those later or anything,” Damon said as he entered and you let out a humorless laugh.

“Don’t even,” you warned as he leaned against the counter across from you. “Should I make you the same promise you made Stefan? An eternity of misery?” 

“I’d rather you didn’t,” he answered and you focused your attention on your noodles. “I’m sorry.”

“What for? It’s not like you pissed off Klaus and robbed me of having a say in how I live the rest of my life,” you replied and he nodded, knowing there wasn’t really anything he could say in this moment to make it right. “I meant what I said, what’s done is done. I just… I didn’t know if I wanted this,” you sighed.

“I know,” he responded, and he did. “I had a plan if you’d ever decided you wanted to.” he said, and that pulled your attention back to him, eyes curious and prompting him to continue. “I was going to give you one last truly epic human day… maybe a little road trip away from all the chaos here with greasy drive-thru french fries and milkshakes, deserted dive bars with questionable décor, cheesy roadside tourist traps, maybe a hike thrown in there to remind you of the utter humanness in struggling with something as simple as a walk. Then we’d stop at a motel, watch really terrible made-for-tv movies, and when you were all tuckered out and fast asleep that’s when I’d do it… so you’d just wake up in your new life.”

“That’s… oddly sweet,” you said, skepticism lacing your tone.

“Everyone’s story is traumatic… I didn’t want that for you. I wanted it to be easy, and peaceful.” he said and you smiled softly at the sentiment. “I’m really sorry my choices resulted in the opposite, and got your choice taken away.”

You sighed, “it’s okay. I meant what I said, what’s done is done. I have decided that I did decide I wanted this, I just hadn’t shared that with anyone yet and really Klaus did me a favor. I’m reframing and moving on.” 

He chuckled, “you’re incredible, you know that?” he asked as he stepped in between your legs, palms resting on your thighs. “I will spend the rest of my eternity making sure you have the most fulfilling vampire life possible. My bad choices are not going to hinder you from having the life you want, whatever that ends up looking like.”

You laughed, “you shouldn’t have told me that because you just gave me so much power,” you teased. “I already have a request.” 

“Whatever it is, consider it done,” he replied, smirking at you.

“Can you go get me some clothes from my house? Something cute and fun…. you’re taking me out as soon as the sun goes down because I’m hungry and not for something that comes out of a blood bag or a take-out container.”

“On it,” he answered, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “In the meantime, go upstairs and relax. Take a bath, raid the liquor cabinet, raid the fridge in the basement, whatever you want, and when I get back I’ll give you the best first night of vampirism you could ask for.” he said and you laughed as he disappeared, hopping down from the counter to follow his instructions. Sure, this wasn’t how you’d imagined it, before you woke up you weren’t even sure this was what you wanted, but there was no use dwelling on things that could be unchanged… there was only making the best of it, and welcoming your new life with open arms.

taglist: @caseysalvatore @minalblood @styxflower

[gingergofastboatsmojito]

Out of touch

Every time Syd and Carmy physically touched (so far)

Season 1

01X02 - Hands

01x07 - Review

The first time she touched him and he actually registered her touch, because the previous time it was in the middle of a fight, he wasn't thinking.

Season 2

02x02 - Pasta

02X03 - Sundae

02X08 - Bolognese

Let's go with the bonus track right now: This Sharpie touch doesn't count, right?

But when he pointed at those stains, he said: "Actually, I've got something for you. Uh... For later."

And she started to take off her jacket:

And then as she continued undressing in front of him, so to speak, he said:

Because he had forgotten to call the fridge guy. Again.

I just find it funny that that was his word choice as she was taking off her jacket... he could have said: "Damn it!" or cussed in any other way, but he looked at her straight in the eye, as she was removing her chef's whites right in front of him and went: "Fuck me!". No touching, though. OK, moving on.

Season 3

In S3 it's like they are deliberately trying not to touch:

03x01 - Tomorrow

Avoiding contact, but close. In every sense, which is a rapport they maintained throughout the whole season, till Forever.

03X10 - Forever

So what we have here is literally Sydcarmy being OUT OF TOUCH with each other, very clearly and graphically depicted by Storer throughout S3, and an even clearer decrease in contact if we take into account all 3 seasons.

It's not like they touched so much before but we can clearly see the decrease in contact.

The physicality wasn't there, and neither was the best verbal communication to compensate for the lack of it.

They were growing apart and not talking about it.

There was less contact in every sense, not just physical but the physical manifestation was just ANOTHER manifestation of their distance, which obviously was also emotional.

