#yeah that felt homoerotic to me

[where-that-old-train-goes]

thing about tumblr is i can’t say “hey this song between two men literally called ‘your obedient servant’ feels a little homoerotic” without people assuming i ship actual american founding fathers because. there are people here who do that

[skrunksthatwunk]

stole this chart from @asubakaa and spent wayyy too much time making my own so. yeah. also i did 6 instead of 5 bc i know no restraint

[foxmulderautism]

like beau in this kind of fit for the halloween party meets a man who will be his lover for one night and the man slowly and delicately unravels the ribbon around his neck i don't know what happens next but that to me is gay sex. at its core

[patchouii]

It’s peak comedy how in episode one, Alana’s all like “Even if he doesn’t see me and even though Hannibal is great, Will hates therapists and knows all the tricks, so he avoids being honest, etc”. And Will is very vocal about his dislike of therapists, especially since one of them presumably leaked his patient information in the past with Chilton’s comments about how the Baltimore psychiatric scene probably wants to slice open his skull Hannibal-style. And then in episode two he shows up to see his new therapist, who had previously seen him in his underwear and brought him breakfast instead of just sending him some autoreply email for new patients, and says he wants to go back to work because killing Hobb felt good and powerful.

And instead of being disturbed, his new therapist goes on a tangent about how that’s totally valid because God kills people, actually, corners him up against a ladder while asking him how he feels, serves him alcohol during their 7:30 pm appointments, constantly says that Will’s his “friend” and that they’re having “unofficial therapy” or “just conversations”. And pushes the chairs closer so that he can sit closer to him. If that was my therapist, I would’ve been out of there like a shot, so there’s absolutely NO way that Will didn’t smell something generally fishy. Even Bedelia calls Hannibal on his obsessive behavior and says that it’s verging on unhealthy for him, too, and going to turn out badly, and sets a clear boundary between patient and friend while Hannibal affords her the freedom.

Like Will was a professor of criminal profiling who had to study psychology and was constantly begged by the BAU boss to glean people’s thoughts and motives, who’d seen therapists before and is friends with a generic nice therapist, can probably use his empathy to sense the massive weirdly intimate vibes Hannibal is giving off, there’s no way he thought to himself “Yeah, this is totally normal and not at all legally, procedurally, and morally sketchy as fuck, and also very lacking in homoerotic tension and heated eye contact.” Will saw the tip of the iceberg from the start. Instead of letting Will dive in on his own like he probably would’ve, he had to hit Will with it all Titanic style after hiding it by messing with his head. Hannibal could’ve been messing with his other head all along if he’d had less of an insane control complex….

[hyperballart]

last nite

art donaldson x patrick zweig x reader !

art and patrick aren’t exactly subtle, and you are the push they didn’t know they needed.

(18+ pls!!)

author’s note: that one bitch (me) who doesn’t play about homoerotic friendships… this is mostly artrick but they all get nasty trust!

the swishing of the cheap beer from art’s mini fridge overlaps the song playing from the radio. it was something you recognized from this new york band you really liked—your friend had gifted you that record for your birthday a few years prior—you hummed out the tune as you sat on the desk chair of your friend’s dorm room, periodically lifting your gaze to the two boys also sharing the space.

you and patrick met at a local band’s show, that same night ended with you being pushed into the dark bathroom of the bar it was held at and you nearly swallowing each other’s tongues. he whispered into your ear about how good you tasted, how nice your ass felt in his hands, how fucking sexy you looked dancing out there. and after he bent you over the sink to get a taste of your sweet cunt and you returned the favor, the brunette gave you his number—it surprised you, that he wanted to continue seeing you and maybe take it further. it wasn’t until a couple hangouts that you met art.

he was by definition a good boy. always respectful and cordial around you, sweet, and even bashful at times. you coincidentally attended the same university—even shared common friends other than patrick. the three of you became well acquainted quickly. movie nights in art’s dorm when patrick came to visit, night drives to the beach, it was all simple and fun.

of course you and patrick hooked up whenever he came around, which seemed to frequent as he was on a month-long break from tour. on one of those particular nights, as you were riding him, somehow the topic of art came up.

“saw him at practice last week,” you take his earlobe between your teeth and slightly tug, “he’s really good.”

patrick stutters his hips and unwillingly twitches inside of you, as if images of his best friend playing flashed through his brain in those few seconds, “fuck, yeah he’s always been good.” his brain is too foggy to comprehend that he’s given away something you’ve been suspecting for a while—and you’ll keep digging to find what you really want.

you look down at him on the bed and notice how his mouth has dropped a bit further and his eyes become more slanted, you push your fingers into his mouth which he automatically starts to suck, and you ride him until he’s whimpering around them and filling you up. you’ll get something else out of him soon.

the next time happens to be the night right after, you’re at your favorite ice cream place and decide it’s the right time to keep prodding.

“you and art—you seem pretty close—how long have you known each other again?” you scrape the sides of your cup from the melted treat and look at him eating his.

“well, we went to boarding school together,” patrick speaks with some waffle cone bits crunching in his mouth—a horrible habit of his you have come to detest from the few months of knowing him—“we shared a room since we were 12, i think i’ve mentioned this,” he swallows everything in his mouth down and continues, “we are pretty close. we’d get teased for it a lot in school—i never really gave a fuck but you know art. he takes things to heart.”

“right, i can see that,” you didn’t exactly plan out how you were going to lead him to where you wanted but you get an idea, “i wanna know more. tell me some fun stories, i can imagine you two got up to a lot of trouble,” you fully turn to face him in your seat.

he racks his brain for a while and eventually, “one time i got caught with porno magazines under my bed and i blamed art. it was this whole thing—his grandma gave him an earful over the phone—god she was pissed,” a chuckle leaves him as he recalls the story, “anyway, we almost got kicked out and he didn’t speak to me for weeks. can’t remember how we made up or how i even got in possession of those magazines but we definitely learned our lesson.”

you’re giggling, “god you’re awful, what else have you put poor innocent art through?”

he turns to face you now, “i taught him everything he knows,” a smug smirk slowly takes over his expression, “ taught him how to kiss and how to jerk off. poor thing didn’t even know how to handle morning wood before i showed him.”

and there’s your chance, “so you two have like…”

he pauses and takes in your assumption, “oh god no, not like that,” a hand runs down his face quickly as a laugh of disbelief leaves him. “we’ve never—would never go there, you know? no shame to anyone who does we just—it was practice before we started dating and all that. was just helping him out.”

and well, that gave you enough of an incentive.

now you’re all in art’s dorm, a little buzzed from the alcohol and tired from a day at the beach. patrick sits on a small couch with his legs spread. both boys have decided to forgo their shirts, only in their swim trunks—patrick’s much shorter than the blonde’s. you still in your bikini top and tiny jean shorts.

“what about that girl you were seeing, what’s her name again?” patrick interrogates a clearly agitated art who sits on the floor rolling his eyes.

“i told you that’s over, she wasn’t looking for anything serious and i found out the hard way.”

“he means he saw her making out with one of his buddies at a frat party,” you add smirking over your bottle.

“okay, fuck off first of all—“

“hey, man calm down, look—“ patrick interjected, “there’s lots of chicks that would bang you, i’m sure a pretty boy like you has no problem getting laid. go charm up some nice girl that volunteers at the soup kitchen on her free time and—“

“fuck you patrick.” there’s no malice behind his words though—and you can spot the blush that takes over his pale complexion at the previous remark as he shakes his head. “it’s easy for you to say,” he looks up at you as he says it, “you guys fuck like rabbits any chance you get.”

“is that what it is then? you being pent up?” you cut in. “there’s lot of girls here who would love to fuck you, artie. you’re telling me none have caught your eye?”

art is silent, looking to see what patrick was thinking, but the latter simply looks curious—excited almost— and so he just sits picking at the hem of his shorts.

“oh i get it,” you continue, “you’re jealous. you think i’m taking your precious best friend away, don’t you?” you slide down from the chair to take a spot right next to him and whisper the next thing so only he hears, “you are jealous. don’t worry, we can share him.”

you pull back to see his pupils dilated and his mouth slightly parted, in shock and arousal—maybe even in acceptance. you can’t help the small grin as you look from him to the other still sitting on the couch, you can see his chest rising a bit heavier now.

you feel that as an agreement from both as you perch on the bed and call them both to follow at each of your sides. you can feel them eyeing you and for a split second, you see them staring at each other in a way that surpasses anything platonic they insist on having.

when you feel them both lean in to opposite sides of your neck you halt their movements. a look of confusion passes through their faces as they wait for you to explain.

“i think you guys have some making up to do,” the look on their faces creases further, “art, aren’t you curious to feel what his lips are like again? i have a feeling he has improved greatly since you were 13.”

art’s face falls, he looks at patrick in annoyance, “you said you would never tell, dude what the fuck.”

patrick just shrugs, still wanting to proceed. “i told you, that was only for practice. we’re grown now.”

“sure,” you pretend to let it go and you have on a stupid smile that he just wants to kiss off your face. you start leaning towards patrick and grant him that wish, using your hand on his jaw to give you access to his tongue. it quickly becomes heated, you land on his lap and grind yourself on the hard bulge in his trunks. his big hand gropes your ass and he moans greedily in your mouth. you pull away and let him suck and nip on the length of your neck before looking at art, who looks pitiful with his mouth hung open and his eyes lingering on the spot where patrick is occupied. a smirk returns to your swollen lips.

you tug on patricks hair and swivel even harder on his dick, leading to him groaning out a fuck me baby, and you swear you see art’s cock twitch under the layer of thin clothing. you leave patricks lap despite his efforts to keep you there, now sat on the pretty blonde who can’t seem to figure out what to do with his hands. you stop his stressing when you place both of his palms on your hips, trailing them up to your barely-covered tits where he gives a soft squeeze and lets out a little whine. you finally lean down to kiss him and it’s as you’d expect from him—tentative and soft. a kiss you’d get from a boyfriend after a nice dinner date—not from whatever this was.

he lets out hums and low moans, but you can tell he’s getting desperate. god knows how long it’s been since he’s fucked something other than his hand. you pull away and return to your spot between them. they instantly both try to catch your lips, it’s messy with all three of you licking and sucking and kissing. at this point no one knows whose mouth is whose, and it doesn’t even matter because suddenly you’re pulling off. you lean back to catch your breath and then you see them.

they lick into each other’s mouths, art is mewling and patrick grips his curls to hold him in place. they seem to catch on after a ridiculous amount of time but when they do, they stare at you while they’re heaving breaths.

