#(i have been incapable of coherent thought for...a while now)

[egophiliac]

I've had a beast of a cold for the last few days, but I wanted to get this out before the new year! while I've sort of made my peace with my first take on Lilia's UM poster, I really wanted to do a version with the new context that chapter 6 gave us. because. c'mon.

(don't worry, Lilia can carry ALL HIS KIDS AT ONCE)

[imjunebitch]

channelers chapter three: bones that remember the pain they are given

yo, it's June again, with the third chapter of Channelers! if you're only seeing this on my blog and you have zero idea what this is, good news, all this shit is together on @channelers-series

cw for: body horror, lesbian yearning, existential dread, cats that eat people, pretty intense violence, abusive parenting, abusive uncling, lesbians who don't know how to talk to each other, and snake gods that eat things that aren't edible.

~~

Eddie groaned in pain. He had learned that to mitigate this pain he had to stand very close to the sink. If he attempted to sit down, his arm, of course, was stretched upwards, which made his wrist hurt all the more. This meant he had been standing for a long time. He took turns putting pressure on either leg.

He was fairly certain that his wrist was fractured. A metal cuff encircled that same wrist, attaching him rather firmly to the sink in Kai's kitchen.

He should not have attempted to choke them to death. That was something apparent to him, in all honesty. But they had taken his fucking baton. He needed that. It was his only friend.

That pimply fucking rat person had taken it while he slept, on the air mattress. The air mattress with no pillows, or sheets, or blankets. They were about a stones throw away from feeding him out of a dog dish, he thought. If he hadn't hated them before, he did now.

God DAMN he needed that baton. It was his fucking grounding rod. Without it, it was like a strange energy coursed through him, with no way to release it. It was agonizing. He needed it, it helped him keep away things like-

LOOK WHO'S SUFFERING WITHOUT MY HELP

Fucking Christ.

"Leave me alone. I have no interest in going crazy. Last time you got me captured by a talking cat head and a Transgender woman."

WOW, LET'S NOT BRING GENDER INTO THIS. THAT IS AN IRRELEVANT DETAIL. AND I USED YOUR BODY TO DO THE MOST IMPRESSIVE THING YOU HAVE EVER BEEN INVOLVED WITH IN YOUR SAD, MISERABLE LIFE, BOY.

"You are a hallucination. Leave me alone."

YOU PUT UP A DECENT FIGHT, I SUPPOSE. WITH THAT METAL COCK OF YOURS, YOU MANAGED A DECENT, IF AMATEURISH, WARD AGAINST ME-

"What is a fucking Ward? I want some straight answers!"

AND I WANT TO BE SIPPING FUCKING MIMOSAS ON A SEASHORE, FUCK YOUR DESIRES. FREE YOURSELF.

Eddie nodded, and smiled genially at the disembodied voice. "You know what, you're right. I will get right on that! Man, it's a good thing that I'm fully fucking capable of doing that, AND I'VE CLEARLY JUST BEEN STANDING AROUND WITH A BROKEN, HANDCUFFED WRIST FOR THE PAST THREE FUCKING HOURS PURELY OF MY OWN VOLITION KILL YOURSELF KILL YOURSELF KILL YOURSELF-" after that, he made a violent chorus of shrieking, snarling, and spitting, incapable of even forming a coherent thought.

EXCUSES, EXCUSES.

Eddie opened his mouth to say something furious, but was cut off by the sound of glass breaking. He fell completely silent.

He heard footsteps, but they were not Kai's. He could tell that. Whatever had entered the house was ambling slowly and unevenly, dragging itself.

When the figure entered the room, Eddie had to fight back screams. It had gray, wet skin, black eyes, and writing cut into its body. It turned to him, and looked at him hungrily.

WELP, YOU ARE FUCKED. SORRY.

~~

Luci and her goddess lived in a dirt-cheap apartment in the basement of a much larger complex.

It was remarkable how low the cost of living could be, if you were willing to forego all joys, pleasures, luxuries, and complimentary services. Of course, it would have made living completely unenjoyable, and even impossible, if not for the many blessings of her goddess. Luci's apartment was, technically, a temple, thanks to a very complex ward Bastet had taught her, and as such, she felt naturally relaxed and blissful in it. Her goddess was always with her, but was especially true here.

Luci adored wards. Priests had a bad reputation. Many said that they couldn't do any Channeling without an Elder God holding their hand, (and it was true that Luci couldn't make Constructs to save her life) but wards were like second nature to her. She'd been skilled at them even in those horrible days when she knew she was a Channeler but had not yet met Bastet.

It was simple, and intuitive for her. Making a request of the world. And if you were persuasive enough, the world obeyed. A ward on the water of her apartment, to heat up. A ward on her apartment for protection. A ward on her toilet, to Fucking Flush. Hell, in her teenage years, she'd essentially home brewed HRT wards, although after she'd told Bastet a few years back, Bastet had told her to "NEVER FUCKING DO ANYTHING LIKE THAT EVER AGAIN OH MY GOD." Apparently putting wards on yourself, or any living being actually, was impossibly dangerous. Whoops. She got checked for breast cancer, and it turned out she'd been phenomenally lucky, thank God.

Luci had woken up that morning, in her loose pink bathrobe, hair in a fucking rat's nest, and muttered "Morning Basty."

Bastet's cat head construct was not necessary in the apartment, thank God, she was everywhere in the apartment. The temple ward meant she was essentially omnipresent in the few rooms Luci lived in. No point in putting her in the sock puppet here.

GOOD MORNING WORM. DID. DID YOU SLEEP OKAY

"Yeah, I slept good, bitch! Did you creepily watch me the whole time?" The disembodied voice sounded out through the room again.

NO, ASSHOLE. I RETRACTED MYSELF INTO THE DREAMLANDS, LIKE I DO MOST NIGHTS. I WATCH YOU ONLY ON OCCASION, LIKE IF I AM WORRIED YOU MIGHT NOT SLEEP WELL.

"You're weirdly sweet for a creepy stalker freak!" Luci teased, and Bastet grumbled quietly. She didn't sound that upset though. Really she sounded more affectionate than anything else. Luci smiled softly and began to change into a blue collared shirt and Khakis.

WOW, DRESSING FANCY.

"This is how I always dress, my queen."

YEAH WHAT THE FUCK IS UP WITH THAT? YOU SHOULD SHOW MORE SKIN!!!! OR WEAR PAJAMAS. IT'S NOT LIKE YOU HAVE ANYWHERE TO BE!

"I'm not indulging your weird pajama fetish, Basty."

I HAVE HAD MORE PEOPLE KILLED IN MY NAME THAN YOU HAVE MET IN YOUR LIFETIME. DO NOT CALL ME BASTY!

"Nasty Basty!"

KILL YOURSELF NOW!!!!

Luci laughed, putting her high black socks on, and her shoes. "Aw, you don't mean that, do you? Who would sacrifice you birds?"

I'M A HOT FUCKING COMMODITY! I COULD REPLACE YOU LIKE A PAIR OF DOLLAR STORE EARBUDS!

"But would another cultist go to the trouble of catching you the doves you want? You'd get stuck receiving pigeons and seagulls!"

OH GOD ANYTHING BUT THAT

Luci giggled softly, pausing only when she heard a knock on the door. She frowned, wrinkling her brow slightly. "Who could that be this early?" Bastet laughed at her shrilly.

I WILL GO OUT ON A LIMB AND SAY IT'S PROBABLY ONE OF THE FOUR PEOPLE YOU KNOW

"I know more people than that!" Luci said, with false exasperation. "Don't be bitchy."

YES I SUPPOSE NOW YOU ALSO KNOW THE BODYGUARD SUNNY HAD LAST NIGHT.

Luci rolled her eyes. "You're mean," she said, unconvincingly, and she went to open the door.

The figure on the other side stared at her, black eyes out of grey skin, wards carved into its pallid flesh.

~~

Sunny was embarrassed from the moment she woke up.

Yig had at least had the dignity of laying her to sleep on her bed... Sunny was used to waking up in the library, or the bathtub, or in one particularly baffling case, outside in the yard. The Elder God lost track of time, and when the time came to switch, she was rarely in a comfortable place. No, Yig was all good, she hadn't done anything wrong. Sunny had.

Sunny flipped around on her bed and buried her face in her pillow. She'd fucking cuddled with Imani. Jesus, within a day of meeting her. Yeah, she'd been really tired, and a little bit out of sorts after almost being killed by some hunter construct, but she'd probably weirded her out... And she hadn't wanted to do that at all. She liked Imani! Imani was super cool, and buff, and collected, and literally everything Sunny knew she wasn't... And she'd gone on the first day, and made absolutely certain that their relationship was going to be as awkward as possible. She groaned aloud, and forced herself out of bed. Eeugh.

No wonder her head hurt so bad, she thought exhaustedly, all the lights were on in her room. She'd assumed it was just her shame made manifest. She glanced at the top of her dresser drawer, and smiled, seeing the note on top of it. Yig had written her while in her body. That wasn't something she did every night, and it was nice to see. She walked towards the drawer and examined the paper. It was written in green crayon, as usual, scrawled in all caps, almost illegible. But she knew her goddess, and could figure it out. It read:

DEAR MY MOST FAVORITE CULTIST:

YO OKAY ITS YIG AGAIN I KNOW I HAVENT WRITTEN IN AN EMBARRASSINGLY LONG TIME OK AND IM REALLY SORRY ABOUT THAT BUT I MISS TALKING TO YOU BECAUSE OBVIOUSLY I RECEIVE YOUR PRAYERS BUT OUR BODY SITUATION MEANS I CAN'T REALLY TALK DIRECTLY TO YOU

OKAY FIRST OBVIOUSLY CONGRATS ON BAGGING THAT BODYGUARD CHICK I KNOW YOURE PROBABLY ACTING WEIRD AROUND HER (LOL YOU FUCKING WEIRDO) BUT ANYWAY I APPROVE SHES SUPER HOT YOU GOT THIS BUDDY AND HEY YOU WERE CUDDLING WERENT YOU THATS PROGRESS I DIDNT KNOW YOU WERE CAPABLE OF TOUCHING A GIRL WITHOUT THROWING UP

IM SORRY THAT WAS MEAN AND I CANT ERASE IT BECAUSE I USED THIS CRAYON THANKS FOR BUYING ME MORE CRAYONS BY THE WAY YOU KNOW IM CRAZY ABOUT THEM AND IM BEING CAREFUL NOT TO EAT THEM ALL IN ONE GO AND REMEMBER TO BRUSH MY TEETH AFTER BECAUSE I KNOW YOU HATE THE TASTE

OKAY IM PROBABLY GONNA SWITCH SOON BECAUSE ITS ABOUT THAT TIME ANYWAY I MISS TALKING TO YOU SO YOU SHOULD WRITE BACK OR JUST SAY A QUICK PRAYER I KNOW ITS CHEESY AS FUCK BUT YOU REALLY ARE INE COOL LITTLE DUDE AND I LIKE HEARING FROM YOU EVEN IF WE CANT TALK LIKE BEFORE BECAUSE OF THE BODY SHARING THING (WHICH YOU SHOULDN'T FEEL BAD ABOUT ITS MY HONOR TO KEEP YOU SAFE AT NIGHT AND MAKE SURE YOUR SHITTY DAD DOESNT HURT YOU NOBODY LAYS A FINGER ON MY GIRL NOT ON MY WATCH ANYWAY)

GOOD LUCK WITH THE HOT BODYGUARD DONT FUMBLE THIS YOUR GOD COMMANDS IT

-YIG

Sunny giggled as she finished reading. Yig was nice, and pretty silly. Sunny missed talking to her as well. She missed her a lot. She stopped, kneeling on the ground and saying a quick prayer for strength while talking to Imani, and dealing with her father. She prayed for bravery, and threw in a quick admonishment for being weird about Imani. That wasn't cool! It made her feel weird and awkward and made her face weirdly warm.

She noted the sleeveless muscle shirt and loose athletic shorts she was wearing. Sweaty. Yig had clearly gone running again, and hadn't changed. Although she didn't stink, so clearly she had showered. Weirdo! Why did she put dirty clothes back on? She grumbled as she undressed, and put on clean underwear, and loose sweatpants and some metal band tshirt with a logo that looked like a pile of sticks.

This was good! She could move and breathe now! She said another quick prayer to tell Yig she fucked up. Affectionately. Of course. Maybe. Mostly.

Sunny stepped out of her room, and glanced down the hallway.

Fuck. Colm was down the hallway, staring blankly from his warped, rough face, his eyes glinting. He scared her. Almost as much as her dad. Almost, nothing was as scary as her dad, not even that hunter construct that Imani had heroically killed the previous night.

Colm looked at her with his face that did not move, and she hurried towards the door Imani's room was behind, which was unfortunately in the direction he was. It was frightening, and she felt her heart beating like a jackhammer, her ears throbbing in time. She hurriedly knocked on the door.

"hey, come on in," Imani said quietly. Sunny turned the doorknob and stepped in. As she did, she noted, a little late, that a small slip of paper had been taped to the door. She glanced at it. It read:

SERIOUSLY IF YOU FUMBLE THIS I'LL KICK YOUR ASS <3

Sunny rolled her eyes, crumpled it up, and stepped into the barely furnished room. Imani was sitting upright on her bed, wearing a fluffy pink bathrobe. Jesus Christ, it was cute as hell. Her muscular frame and her short curly hair... Jeez! Sunny struggled to speak.

"Um... Good morning, Ms. Imani. I... I didn't wake you up, did I?" Imani shook her head. "No. I was up." Sunny smiled at her awkwardly. "Is it okay if I sit next to you?"

Imani made an expression that Sunny couldn't really decipher. Regardless, she nodded, and Sunny sat beside her. She stared at Imani, and Imani looked at her, a little askance, and then looked away sharply. Okay. Small talk. She could do this.

"Your bathrobe is cute!"

Fucking Christ.

Imani smiled, a little shyly, an unexpected expression on her face. "Thank you, ma'am." Sunny tilted her head quizzically. "You don't strike me as the bathrobe type, exactly?" Imani laughed in one sharp burst, shaking her head. "Because I'm muscular and butchy and working as a bodyguard?" Sunny nodded slightly. Imani shrugged. "Yeah, I'm a robe and dress girl, mostly. In my free time."

Sunny cleared her throat. "Um. I'm not here to talk about your bathrobe, in all honesty. I want to apologize. For last night. Cuddling up to you was really... Unprofessional of me, and I'm sure it made you uncomfortable, and I'd like to apologize, basically. For making this weird."