So, my guess is that in S4 we will either get a SIMULTANEOUS recovery in the physical aspect and better verbal communication because this was rock bottom and there's no way but up from here, plus the CRISIS of Syd probably quitting will force a change

OR

What we will see FIRST is a PHYSICAL MANIFESTATION of non-verbal communication + a PROGRESSIVE IMPROVEMENT in verbal communication.

Because they will either get out of the woods all at once, during an EPIC argument or any situation where emotions are running high and they have NO FILTER, which is what I hope happens.

OR

The change will be progressive, slow but sure, and the full manifestation of it will be explicit by eps 4x9/4x10, which may or may not be the series finale, as S5 is not confirmed yet but by the time S4 is out, it may be... who knows? If this is how Storer decides to go about it, then the PHYSICAL aspect will be the first thing we see, the non-verbal shift, and THEN the verbal communication will follow and they will start using words that actually matter, FULL SENTENCES, as opposed to leaving most things unsaid or "saving it for later" because there may not be a later to talk about anyway.

[inkyvendingmachine]

T'was The Night Before Crisis... Season 4, Episode 1

💀 Call of Cthulhu: Haunted Hijinx Masterpost 💀 Call of Cthulhu Season Four Masterpost (Coming Soon)

Warning: This campaign is an edited version of  a Call of Cthulhu scenario from the Tales of the Crescent City book. While a lot has been changed, there IS spoilers for it throughout these posts.

WE'RE BACK. After over a whole heckin year of 10000 RP logs, we have returned with our final season of Cthulhu! It's been not just a year out of game, but a little over a year worth of in game time has passed too, and they boys are indulging in a chill, at home seasonal celebration... for now! Surely nothing weird will happen, nothing ever does around holidays for these boys obviously.

:)

Happy Holidays!

Art Credit: @inkdemonapologist : sketching + inking @inkyvendingmachine : concept + colouring

A week. Two weeks. A month. A season. A year.

A whole year and a couple of months go by without any crazy outside force trying to rid the boys of… anything really. The time isn't exactly calm or empty… but compared to recent events, for a while, things were… kinda normal?

Well, except for when Joey got Peter to help him meet with Y secretly to prevent the gang from continuing to mess with JDS, or when Sammy and Henry realized mid tennis match that a version of Henry had slashed him right through the center. Or how the Prophet can just pop out now without ink. And how Susie has been brought in on all this, and perhaps brought in on even more than just the supernatural content as her bonds with Sammy and Joey grow tighter. And how Peter is actually moving to New York City now and ends up visiting Jack just as Beans goes missing and now there’s many little Beans kittens. And the summoning spell to ask the spirit that helped them in Haiti what will become of Sammy and Prophet. And the other summoning spell for Prophet to get his instructions from the Masked Messenger. And Sammy still can't tell where he's going half the time after uncovering some of Prophet’s memories. And Joey is still a bit hesitant to leave the studio if not being actively distracted. But other than that! It's been normal!!

And the boys have made it all the way to Christmas. Joey's received some parcels in the mail, from the Fowlers and Nicole. The Fowlers actually sent each of the helpful boys uh… 1000$?? That's a thousand. EACH. IN THE 1930s. For helping out… which I guess if stuck eternally in soul lake hell, wouldn't have that money anyways. But still, that's quite a lot for the time.

Meanwhile, Nicole has had time to move on from her heartbreak, and is ready to start a new chapter in her life, and as thanks, leaves Joey both the keys to her old apartment (the lease being paid up for a few years already) and to her previous car, with a guarantee she's giving these things up for better, not to worry about her. And totally not because maybe all the occult scratches and bullet marks in the wall makes the apartment hard to rent, or the fact that her car is an extremely recognized Mercedes, or that both of these assets were hounded by gangs for a bit after her magical mistakes…

It probably is actually all out of good will and appreciation, and these things will come in useful, especially if they do need to deal with more mafia or what have you. Joey doesn't need them tracking Henry's car home to his family or back to Jack's house.

With those gifts out of the way, the actual holiday is spent in Jack's house, with a big potluck meal. This holiday celebration includes a small group of friends and their families, namely, all the people Jack has befriended and also would be okay with the Lurker partying with em. The event goes well, Sammy gets to play through the night, Henry’s children get to hang out with a real Bendy and also a buncha newly grown-up cats, Henry gets to eat as many cookies as he wants… 

That… slows down when Henry sees a yellow sign in a ribbon. But as soon as he tries to not lose his entire cool and freak out, it disappears… the ribbon was just a ribbon the entire time. Perhaps golden ribbons shouldn't be their normal holiday decor… 

Meanwhile, Peter feels eyes on him and decides to move away from the window maybe, especially because it feels like he suddenly knew exactly which star in the sky holds Carcosa at the same time… surely a fine coincidence to have happened at almost the same time. But nobody else is acting weirdly, sooooo.