“are you guys gonna take care of that?” you look down at their laps, both having matching leaks of pre bleeding through their shorts. “come on get them out, you’ve seen each other plenty before right? nothing to be shy of.”

they both listen, each erection slapping up and standing on its own. it’s obscene and you dont think you’ve ever been this wet in your life. art’s cock is so pretty—you think—pink and curved. he is smooth, you always had assumed he would be anyway. you can tell he takes good care of himself, his balls the same flushed pink he gets on his cheeks when you tease him. the tip of him is so red, a dribble of white streaming down when he notices your attention on his cock—you almost coo at it when it twitches.

then you look at patrick. that same cock you love and worship. he’s thicker in girth, your pussy pulsates when your mind trails to the stretch he gives you. his balls are heavy, and he doesn’t ever fully shave them. you like them like that—the musk and how they give friction to your clit when hes fucking you. he’s also drooling from his tip. you decide to start off slow.

you scoot forwards and extend your arms to their laps. each one of your hands holds them and at the contact, they can’t help but buck their hips. you think it’s adorable to see them synchronized like that.

“ah, shit!” patrick throws his head back and looks down at you jerking him off, then looks to his right at the other cock in your hand and shakes his head in disbelief, “i can’t—fuck—i can’t believe you’re doing this.”

“i see the way you look at him, pat,” you quicken the speed of your hands and both of them cry out, “i gave you both what you wanted, handed on a silver fucking platter. i think you should be a little more grateful. in fact, my hands are getting tired,” and with that, you cut all contact with them and you can quite literally see them wilt.

“wha- no, please,” art manages to get through a whine, “my hand doesn’t—it doesn’t feel as good i’m so hard it hurts, please—“

“who said anything about using your own hand?”you cut him off.

patrick hesitantly stretches his arm over his friend’s lap, “we’re just,” his fingers make contact with art’s dick and he almost drools, “helping each other out.” an experimental tug has his back arching and makes him shut his eyes tight.

“pat-patrick—oh fuck.”

one would think art already came by how much he’s wetting his friend’s hand, and patrick seems to be mesmerized by the sight. “holy fuck art, look at how much you’re spilling,” as if on cue, that makes him squirt out more. art is gripping his sheets and his eyes dart from the hand stroking him fast and the boy in front of him.

“i’m—don’t go so fucking fast,” art tries to get out, “it’s been a while if—nghh—if you don’t slow down i’m gonna—fuck!” patrick clearly enjoys this as he can’t help laughing at his state.

“don’t tell me you’re a virgin, artie,” he slows down but continues teasing, “thought i taught you how to hold off better than that.”

and while you’d love to keep watching art squirm under his torture, you stop him, “i got an idea.”

patrick reluctantly pulls away and they both now stare expectantly, “push both of your cocks together, here like this—“ you direct them to sit with their legs spread in front of each other, overlapping and then you position them how you want them.

they can’t even speak, they’re just panting and looking down at the contact until you continue, “come on pat, hold both of them together,” you watch as he does so and grimaces trying to hold off, “look at that, your tips are kissing—how cute.”

they both whine and patrick mutters a shut up under his breath.

after a minute of heavy breathing, patricks large hand slowly strokes down on both of their cocks. it’s so wet, the sound of the slicking lewdly filling up the room but the sound of their cries is almost enough to drown it out. art is almost sobbing at this point, you’ve never heard someone sound so desperate. they almost can’t bare the friction of each other, their tangled legs twitching and shaking.

you almost start to get annoyed at how slow patrick is going for the sake of making the feeling last, but in a way you think it’s sweet. the years they’ve held off on each other finally leading to this—they deserved it. you’re still annoyed tho.

“go faster,” as the words leave your mouth they both mewl and shake their heads, “you look so hot like this, i’m so wet. i’m thinking of letting you both fuck me—at the same time. just like this, both in my cunt,” patrick’s hand loosens his grip he is almost shivering now, he has to hold off, “why’d you let go, hm?” you pull his hand back on, “i want you both to imagine it, it’s gonna be a tighter fit than this,” you pull your hand over patrick’s and tighten the grip hard, “there you go.”

art can’t even make out words anymore, the second he heard you say you wanted them both at once, his ears started ringing. as if that wasn’t enough, the tightened grip made him moan out pleas over and over. when he looks down, he knows he can’t hold longer and he lets you both know, “i’m gonna, i can’t it’s too much, too much, too tight i—“

you take this as your chance to do what you wanted since you saw the tent in his shorts, you lean down to where they are connected and suckle on his tip and that does it. he sobs out a curse and starts twitching, he cums all over your lips and patrick, you can’t believe how much is coming out of him.

patrick just about loses his mind when he sees it all happen. it’s a miracle he lasted over two minutes like this and he’s about to pass out, “oh fuck me, yeah fucking soak that dick—oh god— you’re so wet—how do you get this fucking—“ he suddenly yanks art by his neck and fucks his tongue into his mouth again, and even tho he is still dizzy from his orgasm, he kisses back just as messily. that’s the final straw for patrick to cum all over them and squeeze their tips together for the last time that night.

you watch it all happen with a lazy smile. they both lay down, still out of it while you scratch their heads gently and murmur sweet affirmations to them. you’re between them and it feels just right. you don’t need to talk about what happened just yet. just sleepily kiss each other until you knock out.

they’ll make up not making you cum tomorrow, you can picture them both licking between your legs and when they take turns suckling your clit, you’ll pretend not to notice how they’re jerking each other off out of your sight <3

[vijaxx]

tell me that i'm pretty, tell me that i'm yours.

summary: on a late night in la, you and billie have a talk.

warnings: fluff (?), suggestive, smoking, deep talks

"you shouldn't do that, you know".

billie jumped in surprise at your voice coming from behind her as she smoked on the balcony. she shrugged absentmindedly and lit another cigarette. "how many is this?" you asked, walking up to lean on the railing next to her.

the lights of la gleamed in the midnight blue sky, a slight chill through the air. "fourth," she replied, "but it's not a big deal". you never liked when she smoked, but there was an aura around her as she did it, never making eye contact with you as she brought the lit cigarette to her lips.

the smoke danced around her, and you could tell that this was to calm her nerves. "you know i don't like when you smoke," you slouched against the railing, looking at her pretty eyes that were focused on the scenery. "i know you do." she murmurred, running a hand through her hair.

the silence wasn't uncomfortable, but things needed to be said. "i've never smoked," you admitted, laughing dryly. she then made eye contact with you for the first time. "you haven't?" billie asked, "you seem like a stoner." you tilted your head to the side, "i'm not against marijuana. just cigarettes and vapes. that shit kills you."

billie nodded in understanding. "i could show you how." your eyes widened. there was nothing to lose. it was a peaceful night in la, you were on a balcony with your pretty best friend, and about to have the most homoerotic experience with her if you agreed. so you nodded. going against every moral you had, you caved as her pretty lips curled into a smile.

"atta girl," she responded, her ever present smirk on her face. "part your lips," she murmured cupping your jaw and squeezing your cheeks, encouraging your mouth to open. she placed the cigarette against your lips carefully, tugging on your bottom lip before letting it snap back into place.

"breathe." she commanded. you took a sharp breath at her words, inhaling quickly and coughing. "slow down, sweet girl." your mind went blurry as she called you petnames and the quick inhalation of nicotine hit.

"try it again." she placed it against your lips, as you breathed calmly, inhaling the smoke. "there we go. that's my good girl." you felt your cheeks heat as she toyed with you.

by the time you were completely high (and so was she), she started kissing your neck. "god you're such a fucking pretty girl," she groaned against your neck, biting at the sensitive skin.

as you let out woozy whimpers, she rested her hand on your thigh, liting another cigarette for herself. "do you want one?" she asked, tender eyes meeting yours.

you'd do anything to make this moment last, "yeah. yes please." she chuckled at your politeness, "baby has manners, no?". you flushed and reached for her lighter as she handed you a cigarette, but she moved it away.

instead, she leaned towards you and lit yours with hers. "that's it. nice and slow, baby." she cooed as you took more daring breaths.

it wasn't until the next morning that the high had worn off, and that you were in her bed, naked.

you had a lot to talk about.

a/n: hiiii so i wrote this cause i could <3

👾 : @47lake , @hkkuugu , @st0nerlesb0 , @n0vabug , @everythingtruly, @eeuni

[binarisunset]

I already made a similar post but I will never stop talking about how galaxy-brained it was to give President Snow a homoerotic friendship. Like it’s genuinely mind blowing to me.

President Snow? The evil old man from those books/movies that were really popular a while ago? Oh yeah he had a life-altering situationship with a guy he hated when he was a teen. No, the other guy never did anything to him, Snow just envied him and felt he was owed everything the other guy had.

Yes, Snow eventually got him killed and took over the other’s guys life, stealing his place in his family, his house, his fortune. His future.

He would’ve never become the evil dictator he was predestined to be if he didn’t get this other boy killed by the way.

Yes, their stories and entwined tightly like that. President Snow wouldn’t exist if it wasn’t for this one boy he was close to for a couple months when he was eighteen years old.

Like I said, mind blowing stuff. They don’t make ships like this anymore.

[mistyyyy]

𝑷𝒂𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒌 𝒁𝒘𝒆𝒊𝒈 𝒙 𝑴!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓.

🍊Reader does have locks and of course, this is a black reader blog.🍊

Wc: 4142

🍑Patrick is in love with reader, reader is “straight” with a girlfriend, reader eating pussayyy, reader kissing booyyyssss for the first time, weed smoking, Patrick licking cock and ba- lemme chill LMAO, freaky ass girlfriend. 🍑

Every time he had looked at you he had to remind himself that this was okay and that he could live with this. It’ll go away. The way he felt about you that is.

He knows he’ll never get to hold your hand the way you hold your girlfriends, or hold you close against his chest, or even have you press your chest against his back, nah, not like the way you do with her. So instead he’ll be the supporting friend, the friend that’ll joke about one-night stands, playfully nudge you away, and sometimes make homoerotic jokes towards you, knowing you were thinking he was joking. He honestly should’ve just asked you before you had gotten into that relationship. Did you feel anything towards him?… not even after that time during high school when they went to that party and… never mind… and then they…yeah, never mind.

He should’ve asked you. Were you sure you were straight? Not even a little bi-curious towards him or any one of the same gender for that matter? He should’ve asked you if you felt anything towards him when you sat this close to him on your twin XL, laptop sitting on their lap and popcorn between his thighs. Because he felt something. He felt something every time you reached down to get the lightly buttered snack and put some between your lips, he felt something every time you laughed at a corny joke from the movie, he definitely felt something when you shifted and your legs grazed his and your shoulder did the same.

How could you not feel anything? All he did was feel everything.

The way you breathed, the way you shifted ever so slightly against the headboard, the way your body spray smelled a little tainted by something more feminine. Something more her.

“You okay?”

“Huh?”