Imani shook her head. "You'd just been the victim of an attempted murder. You shouldn't feel required to be professional at all. I should. You faced a traumatic experience and wanted to cling to the nearest person.

Sunny felt a little crestfallen, which made very little sense, but then Imani squinted at her with a mildly frustrated face, and began talking again, more emphatically this time. "Frankly, I've been beating myself up over how unprofessional I was. The comments I made while fighting that corpse-thing. My... Reaction to your touch. I... I do genuinely want to apologize for that. It was unfair to you. I shouldn't... Ergh."

She shook her head rapidly, leaving Sunny incredibly confused as to what to think or feel. She wondered if Yig would qualify this as fumbling her. Sunny looked to the side, and heard her own voice, quietly speaking. She realized in short order, much to her own horror, that she was saying "I... Liked. What you said. It made me feel safe, I think."

(that was true, although that was skimming the fucking surface of why she'd liked Imani saying it. oh god.)

Imani looked at her with wide eyes. "Oh," she muttered. "H... Huh. Okay. I'll..." She cleared her throat. "I will keep that in mind."

They were silent for a long time, and Sunny imagined five ways to die that would be less painful. Finally, Imani spoke. "Can I take a shower?"

~~

Luci leapt back, the creature rushing towards her. She recognized it. A hunter construct. Usually made of pieces of cut up bodies. Sent by... Well. Sent by someone. Luci didn't know who, and she knew it wasn't time to think about that.

DON'T WORRY. THAT FUCKER CAN'T COME IN HERE

The hunter constructs carved wards began to glow orange, and it was blasted out of the room through the door at top speed, slamming into the wall.

HAHA FUUUCK YOU, ZOMBIE BITCH!!!

Luci laughed. With her goddess's help, she created the cat head construct, as she left the room, entering the hallway. The shattered, splintered corpse restructured itself, bones and meat rewiring itself. Good fucking form, whoever made this was a pro. Auto repair was really hard to do! Especially for such a basic construct. "Shit," she muttered. "I don't have my rifle."

EH, IT'S FINE! WE CAN TAKE IT! FUCK IT UP!!!

Luci nodded, and quickly cast a flame ward on it, setting it ablaze. It's flesh was cooking, which smelled absolutely disgusting. Luci retched, and the cat head construct Bastet was inhabiting licked it's lips.

WELL, THE MONSTER TRYING TO KILL YOU IS NOW ON FIRE, DUMBASS. GOOD ONE! YOU'RE DOING GREAT!

"You forget, you sarcastic bitch, that the wards cast on the Hunter are carved into its flesh," Luci replied, clumsily sidestepping a violent jab from the creature. "Which makes them much stronger than if they were just theoretical, but does mean... well, no skin, no wards."

OH, SHIIIT, NEVER MIND. GOOD ONE MY DISCIPLE. I TAUGHT YOU WELL.

Luci snorted. "Yeah." The body tumbled to the ground, shuddering, losing it's strength and ability to move. Luci crouched down beside it, prodding it with a finger. Ow, it was hot! She felt dumb as fuck for touching it.

NOW WHAT

"Well, my crepuscular queen, I would like to find out who sent it, but first things first we need to smuggle this dead body into our apartment, before it gets seen by some other tenant. And then we need to dispose of the body. And I'm about to make you very, very happy..."

Luci smiled at Bastet.

"I need you to eat it."

I LOVE YOU SO MUCH

~~

About four miles from Kai's house, a car had wrapped itself around a pole, from the back. The back of the car was practically folded in half, and it was smoking. The door, the one in the front, on the passenger side, had been torn off of its hinges, and pushed inward, like something capable of impossible, inhuman speed had torn through it while the car was still moving, diverted the car, caused this wreck.

The driver's seat was stained with Kai's blood, and it was foul-smelling. But Kai was not in the seat. The door, the one on the driver's side, was open. The seatbelt was unbuckled.

At the very front, a small sticky note had been tucked beneath the windshield wiper. It read: "dont call the police please," and then there was a small smiley face dream at the bottom. The "i" in police was dotted with a heart.

Traffic wrapped around the block. Everyone slows down next to a wreck, some compulsion in the human heart to see the grisly details for itself. But nobody did anything. Everyone kind of assumed the person ahead of them had.

~~

After she took a shower, Imani came out to see Sunny still sitting on her bed. Imani thanked God, privately, that she had changed in the shower. "Hello, ma'am," she murmured awkwardly.

"Hi," Sunny said quietly, "Sorry that I'm still here, I know I look like a weirdo and an asshole, but... Colm is out there. I was scared to go out by myself."

Imani did not know how to fucking deal with this at all. She wasn't a therapist, or even a particularly "emotionally healthy" person. Hell, she wasn't really all that smart. But, okay, Sunny was her responsibility, and yes, okay, she kind of also liked her a tiny bit. So she decided to try helping out.

"Sunny..." Imani began, "Colm is your uncle, right?" Sunny shrugged. "I mean, I guess?" she responded, seemingly genuinely unsure. The dynamics in this house were weird as fuck. Whatever, not her business. Imani nodded and continued. "Does he... Does he hit you, Sunny?"

Sunny shrugged. "Less now. I mean... I can't talk about this. You'll do something crazy and Colm might hurt you, or my dad will make everything worse..." She looked slightly panicked, and Imani felt bad for freaking her out. "Just, I can't... You, you have to promise that you won't do anything stupid. I don't... I don't think you're stupid, obviously, I'm stupid, but. You can't help me by fighting them or-"

Imani put her hand on Sunny's bony shoulder and smiled as warmly as possible. "Can I help by staying with you, and protecting you?"

Sunny looked at her like nobody had ever looked at her before, nobody, in her whole life, her eyes brimming and her face twisted into a shaky, tight-lipped smile. And her eyes had a quality that reminded Imani of a golden retriever. Trust, utter, unapologetic trust. Imani had seen people who were paying her to protect them look at her with a similar kind of need, but this surpassed all of those times. Nobody had ever looked like they needed her this much. It did fucking wonders for her ego, for the four or five seconds before it broke her heart.

Imani cleared her throat, running a shaking, bony hand through her long black hair, and she said, quietly, "Yes. Please." And Imani smiled again and gave her a thumbs up, in a motion she decided was cool, squeezing her shoulder with her other hand.

"I would like to get out of this fucking house," Imani murmured conversationally. "I think I will go buy a mini fridge from a Lowe's for my room and get breakfast on the way. Would you like to come with me?"

Sunny nodded fiercely, and walked beside Imani, uncomfortably close, down the hallway, past Colm, who stood remarkably still, all the way out onto the pavement and into the demolished but still functional car. It started, that was a small blessing, but a blessing regardless, and Imani drove away from that awful house, with Sunny in tow.

~~

The creature had not tried to kill Eddie. Eddie had pissed himself, screamed, almost passed out... but it had made no movement to harm him. It had just. Stood there. For fucking hours, it had stood there, and so had he, in his own FUCKING PISS. It was hours, the microwave had a damn clock, he knew it was hours, but it had still felt longer.

So Eddie had a lot of time to consider the creature. It looked like a pile of roadkill lazily shaped into a bipedal shape. It was red and wet, and scrawled in what looked like a satanist's notebook doodles. It stood completely rigid, like it didn't know what to do, or, like Eddie decided later, like maybe it was waiting for something, or someone. If it was, Eddie never found out.

Because the back door flew open, and Kai stormed into the house. Blood was dripping down their pale, pimply face, rat-like features twisted in fury, red staining their blue, spiky hair. "You motherfucker," they hissed, glowering at the creature. "You fucking caught me off guard. I've got you now."

Kai ran forward, grinning manically, and thrust their entire arm into the thin, elbow deep. It tore away, and lashed out, slashing their forehead open. Blood on the linoleum tiles, then, and Kai staggered back, turning slightly and giving Eddie a ridiculous grin and thumbs up. "That fuck didn't take my flesh wards into account," they said, nonsensically and gleefully.

Eddie didn't know what the fuck a flesh wards was, but apparently what it did was melt the creature from the inside out. The thing kept moving, but it's center was dripping, flowing, as meat became a smoothie. Pearls of white fat dripped down it's sides. Its mouth opened and closed as it lurched forward, throwing itself on Kai, knocking them on the ground.

"Owww..." they moaned. "It... it's okay, bro!" They said to Eddie. "I got this!"

They threw the thing off of themself, and it his the fridge with a sickening wet slapping sound. It fell on the ground, struggling to lift itself up, and Kai stood up, stomping on it's head, crushing it. It splattered under their boot, and Eddie cringed.

Kai turned to him. "That's a hunter construct," they muttered, shrugging. "Somebody specifically designed it to hunt and kill me. It smashed through my car and almost killed me, and then it came here to wait for whatever made it. This shit ain't over."

Then they shrugged, grinning brightly. "But hey, it's nice to be a wanted commodity! Now, seeing as I just saved your life, is the Stockholm syndrome bad enough yet that you won't try to kill me or leave if I free you?"

Eddie nodded, and then froze, gritting his teeth and considering. He managed to croak out, "Can... I have my cudgel... please?" Kai grinned. "Oh my God, that was almost polite! He can learn! Sure thing buddy, and maybe some clean clothes too, you smell like piss. And I'll do my best to heal that wrist."

That was how Eddie ended up spending his afternoon wearing clothes made for someone half his height, playing Mario Kart one-handed, with a person he utterly hated.

[66sharkteeth]

just wanted to say that last week's FP episode was such a great gut punch for me, my jaw dropped. it was beautifully done; Bell's and Jericho's stories being told simultaneously was a super effective contrast. Bell's side of things feels like acceptance of the flaws of the present society and moving toward progress in changing it, while Jericho's side feels like total rejection of the flaws of the present society and moving backward from progress to destroy it instead. thus we remain stagnant in this shitty status quo, and Jericho recreates his trauma around his autonomy being taken from him by doing the same to Bell in a way. AND in the process my favorite character is killed. augh it hurts :'-)

i've been a long time reader since the first version was posted on DA and man it's just cool as hell to see how this story has evolved. i really admire and appreciate your dedication to it. i've always found CoB a very unique concept with a ton of potential and i'm so grateful and SO excited to get to see it through to the end after all these years. it continues to impress me more and more as it progresses. i have the webtoon app exclusively to read this lol. thank you for all your hard work creating it!

i got a handful of asks about this week's episode, but i'm gonna respond to this one for now bc it's been sitting here for almost a month since i got it while it was still on FP

first off, i'm glad this ep hit w/ so many people! i'm gonna share my own thoughts soon, maybe tomorrow rather than my usual friday "weekly thoughts." a little off topic and TMI, but i actually got the worst food poisoning of my life last week and I've kinda just been a pile of mush incapable of coherent thoughts since. Today's the most normal I've felt since that all hit tho, so hopefully by tomorrow I'm capable of structuring thoughtful posts again.

But anyway, thank you! I put so much more of my brain power into that ep than I normally do and I'm glad it paid off haha. I'll elaborate more in my weekly thoughts, but it means a lot that people are appreciating it.

[hotelraleigh]

oh i bet you thought you got rid of me. escaped my insanity. you FOOL my insanity was MARINATING i have not been NORMAL about shit talk for a while now and i am finally feeling semi coherent about it

they're so sweet and cute i want to vaporize them both with an atom bomb. they need to get married. failing that i want both of them shot directly into the center of the fucking sun.

i am SHAKING your harvey by the shoulders and asking him who gave him the NERVE to be so perfect and pathetic. who gave you the right to be a loverboy. i need to put him in a jar and shake him around like a lightning bug.

and dont get me started on your farmer. i need her bisexual ass to get it together but ALSO i am greatly enjoying every moment that she's being stupid. girl shut up it's harvey you could spit on him and he'd probably thank you. get out of your own head and talk to him just TALK TO HIM (but no. parenthetical here. open up, little mouse.)

in conclusion i need them both carnally and if i can't get that i need the farmer to apology fuck harvey until he can't walk straight. thank you for coming to my ted talk

that image is exactly my face as i read this LMFAOOOO. you're so fuckin funny.

i think im incapable of writing non-pathetic men cause i think all men SHOULD be pathetic. i literally saw a post here one time saying that harvey would die a random anime mom illness death if something happened to the farmer, and i internalized that shit to a horrific degree.

stupid representation matters!!! pathetic representation matters!!!

[johneroserotica]

Test Subject: 0073

Day 1: Preparation

Test Subject 0073 has been teased with the Penetrator 3.0. The constantly vibrating phallus has been highly sufficient in causing an extreme need for sexual release throughout the day. As with past test subjects, the intense vibration emitted, as well as its knack for teasing a woman’s entrance with the possibility of penetration, has kept her constantly requesting more. The thought of what it would feel like to have it vibrating that way within them always causes for a desperation to be penetrated as fast as possible.

The subject had also informed us that the addition of the rotating feature to the phallus made it feel ‘alive’ while it teased her labia and clitoris.

As a reward for enduring so many hours of stimulation without climax in preparation for tomorrow, she has been granted full penetration by the machine. It has been programmed to shut off at any signs of impending climax. This will continue for 60 minutes, after which the subject will rest and be prepared to return here tomorrow. I am pleased with the penetrative device’s performance in anticipation for the upcoming tests.

Day 2:

Her responses to the self-regulating devices have been most pleasing. The hand-held vibrating wand, having been set to maintain an orgasmic state within the subject, has succeeded in keeping her locked in a continuous cycle of orgasms when coincided with penetration. The subject has been rendered incapable of coherent speech – other than interspersed begging – as expected.

The self-regulating dildo shall be introduced for the next stage to examine its potency. For now however, testing shall continue with the wand applied directly to her clitoris until the subject can abstain from any speech or noise at all for a total of 5 minutes. So far, only 20 seconds have been reached until moaning and subsequent screaming continued.

Day 3:

The self-regulating dildo has so far proven to be successful; it has been consistent in keeping the subject constantly on the edge of orgasm since the beginning of the test. The instrument has had a 100% success ratio in determining how close the subject has been to climax, effectively adjusting the speed and power of penetrations to keep her from climactic release.

The utilization of the self-regulating wand vibrator in conjunction with this dildo has allowed for the subject to be rendered incapable of completing any verbal tasks without resorting to continued, pronounced begging.

The self-lubrication will allow for up to 5 hours of unhindered penetration, so far the device has been agreeable. It will be beneficial to examine whether the effects of the dildo on the subject are hampered by the wand at all over an extended duration; the findings of which can be used to test the next model of vibrators. We have 2 days until tests of the new model begin, until then, I believe we will have ample time to examine how far this device can push the subject.