The night wraps up, with Susie and Norman heading out first, followed by Henry and his family. Sammy also heads home after being socially exhausted and desperately needing his alone time, and Peter helps Jack clean up some before heading out too. Jack heads to bed, only to find an already asleep Joey with a Spark sprawled on top of him, probably after he “closed his eyes for a moment” a little earlier. 

The next day, there's technically work, but it's a short day because what's actually happening is a charity auction and party. A collection of “originals, signed by the creators” has been donated to help raise money for relief efforts in a few warring European countries, as well as the “entertainment” for the evening (Bendy cartoons, of course), courtesy of JDS, which means of course all the stars who signed the auctioned items were invited to the party as well.

Yes, even Sammy. 

(And also Jack, Henry, Susie, and Joey of course.)

The event is being held at a yacht club, advertised to the wealthies of the city midst the great depression, with live music playing and glittering evening wear, and uh. Denis.

Y'know, Denis?? That rich guy from NOLA who invited us to the masquerade?? That Joey casually name dropped his legal name to in order to keep him from tracing himself and Sammy back to JDS, when they didn't know who or how dangerous their initial information gathering was.

Anyways, a quick little talking him in circles by Joey corrects that past mistake, as well as gets him the information that Denis is actually related to one of the people who put the entire event together. Ha. Good to know.

Of course it's difficult to shake him afterwards, since Joey is one of the few people Denis knows all the way up in New York. At least Joey actually has a fancy car to talk about now.

Meanwhile, in the quietest, emptiest corner he could find, Sammy notices something odd about the song that's currently being played live. It sounds familiar, and while surely there's been some Bendy music played this evening…. This particular song is not that. But it WAS composed by Sammy.

In NOLA.

When he was improvising with some random music on the street while hanging out on the balcony of his and Joey's hotel room. Properly freaked out by having a song from a very scary time literally come back to haunt him, Sammy runs to find someone, (Joey is still busy with Denis), and comes across Jack first. But before he can fully explain, the entire party is interrupted.

Chatter turns into hushed confusion as some pale man up near the front starts speaking in tongues. It's hard to tell if he's trying to perform some ritual or just incoherently rambling, but it doesn't matter! Because very quickly there’s a gunshot!!

And the Prophet? He's awake. He knows what that gunshot was. He's been waiting for this.

It has begun.

Of course the entire party breaks out in panic once the gun goes off. Joey doesn't know what sort of Eldritch nonsense was happening up front, but upon scanning the crowd and noticing Jack and Sammy together, beelines for the snack table to grab Henry and search for Susie.

As everyone is being rushed out, some of the boys manage to notice that not all of the panic is simply from the mad ramblings and sudden bullet, but also we've got some people in the crowd bleeding from their eyes. How festive!

Upon getting outside, the Yacht club is of course already being surrounded by security and the police, as the sudden gun shots quickly alerted locals to the nonsense going on. Nobody is allowed to bolt until an investigation is conducted and people are questioned, but of course Joey managed to sweet talk his way over to a telephone to make a very important quick phone call.

To one Peter Sunstram! 

Turns out, between all their arguments, there are a few things they can agree on, which includes quietly spying on suspicious parties even though they should probably not be doing that if they actually wanna be safe but surely everyone will understand when they find out IT'S FINE.

Anyways Peter’s been keeping an eye on Y, and earlier in the day Y seemed to be performing some ritual before having some kind of … breakthrough? Revelation? Peter had told Joey of it, and in good faith Joey agreed to keep an eye out for WEIRDNESS, hoping that Y was upholding his promise to not be interfering with JDS anymore. But now this episode seems to have specifically happened, right at their exact event for the evening, so Joey does his best to pass along as much info as he can in that moment to Peter. As well as set up a backup plan in case anything else happens to them before they can escape the Yacht Club.

After some interviews with the police though, they’re allowed to go free. Listening to other partygoers' recollections they’re able to pick up a few more names here and there – the one who fired the gun up front by the bandstand is said to be another local gangster by the name of Johnny Nero, and the band playing on that bandstand one Red Leverett and the Jumps – but no evidence that really points the crew in any sort of serious lead. (including more commentary by Denis wHY ARE YOU STILL HERE UR NOT PART OF THE GROUP)

So having managed to collect everyone together, including Prophet returning Sammy to the front for the interview thank the lord (not that one)(not that one either)(maybe that one) the JDS crew head over to their very safe and secure hide away to talk about what just happened: that’s right, they’re going to Peter’s apartment.