He didn’t even realize he was staring at you for this long, his nail subconsciously rubbing against the boil sitting between his thighs as he watched you watch the movie. He blinks, his eyes dryer than usual before he looks back down at the laptop resting on their legs, on his right, on your left. “Yeah, I’m fine… just zoned out.” He clears his throat, clearing the gruff undertone.

“Hm…” you brushed it off, hand reaching over to your phone that rested on your mini fridge to check if your girlfriend had made it back to her dorm safely. She did, a small smile growing on your lips as you typed back your reply and hit send. Your girlfriend had done nothing but be nice to Patrick, yet right now all he felt was jealousy and envy as he watched your thumbs move efficiently across the screen. With a small sigh of contempt, you place your phone back onto the fridge and reach down to move the laptop. “I gotta piss, be right back.” You announced as you shifted to the ground. “Want me to pause it?” Patrick asked, knowing the answer was gonna be, “Nahh, I’ll catch up.”

He watched you slid on your Nike slides, and left out your room to go into the bathrooms.

His eyes zeroed into your phone, the device unlocked, waiting, tempting. He knows he shouldn’t do it, he knows he shouldn’t disrespect your privacy and snoop like an insecure girlfriend.

But he does it anyway.

Your phone was small in his palm, his fingers used to pro maxes, and he couldn’t help but think of all the times he’s offered to get you a new phone. “Dude. Why do you still have a button on your iPhone?” “What? Not everyone got old school money, Zweig.” “I’ll literally buy you a new phone and pay it off-“ “absolutely not.” “Dude.” That was how the recent conversation went.

He stared down at the phone, the messages of you and her still popped up on the screen. He glanced back up at the door, his throat bobbing as he nervously swallowed down his spit. This was stupid. But he didn’t stop. He didn’t want to hurt his own feelings…yet. So he left out of your girlfriend’s messages and opened your photos instead. It was regular boy shit, the same shit on his phone. Except for the pictures of you and her that is, on dates, hanging out, pictures that she had taken on his phone just because she could, sleeping pictures of her.

He almost wanted to delete them.

But there were things in there with them. Art was in some of them as well. He inhaled deeply and left the app to go to… oh is that Snapchat?

Tap.

A smile grew on his face as a picture of the two of you popped up in the memories. Summer of 2018, on their way to 9th grade. They were so young. Your hair not fully matured yet, little coils on top of your head, and braces in his mouth. He loved you even then.

He moves on to the note app, his thumb quickly hitting the search bar and typing in his name. Nothing pops up.

He doesn’t know if he should feel relieved or disappointed. If you were to type your name in his notes…well.

Okay, you were probably taking a crap by now, it was time to hurt his feelings, yet again. With a shaky sigh. He closes out Snapchat, the notes app, and the photo app, before hitting the message app. His thumb hesitates above her name, before pressing it. He could feel the guilt eating him away as he read up your text threads. So many I love yous, good mornings, beautifuls, and handsomes. It was starting to make him a little nauseous.

But then he sees a specific message, a message that has his heart pounding a little faster and his eyes nervously up to your door.

His finger hovered over the invisible ink effect, the devil on his shoulder telling him to swipe back and forth while the angel was telling him to put the phone fucking down AND SAVE HIMSELF THE HURT AND PAIN.

Okay, fuck it.

His thumb swipes back and forth on the screen, only to see… nothing. A black screen with a play button, a video.

“Holy shit…” He breathed out.

It was a video, and it was dark, at first. There was shuffling… and then there was breathing… and then moaning. And then he saw you, the flash was on, your eyes low. Your eyes and nose were the only thing he could see, the flash lighting up your pupils as you looked over the camera, and then into the lens before they fell shut.

“Oh fuck…” he repeated

“Oh fuck, baby…” she moans out, something warm filling Patrick’s belly as his mind finally caught up to the fact that.. he was watching you eat out your girlfriend. Her hand pushed down your head, your nose pressing into her clit before his mouth moved up to lick and suck on the sensitive nub. “Mm…” you moaned out as you made out with her cunt, and Patrick had to physically stop the video to control his breathing.

He blinked for a second, his sweatpants feeling tight, the inside of his boxers just a little sticky.

“I should’ve brought my phone, I was in there reading the febreeze can.” You settled down beside him once again, your phone back on the mini fridge and your pillow snug on his lap. “Well… you didn’t miss much.” He lied, he wasn’t really paying attention to the movie when you left.

“Cool, cool…” you trailed off, your back slouched against your headboard, your weight kinda leaning on him. He swallowed thickly, his hands tightening on the popcorn bucket. You shifted the laptop onto the pillow on his lap, and he couldn’t feel anything, but damn he wished he did, touch it, grab it, lick it- please do something! He felt like a dog in heat, why the fuck did he have to go through your shit!

You didn’t notice the way his hand twitched at his side, fingers flexing, the ghost of a temptation running through them as they just barely grazed your thigh. You didn’t notice the way he bit his lip, trying to will away the heat curling in his stomach.

And Patrick? Patrick realized, in that moment, he was in trouble.

Suddenly you yawned, your tongue coming out to lick your slightly dry lips, your body slouching against your mattress, and your legs spreading as you grew a little lazy. “You should stay the night. I don’t want you driving back to your hotel this late.”

“Yes sir…” The brunette mumbled sarcastically, his eyes scanning the way your body flexed underneath your clothes, your white beater hugging you tight, basketball shorts sliding down your thighs, your boxer briefs showing just slightly on your thighs. You breathed out an amused breath at his dry tone.

Patrick forced himself to focus on the movie, eyes locked on the screen but seeing absolutely nothing except your reflection through the screen. The warmth of your thigh resting on his, the subtle rise and fall of your breath—it was too much. His pulse pounded in his throat, his fingers drumming anxiously against the mattress.

Patrick let out a slow breath through his nose, tilting his head back against the wall and squeezing his eyes shut. He willed himself to think about something—anything—other than the video still burned into his mind. The way your voice had sounded, the way your tongue had moved… fuck he was so hard, he was throbbing… your hands, the way they looked squeezing her thighs, your goatee, dripping with her fluids.

Stop it. Stop thinking about it.

“Wanna get high?”

“Absolutely.”

The movie had been done and over with, Berleezy now playing in the background as the both of them laid on their backs, passing the jay back and forth. “You ever kissed a boy before?” Substance encouragement.

“What?- ack!-“ you choked out the smoke, the thick gas puffing from your throat as you tried to catch your breath as Patrick just cackled at you.

“You good?” Patrick teased, his grin barely visible in the dim light of the laptop screen. You sat up slightly, coughing out the last bit of smoke. “What kind of question is that?” Patrick shrugged, taking the jay from your fingers. “Just wondering.” He took a slow hit, eyes locked on yours as he exhaled. “You ever think about it?” You scoffed, shaking your head. “Bro, no.” But the way your voice wavered at the end—too quick, too defensive—made Patrick smirk.

“Nah?” He shifted closer, his shoulder brushing yours. “Not even once? Not even, like… curiosity?”

You swallowed, the heat from his body sinking into your skin. Patrick always had this way of pushing boundaries, but this felt different. More deliberate. You laughed, but it came out uneasy. “Why? You trying to get me to say something?” Patrick grinned, leaning in just a fraction more. “Maybe. Or maybe I just think you’d like it.” You exhaled through your nose, shaking your head. “You’re smoking dick.”

“And you’re avoiding the question,” Patrick shot back. He flicked the lighter absentmindedly, the small flame dancing between you before disappearing again. “If you’re so sure you wouldn’t like it, then prove it.”

You frowned. “What?”

“Kiss me.”

Your stomach flipped. It physically felt like you were about to spit it up. “Bro—”

Patrick just tilted his head, challenging. “One kiss. If it’s nothing, then it’s nothing. But if you can’t do it, maybe it’s because you don’t wanna know what it means.” The room felt smaller. Tighter. The laughter from the laptop felt distant like it belonged to a different world. You looked at him—really looked at him—the sharp line of his jaw, the way his lips parted just slightly like he was already expecting your answer.

Your mouth felt dry. “You’re really serious?”

Patrick nodded. “Yeah.”

Silence. Then, before you could talk yourself out of it, you leaned in. You never pulled away from a challenge, even as gay as this one. Your heart pounded as the space between you disappeared. It was slow—hesitant—like giving yourself time to back out. But Patrick didn’t move away. If anything, he leaned in too, his breath warm against your lips.

Then, it happened.

Soft. Just a press of lips, barely anything, but the second it did, something inside you flipped over, like the first drop on a rollercoaster. It should’ve been weird, should’ve been a joke—but it wasn’t. You pulled back too fast like you’d been burned. “Shit,” you muttered, running a hand through your locs. “Okay. There. Happy?” Patrick just stared at you, eyes darker now, unreadable. His tongue darted out, wetting his lips like he was still tasting you. “That’s all you got?”

You huffed out a nervous laugh, shaking your head. “Bro, shut up.” What the hell was he saying?

“I’m just saying,” he said, that teasing lilt still in his voice, but there was something else under it now—something heavier. “Felt like you were holding back.” You rolled your eyes. “Oh, so now you’re a kissing coach?” “Nah.” Patrick leaned back on his elbows, stretching out like this was nothing to him. “But I know when someone’s not being honest with themselves.” Get the damn hint. Was this considered manipulation?

That got you. Your jaw tightened, and you turned away, staring at the laptop. You tried to focus on whatever Berleezy was saying, but the words just blurred together.

Patrick nudged you. “Yo.”

You didn’t look at him. “What?”

“Did you hate it?”

You opened your mouth—ready to fire off something quick, something dismissive—but nothing came out. Patrick’s voice dropped, softer now. “You liked it, didn’t you?” You swallowed hard. Every instinct told you to deny it, to laugh it off, to push him away. But you couldn’t. Because the truth sat heavy in your chest, buzzing in your veins like the smoke still lingering in your lungs.

Finally, you exhaled. “Yeah,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. Patrick’s smile was slow, knowing. He sat up, reaching for the jay again. “Told you.”

You shook your head, a nervous chuckle slipping out. “You’re a dick head.”

Patrick just grinned. “Maybe.” He took a hit, then passed it to you, his fingers brushing yours a little too long. “But now what?” You hesitated, looking down at the burning ember before taking a slow drag. You let the smoke sit in your chest, let the weight of the moment settle. Then, exhaling, you turned back to him. “I don’t know,” you admitted. “But I think I wanna find out.”

Patrick's smirk softened, something warmer slipping into his eyes. He nodded once.

Then, without hesitation, he leaned in again.

This time, there was no teasing, no hesitation. His lips met yours with more confidence, testing, pressing-like he was trying to figure out just how much of this you could handle. And, to his surprise, you didn't pull away.

You kissed him back.