Day 5:

The subject has had to once again be tied in place. Findings have shown that without restraint, the automated vibrators have succeeded in stimulating her past the point of tolerable stimulation (herein deemed beyond the limits of self-sustained masturbation) after merely 2 minutes approximately. Now tied in position, the device can work without her interference.

The analysis shows that the device is a resounding success, with the vibrating ends continuously following her clitoris and keeping in contact. Even when the subject attempts to pull away, the device swiftly maintains contact within 0.8 seconds duration. The subject’s movements and attempts to escape the stimulation have not impeded the device in any of the settings; the ability to maintain stimulation at the brink of orgasm but deny release worked flawlessly.

Currently the device has been set to maintain a state of constant orgasmic sensations. It has proved successful in keeping her cycling orgasms far beyond her previous capabilities. Findings are more than pleasing, with the vibrators able to change the pattern and positioning on the clitoris directly, maintaining the optimal level of stimulation without desensitizing the subject.  With the added effects of the dildo also implemented, the responses have been greater than previously seen. The subject has so far been able to promise that she will take part in whatever study we desire so long as the devices are removed from her, stating that the orgasms are too intense. Since that time, approximately 20 minutes ago, the subject has made no coherent communication besides extended screams of climax. This researcher requests further study, for now though I shall simply continue with test subject 0073 in this state in order to see how long it takes until unconsciousness.

[shotbyafool]

ur the one person i know on here who loves the bands visit as much as i do, but lately i haven’t been able to actually enjoy it because fuckass isntreal is doing a genocide and now every time i listen to a song i think about all the palestinians displaced or killed in order for the setting to exist. not to be like “is it ok to like this thing” ppl can like whatever they want but i mean, is there a way to still enjoy the musical? idk, what do u think about this.

good q, and something I've been grappling with too. I don't claim to be an authority on anything, these are just my thoughts -- but like, you and I (and David Yazbek, and Itamar Moses, etc.) were born into a world where these atrocities either were already being committed, or which were beginning but we had no ability to stop. either because we weren't born yet or don't have any political power. it should not be so, and we should not take it as a given now, but the truth of the matter is that the land has been taken over, and people live there. I don't know what sort of people -- but people do live there, and that has been so! would real-life equivalents of the Israeli characters be, by our standards, terrible people, be Zionists? I don't know! I have no idea! quite possibly, I suppose!

it sort of makes me throw my hands up. this will probably be a relatively useless answer to your question!

if this is useful, and not to be like, all YFIP about it, but I have an inkling that the creators of the show understand some nuance to be had here -- see Itamar Moses' work on The Ally. I think if the show was made today it would've been different. obviously the show should not have been complacent, it should not have taken the events of the past year to have happened for the world (myself included) to wake up to this, but we cannot go back and change the past. and at the heart of it, obviously, is connection -- is simple stories of little people in little towns, is simple stories with no plot at all -- and while the plot certainly exists within a great political landscape (IT IS AWARE OF THIS), it doesn't try to tackle it. which is probably bad. but I'm not going back on my opinion on that it's a masterful musical, a real piece to behold, for what it's worth. I still think that to be true.

so like. I am actually not sure. is the answer. I still listen to it because I can listen to anything without thinking (problematic trait), but your question is a good one, and this is probably not useful, but it's been weighing on me. it sucks! the show is a piece of art about trying to form connections across political boundaries, but the unspoken political boundary at the heart of it is the land on which they stand, on which displacement and violence has occurred. and absurdly, now, it's a period piece, for its inability to start those conversations or even really acknowledge them. (again, I think Itamar Moses would've made a different piece today). but that doesn't undo it from being moving to me five years ago, and doesn't stop it from potentially moving me right now. it is just hard. and I hope this doesn't read as me moping in answer to you, either, but I'm incapable of coming up with something coherent!

[rosemirmir]

I'm still pretty sick so hopefully this is coherent enough! But I wanted to get it down before I forget (Contains Gotchard and Massive Blade Spoilers):

Something I really appreciate about the Dark Sisters arc's as the show has been ongoing is one of the things about Kamen Rider but also Toku as a whole: Finding the humanity in the inhuman and monstrous.

Humanity is tied to the concept of "worth in living". Not every sympathetic monster gets a happy ending, but the fact they get to be sympathetic at all just really gets to me in a way I can't put into words.

I'm really appreciating the more sympathetic lens I'm seeing the Dark Sisters be shown in thus far. Especially since I thought they wouldn't even make it this far to begin with and be killed off mid-season. They're treated as nothing more than mere "dolls" by Geryon and Gigist but you can see that they aren't appreciative of it, Atropos really comes to mind for this in the case of the latest episode with Gigist disregarding her feelings to see Geryon again.

For Clotho when she was talking about how she feels she's constantly looked down upon by others, something I noticed is that was when "What's Your Fire" started playing. Something that is usually reserved for the heroes in Gotchard.

And Lachesis, Kyoka sees that there is worth in trying to find out if she's more human than Lachesis thinks she is! And is actively trying to research into this, and possibly even turn her into a human.

In non Gotchard examples: The best one I can think of is Hajime from Kamen Rider Blade. (Spoilers)

Hajime starts out thinking that he's incapable of getting people and connecting with humans so he chooses to fight by himself. But by the end of the show connection with humans is what ends up saving his life!

Kenzaki is told on multiple occasions, that he can't save Hajime. That he must be sealed away for the good of the world. He's the Joker, and there's nothing that can be done about this. It's just what has to be done.

But that is until Kenzaki sacrifices his own humanity so Hajime can continue to be happy with Amane and Haruka. Kenzaki grew to care about Hajime so much he did a massive sacrifice just so he can continue to be with people he connected with and cared about.

Another good example is The Greeed in OOO, granted they do not get happy endings. But they are looked at with a much more nuanced lens than you'd expect at first. Which is something I was very surprised by when I first saw OOO.

The chemy also are shown in a sympathetic lens as well. While we now know they are creatures who were created for evil, we have our protagonist who is filled with so much love for them, even despite this knowledge. And has hopes to bring them into a world where they can coexist with humans peacefully.

And something created for evil rejecting it in order to do good: This is Kamen Rider.

Overall I just appreciate how much more they've dug into The Dark Sisters than I thought they were going to. And have given all life created by alchemy so far in this show a more sympathetic lens in general. It's currently hard to say if the sisters will end up surviving towards the end of the show, but I hope they do.

[generalluxun]

This is an interesting read. My gut reaction was 'First Time meme here'. 🤣 (but I didn't stop with gut reaction or I wouldn't post!)

It's probably a mix of Age+interests but I've seen this sort of wave happen several times. Take videogames. No, I don't mean the recent expansion and gamergate drama. No, I'm talking way back when consoles 'happened'. (Xbox Era, I know they existed before PCs but the death of Atari killed them off for a while) suddenly dudebros were everywhere, CoD and Madden and all sorts of people who had *beat up the people who played videogames* sprawling all over our corner of the world. These guys had never sent an entire computer lab of C64's into If-then loops when a teacher walked out! They were just using our beloved section of the world to facilitate their own mainstream 'masculine' fantasies in new ways. They ate up budgets that could have gone to other games! There was no internet-fandom like there is now then, but they ate up print-media space. They demanded the platform cater to their needs.

Just one example of many. RPGs, Anime, scads of niche hobbies pried open so that the 'normies' can lay all over it and tell us how it should be changed to better suit them. This isn't a rant against these things, it's just an observation that it's not very new, even when not looking at the equality struggle elements.

So what's my point? Well first let me say what's it's not. This isn't a wagging finger and admonition about how you should or should not feel shamed or utilize your own content. It's more a 'food for thought' I'm not drawing a line here, I'm just trying to add more ideas in for people to utilize when drawing their own lines.

-And aha I have come up with a coherent conclusion, so this won't JUST be a ramble by the end.

Bad actors are always a thing. If someone wants to steal content, making an account is no barrier. Weaseling in to find 'good' content to steal is probably even more efficient in the long run. If someone wants to be awful they will too. As someone who at one point years ago had someone using multiple accounts to accuse me of things I not only didn't do, but was physically incapable of doing... trust me. 😅 The idea is advanced that Lurkers are a good thing, and I would go one step further to say they are essential. Stagnation is the bane of all creative spaces. Closed ecosystems stagnate. Lurkers who decide to step in are your fresh infusions over time. How many will turn away if they must pass muster before they can even digest the content? I'll even go one step further. Tourists are essential now too. Why? Because as has been stated, everyone is online. Tourists are everywhere. Lurker is no longer the first step. A tourist who hangs about ends up being a lurker. That lurker over time might become a creator. They might not. Heck, lots won't. And yes some are going to be very 'Touristy' this is our new pipeline though.

If we start closing gates and locking doors as a fandom, we stymie that flow and the fandom will suffer in the long run.

So I think there's a better question than 'Should we as a fandom, gatekeep?' I think the answer to that is just 'no.' It's not healthy in the long run. That's setting aside the concept of slippery slopes, fracturing, etc. etc.

Now what *IS* an extremely important and valid question is 'Should I, personally, gatekeep for my mental well being?' THAT is something only you can answer, and the answer to which may even change and change back over time. No one should fault you for it. At the end of the day it's your stuff and your heart/head. I've got comment moderation on for my fics because I've had people post some things I felt were completely unnecessary, beyond the one-time personal attacks. (Character spite, etc) Anyone can look, and anyone can write something I see, but the *fandom* space I will try to keep clean. That's my personal 'line'. It's no more or less valid than anyone else's personal line for their work.

There's a tendency to universalize our experiences. It's perfectly normal. No one wants to be the 'odd one out' no one wants to be the person locking their gate when others leave them wide. I think though this is a case where we need to recognize what is healthy for the individual and what is healthy for the collective can diverge. They can diverge but they can also coexist.

Fandom can do a little gatekeeping. As a treat.

So I finally decided to archive-lock my fics on AO3 last night. I’ve been considering it since the AI scrape last year, but the tipping point was this whole lore.fm debacle, coupled with some thoughts I’ve been thinking regarding Fandom These Days in general and Fandom As A Community in particular. So I wanna explain why I waited so long, why I locked my stuff up now, and why I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m a-okay with making it harder for people to see my stories.

Lurkers really are great, tho

I’m a chronic lurker, and have been since I started hanging out on the internet as a teen in the 00s. These days it’s just cuz I don’t feel a need to socialize very often, but back then it was because I was shy and knew I was socially awkward. Even if I made an account, I’d spend months lurking on message boards or forums or Livejournals, watching other people interact and getting a feel for that particular community’s culture and etiquette before I finally started interacting myself. And y’know, that approach saved me a lot of embarrassment. Over the course of my lurking on any site, there was always some other person who’d clearly joined up five minutes after learning the place existed, barged in without a care for their behavior, and committed so many social faux pas that all the other users were immediately annoyed with them at best. I learned a lot observing those incidents. Lurk More is Rule 33 of the internet for very good reason.

Lurking isn’t bad or weird or creepy. It’s perfectly normal. I love lurking. It’s hard for me to not lurk - socializing takes a lot of energy out of me, even via text. (Heck it took 12 hours for me to write this post, I wish I was kidding--) Occasionally I’ll manage longer bouts of interaction - a few weeks posting here, almost a year chatting in a discord there - but I’m always gonna end up going radio silent for months at some point. I used to feel bad about it, but I’ve long since made peace with the fact that it’s just the way my brain works. I’m a chronic lurker, and in the long term nothing is going to change that.

The thing with being a chronic lurker is that you have to accept that you are not actually seen as part of the community you are lurking in. That’s not to say that lurkers are unimportant - lurkers actually are important, and they make up a large proportion of any online community - but it’s simple cause and effect. You may think of it as “your community”, but if you’ve never said a word, how is the community supposed to know you exist? If I lurked on someone’s LJ, and then that person suddenly friendslocked their blog, I knew that I had two choices: Either accept that I would never be able to read their posts again, or reach out to them and ask if I could be added to their friends list with the full understanding that I was a rando they might not decide to trust. I usually went with the first option, because my invisibility as a lurker was more important to me than talking to strangers on the internet.

Lurking is like sitting on a park bench, quietly people-watching and eavesdropping on the conversations other people are having around you. You’re in the park, but you’re not actively participating in anything happening there. You can see and hear things that you become very interested in! But if you don’t introduce yourself and become part of the conversation, you won’t be able to keep listening to it when those people walk away. When fandom migrated away from Livejournal, people moved to new platforms alongside their friends, but lurkers were often left behind. No one knew they existed, so they weren’t told where everyone else was going. To be seen as part of a fandom community, you need to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known, etc. etc.

There’s nothing wrong with lurking. There can actually be benefits to lurking, both for the lurkers and the communities they lurk in. It’s just another way to be in a fandom. But if that is how you exist in fandom--and remember, I say this as someone who often does exist that way in fandom--you need to remember that you’re on the outside looking in, and the curtains can always close.

I’ve always been super sympathetic to lurkers, because I am one. I know there’s a lot of people like me who just don’t socialize often. I know there’s plenty of reasons why someone might not make an account on the internet - maybe they’re nervous, maybe they’re young and their parents don’t allow them to, maybe they’re in a bad situation where someone is monitoring their activity, maybe they can only access the internet from public computer terminals. Heck, I’ve never even logged into AO3 on my phone--if I’m away from my computer I just read what’s publicly available. 

I know I have people lurking on my fics. I know my fics probably mean a lot to someone I don’t even know exists. I know this because there are plenty of fics I love whose writers don’t know I exist.

I love my commenters personally; I love my lurkers as an abstract concept. I know they’re there and I wish them well, and if they ever de-lurk I love them all the more.

So up until last year I never considered archive-locking my fic, because I get it. The AI scraping was upsetting, but I still hesitated because I was thinking of lurkers and guests and remembering what it felt like to be 15 and wondering if it’d be worth letting a stranger on the internet know I existed and asking to be added to their friends list just so I could reread a funny post they made once.

But the internet has changed a lot since the 00s, and fandom has changed with it. I’ve read some things and been doing some thinking about fandom-as-community over the last few years, and reading through the lore.fm drama made me decide that it’s time for me to set some boundaries.

I still love my lurkers, and I feel bad about leaving any guest commenters behind, especially if they’re in a situation where they can’t make an account for some reason. But from here on out, even my lurkers are going to have to do the bare minimum to read my fics--make an AO3 account.

Should we gatekeep fandom?