And staying there through midnight! Listen, the last time weird shit started happening like this, everything popped off at midnight and there were panics all around. It’d be nice to know where people were this evening. And while they’re all sitting around waiting for that to pass, Henry and Peter can even talk about the really weird things that happened last night! Yknow, where Henry saw the yellow sign for a moment and Peter felt something watching him from space? Those very normal Christmas activities?

The group also gets informed about how Peter maybe has been keeping an eye on the Y that still hangs out in the city, and how Y was excited over some weird ritual. While he goes over that and also Joey and Peter guiltily kinda admit to their secret spying tendencies, Henry gets info from Linda when he calls to explain why he’s not home yet and how he won’t be home for a little while still. She’s remembered some research that crosses over with the prophecies they had gotten a month or so after the last big event like this. And Jack and Sammy bring up how they had been theorizing over who’s and what’s in the prophecies… for instance, that which the Phantom seeks, who bears already the scars of following the Mender’s lead….

Is it Peter? He followed Jack into the weird ghosty world. Is it Joey? He’s followed the Mender in other ways, and also literally bears scars caused from Jack’s healing. Or is it somehow Y?? Who seems… involved in this somehow, despite promising he wouldn’t be fucking around with stuff that might step on JDS’s toes again.

With no real conclusions, but midnight having come and past, people start to head home. Joey has someone drop him off at the studio, as after weirdness happened with any sort of occult stuff he’s interested in checking in on Bendy and the Stone. Since, those tend to be targets for this kinda creepy thing. Bendy is perfectly fine though, and hardly even noticed anything going on… So Joey picks up some of his notes and… finds himself unable to leave the studio. For some reason it just seems like the wrong idea… so he spends all night up researching, unsettled by how many non-leads he has into what will possibly happen next. It’s starting to feel like Haiti again, knowing that something bad is coming but really having no idea where to fortify with this information.

But he does have something new… 

He has plenty of things new now, including his dream spell. 

Peter’s not the only one who can spy, and while Joey is sure he’d hit some kind of barrier trying to peek in on Y’s dreams… just knowing whether the man was still alive, or possessed by some eldritch nonsense seemed like a good place to start. Maybe his excitement at the ritual earlier was coincidental…

The thing is, defying all reason, Joey’s able to step into Y’s dream just fine somehow.

This is probably not something he’ll regret doing later, surely.

[Next Episode] (not yet released)

[lostryu]

i need gay rights because literally not a single self-proclaimed cis/het 'ally' understands the alienating experience that comes with being the only gay person in the workplace.

i am a gnc butch lesbian. i use he/him pronouns. when i came out to my manager regarding my pronouns (i had been an open lesbian since the moment of my hire), she told me that she supported me, but she could not enforce or ask our clients to use the correct pronouns for me. she told me it was something i would have to learn to deal with. she never uses the correct pronouns for me unless a person from a different department (who also happens to be LGBT+) is present. she is our HR in addition to manager.

none of my coworkers in my department ever remember to use my pronouns. if i remind them, they go over the top with the "im sorry's" and the "im still learning" and "you know i try my hardest's!" and "i swear im not homophobic!", it has been over 6 months since i came out. if i say nothing, they continue to use she/her (unless that other lgbt+ person from the other department is present, then they miraculously get it right).

sometimes they call me 'girl'. they always flounder and correct to "man-boy-uh youknowwhatimeanright". they laugh it off. they never bother to ask what terms i am comfortable with, or if i even cared in the first place. they don't care about my gender, they never bother to ask. somehow the subject gets changed every time i try to tell them, or set a boundary.

once in a while in a slow shift, the conversation will hop to our dating lives. somehow, it always jumps to how men suck and how dating a woman must be so much easier. they wish they could be gay and not straight. every time, they'll stare at me expectantly, like i am an animal at the zoo. no matter what i say, positive or negative, i must be lying. i cannot be that happy in my relationship, or if i have any issues, they must be minor. if i say 'why don't you try dating a girl then' to their remarks, they'll laugh, say something like "there is no way i possibly could" with that special tone of disguised disgust.

i am a prop, at work. they tell me about how much they love their kids. how they could bring anyone home and they wouldn't care. "they could be black, brown, or purple," they'll say "it could be a woman or a man! I support gay rights!" Then they will talk about how hungry they are, and how they will be going to Chick Fil a for the 4th time this week. 'as a treat'. it is thursday. they talk about going to Hobby Lobby again for christmas decorations, or another sale. sometimes i think i can taste blood.