It was awkward at first, both of you adjusting, hands twitching with uncertainty. Patrick's breath was warm, his lips softer than you expected, and for a moment, neither of you knew what to do with your hands. But then, instinct kicked in. Patrick's fingers skimmed the side of your jaw, tilting your face just slightly as he deepened the kiss, slow and unhurried. You responded naturally, melting into it, letting yourself feel the heat, the weight, the quiet thrill of something you shouldn't be doing but didn't want to stop.

And just when the awkwardness faded, when it started to feel good-really good— Patrick suddenly pulled back like he'd been electrocuted.

His eyes were wide, lips still wet, chest rising and falling. Then, like a switch flipped in his brain, panic settled into his face.

"Wait. Shit." He swallowed hard, staring at you like he'd just remembered something terrible. "You have a girlfriend."

You blinked, still dazed, lips buzzing. You saw the way Patrick's entire body tensed, the way his breathing grew uneven like he was really processing what just happened.

But you? You just shrugged. "She doesn't care."

Patrick's face scrunched in confusion. “What—what do you mean she doesn't care?”

You exhaled, not wanting to talk about it, not wanting to ruin this-whatever this was.

So, instead of answering, you reached forward, gripping the collar of Patrick's hoodie and pulling him back in. You reached behind you, the joint getting snubbed out against the mini fridge, and you locked in.

And this time, when you kissed him, it wasn't hesitant or awkward. It was intentional. Patrick let out a muffled sound of surprise but didn't resist. He let you take control, let you push your lips against his with more pressure, more urgency. His fingers curled around your wrist like he wanted to stop you-but he didn't.

Instead, he gave in.

A soft sigh left his lips as his body relaxed, his hands sliding down your arms, gripping you back. Whatever confusion, whatever conflict he had-it disappeared in the heat of your mouth, the way your tongue brushed against his, the way your fingers dug into his hoodie like you didn't want to let go.

And for now, he let himself forget.

He couldn’t get enough of you, and he was beginning to get greedy. He didn’t want to push your boundaries, he didn’t want you to run away from him, but he couldn’t help it, the throbbing pain in his sweatpants just wanting some kind of relief. So he rubs his hips on the side of your thigh, a surprised grunt leaving the both of your mouths as you feel each other's excitement.

The both of you broke the kiss, your breaths heavy, lips wet, and hearts faster than your minds right now. The both of you didn’t say anything, your eyes doing all of the talking.

I don’t think we should do this.

Why not, you said it was okay.

Can I touch you?

I don’t know.

Please?

You swallowed thickly, before nodding, and Patrick didn’t waste any more time, sitting up on his knees and making his way between your thighs. You watched him with low eyes as his fingers slipped under your shorts, your hands nervously gripping the sheets as his thumb teased your half-hardened length over the shorts. “Patrick, man…” You breathed out, head falling back to the pillow, as your hips twitched upwards. This didn’t go past the brunette, his lips turning up into a smirk as he started pulling down your shorts with your boxers, his grey eyes trailing down your treasure trail, and your buzzed pubic hair.

He honestly couldn’t believe this was happening right now, years of just imagining what you looked like naked, nights of him stroking his dick to the thought of you and him, or to just you.

Finally, he gets to see you.

“Wait…pat…” You didn’t quite understand why you were saying wait, your hand already sliding into his black curls as his tongue licked up the length of your cock, lips sucking onto your frenulum before taking your leaking cock into his mouth, the taste of your pre-cum finally being on his tongue after years of wanting you caused him to groan into you, your thighs tensing from that delicious vibration. “Oh shit…oh shit” you groaned a little louder as his mouth slid down your length, his mouth hot and wet. He couldn’t take it all, but he sure as hell tried, like he was trying to prove that he was better than her, that he could get you off better. He could feel you grow inside his mouth, your cock fully hardened and hitting the back of his throat.

You could tell he was struggling, his throat tightening as he tried to hold in his gags. “Slow, slow… yeah, just like that…mmm…” If he wants to please you, then you’ll just enjoy it, and coach him how to do it right. Fuck. Patrick groaned around you from your breathy encouragement, his glassy eyes looking up at you, but your head was tilted back, rested back against the pillow while your hand was firmly gripping at the strands in his head.

He couldn’t stop himself anymore, his cock in his boxers starting to hurt from the neglect. So he began grinding his hips against the bed, the rough sticky material rubbing against his length deliciously. You couldn’t even keep your eyes open, your mind fuzzy but your senses in ten. Your teeth clenched tightly as his mouth messily licked and sucked on your balls, your stomach caving in and a low whimper leaving your throat as his hand stroked you slowly, taking his time. He didn’t want it to end, he wanted to keep you just like this, all to him. “Mng…gonna fucking cum, oh fuuck, ‘m gonna cum,” you finally looked down at him as you announced your release, that familiar tight feeling twitching at your nuts, his anticipation soaring from the thought of tasting you, in having you in a way that wasn’t platonic.

“Yes, please…” his voice was raspy, drool down his mouth as he lazily suckled on your tip, hot tongue almost suctioning to the underside of your head, almost as if he was sucking on a straw. It felt like he was sucking the life out of you, your toes curling and brows pushing together as you watched your best friend bring you there, bringing you to that edge. “Pat, Patrick-“ you tried to warn him, the hand that was in his curls tugging to try to pull him away.

You were about to cum, you were about to cum in Patrick’s mouth, your best friend since- forever. He didn’t detach from you, his hips rolling even harder into the bed. He almost disassociates, cum the only thing on his mind right now. You didn’t bother wasting your breath in warning him again, one hand tightening in his hair as you pushed his mouth down on you, and the other one tightening on the sheets. With a guttural groan, your eyes fluttering and your hips raised, he almost gagged when your hips twitched upwards, your cum squirting- hot and fast into the back of his throat.

He was right there behind you, a whimper, almost something feminine like a whine leaving his throat as he swallowed your load, his cock twitching and his hips stuttering as he spoiled his underwear, ruining the inside with his slick. “Fuck…” he breathed out, your hand in his hair pulling away as you laid slack against the mattress. You needed a few seconds of nonverbal time.

The two of you lay in a tense yet comfortable silence. The two of you couldn’t believe that just happened, yet you weren’t uncomfortable, the high easing your anxiety yet your body tensed with want. You wanted it again.

You looked over to him, his back now resting against the bed and your shoulders pressed against each other. Then you reached for his hand, your pinky nervously grazing his knuckles before he got the hint and just linked your fingers together. “Um…” you mumbled, eyes moving upwards to stare at the popcorn ceilings. “Yeah?…” he whispered, his gaze not meeting yours, also staring at the ceiling. “I don’t want to seem gay or whatever…” you said, a hint of a smile in your voice as you joked, and Patrick grinned with a huff of laughter. “ but I kinda wanna do that again….”

Patrick’s grin lingered, but there was something else behind it now—something softer. He squeezed your hand, his thumb brushing absentmindedly over your skin.

“Yeah?” he murmured.

You swallowed, your heartbeat picking up even though neither of you was looking at each other. “Yeah.”

Silence stretched between you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the kind of quiet that settled in when something unspoken was hanging in the air, waiting to be acknowledged.

Then, Patrick exhaled, shifting slightly so his knee knocked against yours. “Well,” he started, voice low, teasing, but careful. “What’s stopping you?”

You finally turned your head to look at him, and he was staring at you now, his expression unreadable.

And suddenly, everything felt different.

Like something between you had shifted for good.

You hesitated, then squeezed his hand back, grounding yourself. “Nothing, I guess.”

Patrick hummed. “Then…” He tilted his head, his smirk returning. “C’mon.”

“Can you record me this time? Kayla likes stuff like this…”

[lemonsnapples]

On how porn is written in SVSSS - I feel like I need to share my experience reading Japanese porn fanfiction around the 2010s (yes I'm an old fan girl). I was into both hetero and homoerotic ships back then, so what I'm about to say applies to both MM and MF ships.

I don't know if what I saw in Japanese fanfiction is popular in Chinese literature. I don't know if what I read back then still applies today. But I feel like I need to share my experience, since some people are freaking about about the Bingqiu porn in SVSSS.

The Japanese porno fanfiction that really revealed to me what the popular dynamic was, ironically, a fic trope where the bottom, man or woman, had to show that they enjoyed the sex.

When I first read such a fic - where the top was like "well if you tell me to stop I'll stop *smirk*" and the bottom was all flustered, frustrated that they had to act like a damn whore going "oh yeah! More!!" to get some sweet action - I was shocked. I grew up in Japan in the 90s as an elementary school kid, but then I moved to the US and only had exposure to English porno ever since. In English, if the couple is doing it correctly, then there's no pain, only pleasure, and the bottom, whether man or woman, encourages the top to keep going.

That dynamic was not popular in the Japanese fanfiction that I read way back when. They were mostly written by women, too. Obviously not all women felt that way, but it seemed that a good chunk of Japanese women never wanted to be like "oh yeah! So good! Give me more!" in bed, because they think it's too slutty for them - in fact, the bottoms who go "oh yeah! So good! Give me more!" are called bitch bottoms (ビッチ受け). Some people find it kinky and hot, other people are turned off by it.

In fact, in a good chunk of the Japanese fanfiction I've read, the bottom almost always said "no" or "stop" without expecting the partner to actually stop. That was a huge cultural shock for me, since my sex ed was more or less "No means no!" But that's not the norm across the whole world.

Repeat after me: "No means no!" is not the norm everywhere.

In some fics I read, the sex could be amazing and not hurt at all while the bottom goes "dame!" and "yamete!" through it all but admit every once in a while that it felt good ("kimochii"), but in other fics the sex could be unpleasant and even hurtful. But the bottom and the readers don't characterize the sex as rape, because the bottom is doing it with the person that they love, and they want the partner to feel good.

So I had that context before I read SVSSS. That's why the wedding extra Bingqiu sex didn't bother me that much - not my cup of tea in terms of erotica, but it was the kind of sex I've read in Japanese fanfiction before. SVSSS is Chinese erotica written by a Chinese woman, so I figured that the norm regarding sex was maybe similar.

So to people who are saying that the Bingqiu wedding extra sex should be characterized as rape - all I can say is, I can understand if it's not your cup of tea, but not all women across the globe would characterize that kind of sex as rape. I didn't know how different cultures enjoyed porn without venturing outside of English porn, either, so I understand the ignorance - but it's inappropriate to characterize the wedding extra Bingqiu sex as rape.

[livesworthlivingau]

Behind the Vale Chapter 18

ISAT/Two Hats Spoilers as always! CW: Homoerotic fight scene What? Who said that?

"Hmmmm…" [You ponder deeply, looking over the collection of daggers on display at the town's blacksmith.]

"What's up? None speaking to you?" [Nille chimes in, noticing the look on your face. Does having a mouth again really make us that easy to read?]