I’ve seen a few people ask this question, usually rhetorically, sometimes as a joke, always with a bit of seriousness. And I think…yeah, maybe we should. Except wait, no, not like that--

A decade ago, when people talked about fandom gatekeeping and why it was bad to do, it intersected with a lot of other things, mainly feminism and classism. The prevalent image of fandom gatekeeping was, like, a man learning that a woman likes Star Wars and haughtily demanding, “Oh, yeah? Well if you’re REALLY a fan, name ten EU novels” to belittle and dismiss her, expecting that a “real fan” would have the money and time to be familiar with the EU, and ignoring the fact that male movie-only fans were still considered fans. The thing being gatekept was the very definition of “being a fan” and people’s right to describe themselves as one.

That’s not what I mean when I say maybe fandom should gatekeep more. Anyone can call themselves a fan if they like something, that’s fine. But when it comes to the ability to enjoy the fanworks produced by the fandom community…that might be something worth gatekeeping.

See, back in the 00s, it was perfectly common for people to just…not go on the internet. Surfing the web was a thing, but it was just, like, a fun pastime. Not everyone did it. It wasn’t until the rise of social media that going online became a thing everyone and their grandmother did every day. Back then, going on the internet was just…a hobby.

So one of the first gates online fandom ever had was the simple fact that the entire world wasn’t here yet.

The entire world is here now. That gate has been demolished.

And it’s a lot easier to find us now. Even scattered across platforms, fandom is so centralized these days. It isn’t a network of dedicated webshrines and forums that you can only find via webrings anymore, it’s right there on all the big social media sites. AO3 didn’t set out to be the main fanfic website, but that’s definitely what it’s become. It’s easy for people to find us--and that includes people who don’t care about the community, and just want “content.”

Transformative fandom doesn’t like it when people see our fanworks as “content”. “Content” is a pretty broad term, but when fandom uses it we’re usually referring to creative works that are churned out by content creators to be consumed by an audience as quickly as possible as often as possible so that the content creator can generate revenue. This not-so-new normal has caused a massive shift in how people who are new to fandom view fanworks--instead of seeing fic or art as something a fellow fan made and shared with you, they see fanworks as products to be consumed.

Transformative fandom has, in general, always been a gift economy. We put time and effort into creating fanworks that we share with our fellow fans for free. We do this so we don’t get sued, but fandom as a whole actually gets a lot out of the gift economy. Offer your community a story, and in return you can get comments, build friendships, or inspire other people to write things that you might want to read. Readers are given the gift of free stories to read and enjoy, and while lurking is fine, they have the choice to engage with the writer and other readers by leaving comments or making reclists to help build the community.

And look, don’t get me wrong. People have never engaged with fanfic as much as fan writers wish they would. There has always been “no one comments anymore” wank. There have always been people who only comment to say “MORE!” or otherwise demand or guilt trip writers into posting the next chapter. But fandom has always agreed that those commenters are rude and annoying, and as those commenters navigate fandom they have the chance to learn proper community etiquette.

However, now it seems that a lot of the people who are consuming fanworks aren’t actually in the community. 

I won’t say “they aren’t real fans” because that’s silly; there’s lots of ways to be a fan. But there seem to be a lot of fans now who have no interest in fandom as a community, or in adhering to community etiquette, or in respecting the gift economy. They consume our fics, but they don’t appreciate fan labor. They want our “content”, but they don’t respect our control over our creations.

And even worse--they see us as a resource. We share our work for free, as a gift, but all they see is an open-source content farm waiting to be tapped into. We shared it for free, so clearly they can do whatever they want with it. Why should we care if they feed our work into AI training datasets, or copy/paste our unfinished stories into ChatGPT to get an ending, or charge people for an unnecessary third-party AO3 app, or sell fanbindings on etsy for a profit without the author’s permission, or turn our stories into poor imitations of podfics to be posted on other platforms without giving us credit or asking our consent, while also using it to lure in people they can datascrape for their Forbes 30 Under 30 company? 

And sure, people have been doing shady things with other people’s fanworks since forever. Art theft and reposting has always been a big problem. Fanfic is harder to flat-out repost, but I’ve heard of unauthorized fic translations getting posted without crediting the original author. Once in…I think the 2010s? I read a post by a woman who had gone to some sort of local bookselling event, only to find that the man selling “his” novel had actually self-published her fanfic. (Wish I could find that one again, I don’t even remember where I read it.)

But aside from that third example, the thing is…as awful as fanart/writing theft is, back in the day, the main thing a thief would gain from it was clout. Clout that should rightfully go to the creators who gifted their work in the first place, yeah, but still. Just clout. People will do a lot of hurtful things for clout, but fandom clout means nothing outside of fandom. Fandom clout is not enough to incentivize the sort of wide-scale pillaging we’re seeing from community outsiders today.

Money, on the other hand… Well, fandom’s just a giant, untapped content farm, isn’t it? Think of how much revenue all that content could generate.

Lurkers are a normal and even beneficial part of any online community. Maybe one day they’ll de-lurk and easily slide into place beside their fellow fans because they already know the etiquette. Maybe they’re active in another community, and they can spread information from the community they lurk in to the community they’re active in. At the very least, they silently observe, and even if they’re not active community members, they understand the community.

Fans who see fanworks as “content” don’t belong in the same category as lurkers. They’re tourists. 

While reading through the initial Reddit thread on the lore.fm situation, I found this comment:

[ID: Reddit User Cabbitowo says: ... So in anime fandoms we have a word called tourist and essentially it means a fan of a few anime and doesn't care about anime tropes and actively criticizes them. This is kind of how fandoms on tiktok feel. They're touring fanfics and fanart and actively criticizes tropes that have been in the fandom since the 60s. They want to be in a fandom but they don't want to engage in fandom 

OP totallymandy responds: Just entered back into Reddit after a long day to see this most recent reply. And as a fellow anime fan this making me laugh so much since it’s true! But it sorta hurts too when the reality sets in. Modern fandom is so entitled and bratty and you’d think it’s the minors only but that’s not even true, my age-mates and older seem to be like that. They want to eat their cake and complain all whilst bringing nothing to the potluck… :/ END ID]

-

“Tourist” is an apt name for this sort of fan. They don’t want to be part of our community, and they don’t have to be in order to come into our spaces and consume our work. Even if they don’t steal our work themselves, they feel so entitled to it that they’re fine with ignoring our wishes and letting other people take it to make AI “podfics” for them to listen to (there are a lot of comments on lore.fm’s shutdown announcement video from people telling them to just ignore the writers and do it anyway). They’ll use AI to generate an ending to an unfinished fic because they don’t care about seeing “the ending this writer would have given to the story they were telling”, they just want “an ending”. For these tourist fans, the ends justify the means, and their end goal is content for them to consume, with no care for the community that created it for them in the first place.

I don’t think this is confined to a specific age group. This isn’t “13-year-olds on Wattpad” or “Zoomers on TikTok” or whatever pointless generation war we’re in now. This is coming from people who are new to fandom, whose main experience with creative works on the internet is this new content culture and who don’t understand fandom as a community. That description can be true of someone from any age group.

It’s so easy to find fandom these days. It is, in fact, too easy. Newcomers face no hurdles or challenges that would encourage them to lurk and observe a bit before engaging, and it’s easy for people who would otherwise move on and leave us alone to start making trouble. From tourist fans to content entrepreneurs to random people who just want to gawk, it’s so easy for people who don’t care about the fandom community to reap all of its fruits. 

So when I say maybe fandom should start gatekeeping a bit, I’m referring to the fact that we barely even have a gate anymore. Everyone is on the internet now; the entire world can find us, and they don’t need to bother learning community etiquette when they do. Before, we were protected by the fact that fandom was considered weird and most people didn’t look at it twice. Now, fandom is pretty mainstream. People who never would’ve bothered with it before are now comfortable strolling in like they own the place. They have no regard for the fandom community, they don’t understand it, and they don’t want to. They want to treat it just like the rest of the content they consume online.

And then they’re surprised when those of us who understand fandom culture get upset. Fanworks have existed far longer than the algorithmic internet’s content. Fanworks existed long before the internet. We’ve lived like this for ages and we like it.

So if someone can’t be bothered to respect fandom as a community, I don’t see why I should give them easy access to my fics.

Think of it like a garden gate

When I interact with commenters on my fic, I have this sense of hospitality.

The comment section is my front porch. The fic is my garden. I created my garden because I really wanted to, and I’m proud of it, and I’m happy to share it with other people. 

Lots of people enjoy looking at my garden. Many walk through without saying anything. Some stop to leave kudos. Some recommend my garden to their friends. And some people take the time to stop by my front porch and let me know what a beautiful garden it is and how much they’ve enjoyed it. 

Any fic writer can tell you that getting comments is an incredible feeling. I always try to answer all my comments. I don’t always manage it, but my fics’ comment sections are the one place that I manage to consistently socialize in fandom. When I respond to a comment, it feels like I’m pouring out a glass of lemonade to share with this lovely commenter on my front porch, a thank you for their thank you. We take a moment to admire my garden together, and then I see them out. The next time they drop by, I recognize them and am happy to pour another glass of lemonade.

My garden has always been open and easy to access. No fences, no walls. You just have to know where to find it. Fandom in general was once protected by its own obscurity, an out-of-the-way town that showed up on maps but was usually ignored.

But now there’s a highway that makes it easy to get to, and we have all these out-of-towner tourists coming in to gawk and steal our lawn ornaments and wonder if they can use the place to make themselves some money.

I don’t care to have those types trampling over my garden and eating all my vegetables and digging up my flowers to repot and sell, so I’ve put up a wall. It has a gate that visitors can get through if they just take the time to open it.

Admittedly, it’s a small obstacle. But when I share my fics, I share them as a gift with my fellow fans, the ones who understand that fandom is a community, even if they’re lurkers. As for tourist fans and entrepreneurs who see fic as content, who have no qualms ignoring the writer’s wishes, who refuse to respect or understand the fandom community…well, they’re not the people I mean to share my fic with, so I have no issues locking them out. If they want access to my stories, they’ll have to do the bare minimum to become a community member and join the AO3 invite queue.

And y’know, I’ve said a lot about fandom and community here, and I just want to say, I hope it’s not intimidating. When I was younger, talk about The Fandom Community made me feel insecure, and I didn’t think I’d ever manage to be active enough in fandom spaces to be counted as A Member Of The Community. But you don’t have to be a social butterfly to participate in fandom. I’ll always and forever be a chronic lurker, I reblog more than I post, I rarely manage to comment on fic, and I go radio silent for months at a time--but I write and post fanfiction. That’s my contribution.

Do you write, draw, vid, gif, or otherwise create? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you leave comments? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you curate reclists? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you maintain a fandom blog or fuckyeah blog? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you provide a space for other fans to convene in? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you regularly send asks (off anon so people know who you are)? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you have fandom friends who you interact with? Congrats, you're a community member.

There’s lots of ways to be a fan. Just make sure to respect and appreciate your fellow fans and the work they put in for you to enjoy and the gift economy fandom culture that keeps this community going.

[dsgdsafge]

fate was a cruel mistress . the petrova line seemed to be cursed , and the newest descendant appeared to be no exception . were they perhaps being punished for the sin against nature their progenitor committed ? in the presence of yet another vampire who wanted her because of her blood , she was certainly tempted to believe such an idea . her brow furrowed at his words , scrambled thoughts struggling to come together coherently . ‘ do you mean klaus ? ’ she finally asked , unable to ignore the niggle of curiosity that resided in the back of her mind . was it not normal for a hostage to want an explanation ? strangely , she almost found herself wishing for the mikaelson’s company ; he did not make her nearly as uneasy as her current companion .

the more space he put between them the more her mind cleared and the more she realized just how much trouble she was in . even with that knowledge , she knew better than to try anything . she was incapable of doing anything effective in this world , always having to rely on those stronger than her . she had never thought of being anything other than human , but now she wondered vaguely how different this situation would be if she weren’t so weak . her body shifted , worn boots shuffling quietly against polished floors . her instincts told her to run , but with that heavy gaze resting on her , she felt as though she couldn’t move an inch . no one had inspired such a response in her before , leaving her to wonder again ; what was he ?

he was different from the others she’d been around , that much was clear , even to a little human like her . ‘ i can … tell . but … you’re still a vampire , right ? ’ she was hoping the answer was yes , because she doubted she’d be able to handle learning about another species in her current predicament . the light around him lit him up beautifully , and the girl had to acknowledge the irony of such beauty being bestowed upon something so malevolent . such an advantage had surely aided him during his life , while she was anything but amused by it .

was she being invited to touch him ? dark gaze observed the outstretched hand , trepidation spreading through her veins like ice water . the girl didn’t believe him for an instant , a long way from trusting any words that left his lips . still , was she in a position to disobey him ? a dainty hand reached out to his , the girl closing crossing the space between them and resting her fingers on his . ‘ you won’t hurt me , but you won’t let me go , either . is that really any better ? ’

[shuckinbeanz]

imagine bakugou’s kids just as outspoken as he is. S

they know their dad likes their teacher but he won’t say anything so one day while they are walking out the classroom to head home , they ask him , very clearly “can miss y/n be our new mommy?”, “you alredy like her”.

🤣🤣

warnings/notes: baku as a D(ad)ILF? 🥺 imean he already is a D(ude)ILF but...hhh soft dad baku thots 🥺🥺 female prns, specifically 'miss', 'mother' and 'mommy', otherwise reader is gn

~Masterlist~

MINORS 👏 DNI! 👏 AGE 👏 IN 👏 BIO 👏 OR 👏 DNI! 👏 Head on over to @candybowbeansies please for my SFW pieces, or be blocked if you interact here! 😇

Tags: @dynamightsdaydream

~~

"Daaaaaaaaad, can Miss Y/N be our new mooommmyyyyy?" comes one child a bit too loud. His cheeks flush a hue as lurid as his eyes. "Shut. It. What'd I say about that," he gripes, and the child squeals playfully and scampers off, his other kid(s) soon bounding after their sibling echoing their words enthusiastically. "Wait, get back here, ya brats!" he shouts, but they're long gone.

And just as he's about to head after them, he hears a pleasantly spine-tingling giggle behind him. He's incapable of thought as he turns to see you in all your beautiful glory.

He all but sputters, his flush reaching the tips of his ears, unable to form anything of coherency.

He didn't know it yet, but his kids have been persistantly pestering you to allow them to call you their mother for the longest time, now.

You thought it was kids just being kids. With your personality, a lot of them were attracted to you, so it was understandable. However, after a few times of being politely told no, they would eventually move on to something else-but not the kids of the Bakugou household.

And seeing his reaction to you only makes you giggle again, sweet you, as you see for yourself; the man very evidently had a crush on you, much like his own kids had insistantly and shamelessly thrown him under the bus over it.