its june. they talk about the pride parade and how excited they are to see the queens and their 'funny costumes'. they talk about how fun it is to go and watch, how they like the free things the corporations hand out. they don't want to bring their younger kids though. they're not old enough. they do not know that the first pride was a riot. they do not know what happened during the AIDS crisis, how many died. they don't really care when i try to tell them, they'd rather focus on the fun parts of the parade. the spectacle.

i wear a pronoun pin, to make it easier. still somehow no one can get my pronouns right. a client notices it. commends me for "being brave" and "coming out." she never uses my correct pronouns. i stopped wearing the pin after the 11th person asked me if my name on my name tag was my real one, and after the 45th person went out of their way to use incorrect pronouns every sentence. my manager, the HR, did not care.

i need gay rights, but somehow everything got resolved when they allowed us to marry in 2015. to our allies, the work is done. somehow i am left more alone than when we started.

[ghoulysaphomet]

had a flashback of when i misunderstood a prompt and drew dick in a bunny suit and i just had like the thought of bisexual disaster tim drake combusting.

like..

Dick & Jay are undercover. And wearing bunny suits. at like a queer place, possibly.

imagine hes been dragged to a gay club by his friends and didnt know previously and there is dick serving drinks and hes already like oh no.

turns around and there is jay, no binder tits filling out bunny suit nicely and tims like oh no.

tims like having a crisis meanwhile his friends are like dude its dick!! oh and the one who tried to kill you??

i imagine kon calling him n being like hey dude are u ok ur heart is going fkn crazy rn and tim cant say anything but "wheh"

"is he being hot or is he tryna kill you again?"

"bleh"

"uh-uh"

"bn."

"mhm.."

"bhn!!"

"i see."

"ther's tw' of em"

"..two of them?"

"dcik"

"ah."

"wegh"

"yeah"

meanwhile jason and dick are like

"oh, that's tim. what should we do?"

"he's trained, hopefully he'll act like he doesn't know us?"

"he's been staring at us"

"he does that sometimes, im sure it's fine. just ignore him"

"..okay"

'maybe hes starin cause hes not use to seeing us lookin like we just starred in a gay porno'

"that could be it, it must be.. weird for him, i hope hes not too uncomfortable::/."

meanwhile tims trying not to literally drool and not pop a boner (that ship sails when jay walks and his tits jiggle and dick shasays with his back to tim)

the only downside for tim is they are obviously wearing makeup to hide as many scars as they can.

(all tim can think about for the next few days is those outfits. he hacks the clubs security cameras to get footage of them)

next time he sees jay "oh hi its boob to see you- good! good to see you"

[steventhusiast]

STWG prompt 14/2/24

prompt: missing an important phone call

pairing/character(s): steddie

vaguely modern au because idk how answering machines worked in the 80s

Eddie almost feels bad when Steve opens his door, hair a limp mess on his forehead and eyes squinting in the light. He looks like he literally just woke up.

Which is great news for Eddie, because that means he's not had time to do anything yet today. Like... check his landline for voicemails, for example.

Which is great for Eddie! Drunk Eddie made some bad decisions last night relating to said voicemail. And Eddie intends to fix said decisions. Immediately.

"Eddie..? What's up, man?" Steve asks with a yawn, and then scrunches his eyes closed then open a few times in an effort to wake himself up a little.

"Uh, so, I need to- have you used your phone yet today?" Eddie asks, unable to help the stuttering, and Steve tilts his head and then shakes it slowly.

"No, why?"

"Oh. I, um, my phone's broken... Can I use your landline?"

Steve examines him for a second, eyes still a little squinted, and then nods with a huff.

"Knock yourself out."

And with that, Steve trudges back toward his bedroom, and Eddie's pretty sure he hears another yawn escape him as he goes. Again, he almost feels bad.

But then he thinks about the friendship he's saving by doing this, and the awkwardness he's avoiding, and the pitying look he'll inevitably get from Steve after the fact and- the guilt goes away. This is the right thing to do.

As soon as he gets to the phone, he holds it up to his ear and starts to play the voicemails.

"Heyyy Stevie-bee... I just got home from.. a night with Jeff. You know Jeff, he's great.. Anyway. I saw this guy at the club and Jeff thought I should- should hit on him! We were at a, you know.. a safe club for it, but. I didn't wanna- I couldn't. Y'know why? The guy wasn't you, Stevie. He wasn't you, and I didn'-"

He abruptly presses the delete button.

"Can't believe the beep cut me off when I was sayin' how much I wanna... kiss yo-"

Delete.

"Just realised the time. You're probably asleep right now. I bet you look so cute and your face is doin' that... scrunched up thing-"

Delete.

"Wish that guy had been you, Steve."

Delete.

And then, silence. No more new messages.

Thank fuck. Crisis averted.