"No, they aren't… I'm not sure a dagger feels right anymore."

"Oh? Well what else would you get? I can't exactly see your scrawny butt using a big hammer." [She teased with a smirk. You rolled your eyes some.]

"Riiight, and who destroyed that sadness standing over you when we first met~?"

"I had that under control! I was just making it think it had me!" [You both laugh, even she couldn't pretend that was true.]

"But to answer your question, I'm not quite sure, something agile still but…"

"How about a rapier?"

"NO! No no no! The Housemaiden uses one of those."

"… And?"

"… Just… I'd rather not… Have that constant reminder." [She rolls her eyes but drops it. It seemed the only thing preventing another talk was the fact you were in public.]

"Okay, uhhh... Oh! What about one of those?" [She asked, spotting a rack with several whips hanging off of them.]

"Oh… Oh yes, that actually sounds nice~." [You say as you walk over to it, glancing about at them all hanging, finding a lovely looking one with lightless and darkless diamond patterning across its whole length.]

"I think this will do perfectly~."

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

[The sound of 3 booming CRACKs sound out in a row as you try to snap your new whip across the practice targets setup. You manage to split the first in half, but your swings go wide on the follow ups, missing the other two.]

"Hey! Not bad! You're a natural at this!"

"Not bad?! I only hit one blinding target!"

"... Vale, have you ever used a whip before?"

"Not that I can recall, no."

"Uh huh, and you just expected to be great at it first thing?"

"I mean, I used paper craft pretty well first thing~."

"Well yeah, that was instincts. If you're a paper type now, that's gonna come a lot more naturally. Stress of combat and all, you don't think you just act."

"Hmmm... You make a good point... Maybe there's some more sadness nearby we could try and track down?"

"You wanna go hunting sadness' now?!"

"Well how else am I going to get better at this?" [Nille smacks her own face gently in a facepalm before sighing out.]

"Alright, alright, if you're set on this..." [She begins, placing a hand on your shoulder.]

"Now think fast!" [She shouts before using her other arm to scoop under your leg, suddenly lifting you over her head and tossing you over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes.]

"WH-HEY?!" [You cry out, tumbling across the grass and sliding to a stop. You look up at Nille, her hammer now out, playful grin on her face.]

"If you're so set on a fight, I'll give you one pretty Vay~!"

"N-Nille?! Y-You can't just toss me like that!!"

"Actually I can, pretty easily in fact!" [She beams with a bright laugh, your face burns in a fluster as you grumble, readying your new whip, holding your other hand in a paper sign.]

"F-Fine! But you asked for it!"

"Don't hold back for me now Vale, I won't for you!" [She remarked with a wink, then suddenly rushing towards you.]

[You step back in surprise, not expecting her to actually approach with such intent. She raises her hammer, preparing to swing. You finally snap out of it and bring your hand forward, summoning a shield like before. Nille's hammer swings right through it, dampening the blow but still sending it slamming into your side, knocking you over and tumbling a bit again.]

"Ack! H-Hey!!"

"Oh come on, you're paper type now, you barely felt that!"

"Y-Yes but STILL!!" [You shout, more so protesting about getting tossed around than anything else. She pays no mind to your pleas as she begins to rush at you again. You wonder how she's so blinding fast with that massive hammer.]

"Gonna have to go on the offensive soon~!" [She taunts at you. Alright, we can figure this out, there's got to be some way we can slow her down somehow... Wait, didn't Odile have a craft like that? Yes! We've seen it countless times! You take a breath for a moment, trying to replicate the ritual she performed when using it, sending a lethargic wave towards Nille to help weigh her down some.]

"Oooh, got some other tricks up your sleeve?" [She calls in surprise, though it doesn't seem to affect her as much as Odile's ability did. It would have to do for now, taking a defensive stance and flourishing your new whip. She swings high as you duck below, swapping her momentum to slam down before you barely manage to jump back out of the way.]

"C'mon! Go on the offensive Valey!" [She encourages, you snap your whip forward, coiling it around the neck of her hammer. With a heavy tug and pulling paper gesture, you manage to yank it free from her grip, tossing it upwards and spinning off behind you as you watch it fly overhead.]

"Hah! What are you gonna do no-ACK!!" [You begin to tease, turning back to Nille who was suddenly moments away, tackling into you and sending you both sliding across the ground, skidding to a stop. You stare up at her in stunned silence. She chuckles some, seeing your face.]

"HAHA! Here's a tip, Vay. Never let your guard down." [She teased... then perked up some, noticing your face with her own darkening, quickly getting up off of you... Our face feels hot. Are we blushing?...]

"Heh, uhh... Sorry about that, got a little carried away there." [She mumbled some, holding out a hand to help you up, taking it and easily getting lifted off the ground.]

"But good hustle! Seems like you got a few new moves to work with!" [Her face is still dark, she's trying to change the subject, you recognize this tactic... Why is our face burning?! You try to shake the sensation away.]

"R-Right~! Guess we won't have to worry much next time a sadness comes around~!" [You remark, desperately trying to slip the mask back on. You both stand in awkward silence for a moment.]

"... W-We should probably get back to the Inn."

"O-Oh yes! I'll uhh... meet you there, I wanted to stop by the local tailor first~."

"Oooof course you do."

Get ready for some new official outfit designs next Vale chapter~

[whatwouldsylwrite]

At least I got you in my head (3)

(2.5)

Summary: Abby is straight. And then you move in with her.

Tags: modern au, fem!reader, straight!abby (she is doing some comphet bullshit), pining, idiot in love and it's abby, reader is gay and tired.

Notes: gay yearning, homoerotic friendship, injuries, jokes about reader being weak but it's a comparison of average human/mma fighter. Abby is stupid, and they're both so delusional with "we're just friends" I feel like I need to write parallel povs with them so you'd see what the other actually felt.

Taglist: @abbyily @lillysbigwilly @gravygranules @blairfox04 @frogtits1 @ccinnamongrl (if you want me to tag you for the whole series dm me please)

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

October rolled around and you felt like both of you finally got completely comfortable with each other. You spent a lot of time together when you both were at home and you made plans for weekends and free evenings, so your friendship was flourishing. Your stupid, unnecessary, nonsensical crush was flourishing too. You were pressing all your feelings down as best as you could, but when Abby laughed at your jokes your heart swelled with affection and even if you scolded yourself it didn’t work. 

You needed a better way of getting over Abby. (some would say you needed to concentrate on Abby’s flaws - stubborn, leaves cups everywhere, has a hard time admitting she is wrong - but you’ve been down this road before, and it didn’t work, fuck you Jessica).

Sometimes you’d feel like you had a chance - when Abby hugged you tight or blushed when you flirted with her or when she affectionately called you a shrimp because you were hunching over in your chair while you were doing your homework. You’d have to snap yourself out of your delusions because you couldn’t afford getting your hopes up, and the constant reminders in your head actually worked. If you couldn’t get over Abby at least you could contain it at the level you weren’t hurting. You’d take that.  

You turned your key in the lock and opened the door to your apartment just to be surprised when you saw the lights on: usually when you came home Abby wasn't there yet. You felt somewhere between worried and curious why Abby was home early. 

You took your coat and shoes off and went to find Abby to check on her; you saw the light in the bathroom and the door was open, so you approached carefully in case she was naked. 

"Abby?"

"Oh! Hi." Abby said and something clank on the sink. 

"Can I come in?" 

“Yeah.”

You walked into the doorway and gasped when you saw Abby’s face. You came closer immediately, looking at her face with worry. She had a bruise on her cheekbone, her lower lip was swollen with a small cut in the corner of her mouth. 

“What the fuck, Abby?" You asked, for some reason trembling from worry. "What happened? Fuck, do you need to see a doctor?"

You held Abby by her neck, looking over her face, terrified and hurt from seeing Abby hurt. Who would do this? What kind of sick, violent asshole would attack Abby in the middle of the day? What did she even do to provoke such a response?

But Abby smiled, hissing from pain, and stroked your forearms.

"Hey." Abby said gently, soothing you. "Everything's fine. Wasn't paying attention during practice, caught some of the punches."

"Fuck, I forgot." You sighed, relieved. Abby was fighting for fucking fun, of course. "I thought someone attacked you."

Abby laughed and kissed your forehead to soothe you, her lips soft on your skin. You felt your chest flutter, but the relief you felt was bigger - Abby was okay, she was safe and these injuries didn't come from someone's violence. 

"Are you cleaning them?" You nodded at her bruises.

"Yeah."

"I'll help you." You said firmly and made Abby sit on the edge of the bath, looking up to you, amused. "Don't look at me like that, I can't cope with people being hurt."

"You're too sensitive for your own good." Abby said kindly. 

"I care about you." You said quietly as you wiped the blood from the corner of her lip, and Abby stared at you. You heard her breath hitch - she was shocked. "What, you thought I didn't?"

"No-no. I know you care about me." Abby mumbled and looked somewhere over your shoulder, avoiding eye contact. You could understand that, being so close to someone would make some people feel awkward. "You're so gentle." She scoffed as if it offended her, because Abby was all about I can take it so don't go soft on me. 

"Exactly why I said I'd do this. You, idiot, like to tough it up and suffer." You narrowed your eyes playfully and slapped your hand on the sink. "Not on my watch."

"How many vine compilations have you watched, grandma?"

"Takes one to know one." You scoffed and looked over her cut. You turned around and looked for disinfectant in the cabinet; then you took a piece of cotton and held it under Abby's chin so you could rinse the cut without applying any pressure. This disinfectant didn't hurt, so you were pretty calm about rinsing with it. "Okay. Do you have any healing ointments or whatever you use when you get hurt?"

"Yeah. Over there. It's for the bruise."

You nodded and gently applied the cream on Abby's cheekbone, your fingertips like feathers on her skin. Now Abby stared at you without hiding, looking at your face as if it was some kind of puzzle. She probably didn't even register that, so you didn't bring it up to her attention, not wanting to embarrass her.  

"Okay. I'm done." 

"Thanks." Abby said quietly and you smiled at her. 

"Be careful next time. I thought you have gloves for a reason. How did you even get your lip cut?"

"I don't know, It just happened. The punch wasn't even that strong." Abby rolled her eyes and some part of you wanted to laugh because she was cute, but the other part reminded you that Abby was big and strong and actually fucking dangerous. 

Yeah, she was cute when she scrunched her nose, but it was the way a lioness was cute. Little kitty from afar, but even the thought of it noticing you would make you hold your breath in fear. A lioness wasn't a kitty. A lioness was a killing machine that would overpower you and kill you in five minutes. This hit you in a way you wanted to press your thighs together - Abby was so much stronger than you just based on the fact she was a martial artist, and it made you feel things. 

Things you needed to press the fuck down and make yourself forget them. 