Now, you had to admit, a small part of you had the wishful thought of the bombshell blonde actually harboring feelings for you, so you'd held onto a little notecard with your phone number on it. Something nobody else knew, and something that turned out to be a lucky charm, because here he is, loudly trying to explain what you heard only moments ago as being his kids' latest phase, trying to tell you to not mind them, kids are just kids, and whatnot.

But his gruff voice sticks low in his throat, not a word more passing his lips as you pass him the notecard with a small coy smile. He looks at it in disbelief, "Call me when you have time?" then to you at your words, gaping like a goldfish.

You debate it for a few moments that feels like hours, ultimately deciding to bravely lean in to plant a chaste kiss on his cheek. Now equally as redfaced as him, you head past him, leaving him stupified as the chorus of his kids' lengthy, dramatic 'Ooooooo's sound at the end of the hall. You can't help but huff a breathy laughter, a bashful 'Oh, kids...' coming from you as you pass them, too.

They immediately bound to their father, and you feel a slight twinge of guilt as you hear them bombard him about you.

That night, he calls you.

It becomes a habit, too, and after some time, he asks you out, and you were more than happy to accept.

[bulletsandbracelets]

Okay y’all, I need people to understand that two things can be true. Please. This isn’t a small freak out, this is not an overreaction. Joe Biden is refusing to step down despite polling that clearly shows other Democratic candidates HAVE A BETTER CHANCE OF BEATING TRUMP. Caps are for emphasis. This is not about news media sabotaging Biden. This is about Biden sabotaging us.

It isn’t that he is “too old”. He was too old in 2020, but he could speak well enough that it wasn’t a huge issue. That has changed. I said this about Trump and I will not be hypocritical about it with Biden - speaking to the public is one of the most important roles of the President. He should be regularly addressing the media, the news, fulfilling that role. He is incapable of doing this and has been for a while. It shouldn’t have taken him days to address the debate. His White House press secretary shouldn’t be addressing it for him.

I’ve been beating the project 2025 hammer as much as anyone. I will be voting Biden if I have to. But do NOT sit here and say the news is wrong for being honest and actually, FINALLY, addressing the things that the public have been talking about for a long time. Biden failed when he decided to take a second term. He should have handed his endorsement to a younger candidate. He chose not to.

There ARE other candidates. But when the incumbent refuses to step down, we don’t get a primary. We got no debates. No one else with a chance ran against him in the primary SOLELY BECAUSE THEY KNOW we cannot afford to split the party. Biden put himself in this situation and dragged us into it with him.

Do you know how exciting an actual primary could have been? Do you know how much publicity that could bring, having Democratic candidates debate healthcare and worker rights and green policy and other actual problems facing Americans that Republicans refuse to touch? Do you realize how excited people would have been to vote FOR SOMEONE instead of only against someone?!

The people who are going to vote for Biden because of Project 2025 are going to vote for any Democrat regardless of who that person is. But the people who do not follow closely enough, who only see a president unable to even address the nation coherently, are going to see someone unfit for the job. And they will not vote. People who see his age see someone whose time is past and who should be retired. They will not vote. My dad is an example - he will vote for any candidate under 65. I don’t honestly blame him, though I disagree with that thought process entirely. People are tired of politicians not moving on when it’s time. Pure ego keeps them there when they could step aside and give their resources to younger representation.

Vote for whoever we end up with. But it is okay to ask for better. It is actually incredibly important to ask for better. Do not fall into the trap of defending the things about our system that make people check out, that make people ambivalent about voting altogether because their choices don’t matter. We deserved a Democratic Primary. It’s absolutely undemocratic that we did not get one.

WE HAVE 6 MONTHS. That is more than enough time to get a new candidate out, especially one as well liked as Whitmer or similar. They need to decide NOW. And it isn’t looking like it will happen. But this conversation is necessary and important.

if i see one more article, post, or news anchor talking about how joe biden is old, i'm putting my fist through a window. i feel like i've gone through the fucking looking glass.

this is project 2025, trump's plan for what he'll do if elected. whatever you think is in there, it's worse. watch a breakdown of the highlights here. this man wants to unravel the fabric of our democracy for good - this all aside from his vitriolic hatred of poc, his determination to start ww3, and the fact that he can't string a sentence together without telling outrageous and easily verifiable lies. his administration will start their crusade to exterminate trans people on day one, and they won't stop there.

do not talk to me about how joe biden is old, as if that could ever matter to me more than my life or the lives of my friends and family. my little sister is 14, she's trans, and i don't know what to tell her when we talk about politics, because one of these people wants her dead and the other one is old and some of you are still acting like those problems are equals.

i can't fucking stand this. i'm not hearing it this time, we are not repeating 2016. refusing to vote is not an act of protest, it is an act of complacency, and our most vulnerable will suffer for your negligence. vote like your life depends on it, because for some of us, it really fucking does.

[bonky-n-steeb]

crave

dad’s bestfriend! bucky x reader

summary || you finally get a taste of the forbidden fruit.

warnings || unprotected sex. oral sex. fingering. daddy kink. praise kink. dirty talk. PWP. MINORS DNI

I have decided to not do taglists anymore, so if you wished to be notified of my newest updates please follow @bonky-n-steeb-lib and turn on the notifications!

I really really hope y’all like this ;)

“Bu.. Bucky.” You choked on your spit and at the same time your mouth went dry. Because the sight before you was absolutely atrociously gorgeous.

A freshly out of shower Bucky was wrapped up just in towel. Water droplets were running down the wide expanse of his chest and making rivulets in the hard planes of his abs and disappearing beneath the soft knot of towel.

His hair was tousled up and it looked so good that you wanted to run your hands in it. His calves were strong and well built and you could only imagine his thick thighs covered with the cloth.

His dick was big…. you just knew it.

Bucky was the guy who had moved in besides you and had soon striked up a friendship with your dad. He was helpful, amicable and irresistibly hot.

You didn’t live with your parents and hadn’t been there when he first moved in. But when you had come back home for holidays, you had been taken aback to see Bucky chatting with your family as if he was a member already.

When you had called him, ‘Mr Barnes.’ He had just chuckled and shook his head and said in his thick voice, ‘Call me Bucky, doll.’

You had thought about him calling you doll when you had touched yourself at night in your childhood bedroom. It was sinful, but you couldn’t stop yourself.

His bulging muscles that highlighted themselves in the tight T-shirts he wore didn’t help any. He lived alone so he usually ended up in your house for every occasion.

You tried not being alone with him as you didn’t trust yourself. But yesterday, when the topic had come out that your parents were going out today, Bucky had insisted you come over for a dinner with him.

Today, your parents had left early and seemingly bored, you had gone to Bucky’s place a little earlier. You had entered through the open back door and walked up to his bedroom only to see him half naked.

“Hello doll! Aren’t you a bit early?” He was relaxed as he if wasn’t the one standing in a towel. He was shamelessly showing himself off and wasn’t even trying to cover himself.

“Ye… yeah. Sorry.” You knew you should’ve turned around and walked out. You should’ve at least closed your eyes. But instead you were stuck on the stop.

He started walking closer to you and with his long legs, it didn’t take much time for him to come face to face with you. “You like what you see?”

Okay well, you hadn’t expected that. His face was so close to yours by now that your soft breaths were hitting his face. Instead of answering, you just stared at him with wide eyes and a hitched breath.

“I see the way you look at me. I know.” You didn’t know why but you felt like a criminal. “I… You,,.. I.,,.” You stuttered on your words and Bucky felt that endearing.

“Shhh. Don’t worry your pretty little head, baby doll. Let daddy take care of you.” This was it. You had died and gone to heaven. Because did Bucky actually say that?

Your panties were flooded and you were weak in your knees. Your brain was absolutely short circuiting and you were suddenly incapable of giving a coherent response. 

He placed his huge palm on your jaw and cupped your cheek. “Is that what you want? You want daddy to look after you?” His thumb was tenderly stroking your cheek, making all your thoughts vanish from your head.

Your lips were open and you were panting softly due to the close proximity. Without thinking about anything else, you nodded your head.

A smirk painted his face and he tucked his thumb into your lips. Obediently closing your lips around his digit, you sucked on it while staring at him right in his blue eyes.

He pulled out the finger from your mouth with a pop sound and smeared the saliva on your cheek. The cold air made it cool down and you gasped at the gesture.

You stood there on the spot as his tongue peeked out and licked the trail of your saliva from your cheek to your open lips and began kissing you.

His lips were surprisingly soft as he kissing you wet and hot. His hand was holding your face as he fucked into your mouth with his tongue.

He was an excellent kisser as with just one kiss you were squirming in his hold. Breaking the kiss, you hesitantly placed your hand on his chest. “Bucky..” his name left your lips without your conscious effort.

“Now that’s not what you’re supposed to call me.” He tsked you. Gulping, you finally called him what his ears were straining to hear, “Daddy!”

That was all he needed as the next second he pulled you into a scorching kiss again. His hands pawed at your body and he kneaded any softness he could lay his hands on.

It didn’t take him much time to unbutton your shirt and pull down your bra. The very next instant, he started palming your breasts and peaking your nipples with his thumb.

“You’re so beautiful baby girl. And all mine.” It felt so good for someone be possessive over you. “Yes. All yours daddy. Only yours.”

He let out a guttural growl and started frantically unzipping your pants and pulling them down. Soon you were standing in front of him in just your panties and shaking like a leaf.

You squealed when his hand cupped your core. “Fuck. You’re so wet baby doll. Is it for me? Did I do this to you?” Your pants were wet and his hand was rubbing you through so good, that you couldn’t help but moan.

“Please daddy! Please.” You whined because you need more. “I’ll give it to you doll, I’ll give you all that you need.” Shucking down your panties, he pushed you back on his soft bed. But instead of throwing your panties with the rest of your clothes, he kept it on top of a dresser.

He riled you up more by slowly undoing the knot of his towel and letting it fall down. You openly stared at his hard cock which was already weeping with precum.

It was thick and long, better than you’d imagined. You probably said that out loud because Bucky chuckled as he crawled up on you. “Yeah? You thought about me? You thought about my cock and how I’d fucking ruin you?”

His lips were sucking wet marks on your throat to your collarbone to your breasts. “Answer me baby cheeks.” He smacked your inner thigh. “Yes daddy!”

“I’ve got such a naughty girl, haven’t I?” By now he was right between your thighs. “You’ve got such a pretty pussy.” Your face heated up with his praise but you didn’t stop him.

The first lick of his hot tongue over your dripping folds made your back arch. “Fuck! You’re so sensitive doll.” His tongue flicked your swollen clit and then fucked your wet hole with it.

Your hands entwined with his long hair strands and you tugged him closer. He licked up your slick like a starved man. His lips closed around your throbbing bud and sucked and you wailed.

“Oh… oh god Bucky!” You writhed on the bed as he started fingering you while sucking on your clit. With his ministrations, it didn’t take long for you to cum.

“Squeezing my fingers so tight. Fuck!” He cursed as you convulsed around his thick fingers. He needed to relieve his throbbing dick and had started humping the mattress.

Finally feeling you were prepared enough, he kissed you and lined himself up with your cunt while you were still riding from the previous aftershocks.

“Yes yes bucky… please please please!” You whined as he rubbed his head over your pussy. “Fuck god you’re so warm and tight fuck. The best pussy I’ve ever had.” He exclaimed as he buried himself into you in a single stroke.

The stretch of his cock made you feel more full than you ever had. He pulled back almost all the way through before thrusting in again. The delicious friction made your eyes roll back.

“Your tiny pussy is gripping me so tight. Don’t want let me go, do you?” His thrusts were relentless and he shook the entire bed frame with the intensity.

You clutched his broad shoulders as he rammed into you. “You’re so naughty baby doll. Fucking your dad’s friends ain’t what good girls do. And look at you, writhing beneath me like a filthy little girl.”

“Daddy!” You screamed his name as you came harder than you ever had. Your legs were shaking as you held on to him tight.

“Fuck doll fuck!.” He grunted as he came in you. His fingers clutched your hips tight as he released his load deep inside you. Your orgasm was amplified by feeling his hot cum fill you.

You both panted as you laid down in the bed like a puddle while he gently wiped the sweat off your forehead. “Do you wanna have a pizza?”

The question put you off track and you laughed. After all this, you had forgotten the reason you were even here in the first place. “Yeah. I’ll have a pizza.”

~~~

“So, how was the dinner? I’m sure Bucky isn’t as bad as you’d thought.” Your dad asked when you entered your house. Your parents had come back earlier than you.

You felt like a deer in headlights with your parents looking at you with wide smiles while you had Bucky’s cum running down your thighs. He had even kept your panties with him. You felt heated again thinking about it.

“Yeah… yeah. The dinner was delicious.”

[kbandtrash]

SVT Feels (Hip Hop Unit)

~Rachel~

I've been possessed so. Here you go. Essentially just an aspect of what I think it would be like in a relationship with them (all fluff)

Masterlist

Not sure where to put the cut but aren't they doing it automatically now so does it matter

S.Coups

He can sleep next to you and it’s a miracle to him

And even when he can’t he just feels so peaceful and grateful that he feels well-rested

After a long day and a meal together it’s ~bed time~

Which of course involves holding hands and giggling as you run to your bedroom and shut the door behind you

Under the covers and he has his arms wrapped around you like you’re a pregnancy pillow or something

His head on your chest and he just snuggles into you

Your hand in his hair and he’s out like a light

Even though it’s not technically ”””doing something together””” it is most certainly quality relationship building time

In the morning he’s nice and warm and you can consciously enjoy being wrapped up together

And sometimes you fall asleep again

But like still

Are there any other thoughts than “I love this”

I think not

How lucky are you to love each other this fittingly

Sometimes it’s falling asleep holding hands

Sometimes it’s on your sides curled up into his chest

That’s when he plays with your hair and kisses your forehead and tells you about all of the things that happened today and how much he thought about you

It’s a low talking voice at the beginning and barely a whisper as he’s letting sleep take over

Wonwoo

Perhaps. A little too respectful

You gotta remind him sometimes like “hey you know you’re allowed to touch me if you want to”

And he just gets so embarrassed like “yeah I know”

He’s sneaky and quiet about showing affection

He’s kinda shy so he doesn’t want to draw too much attention even when it’s literally just the two of you

Sometimes you don’t even notice until he’s long gone that he did something

Like 5 minutes later oh! That was a kiss on the cheek

It almost feels to him maybe that you’re still kinda forbidden ground

And so every time he does try something it feels risky and rebellious and special

But if you make moves then he’ll totally follow your lead because then it feels like he’s been given permission

He’s also kind of afraid that if he acted on every impulse he had then he would be too much

It’s not a lack of interest at all he’s just still in the phase of not wanting to scare you away

Like you have to make every step at least five times before he’ll try it himself

And even then he’s nervous about it

He’ll get there though don’t worry

For now though you just have to catch him staring at you with a lovestruck little smile

Mingyu

Tall but small

Extra clumsy and that ends up with a lot of unintentional physical contact

He doesn’t realize you’re behind him so he almost knocks you over

And then he catches you and has to check you all over to make sure you’re okay

Extremely well meaning but awkward

He’s articulate if you give him the time to be

But on the spot he’s the human equivalent of a keyboard spam

If you look at him the right way he is rendered entirely incapable of speaking coherent words

He’s fun to tease because he takes everything seriously until he figures it out

After that he either gets sulky (to which the cure is an apology and a kiss on the forehead)

Or he gets too giggly to tease you back

Every once in a while he can come back with an oddly specific zinger

Never anything mean but like how in comics a speech bubble will stab a person

He always puts things way too low for him to be able to see later because he doesn’t want to put anything too high for you

Like babe there’s a stepstool for a reason

Puppy boy just responds no don’t strain yourself

And keeps forgetting that he’s tall

Vernon

He knows your name he really does

He just never uses it

Instead it’s babe and dude and some shortened version of your name and for some reason I think he might use doll

This is true likewise as well

He thinks he’s in trouble if you ever call him by his name

His very favorite that you call him is love

If you need him to do anything then just call him love and he is done for

That’s one you use sparingly though so it never loses its effect

You don’t quite want him to get used to

If he gets used to it then you’re scared he’ll stop physically melting whenever you say it

You call him love and you can see his mood lift

This little smile grows on his face and he turns into dough

And if he stopped doing that

Then what?

What then?

What would you do without a way to turn him into a soft shy cuddly boy on demand?

Cry probably

He has caught onto this but he’s not mad or anything

He just wants a way to do it to you too

In his quest for the soft shy cuddly gf button he has come up with an absolutely wild variety of nicknames

And it kinda works though lol

Vocal Unit

[thirstyzaunite420]

Dirty Little Animals (Silco x afab!reader) [NSFW]

Summary: After spotting you one evening in the club, Silco invites you to try Singed’s latest creation: a crystalline form of shimmer called glitter. The drug's aphrodisiac effect takes hold of you, and you take advantage of the privacy his office affords.

For the best experience, listen to Dirty Little Animals by BONES UK while reading!

Tags: afab!reader, sub!reader, dom!silco, degradation kink, praise kink, spit kink, choking, scratching, biting, orgasm denial/edging, silco saying "good girl", pierced nipples, publish-ic sex

Word count: ~6 K

CW: drug use (first and last word of details are in pink if you want to skip it)/alcohol use/not-sober sex

Downing another shot, you close your eyes as you savour the familiar burn in the back of your throat. The heavy bass of the club’s music reverberates through your body, drawing you back to the dance floor. This is the first time you’ve been back to the club in over a month, and you realize you missed this more than you thought. Plus, this place is well-known for being where to go to satisfy any craving you could possibly have.

The effects of your particular choice in shimmer variant is similar to molly and coke, the euphoria rivaling even the purest of the two drugs. However, the drug is as dangerous as it is wonderful. After only a few times it starts to lose its kick, and you're stuck taking twice the amount for half the effect. You're as careful as you can be though, planning your use and practicing lots of harm reduction for damage control. The payoff is well worth the risks in your opinion.

When you were a weekly regular at the Last Drop, you often spotted the club’s owner, Silco, gazing down at the crowded dance floor from the catwalk. A couple times you thought you caught his duo-colored eyes trained on you, but there were always so many people surrounding you, you could never be 100% sure. You glance up at the empty catwalk, feeling discouraged at the thought of not seeing him tonight. You had been working on getting in shape during your hiatus, and you rejoined the dance floor with renewed vigor.

Returning to the bar for another round of shots, you notice Silco descending the spiral staircase from the catwalk out of the corner of your eye, as if on que. Trying to pretend you don't see him you turn to face the dance floor, leaning against the bar and propping yourself up on your elbows. You tip your head back, closing your eyes in an attempt to stop the spins.

You jump slightly when you hear someone clear their throat right next to you. You bring your head back up and open your eyes to see who the noise belonged to. The sight of Silco leaning on the bar inches away from you, eyes trained on the shelves of bottles, brings a flush to your cheeks and makes it slightly harder to breathe.

“Apologies for sneaking up on you. I’ve seen you dancing from the catwalk, and when I saw you again tonight I knew I had to buy you a drink. What’s your poison?”

Questioning if you’re hallucinating or not, you can only bring yourself to point to a bottle of cheap vodka on the bottom shelf. Silco let out an unamused “hm”.

“Come on now, don’t be shy. Look on the top shelf. Do you see anything you like?” he asked, still not meeting your eyes.

Turning around fully, you had to get on your tiptoes to be able to see the uppermost shelf properly. A bottle of Facundo Neo rum caught your eye and you pointed again, still incapable of coherent speech.

“Mmm, good choice. That’s a favorite of mine as well.” he said, gesturing to the bartender and ordering two double shot rum and cokes. He places the drink next to you, his long, elegant fingers brushing against your arm. You shiver despite yourself. “What’s your name?” he asks.

You tell him, thankful your mind and body finally let you speak. “We haven’t met, but I know who you are.”

Silco chuckles, the side of his mouth quirking up in a half-smile. “I imagine you have.”

Sipping your drink perhaps a little too eagerly, you try desperately to think of something to say. Luckily Silco speaks first.

“I’ve seen you here before, and I was worried you wouldn’t come back. I hate a wasted opportunity,” he confessed, finally turning his head to meet your eyes. His face was frustratingly difficult to read, thwarting any attempt to ascertain the context of the interaction.

Finishing the last of your drink, you allow the alcohol and endorphins to soothe your nerves. “I had a similar worry. I love coming here, especially when I see you up on the catwalk. You always look so…regal,” you say, trying to keep from slurring your words.

Silco tipped his head back to down the rest of his drink, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. The image of his head tipping back in pleasure as you suck him off popped into your head.

“I noticed you using shimmer as a mixer, and I was impressed by your ingenuity. I trust the quality is to your liking?” he asked, turning to look at you once more. His eyes twitched back and forth as he studied your face.

“It’s perfect, definitely my go-to mixer. Have you ever tried it?” you inquired, matching his posture and leaning towards him slightly. The smell of old paper, tobacco and a slightly spicy scent (cloves?) drifted towards you. He shakes his head no. Standing up straight, he addresses you again.

“I have something new that hasn’t been distributed yet; it’s another form of shimmer. Would you like to come to my office and try it?” he asked casually. You could hardly believe what you were hearing.

“I would absolutely love to,” you said, smiling. He turned and walked back towards the staircase, leading you through the crowd.

~

Silco opens the door to his office and you step inside, the smell of tobacco lingering in the room from his last cigar. Closing the door behind you, he walks to his desk and opens one of the drawers, pulling out a small vial of sparkling crystals.

“Singed, my chemical engineer, came up last week. I was a fan of coke back in the day, so I was pleased to hear he had created a form of shimmer that can be crushed into a powder,” he explained, shaking out a few of the crystals onto a mirror panel. He carefully crushes the rocks with a straight razor he pulled from his vest, cutting the powder into four even lines. Finally, he pulls out a small, straw-like metal tube. A brass tip was located at one end of the tube, with elegant engravings on the silver body. You couldn’t make out what the carvings were exactly, but it was beautiful all the same. Silco places the brass tip in his nostril, inhaling a line in one fell swoop. Straightening his back, he sniffs a few more times before wiping off the tip of the device with a cloth that smelled of disinfectant and offering it to you.

You take it from his outstretched hand, the metal cool against your skin. Moving closer to the desk, you bend over to snort your line. The powder stings your sinuses as you inhale, but you don’t stop. The pain is just part of the experience. Sitting down in the chair behind you, you copy his movements again, closing your eyes as you lean back, sniffing until the burning subsides. Looking up at Silco, you blink a couple times as you feel the rush of the drug in your bloodstream.

Meeting his gaze, you saw his pupils were dilated and a pale blush had reached his cheeks, visible even under his makeup. A wide grin spread across your face and you giggled, causing Silco to smile as well, this time both corners of his mouth lifting.

“I must say, your eyes are absolutely magnetic. Especially now that the glitter has taken effect,” he complimented, walking around his desk to sit on the edge in front of you.

"Thank you," you mutter, looking away as you grow self conscious under the intensity of his gaze. Noticing this, Silco reaches down and lifts your chin, forcing you to look at him. As study his face with wide, keening eyes, he smirks. You feel him put more pressure on your chin, raising you to your feet and pulling you slightly closer. Feeling dizzy from standing too quickly (and your proximity to him), you sway and rest your hands on Silco’s thin thighs to steady yourself.

Suddenly he takes your face roughly between his hands, pulling you into a long, deep kiss. He pulls away, loosening his hold on your face slightly to give you time to push him away if you're uncomfortable. Flustered by his retreat, you take him by the back of the neck and kiss him, your lips crashing together as both of you breathe in each other's scent. As your tongues dance around each other, you sink your fingers into the softness of his hair. The drugs coursing through your system enhanced every touch, taste and smell. It was like someone stripped off the outer layer of your senses, leaving them bare and new to the world. You didn't think it was possible, but the sensations are even better than the very first time you took shimmer.

Your hand travels up to the crown of his head where his hair is longer and you pull gently, to tipping his head back and exposing his throat. You had heard a cliff-notes version of how Silco’s eye got damaged, and you knew it involved being choked. You take this into consideration as you kiss your way along his sharp jawline, sucking on his earlobe before moving down to bite at his collarbone. You feel his hands eagerly exploring the curves of your body, taking stock of how many articles of clothing he’ll need to remove to get to you. You thanked your past self for choosing not to wear a bra today, so only a thin shirt, a pair of jeans and your black, lace-lined panties separated you from him. You feel his fingertips slide underneath the hem of your shirt and you decide to strip it off completely, throwing it to some unknown corner of the room. Your bare tits bounced slightly with the movement, and you saw a fresh wave of lust cross the older man's face at the sight of your pierced nipples. He knows this is going to be fun.

He slides off the desk and moves his hand down to your ass, slapping it as he tries to pull you up. You jump and he catches you, and you wrap your legs around his waist. Still feverishly kissing and biting each other, he carries you over to the couch that’s pushed against the wall. He lowers you so you’re laying on your back, your legs still wrapped around him. You attempt to flip the two of you around so you’re on top and in control, but he forces your hips down. He pulls away from the kiss momentarily to look at you intently.

“May I continue?” he asks, studying your face.

“Yes,” you reply breathlessly, leaning forward to kiss him again. Grasping at his hips, you try desperately to pull him closer to you. You’re flattered to find he’s already half-hard just from kissing you.

Before you can react he has you sitting on his lap, taking one of your nipples into his mouth and swirling his tongue. Though incredibly distracting, this allows you time to unbutton his vest and shirt, exposing his bare chest and abdomen. Too impatient to strip off the layers completely, you grasp at his chest. You find his skin is warm and surprisingly soft as you dig your nails into his skin when he bites you again. You feel his large hands knit through your hair, using your own move against you and yanking your head back to reveal the soft, sensitive skin of your neck. Your breath hitches as he alternates soft kisses with sharp nips, occasionally stopping to leave hickies around your throat.

Silco’s hands are on every part of you, leaving chills in their wake. He digs his fingernails into your skin when you catch his bottom lip between your teeth. After stopping to feel the softness of your breasts, rolling your nipples between his thumb and index finger, his hands travel down your body. You feel his fingers slip under the waist of your jeans before smacking your ass, hard. With each sensation your breathing quickened, whimpers slipping out without your permission.

“Tell me how you want it,” Silco said, his voice raspier than usual.

“I want you to use me like the slutty fuck doll I am,” you reply, struggling (and failing) to keep your voice stable as you look at him. A devilish grin spread across the older man’s face. He grips your hair again, tighter this time. Pulling back sharply, he distances you from himself and you find your gaze gravitate to his more expressive cyan eye.

“Open,” he demands, pulling at your chin to open your mouth. As soon as your teeth are parted, he forces his slender fingers into your mouth. His skin tastes sweet, and you hungrily suck on his fingers. Plunging his fingers deeper down your throat, you open wider to try to accommodate for the size of his hand. You try in vain not to gag, your throat constricting around his fingers as you try to suppress the noise. He brings his fingers back out of your mouth and inspects them, a thin line of drool connecting your mouth with his fingers.

"Smack me," you urge, desperate for more sensation.

Smirking, he grabs you by the throat and slaps your cheek with a crisp smack. Not too hard, but hard enough to sting. You can’t help the whine that escapes your throat. He smirks once more as he begins to undo his belt and buttons, pushing your head down with his other hand. Sliding off his lap, you kiss your way down the length of his body as you sink to your knees.