"Are you hungry?" Abby asked suddenly and you looked at her, surprised.

"Yes."

"I'll cook tonight." 

You raised your brows, surprised. 

"You know how?"

"Fuck you." Abby laughed and gently shoved you out of the bathroom and towards the kitchen. "Just because you're my housewife it doesn't mean I can't cook."

You sat on the chair and watched Abby cook with a mock worry, teasing her that she'd poison you, but Abby didn't mind. You actually knew Abby was a good cook, judging by how well organised her kitchen was when you moved in, but you couldn't miss a chance to tease her. 

"Behave, (y/n). Or I won't feed you." Abby said sternly, but this little command caused a knee-jerk reaction, pressing your buttons in a delicious way. You took a small breath to calm down the sudden haze from her words and came back to reality. "Threatening works, huh?"

Threatening, yeah, of course. Threatening.

"I have a fight on Friday. Do you want to come?" Abby asked as she stirred the vegetables in the pan. "At five."

"Yeah, I do. I'm afraid I'll have a heart attack if I see you hurt, but anything to support you, babygirl." You winked and Abby laughed.

"There is going to be a party after the fight too."

"Cool."

You weren't sure if alcohol plus Abby's company was a good idea, especially since you'd get more sad that you wanted her, but couldn't have her. And drunk cuddles would definitely hit differently and in not a good way, because now you felt something. So right now - though you didn't admit it yet - you weren't planning on going to that party. That September outing was enough for you to understand you needed to protect your heart. 

You snapped out of your thoughts when Abby stopped and rolled her arm, hissing. You frowned in worry, and when she looked at you, she explained.

"My shoulder."

"Did you get hit there too?" You raised your brows.

"No, just sore. I tried to massage it, but I couldn't reach it." 

"I can massage it for you later, if you want." You said before you could even process the implications of your words. You said that on pure instinct "people say I'm good at massages and Abby needs help", but if she'd agree it'd mean you'd touch her. 

Like. Naked back and everything. Shit. 

"Oh, you're so fucking nice, (y/n)." Abby cooed and you huffed. "Thank you."

"Feed me first." You said just as sternly as Abby said before, and she chuckled. 

"Or what, your weak little arms won't have any energy?" 

"The fuck." You asked, dramatically offended. "My arms are strong. No, don't even look at me like that, Anderson, I'm not arm wrestling you."

"Because you're weak as a noodle?"

That was definitely the payback for saying she'd poison you with her cooking. 

"You just want to feel that you're stronger than me, don't you?" 

"Come on, it will be fun." Abby said, now very into the idea of arm wrestling you. She wiped her hands and sat opposite of you, her eyes twinkling with mischief. 

"Yeah, for you." You rolled your eyes but put your elbow on the table. "Why do I even put up with your shit?"

"Because you love me, obviously." Abby rolled her eyes in return and your heart sank down in pain and came back in a matter of milliseconds. 

"I'm just nice." 

Abby wrapped her fingers around yours, delighted how your untrained hand was smaller than hers. Your hand was hot and dry, and your hold on her was strong - well, as strong as it could be for someone who occasionally went to gym. Your nails were short and neatly filed, you didn't wear nail polish. Abby suddenly remembered how Ellie explained to her why her nails were short with a shit-eating grin (for fucking, Abigail, for fucking) and even though it was funny then (yeah and nail polish is too gay, right?), it wasn't funny now, with you. 

Why the fuck she was so bothered you had a sex life? She wasn't in any position to police your life and especially your private life. She really needed to be a better person. 

"Ready?"

"If you break my hand you're paying for it."

"Ah, don't worry, my dad is a surgeon." 

Abby counted down from three and let you show your strength first to not demotivate you, but even like this she showed you you had no chance against her, because while you flexed all possible muscles in your arm, she was almost relaxed. 

"Yeah, you're a weak noodle." Abby said, smirking. 

"You're a noodle." You puffed as you tried your best to move Abby's hand, but Abby didn't bulge. "Come on, give up a little."

Abby laughed, but let you move her hand halfway down, and you looked ridiculously happy, even though you knew you were cheating. Abby thought about letting you win because you looked so pleased, but she wanted to destroy you way more. So when you almost got her hand all the way down, panting and puffing, Abby flexed her muscles and slammed your hand to the other side. She was gentle and didn't hit your hand on the table, relaxing her grip just the second before pressing your hand down fully. 

"Weak. Noodle." She said and you looked so angry she started laughing: it wasn't real anger, it was the playful one, and you honestly looked cute. "It's so fun to rile you up."

"First you humiliate me, then you poison me. I'm moving out." You said dramatically and Abby laughed again. 

"Well then how are you going to get Ellie to date you, hm?"

"Oh my god, Abby." You rolled your eyes again. "Gimme my food so my weak noodles could get some energy to knead your back."

Abby was absolutely delighted with how grumpy you were. It was the same when you played Mortal Kombat - riling you up was the biggest joy she had (after cuddling with you). You were so chill all the time, calm and confident like nothing could throw you off balance, and Abby liked seeing you crumble with childish anger, because it filled her with childish joy. 

You had your dinner and Abby rolled her eyes and called you a grandma when you mumbled something about poison again, but she saw how much you liked the food she made. Abby even started to reconsider if she actually hated cooking or she just needed to have someone to feed. Abby felt all warm when you said your thanks with a shy smile - something she never saw on your face before. Her stomach fluttered as she stared at you, searing your face into her heart. You were just adorable.

You washed the dishes and then asked Abby to lie down to fix her sore shoulder. You almost choked when she just took her shirt off and lied down on the bed, without any fucking warning. You felt your face heat up as you traced her muscles and her waist with your eyes, absorbing the sight in front of you. You could see how muscles moved under her skin as she adjusted her position on the bed, tucking her arms under the pillow, her shoulders showing these delicious curves around her biceps and triceps and whatever the fuck human arm was made of. The bruise on her cheek was getting purple and you felt your heart ache, sorry for someone as sweet as Abby to have this. 

"I'm not a professional, so I don't think I can fix the problem, but at least you'll relax. Are you okay if I sit on top of you?"

"Of course. Your back would get tired way too fast if you stay at my side, so take a seat."

"So forward, Abby." You chuckled and swung your leg over her ass so you could sit. You tried not to think how your legs stretched over her soft butt, how it would feel if you were flipped over and she was pressing you int- Stupid horny monkey brain. “Do you have a lotion somewhere?”

“Will hand cream work?”

“Yeah.”

Abby reached out for her drawer and handed you the hand cream while you respectfully didn’t look at her tits while she moved up, her naked chest showing from her sides. You squeezed the hand cream on Abby’s back, laughing at her surprised twitch, and got to work. You massaged the top of her shoulders and her neck first, listening to her soft pleased hums as you worked the tension out of her muscles. Then you moved to her shoulder blades and pressed your knuckles just under the right shoulder blade where you knew the sore muscle was. Abby let out a moan as you dragged your knuckles over the muscle and you opened your eyes wide, surprised. Fuck, Abby sounded delicious. 

“Fuck, right there.” Abby grunted and you repeated your movements, your ears tuned to her. Stupid, stupid horny monkey brain. “It feels so good.”

No. You refused to let her words get into your head. It wasn’t meant for you. It wasn't even sexual, what the fuck was wrong with you? 

"That's what she said." You murmured and Abby chuckled. 

"You have magic hands, fuck, do that again."

"You sure you're not my ex?" You teased. Abby didn't respond to that and you just continued massaging her back. 

After half an hour of you kneading Abby's back she was a putty and your hands were tired. You sat down next to her on the bed and watched her blissed out face. 

"Better?"

"I feel like I don't have bones anymore." Abby murmured into her pillow and you laughed quietly. "Thank you."

"You see where cooking dinner gets you." You poked her naked side, but Abby was too relaxed to twitch. "If you need my magic hands, just ask. I'm happy to help."

"You're too nice." 

"Why are you saying it like it's a bad thing?" 

"Just afraid someone would exploit you. Like, some idiot girl who won't appreciate you or something."

"Don't worry. I don't stay with people who don't care about me."

"I care about you, so stay with me." 

Your heart skipped a beat as you stared at Abby: she always said this kind of shit that gave you hope. That maybe Abby was just in the closet. That maybe she felt something too. That maybe you just needed to make a move, be the brave one, and then you'd get to have her. Your intuition was constantly whispering to you that Abby wasn't straight, but you refused to listen, because a) it was wishful thinking and b) even if she wasn't, it was for her to figure out and no one deserved to be forced out of the closet. 

"Well I don't want to be homeless, so I am staying with you." You stroked her back affectionately. "You need to shower."

Abby groaned and you laughed, before leaving her room. You needed to breathe.

Abby sighed quietly, still basking in your touch. She might've joked you were weak, but in reality your hands were strong. And so soft. God, you were so soft it opened some unknown need in her. She was longing for your touch in a way it scared her. Sure, Abby was affectionate and enjoyed hugs and cuddles and sleepovers when she got to hold someone - with boys they always held her, but with girls she could be the one holding and protecting. But with you she felt like an addict, craving your touch and closure with actual fucking pain in her chest, the constant pull to be closer in any way possible. Abby never felt like that about anyone, and she didn't understand what it meant. Was she so touch-starved she was looking to get her needs filled by using the closest person she had? That was very selfish and Abby didn't like what kind of person she was becoming. She felt sick at the thought she was using you, the kindest person she knew, to escape her loneliness. 

Abby sat up on the bed and looked at herself in the mirror, not really liking what she saw there. It felt like any issues she had inside were now outside, an inevitable evidence of her deteriorating morals. Fuck, she was turning into an idiot girl who couldn't appreciate you. 

Abby touched her shoulder where your soft fingers were a few minutes ago. Why just your company and your jokes weren't enough? Why did she want more? She couldn't understand at all, she was missing something. (Yeah, probably her morals). But it scared her to such a degree she didn't even want to go there.

The knock on the door snapped her out of her thoughts. You didn't come inside, staying behind the door to give her privacy.

"Do you want to have some tea with me?" 

"Yeah."

And everything was back to normal.

[skitskatdacat63]

I watched it w my friend and the whole time I kept saying to her that it really reminded me of The Talented Mr Ripley, but done way worse than the latter. So I'm making her watch that now dhfkkgg, and we're halfway thru and she's like, they're literally the same???? I almost wanna write an analysis abt how similar they are, bcs its honestly crazy to me how many plot points they share, how similar the dynamic is, but how much better Mr Ripley does it. I think people who give Saltburn such a high rating need to try watching Mr Ripley 😭

I didnt think Saltburn was bad btw, I just think it did so much that Mr Ripley had already accomplished wayyyyy better. And I felt like there were a lot of crazy things in Saltburn that were put in there just to be shocking. There's stuff in Mr Ripley(like the bath scene) that shocked me and made me go !?!?!? bcs it *was* shocking, but not gross or cringey. Like there's a lot of second hand embarrassment in both, but the things in Saltburn made me unable to even look at the screen and the things in Mr Ripley made me upset for the mc :(

Well anyways. Watch The Talented Mr. Ripley :)

God Saltburn reminds me so much of The Talented Mr Ripley, the dynamic is soooooo similar

[helsex]

ik ur going through all ex appearences & u have great correct ex opinions so. do you like the whole s8 thing or???