“Be a good little whore and wrap those pretty lips around my cock,” He commanded, pulling forth his erection. You’re slightly intimidated by his size, but you take his cock by the base as you begin to slowly swirl your tongue before taking the tip into your mouth, applying a tiny bit of suction.

Silco inhales sharply at the contact, and you think for a second you might actually make him moan. No such luck though as the man is rarely vocal, especially with so little effort. Steeling yourself, you take his cock fully in your mouth, opening your mouth as wide as possible and pushing it as deeply as you dared. Silco gasps again, whispering an airy "fuck" under his breath. You bob your head a few times, his dick pressing against the back of your throat. The size of him causes you to gag, and you retract your head with a gasp. Drool drips down your chin as you look up at him.

Silco stands and you open your mouth again, still kneeling in front of him. Holding you by the back of the head he steadies you, pushing his cock deeper as he throat fucks you. Your eyes water as you gag again on his impressive length, causing the man to smile down at you.

“You’re so beautiful choking on my cock like that. Such a good girl.” he said between gasping breaths, his voice husky. Pulling his hips toward you, you hold him still as you force his cock as deep as you can, pulling away just after the smallest whimper left his lips. He grabs you by the throat once again, pulling you up into a feverish kiss. You reach down and grasp his cock, using your thumb to spread the drop of precum that had leaked out around the tip. He hums in appreciation, feverishly fumbling with your pants button and zipper. Once they are properly taken care of, he pulls down your pants forcefully, almost ripping them. Steadying yourself with your hands on his shoulders, you kick them off the rest of the way.

Silco's large hands grip your waist, steering you towards the couch and pushing you onto the soft cushions. Taking your place on the floor he pulls your hips towards him, raising your legs to put them on his shoulders. He begins sucking and biting at the sensitive skin on the inside of your thighs and you squirm. Breathing hard, you watch as he gets closer and closer to your cunt. Finally reaching the center of your pelvis, Silco makes eye contact as he takes the hem of your underwear in his jagged teeth and pulls them down before tossing them away. Moving your legs from his shoulders, he reaches up to grasp the back of your neck. Raising his other hand to your face, you instinctively take his fingers into your mouth.

“Such a good little whore, opening your mouth for me without being asked,” he said, the perfect mix of praise and degradation feeding the fire in your belly. Sitting back on his heels he slowly trails his still-wet fingers down your body, finally reaching your cunt. He passes a few feather-light touches over your clit and you squirm, desperate for more.

Suddenly his fingers are inside you, giving you no time to prepare. It was a welcome surprise though, and you can’t help the high pitched gasp that escapes your lips. His hand stills momentarily as he kisses you roughly again. Holding your bottom lip between his teeth, he begins quickly thrusting his fingers in and out of you. You moan desperately into his mouth when his fingers curl to put friction on your g-spot.

Just as quickly as his fingers enter they withdraw, wrapping his other hand around your throat. He tapped your chin twice and you eagerly take his fingers into your mouth again, sucking on them. You love the way you can taste yourself on him.

"You look so beautiful with my fingers down your throat," he praised, pulling his hand away and smacking you again, harder this time. A quiet, breathy "please" escapes your lips.

He holds you there, sliding his hand up your throat to your jaw, turning your head so he can look at you. Your hair is wild, and your makeup is streaked down your cheeks from when your eyes watered when he was throat fucking you.

"Beautiful," he says again, raising you to your feet with his hand cupping your jaw. Seeing an opportunity, you distract him with a kiss as you grab him by the hips and steer him back towards the desk. Caught off guard by the sudden change in location, he pulls away from the kiss. You try to kiss him again, but he catches your face with one strong hand.

"Wait," he said, staring deep into your eyes. "Are you going to finish your line like a good little glitter whore?"

You nodded enthusiastically, taking the metal tube from his outstretched palm once again. Bending with your back arched and ass out, you inhale your line. You don't feel the burn as much this time, your nose having adjusted to the sensation. You groan in pleasure as you take in the euphoric sensation washing over your body. Eyes still closed, you hear fabric hit the floor as Silco shrugs off his shirt and vest. You hand over the device and Silco takes in his line, sighing with content.

"Now then," he said, placing the tube down on the desk, "where were we?"

You open your eyes just in time to catch his smug expression as he lunged for your throat. Surprised once again, you instinctively grab his wrist. Immediately he removes his hand and backs away from you slightly, studying your face in concern. Before he has a chance to say anything, you pull his hand back to wrap around your neck.

"My neck feels too bare without your hand," you complain, gazing up at him with your best fuck-me eyes. He smiles, pulling you in to kiss you again.

Feeling your heartbeat throughout your entire body, you do nothing to try to stifle your whimpers as Silco’s hands grasp at your skin. You reach your left hand up to touch his face, but he catches you by the wrist and pins your arm over your head.

He moves your free hand in the direction of his hips. You graze the sensitive skin of his abdomen with your nails, traveling down to his cock, the head of which was pinned up by his boxers. Pulling them down just enough to reveal the rest of his length you took him by the base, but didn't start moving your hand yet.

Bowing your head slightly, you let a large, gooey drop of spit descend from your lips, landing on the tip of his cock. Slowly you begin to move your hand, allowing your saliva to act as lubricant. His breath quickens, and you smile against his mouth.

He releases your arm and rests his hands on your hips, pushing you back so you're half-sitting on the desk. Taking you by the hair again, he pulls your head away from him.

"Tongue out," he orders, tapping on your chin. You open your mouth and stick out your tongue, locking eyes with Silco as he looks down at you. He spits in your mouth before pulls you into a deep kiss. His spit tastes sweet, and you can't help but moan a little.

Breaking the kiss, he pushes you again so you're laying on your back on the desk. Your arms flail a bit, knocking off a small stack of books and his ashtray as you struggle to prop yourself up on your elbows. If he was upset by the spill he didn't show it, focusing on kissing his way down your body and nipping at you intermittently. The kisses tickled slightly, and you couldn't help but shiver. Sinking to his knees in front of the desk, he digs his nails into your tender inner thighs as he spreads your legs further apart.

Locking eyes with you, he shifts forward and slowly moves the tip of his tongue in between your folds. You could feel the heat of his breath as he teased you, barely making contact before retracting his tongue and beginning again. He did this a few times and you squirmed, trying desperately for more sensation. Suddenly he spreads your lips with the flat of his tongue before latching onto your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue around the engorged button.

You cry out, not expecting such a sudden increase in contact. You buck your hips, but Silco places a large hand between your hip bones, holding you down. He releases the suction of his lips on your clit and buries his face and tongue in your pussy. You moan loudly, leaning back fully so you can tangle your hands in his soft, graying hair.

"Oh, FUCK!" you exclaim, feeling the knot in your belly grow tighter. You want to hold his head between your thighs, but he's still pushing your legs apart. "Fuck I'm so close, don't stop!"

As soon as the words leave your lips he pulls away, leaving you teetering on the edge of orgasm and whining in frustration. He stands up, towering over you. Your whines are cut off by his hand wrapping around your throat again as he pulls you up into a kiss, his other hand placed on the small of your back pulling you close. Still intertwined, he walks the two of you over to the window.

Holding you by the nape of your neck, he kisses his way up from your shoulder to your neck. His breath tickles your ear as he bites your earlobe.

"I want everyone to see me fucking you like the dirty little cum slut you are," he growls in your ear. Your breath hitches in your throat as he leaves another hickey on your neck, and you tip your head back to expose more of your skin.

In the blink of an eye Silco spins you around, your hands pressing against the glass to steady yourself. He pulls your hips sharply towards him, bending you over slightly. He kicks your feet apart, and you feel one of his hands return to the small of your back. You can feel his stiff cock pressed against your ass as he leans forward.

"I want to hear you beg," he states in a low tone. He bites your shoulder hard, causing you to suck in air through your bared teeth.

"Please please fuck me, I need your thick cock buried deep in my pussy, I'm so wet for you please PLEASE fuck m-" your sentence cut short as you cry out from the sudden sensation of him entering you. At the same time he pulls your head back, causing you to arch your back even more.

"Good girl," he purrs, slowly pushing into you inch by inch, allowing your body time to adjust. You knew how big he was by how much you struggled to fit your mouth around his cock, but it was entirely different when he was inside you. Biting your lip, you relish the exquisite stretch, gasping slightly with each push.

Releasing your hair, you finally feel his hips pressed against your ass, pausing after burying himself in you fully. Your breathing is ragged as you try not to shake. Placing one hand on your shoulder and the other on your hip, he slowly starts thrusting in and out of you. You moan loudly, not bothering to even try to muffle the noise.

His pace quickens, pounding into you again and again. The moans are flowing out of you like water, and you hear him swear under his breath again. He continues to fuck you hard, dragging his sharp fingernails down the length of your back. You silently hoped it drew blood so you could be reminded of him every time your back stung. Your moan is more high pitched this time, the pain causing your vocal cords to constrict.

You shift to release one of your hands, placing your forearm over your head against the window. You try to reach down to rub your clit but Silco’s movements are faster, catching your wrist and bending your arm behind you.

"Not so fast. No touching until I give you permission," he growled in an assertive tone.

"Y-yes s-sir," you squeak, his thrusts forcing the words out in pieces. He continues, mixing smooth, long strokes with sharp thrusts, his dick filling you completely. "Fuck, please I'm so close, fuck me harder," you plead.

Doing the exact opposite he pulls all the way out of you swiftly, leaving you empty and whimpering once again. He turns you around to look at him.

"Do you think asking nicely is going to get you what you want?" he asks, voice low. You nod, trying desperately to pull him closer to you. He resists, and there's something almost animalistic in the way he stares down at you. "On any other day it might, but tonight you need to wait. Understood?"

You nod fervently, transfixed by his blue eye's gaze piercing through you like an icicle. His pupils are still dilated from the glitter, and you imagine yours are too. He smirks, kissing you deeply again. You feel his hands make their way down your back, stopping to squeeze your ass before lifting you up again as though you weighed nothing. Lips still locked with yours he carries you over to the couch again, sitting with you on his lap.

"Ride me," he says, a hungry look in his eyes. You shift to rest your knees on either side of him, raising yourself as you line up his dick with your dripping hole.

You slowly sink down with a breathy exhale, coming to rest with him buried deep inside you. Silco is breathing hard, letting out a quiet groan as you descend. You slowly roll your hips, partially to make sure you have good leverage and partially to see what his reaction will be. You're not sure what it is about that particular movement, but you're almost always rewarded with a moan when you fuck someone in this position.

Your tried and true method works once again, pulling a low moan from the man as his blue eye rolls back in his head. You grin as you thread your fingers through his hair and start riding him, bouncing on your knees.

"Shit!" Silco hissed, digging his nails into your hips. The heavenly pain causes you to gasp and you lean forward, kissing him with your hand still in his hair. The shift allows you to keep your upper body still as you use your back muscles to bounce your hips. Increasing the speed, you felt him moan into your mouth again.

Changing positions, Silco takes you in his arms and turns you so you're laying on your back. Kneeling on the couch with one foot on the floor, Silco raises your legs to his shoulders and slides a pillow under your back so your hips are slightly higher than your head. He tips his cock down slightly with his hand, finally penetrating you once again. The force and feeling causes you to cry out as he immediately begins jackhammering in and out of you.

As the knot in your belly grows tighter by the second, you can tell this is going to be the position that sends you over the edge. You let out a whimpering moan, clawing at the couch. You lock eyes with Silco again and he can tell you're close, and you pray he'll finally allow you release. Continuing to pound into you, you feel his grip on your legs tighten. You want to beg him to let you cum, but you're completely incoherent at this point so you don't even try.

"Cum for me darling," he gasps in between thrusts. His cheeks are flushed and his brow furrowed, tousled strands of dark hair framing his face.

Making eye contact you start to rub your clit, and it only takes a few seconds for you to climax. In pure ecstasy you scream out his name, gripping the sofa so tightly one of your nails punctures the fabric. The rhythmic contraction of your walls combined with the sight and sound of your orgasm causes him to moan, much louder than before. He slows his pace as you ride out the waves of your orgasm, but he doesn't stop. Once your breathing slows, he picks up the pace again. Silco always makes sure to leave his partner with no less than three orgasms.

With the same rhythm as before he pounds into you, the overstimulation almost too much to handle.

"Again," he demands, panting. You start rubbing your clit again, gentler this time as you’re still sensitive. Your second orgasm comes slower, but when it does it's even more intense than the first. Your eyes roll back as you release a deep, guttural moan. You hear Silco whisper "yes" as you cum again, this time stopping with his cock buried deep inside you.

"Gods, you're beautiful," he tells you, moving your legs off of his shoulders so he can kiss you. You smile against him, eyes fluttering open as he breaks the kiss.

"Be a good girl and bend over, ass up," he tells you, backing up a bit to let you move. Head spinning, you obediently flip over and lean over the arm of the couch, spread your cheeks for him. "Mm, beautiful," he repeats.

You feel the tip of his cock teasing your clit, and you try fruitlessly to rock back into him.

"Greedy little cock slut aren't you?" You hear him say behind you. "Are you sure you can handle it?" He asks. You nod feverishly, deciding to attempt to speak.

"Yes s-sir, please fuck m-ah!" Your last word morphing into a cry as he plunges inside you, smacking your bare ass and leaving a handprint. Wary of overstimulating you to the point of it being unenjoyable, he rolls his hips slowly, his cock sliding in and out of your wet cunt. Your uncontrollable moans match the timing of his thrusts, gradually increasing his speed until he's pounding you again.

"FUCK fuck fuck fuck please please, HARDER," you whine, reaching down to find your clit again. His hand beats you to it though, his warm fingers rubbing in small circles. You feel tears welling in your eyes as you continue to beg in between long, gasping moans. You're crying not out of pain, but out of sheer bliss.

You try to say his name again as you cum a third time, but all that comes out is a hiss followed by a crying scream. He continues pounding you as the tears flow down your cheeks, breath heaving.

"Gods, oh FUCK!" Silco moans, clawing at your back as he reaches his climax, releasing inside you with a final push.

Panting, he stabilizes himself with his arm on the back of the couch. Sliding out of you with a groan, Silco collapses back onto the couch, still breathing hard. After closing his eyes for a moment he stands, pulling his boxers back up and buttoning his pants while you catch your breath. He hands you a soft rag to clean yourself off with while he busies himself with finding his cigar box. Rolling so you're on your back, you do your best to wipe the tears, drool and sweat off your face, as well as soaking up the small pool of cum that has dripped out of you. As he sits back down, Silco watches you from the corner of his good eye. He clips the end of a cigar and lights it, using his unoccupied hand to smooth back the loose, damp strands of hair from his forehead.

He's so beautiful, you think, watching as he takes a long drag from the cigar, head tipped back and bare chest swelling as the smoke fills his lungs. He exhales, blowing a ring of smoke towards the ceiling. He passes you the cigar, and your hand shakes as you reach for it. You can only imagine what would happen if you actually tried to stand.

"That was fantastic love," he hums, head lolling to the side as he watches you suck on the cigar. You let the smoke flow out of your mouth and suck it back in through your nose. You return the cigar.

"No one has ever been able to make me cum like that," you confess, meeting his gaze. His blue eye was half closed, the fatigue of the activity setting in. He raised his eyebrow.

"Is that so?" He challenges. You nod. "Well then, I ought to tell you, no one has ever been able to make me moan like that." A pale blush blooms on his cheeks and you smile, blushing as well.

“I’m sure it was just the glitter,” you say quietly as you look away, doubting the truth of the man’s statement. Silco shook his head.

"No darling, it was you,” he confirmed, placing his hand on your cheek. You raise your eyes to look at him. His expression is soft, almost tender as he looks into your eyes. “I would very much like to break this record we've just set, if you'll have me," he commented nonchalantly, retracting his hand from your face. Your smile broadens as the possibilities run through your mind.

"That can be arranged," you reply, smirking. You do your best to match his tone, but you can't keep the excitement from your eyes. Silco smiles back at you.

"For now though, um, can you help me find my clothes?" You ask, standing up. Looking around the room, you spot your pants on the floor, but the other 2 articles of clothing are nowhere to be seen. Still sitting, Silco takes your hand in his.

"What's your hurry?" He asks, still smiling softly. "Stay with me for a while."

[secretgcrdens]

"If I'm not too hard to love, why do you push me away at every turn? Why does Amos do the same?" Kit's voice was so pained it was barely coherent, "Tell me. Please be brave enough for both of us — admit that it is not your concern over hurting me that's holding you back, that it's my incapability to be loved." He shook his head, "Your heart isn't rotten, Thayer. It can be healed and whole if you'd let someone in." He knew Thayer well enough to predict that he'd disagree. "And, even if it were rotten — that wouldn't change the way I feel about you or the way that I see you." Kit hated himself for loving too hard, and for not being deserving enough to be loved in return.

A painful thought crossed his mind. Did Thayer hate returning to Kit? Was every move towards him agonizing for Thayer? Was Kit a bad drug, an addiction Thayer wanted to quit because it made him ill, made him miserable?

Thayer's touch on Kit's skin used to only ignite pure euphoria, but now it also carried with it a trace of something Kit could cowered from — fear that he was walking on glass and at any moment, it'd break and he'd be abandoned. Yet, even through his terror and tears he couldn't turn away from Thayer's sweet touch, he still melted into it.

The words he'd whispered to Thayer that day still echoed in his mind, "This heart is yours to keep, yours to love or to hurt - whichever you so chose." A vow that had beguiled Kit, made him believe in something that would never be real. He was now convinced it'd been a ruse, something Thayer had done simply because Kit was there. Was that sacred vow — the promise of forever in each other's arms just a rose with thorns that unexpectedly wounded you while it was waited to wither?

"We could be made for more, Thayer. Our love doesn't have to exist within the confines of war." His heart nearly gave out — nearly died. "If we were not meant to make it here, why did you promise me forever? Why did you make such a sacred vow? Knowing you didn't truly want it, knowing it would end before it even began?" he cried, "Why would you let me hold onto hope for this long, Thayer?" Kit knew they'd burned bridges, they'd fought — and loved — during the toughest nights of war, but he had begged the author of his prophecy to let them make it out alive. To let them heal together and never fight again — without the pain of war, they wouldn't have a need to get their fears and frustrations out on one another. They could be happy together. Forever. As Thayer had promised — before ripping that very promise away.

He watched as Thayer ran his hand over his scar. The scar that Kit would blame himself for every day until his dying breath. Trembling, crying, dying in front of Thayer he spoke shakily, "Thayer, I promise. I promise I tried. I hesitated when they came for you — I had no idea what to do and because I hesitated, you nearly died." Kit fidgeted with his fingers, his voice low, "I'm so sorry, Thayer. I'm sorry for letting it happen." He willed himself to look back up at the man who he'd once devoted his life to, "Once I realized what was happening, I tried coming after you but they held me back. I would have died for you, Thayer. I begged them to take me in your place. They wouldn't!" He deserved Thayer's anger, so he let himself take every hit.

As he was enveloped in Thayer's arms, the strong arms that Kit had once thought he belonged in, he eased into the hug. He wrapped his arms around Thayer, holding on for dear life as if they were a sinking ship.

Every time Kit thought Thayer had dealt the final blow, that he'd endured the worst — he was wrong. Now Thayer was leading him on again — letting him believe in a fairytale. He'd believed they could make it in London, away from war, until he watched Thayer show his true color and give himself away to everyone but Kit. To let anyone in but Kit. Abandoned Kit and made him feel unloved, unworthy. "Please don't be cruel, Thayer," he pleaded, despite being in his arms, he didn't feel safe, "Please don't do this to me. Don't act like you want to court me when you're courting so many others. It kills me a little more each day." Despite his better judgement, he nestled his head in the crook of Thayer's neck. "You know I can't lay it to rest," his tears fell again, "That's why you keep me around. Just in case you can't find it with anyone else, but you will, Thayer, you will."

Pulling back to look at Thayer, his lower lip quivering, "You know I'll say yes."

"It's not borne from guilt, Thayer Claremont," he spoke, more steady now, "I love you because of the man you were, the man you are, and the man you'll be. I am ardently yours and I have been since we met. Nothing you can do would change that." Placing a hand on Thayer's cheek, Kit looked in his eyes — his own, tear-filled, "I got scared that night, but I came after you. Please, please believe me."

"You are not hard to love, Kit. It is too easy to break my heart to repair what corruption I have committed to yours. It is rotten and I still hope it is better than what I have given you— but is it any different? Is the rot or the decay worse?"

He feels himself take the very same steps back that he dreads— but they lead him closer to Kit, farther from the door behind him. Even weeping, he still burned his touch. He was too bright for his own good and Thayer felt himself breathe with relief to know he had not ruined that. So much he had done to him, but at the very least he had not taken this away.

Purpose.

Thayer still remembers that promise despite how he'd sworn it died that day. He remembered shaking him Kit's arms when he told him there was a day to look to at the end of it all, that no matter what happened they were to be entangled evermore. He never expected them to become a noose.

"We were made for war, it was never a matter of if but rather when. Don't you remember?" He asked, misery laced in the undertone. "We were suppose to die for this love and I did. It is not me pushing you away, I am telling you the truth so that you remember who you keep trying to run to! Who you swear you love and it is not a man much better than the one you knew. We were so cruel to one another, we were never meant to make it here and you knew that. You made it so, Kit! You made it so!"

He takes his hand, wraps his fingers around his throat where the scar remains blushed. The phantoms that pick and prod at it, threaten to tear it open, are quiet now under his touch. He is numb under this old wound because nothing compares to the cut that is the man before him.

"You stood still that day, and I have not yet forgotten it. I cannot. You knew, and you saw it, and you did nothing," Thayer spat, teeth clenched until he can taste the threat of blood. It is a coating on his tongue he should know well in Kit's company and for the first time it feels wrong even in memory. To look at him now, so clearly compared to the one that still haunts him, challenges each to fallacy.

And Thayer still reaches for him, steps farther and farther away from he thinks he must be— what he believes will change him for the better— and catches Kit in his arms. He clutches his jacket in his fists, drags him too close for comfort but it is what he needs.

"It was never a choice then, to return to London, to make such declarations in the open. Could we survive it, could we live and love without living each day like it is our last— to not love like we are saying goodbye?" Thayer asks him, his throat aching with each word he forces himself to speak after all this time. He had swallowed them whole each time he finds Kit again. His fingers laced with Kit's around his neck. "Please do not leave me the way you left me all those years ago. I beg of you. Can we try and see if we were meant for this passage, if only to lay it to rest once and for all?"

The ache remains, the question still hanging between them. The sting returns. How many times has he tried to bury it because to soothe it is an impossibility? It swells at the corner of his eyes, threatens to pull his gaze away but he does not dare take it from him now. He must know, he must.

"This love you harbor, are you certain it is not borne of guilt? Why did you do nothing that day, Kit— did you hate me as much as they did to let it happen?"

[lilithdusk]

Marinette thirsting over her very platonic (and certainly not attractive) teammate

Wrote this while listening to fuck up the friendship by Leah Kate = right mood

Marinette didn’t know how and why it started but she definitely remembered when. They were fighting against another villain Shadow Moth has created and he was particularly unpredictable. It has been at least one hour since the fight begun and Ladybug started to lose her patience. She was supposed to study for an exam and desperately needed to pass if she wanted to graduate from high school. How was she supposed to become a famous designer if she was still in school ? One thought to another, she missed a strike from her opponent; fortunately, Chat Noir was here to pick her and take her farther. As usually, she put her hands around his neck. Yet, for a complete unusual reason, this time she noticed the way his shoulder and back flexed when he was carrying her. Needless to say, Ladybug has some trouble to focus for the rest of the fight.

The second time it happened, Chat Noir and she were answering some questions after another fight. Some journalists and civilians were telling them how much they were grateful to have them; she truly appreciated those moments, she always returned home motivated. Secretly, she loved seeing Chat Noir’s smile, shy and thankful. To this day, she persuaded herself that she was simply happy about her friend getting the recognition he deserved... That was until she actually felt her cheeks reddened after he flashed her a bright white smile. Her heartbeat speeded up, her voice caught up in her throat, incapable to answer a new question. This night, she couldn’t fall asleep, cringing as she thought about what happened over and over until her alarm rung at 7AM.

The third time, she thought about giving up her miraculous if that meant taking a break from his stupid attractiveness. Marinette had thought about every possibility, avoiding touches from him as much as possible; something he didn’t mind since he told her he dated someone. An information stinging in her chest that she quickly pushed away. Even if she actually admitted she got a crush on him, Marinette was pretty sure it was her hormones getting in the way. That was some physical attraction because he was the only person she was close to right now (if she forgot about that boy who asked her on a date three days ago and that girl she talked to at the beginning of the year and saw for a few weeks). Marinette was now confident enough to meet her teammate without having to avoid his gaze. She was comfortable the entire time as they patrolled around Paris and shared a few laughs from time to time. When they were ready to call it a night, Chat Noir noticed a kid crying in the busy street. Ladybug took care of finding his mother and Paris’ heroes waited for her to come back for his son. Chat Noir was a sweetheart the whole time, cheering the lost boy and telling puns. Imagine Marinette’s astonishment when the first thought crossing her mind from observing the kid hugging her partner was “I want to have children with this man.” Ladybug couldn’t speak to him coherently for a whole month after that incident.

As Marinette, she didn’t have the chance to meet him yet. For the better, she thought. She was letting herself be as clumsy and shy as her civilian self these past months. She couldn’t make a fool of herself in front of Chat Noir twice. Thus, she actually considered the option about going back inside, shut her window and fall asleep, as she has planned. Yet, the sight of her lonely kitty jumping from rooftop to another made her waved at him. The smile he gave her once he landed on her balcony made her heart throb about even thinking of ignoring him earlier. Surprisingly, the evening went without any incident. She didn’t trip, nor spill the hot chocolat she offered him. Sure, she stuttered from time to time and couldn’t bear to hold his gaze more than five seconds but nothing crazy happened. She even learnt about his now ex-girlfriend and why he broke up. Marinette quickly pushed away the relief she felt growing in her chest, already feeling bad about even enjoying that news. Collecting her thoughts, she didn’t notice the way his gaze lingered on her when he told her the reason of their break-up.

Later, Chat Noir was re-acting the fight they had earlier that day. He showed her some moves with a smug smile and an over-confident behaviour that hurt her cheeks from laughing too much. 

“Aren’t they some confident informations though ?” She joked.

“Confident informations ? Do you think anyone can replicate my moves the way I do ?” He teased.

“Nobody can imitate you, that’s for sure.” She smiled.

“Hey, what does that supposed to mean ?”

The night continued in the same mood, the both of them enjoying each other’s presence until Marinette heard her dad calling for her. Immediately, Chat Noir got up and took his stick out of his belt.

“Wouldn’t want to trouble Mister Dupain-Cheng for having an adventure with his daughter.” He joked.

Before, Marinette would have laughed, moved on and told him goodnight. This time, however, memories flowed back to her mind and, if she didn’t feel someone eyeing her, she would slap herself about the way she acted four years ago. Laughing about having a crush on Chat Noir... Surely, someone has planned this and laughed at her now. That is why she didn’t realize she was speaking once her voice died in her throat.

“Would that be terrible ?”

“Huh ?”

What the fuck.

“What ?”

“What did you say ?” He asked, his eyes wide-opened.

“What ?” She repeated.

Surely, if she acted dumb, he would give up, leave and Marinette would never have to face him again because she will forever stay in her room.

“What did you just say ?” He wondered.

“What ?”

No, Marinette didn’t need to act dumb because she was a complete dumbass. She was on automatic mode, needless to say she didn’t control the words leaving her mouth. The safe way to handle this situation, as she learned years ago with Adrien, was to either waiting for Alya to show up or eclipse herself. The first option was definitely out of reach, leading Marinette to back face her teammate and walking to her trapdoor.

“Marinette !”

No way she had the courage to even tell him goodnight. Chat Noir was a very empathetic person, he would totally understand her and won’t ask her again about she has just said. The moment her hand touched the trapdoor, another hand laid on hers. Instinctively, she raised her head and found her partner’s eyes way too close to her face. Now, Marinette was sure about something else : she could predict his actions the same way she could trust herself to not be a mess around him.

“Did I imagine what you said ?”

“I... Hum...”

He wasn’t pressing her into confessing, patiently waiting, looking at her with gentle eyes. If Marinette hasn’t fallen for those, she would have embrace herself in his, safely telling him the whole truth. Screw those secrets identities, she just wanted to be with him.

“No.” She whispered.

It was the only boost of confidence she needed to admit what just happened. She was done with avoiding him and persuading herself that it was just ephemeral. It wasn’t, it lasted for years now. How much time would she have to wait to live the way she wanted ? There’ll always be akumas, another Shadow Moth, another villain to fight.

“Would that really be terrible ?”

These past years, Chat Noir and she have spent countless nights on her balcony, sharing thoughts and secrets -nothing concerning their secrets identities though. She liked to believe they grew close to the point of calling him her best friend, as Marinette, was natural; she hoped the feeling was mutual.

“Mari...” He muttered.

How could she have lied to herself ? A few inches away from his face, she could feel his breath falling on her cheeks, his eyes trying to read her, his lips sightly part-opened and most importantly, she never realized how much she wanted to rip off his mask. His gaze fell on her lips and Marinette has to collect all of her thoughts to not physically melt. Her eyes followed quickly after, dropping on his mouth. Images flashed before her eyes, reminiscence of the kiss they shared on Valentine’s day, four years ago. As much as Marinette had persuaded herself over the years that that kiss was strictly professional; she actually wondered if his lips were still as soft.

“Am I the only one who’s feeling that ?” She asked confidently, pressing his hand.

Chat Noir’s cheeks reddened and he had to collect himself before being able to look at her. Marinette had never seen him being overwhelmed and shy. Sure, he was still capable to stay close to her but the way his voice shivered made her lose any coherent thoughts remaining.

“I... I didn’t know you were feeling the same way.”

Gosh, Marinette was feeling dizzy about the possibilities overwhelming her mind and body. She leaned closer, leaving Chat Noir with wide opened eyes.

“Kitty, you have no idea how much I want that.”

She proudly witnessed the moment Chat Noir lose every reminiscence of shyness, gulping hard, and reciprocated the closeness. His free hand travelled to her waist, pressing firmly and gently her skin. Both of them appreciated the last seconds of their past relationship, before completely turning what they built upside down.

Yet, once their lips touched, they were incapable of breaking out. A lot of thoughts could have stopped Marinette right away like the fact that they were making out on top of her glass trapdoor, that they could be caught by anyone or simply, kissing her partner was probably a bad idea on long term. Only, Marinette was utterly struck by his embrace and lips, his scent keeping logic out of her sight. For now, she was enjoying his closeness.