Hmm ok. Well there's like a lot to be said and I'm definitely very mixed on the s8 storyline

On one hand we got unprecedented levels of Evil Xisuma content, we got whole animations! It gave us so much to work with. And I mean as the #1 exhels guy I can't go without mentioning the fact it gave us the Hels Kitchen clip.

Buttt. On the other hand, Xisuma has said he set out with that season to tell a cautionary tale of sorts about cryptocurrency. And so it feels like what we really got was Evil X being used as just a stand in tool for a morality fable. In a way. And in that Ex went from this very cartoonish villain to someone genuinely mean and threatening (I'm thinking specifically of how in the animations we see Xisuma flinch from them. He's legit scared of them) and well...that's jarring.

But the fact is in the past they appeared so infrequently we could really make whatever we wanted of their character on a deeper level, so I can see why a lot of people myself included would be biased against the s8 story for characterizing Ex in a deeper way that perhaps did not go nicely with our pre-existing ideas of them. I think I've said in the past they felt ooc but can they really be ooc when there wasn't a lot of character there to begin with? (I still say yes but I'm biased as we've been over) Maybe this was how X always intended them to be.

Overall...yeah I guess I like season 8. It definitely gave me more to build off of and delve into. They're a miserable little shit. They don't have a bed frame. They're addicted to energy drinks. They have regular homoerotic meetings with an evil knight clone at a dive bar in hell. Awesome stuff.

And of course it's easy to use Jeff to write off some of their behavior within the story if that's what you want to do (and believe me I do).

(also very flattered you consider my Ex opinions to be great)

[evilwriter37]

62 for dagcup >:3

“It’s only one night, we’ll just share the bed.”

“Sh-share it?” Hiccup stammered, looking back and forth between the bed and the man who had suggested it. Heat flushed his cheeks.

Dagur crossed his arms over his chest, smiling at him almost knowingly. “What? Too homoerotic or something?”

Hiccup nearly choked. Dagur knew then. He knew he was, well, interested in him.

“No, no! Not that! It’s just, uh… The floor looks nice.” Hiccup slapped a hand over his face for how horrible that sounded. No, the floor did not look nice.

Dagur laughed, and it wasn’t that maniacal laugh of his, but a genuine one. He stepped closer. “Hiccup, it’s okay. I know you like me.”

Hiccup felt his heart fluttering in his throat. He peeked out at Dagur from behind his fingers. “You do?”

“Yeah. And, I mean, I can take the floor if—”

“No one takes the floor,” Hiccup stubbornly decided, pulling his hand from his face. He tried taking a deep breath. “You’re right. It’s just one night.”

Dagur smirked at him, and it just served to make Hiccup’s cheeks burn hotter.

“A lot can happen in one night,” he said.

[glorismorningstar]

THE LION CHRONICLES

Pairings: fatherfigure!Alastor x f!reader, Charlie x bodyguard!reader, Vaggie x reader, situationship!Carmilla Carmine x reader

Summary: The group is hesitant when a certain serpent-like threat returns to the Hotel for the third time to ask for redemption. Y/N begins to accept that Carmilla is the one she's with and grows more comfortable in the relationship.

Warnings: WLW, mentions of sex, aftercare, nostalgia, canon-typical violence, Alastor being Alastor, betrayal

A/N: damn this part sucks so bad in comparison to the others, but I have to keep it going, and the next few parts are gonna get so much saucier >:))

| PART 1 // PART 2 // PART 3 |

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

“What was up with you last night, corazòn?” Carmilla purred from beside me, soft lips skimming over my shoulder with appreciative pecks. “You didn't want to come over, I got a little worried.”

“It's no big deal, I just had a lot on my mind.” I sighed softly, carding my fingers through her white and black strands of hair. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked.

“Not really,” I replied, guilty about keeping her in the dark. As much as our relationship was casual and mainly carnal, I did care about Carmilla, and I wanted to tell her everything about my sisters, my status and Lute, but I always ended up deciding against it. Alastor said it was better for my safety to keep it a secret. “Now's not the time to think about it. Tell me about your day.”

“Ugh, Vox canceled on me today again.” She groaned in frustration, which drew an eye roll from me. Nepotism ran rampant among the Overlords, that was how I'd met Carmilla and all the other Overlords. Months before Alastor's sabbatical, he had asked me to attend meetings with him enough times to get me used to going there. Gradually, he began to skip meetings more often, which resulted in me filling in for him for the last seven years. His one-sided homoerotic rivalry with that bonehead Vox, and incidentally the other Vees, had also been passed on to me. Well, not so much the rivalry itself as the general distaste and animosity for them.

“Again?” I huffed, shifting on my side to face her. I brushed my fingertips along her bare arm, tracing imaginary patterns on her skin.

The gesture made her relax, the annoyance with Vox melting away. “Yeah. But it's just as well, at least we got to make up for last night.”

“Mhm, you're right.” I chuckled, brushing her hair away from her neck to expose the fresh love bites littering her gray skin. The way they bloomed so easily on her pale complexion reminded me of-

No. Enough. I hadn't seen Lute in twenty-seven years, and she either thought me dead, a deserter or a traitor. Even if I could get a chance to see her again, the odds of her wanting me back were far too slim.

Get out of my head, I groan internally. You're in bed naked with another woman. Stop it.

“So, how are the girls?” I cleared my throat, shaking the previous thoughts out of my head.

“Actually, they've been asking about you.” She hummed. 

“They have?” Her daughters knew about our little affair, as they had seen me sneaking out multiple times before. Before becoming involved with Carmilla, I'd met Clara and Odette at the meetings, they'd accompany her just as I did Alastor. They seemed quite fond of me, and I found it adorable that Carmilla named them after ballet characters. I wanted to protect all three of them, it finally felt like having a family again, but seeing Lute again…

Ugh, what's the point? I'd never get back to Heaven again. I needed to care about the family I had to protect now, situationship or not.

“Yeah. They said they'll keep you if I will.” She chuckled, gazing at me with something beyond simple care in her eyes. Damn it.

“They really said that?” I laughed softly, endeared. 

“Yeah.” She said, nuzzling her nose into my neck. My hand buried itself in her hair, stroking through the silky white and black locks that flopped over her forehead. Carmilla was a single mother and extremely busy. Even if Clara and Odette weren't children, they needed to be maintained. It's not like they had money problems, but if either of them ever wanted to go on their own path, they'd need support in any way they could. The way they had so much faith in me made me feel responsible for them. 

I made up my mind. If Carmilla decided to ask me out on a proper date, I'd say yes.

“In fact, I've been thinking-” My ringtone cut her off, which made me curse under my breath and peer over my shoulder to see who was calling. Vaggie. Fuck. She hung up and a message appeared on the screen:

SOS, Pentious is back at the hotel

18:37

“Son of a bitch.” I mumbled, running a hand through the single tuft of golden mane atop my head. 

“What- what's going on?” She stuttered, sitting up on her elbows to gaze at me with a little nervousness in her gaze.

“Some buffoon who attacked this morning is back at the hotel. I have to deal with this,” I huffed and sat up, gathering my clothes from the insane spots they had ended up in. “I'll make this up to you, I promise.”

I pulled my purple striped jacket on and buttoned it up, then bent down to plant a long, passionate kiss on her lips, thumb rubbing her cheekbone with care. I smiled at her and pressed another kiss to her forehead, which drew another smile from her. “Bye, cielo.” 

“Bye, corazòn. Text me when you're safe.”

I nodded at her and ran a hand through my mane to fix it, then blew her another kiss and walked out the door, running down the stairs and towards the hotel as fast as possible.

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

I reached the hotel and spotted a flash of gray and yellow walking inside, recognizing it as Pentious, which drew a low growl from my throat. My claws protracted with a small shink noise and I stalked after him without a sound, tail swaying side to side for balance as I prepared to pounce- “Change of plans, he's staying.”

“I'm sorry, what?”

“He says he wants to try redemption.” Vaggie explained with a look of dismay.

“But he attacked us just this morning, how is that not a trick?” I gritted, ears perking up at  each of his hisses with great irritation. 

“It is, but the point here is to give people second chances,” she sighed, looking at Charlie as she showed him around the hotel. “Just keep your eyes open. Don't leave her side, especially not when he's around.”

“Alright.” I mumbled and followed after them, eyes already supervising his each and every move like a hawk. I let out a silent huff. I couldn't believe that I had to leave Carmilla alone after sex to put up with a nutbag and a golden retriever’s poor judgment.

“What are you booing about? Taco booty call got cut off?” Angel asked sleazily, elbowing me in the side with two arms.

“How many minorities can you offend in a single breath?” I replied with a roll of my eyes, crossing my arms as I followed after Charlie, not drawing my gaze from her and Pentious.

“If that pisses you off, you should watch the Olympics with me.”

I sighed in exasperation and trailed after them, ears twitching atop my head as I listened to their conversation, “-and this is the new wall after you broke the last one, heh, and- oh! This, this is-”

“Babe, you don’t have to show him every detail.”

“Sorry, I’m just so excited to have our first real guest!”

Right. A hissy man child who destroyed one of our walls and came back six hours later to request sanctuary. There’s no way this could end badly.

“What the hell am I then?” Angel asked, offended.

“A spider that lives here rent free.” I replied promptly, tail curling around my leg as I moved my gaze back to Pentious, as ordered.

“Well, you’re an important part of our family here, Angel, but you, um…”

“Constantly make us look bad, sexually harass the staff and have literally never once tried to improve?”

“Correct.” I affirmed, having nothing more to add to the list.

“What they mean is, it’s nice to have someone interested for once.” Charlie rephrased in a misguided attempt to soften Vaggie’s true words. “Over here, we have Nifty!”

“The bad boy is back!” The little lady exclaimed, crawling up Pentious’ upper body and clinging to his shoulders with a creepy whisper, “Never leave me again.”

“Don’t mind her, we’re about eighty percent sure she’s harmless.” I said, coming up behind him and standing over at Charlie’s side, giving him a death glare that ensured that Nifty was harmless, but I sure wasn’t.

“And over here, we have-”

Oh, boy, here we go.

There stood Alastor, with his questionable posture, his signature grin and his hands resting home on his lower back. I rolled my eyes fondly and watched the scene unfold with amusement, as Pentious had ripped his coat earlier today.

“-oh, uh, Alastor, our gracious facility manager! You’ve met our newest guest, Sir Pentious… heh, heh.” Charlie chuckled nervously as Pentious gave an awkward wave.

“Ah, yes, you’re the one that ruined my coat,” said Alastor, drawing another eye roll from me. And so it begins. “I definitely remember you now.”

They're cute when they're about to wet themselves. I cringed while Pentious swallowed thickly and Charlie's expression grew into a concerned one and she scrambled to salvage the situation. “Well, I guess this is a great time for your first lesson-”

She cleared her throat and I smirked, leaning against the railing of the stairs as I observed the princess mediating the two petty, petty men. “-how to apologize. The first step to becoming a better person is to admit when you are wrong. Why don't you give it a try?”

Charlie pushed Pentious forward and Alastor kept staring at him with his scary-ass smile, while the snake man smiled awkwardly and tried his best to apologize. “Yes, um… Mr., um, Radio Demon, sir, please forgive me for attacking you and ruining your very lovely coat… um, here…”

He pulled a chunk of red fabric from his pocket and handed it to Al, obviously thinking it was a good idea. I snickered under my breath and pretended to rub my jaw to cover it up, watching the scene with great amusement. “Oh-ho, not many people have been able to take even this much off me! It must have meant quite a lot to you.” 

After putting on a look of faux empathy, he set the fabric on fire, green flames wrapping the material in a tiny blaze as he held it between his red gloved fingertips. I pursed my lips tightly to keep any comments or laughter at bay while the other two stared at the flames with concern.

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

“Now, with a new resident, I think it's important that we all get to know each other, so we are going to play a little game. Everyone, follow me,” Charlie began, then cleared her throat softly and sang, “My name is Charlie - clap, clap - I like to sing - clap, clap - and when we get to know each other, it's the greatest thing - clap, clap.”

She then pointed at me, who sat beside her, and I stumbled over my words, scrambling in my mind for any good ideas for the improv. “Uh, my name is Y/N - clap, clap - I like to draw - clap, clap - and when I'm in difficult endeavors I try not to use my claws - clap, clap.” I pointed at Pentious with an expectant look, still distrusting of him. 

“My name's Sir Pentious - clap, clap - I like to build - clap, clap - and despite my stupid Egg Bois, I think I'm very skilled - clap, clap.” The three of us looked at Angel, the one that was left to play the game. 

He boredly looked up from his phone and grumbled, “This is stupid.”

“This is not stupid - clap, clap - it's just the game - clap, clap - Y/N and Sir Pentious did it well, so now please try to do the same - clap, clap.” Charlie sang, hoping to keep this from falling apart. Angel was never particularly interested in redemption itself, maybe it was the free room and food, because, and I quote, crack is expensive.

“I'm too sober for this.” He complained, rubbing his face with one of his hands.

“Well, get used to it and learn how to play,” I began, which Vaggie finished with, “This is gonna be your whole day - clap, clap.”

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

This was hilarious.

I had to purse my lips to keep from laughing because this is the best thing I've ever seen since Alastor's commercial. Angel was wearing a trench coat and a hat and roleplaying a crack dealer, while Pentious was wearing white and eating a lollipop. Oh, if only I could get this on video.

“Oh, I'm a bad man on the streets who never got enough hugs. Now where's an innocent kid I can sell crack to?” Angel read. My God, the script was garbage, but it's so garbage that it's actually good. “Wow! Who wrote this?”

“It's great, right?” Of course it was Charlie. 

“I'm telling you, you're no Homer, but it's really funny.” I snickered, drawing my bottom lip between my teeth and rubbing my jaw to hide the chuckles escaping my mouth. My phone pinged in my pocket and I took it out, seeing the notification from Carmilla. Damn it, I forgot to text her.

Are you alright corazón?

22:37

Are you safe? 

22:37

Hey <3

22:37

Yeah, sorry I forgot to text you earlier

22:38

Everything's fine, it was just a false alarm

22:38

What happened?

22:38

I'll call you later and tell you all about it, okay?

22:38

I have a little thing to finish up right now

22:39

Okay, have fun

22:39

Bye amorcito <3

22:39 

Bye <3

22:40

“The only cool thing here is to say no to drugs,” Pentious recited with a proud smile. I still didn't trust him, but at least he seems to be trying. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to not have sexual intercourse before marriage!”

“Yes! Oh, bravo!” Charlie cheered. 

“Nah, no one in Heaven cares about that, anyway.” I said carelessly, which caused Alastor's radio filter to static for a brief moment. Damn it. 

“Really?”

“Uh, yeah, think about it. Adam's in charge and he's probably had sex with half womankind.” I replied, my heart and stomach deflating with relief at my last ditch salvation. I couldn't believe I was about to spill my biggest secret out of a dumb comment. 

“Yeah, she's got a point. The guy spent half the meeting talking about some girl he scored with.” Charlie complained, which drew a humorless chuckle from me.

While Charlie praised Pentious for his performance, I noticed Angel Dust walking up the stairs with a weird look on his face. He usually kept up this act of being horny all the time, now it's just… gone. A small confused frown settled on my lips before I walked to my room, excited to call Carmilla.

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Loud crashing and arguing roused me from my sleep. I opened my eyes and yawned, ears twitching towards the sounds below. It's like one in the morning, what in Heaven's name is up with these people?

With a groggy whine, I got up from my plush mattress and waddled down the stairs, following Charlie and Vaggie to the library with half-lidded eyes. I pushed the door open and saw Angel glaring at Sir Pentious, which made me tense in alert and my tail stiffen. I had a bad feeling about this.

“What's going on?” Charlie yawned.

Angel, with a grip on Pentious’ arm and an angry expression, gritted out, “This little bitch is a traitor!”

His words made me frown and I glared at the snake as well, claws protracting out of instinct as I awaited any confirmation. I knew there was no way he could change his mind in the span of six hours, I should never have let this happen. “Preposterous! I would never betray you. You are my best friends!"

I moved out of the way when he hugged Charlie and Vaggie, a grumble of apprehension and distrust falling from my lips. “Uh-huh, then explain this.” Angel pulled a book aside and uncovered a camera. I recognized it as a VoxTek device from the vibrant blue static line on the side, to which I bared my fangs and a low growl rumbled from my throat.

“You dirty little liar.” I hissed and took a step forward while Pentious scrambled to the window and pleaded for evacuation. Vox answered the phone and I trotted forward, standing just behind Pentious in case he had to be stopped.

“I can't believe we thought you could handle even something this simple,” Vox patronized. I should have known. I did know. I should have stopped it while I had the chance, I knew I shouldn't have let him in. “Do us a favor, if they don't kill you, go ahead and do it yourself, you miserable failure!”

My ears drooped and my lips morphed into a frown. That was really over the line, even for a back-stabber. I saw how the tears beaded up in the corners of his eyes and he lost hope, which made my heart hurt a little. He walked over to us and lied down on the ground, “Just make it quick, I guess… not that I deserve it.”

“Gladly.” Vaggie said and approached him with her spear, which made me hold out a hand in front of her to stop her.

“No, don't.”

“Pentious?” Charlie approached the snake curled up on the ground and extended a hand to him with a kind smile.

♪ It starts with sorry

I saw how he blinked with confusion when she chose to spare him, and to help him, no less. I watched with a soft tilt of my head and a little smile as she helped him up and encouraged him.

♪ That's your foot in the door

One simple sorry

Charlie touched a hand to his chest, which made him look at her with a different look, almost one of surprise.

♪ The path to forgiveness is a twisting trail of hearts

But sorry is where it starts

Pentious shook his head and stepped aside, dejected and unconvinced. 

♪ Who could forgive a dirtbag like me?

I don't deserve your amnesty

♪ Can't we just kill him? 

Shoot him and spill his blood?

Angel and Vaggie piled on, backing him into a shelf with their respective weapons, the spear and the machine guns. I walked to stand in front of Sir Pentious to keep them from harming him and sing,

♪ That's an option you could choose

♪ Works for us

♪ But who hasn't been in his shoes? 

Charlie joined in with me at the next verse, once again extending her hand, and this time he took it, dancing along with her.

♪ It starts with sorry

♪ Sorry

♪ Dig down deeper and say one sincere sorry

♪ I'm so sorry

Pentious said dramatically but from the heart and dipped into our arms, which drew a smile from me and I pushed him back up to encourage him to keep going. Vaggie and Angel still looked skeptical, but to me it seemed honest.

♪ And your journey's under way

♪ It'll take time to cover your vast multitude of sins

But sorry is where it begins

It starts with sorry

Nifty walked in in a little pink nightgown, standing at the door with a pout. “I hated that song! Why are you so lame? Not a bad boy!” She gave him a little kick and stomped away and I laughed, patting him on the back and shaking my head fondly.

“Good first day,” Charlie sighed and walked out with Vaggie's arm around her waist, Angel following suit. “Let's get some rest.”

I chuckled softly and rested a hand on his shoulder, offering him a kind smile. “Welcome, new guy.”

He smiled back and nodded gratefully, then we walked along all together to our rooms. Before leaving the hallway, I heard Alastor's voice ringing out and Vox raging on the device, followed by Alastor's cackle. A smirk of satisfaction adorned my lips and my tail curled mischievously behind me as I walked away, satisfied with the Vees’ failure.

As long as they stayed away from my home, I'd be happy. 

[silent-partner-412]

a 3 hour video explaining the iceberg of sonadow (sonic x shadow) was recommended to me yesterday and for some reason i decided to give it a watch and i actually have thoughts.

my main takeaway was that my god an iceberg format was NOT the way to present this topic because the deeper it got the more i was like okay jesus christ i get it. it was actually the earlier stuff that was more compelling to me, like homoerotic official art, random stills from the shows and comics that had me raising eyebrows, and the comparisons to pairings like knuckles and rouge that, even as a more or less outsider to the sonic lore (my experience with the series has been 99% the 2d games), i’m aware are accepted to have a lot of sexual tension. as we got deeper and deeper and it became very specific lines from the more infamous games, that’s where they lost me. by that point we’d reached terminal shipper brain and i just had to stop watching lol.

it was still sort of interesting on a more meta level though. it felt like a microcosm of passionate shipping culture, and to be honest, there’s a level of authenticity there that yeah, is a little cringe, but it was earnest, which i appreciate. the internet can act like being cringe is the worst possible sin one can commit, when in reality i think the reason i found it cringe was cuz i was just not the target audience. also, some of the points made regarding the sonic fanbase’s poor treatment of fans of sonadow felt pretty resonant, mostly because you see stuff like that in almost every fanbase that has popular gay ships. the whole video was an act of pure fandom, and i always find stuff like that interesting.