#<- that will be the tag for any posts surrounding this topic

[hotnbloodied]

Hi there could I request a yandere rich boy x gn reader can it also be a smut if you are comfortable.

Fun fact, this will be the first time I've written smut for this blog. I'm not too skilled at it I'll admit so I hope that what I wrote will be good enough for you my dear~

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚HB˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Yan!Rich Boy X Reader (!!SMUT!!)

!Warning! This post contains yandere themes and topics that may be uncomfortable to people who are sensitive to the topic, read at your own discretion.

CW: not proof read, yous/yours used, gn reader, there is SEX, sloppy lewd writing, alcohol, drunk sex, yandere is pretty tame since there is smut. (LMK if I'm missing anything.)

!!READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!! MINORS DNI!!

You were a business major at a prestigious college, you worked your butt off trying to get as many grants as possible. Even then, you still needed to seek out loans to help you in your class payments. Luckily you knew that if you wanted to take this path you needed to sacrifice a lot to the grind. A loud laughter broke you out of your thoughts, who the fuck is making so much noise in the library? You look over and see him, the ringleader surrounded by all his goonies, making you grimace. Derek, one of the top nepo babies at the college; his parents being owners of big trading companies. Rumors say that last week he couldn’t decide on either to get a Ferrari or a Lamborghini so he got both.

Laughter rang through the library again, why were they doing this here? There are literal private rooms they could rent if they really wanted a hang out place. Since you were a commuting student you didn’t have a place like a dorm to study in between classes that’s why you had to use the library. You couldn’t sit back and not say anything anymore so you walked up to the small group. “Hey, I’m sorry to be asking this,” why should you be the one that’s sorry you thought, but whatever, “I’m just trying to study and you guys are being just a little loud.” You look at each of their faces finally landing on Derek last looking at him in the eyes. His eyes widen and a cheeky smile spreads on his features again, “sure, if I can have your number.” You laugh slightly because you thought he was joking but he doesn’t laugh along with you so you gulp and take out your phone. After the exchange he leads his friends out of the library with him.

The next day after your classes you were in the library studying again. You noticed that someone sat down beside you and came face to face with Derek. “Hi,” he says with a smirk, “what are you doing?” You looked at him, confused, “I’m studying.” “Is it fun?” You scoff, “no, I wouldn’t say it’s much fun. But I can’t let my GPA drop so I gotta do it.” Your stomach growls, loud enough to be heard making you blush. Derek laughs at you, “come on, a bookworm still needs to eat right?” You were confused but packed up your things and followed him out to the parking lot where he pressed his keys and the lights to a Bentley lit up. What about the Ferrari or Lamborghini you heard about? Like reading your mind he said, “I like Bentley for everyday use.” He opened the passenger door for you as you sheepishly went in. The drive was surprisingly pleasant, the weather was cool and he had the windows down with the radio playing the popular songs, singing along to them making you laugh and sing along too. Your anxiety was raised again when you two arrived at what seems to be a restaurant with valet parking.

“Why are we here?” You ask while nipping at your fingers. He looked at you confused, “for dinner of course.” “I, uh, can’t afford something like this,” you said with a blush. His confusion turns into a chuckle, “dude what? My treat of course, come on.” He led you in and the host brought you two to a private room. You glance at the menu but don’t see any of the price tags, only stuff like aged wagyu. He looks at how you squirm and smiles, your range of emotions have entertained him since yesterday when you first looked at him. You were so different from him, constantly on the move, taking everything so seriously. What did it look like when you came undone? He was determined to find out.

He orders for the both of you and makes small talk to learn more about you, each word captivates him and makes him realize how oddly charismatic you were. (He’s already in delulu land) Each back and forth feels so genuine and like a breath of fresh air to him and the best part is that you would look at him when talking to him. When the food arrives you light up after each bite, never did your broke ass think you’d even taste food like this. And don’t forget the wine, you might have gone a little too far with it. He helped you back to his car and started driving, you had the window down and your head stuck slightly out and in the zone to notice that you never asked him where he was going.

He was bringing you to his place, leading you inside to his room, you crawled into his bed giggling. He gets in bed and hovers over your intoxicated form. “Hey, this isn’t my bed,” you slur slightly. “You’re cute,” he says. You giggle some more and boop his nose with your finger. He leans in and kisses you, you sigh as you wrap your arms around him and return the kiss. His hands start to roam and grope your body, with the help of the alcohol your skin feels extra sensitive making you whimper. “You like that?” He asks as he breaks the kiss to have a taste of your neck, licking and sucking with sloppy wet sounds echoing through the room making you moan out his name. “We’re just getting started darling.” He reaches down to your entrance, “look at you, you’re so excited to take me.” He slowly works one finger, then two into your entrance, the slow rhythm gets you worked up and you beg for more. Derek sighs dreamily, this is different when other people ask him for things. He wants to give you the world if you let him. He slips his fingers out of you and you whine more. “Don’t worry, you’ll be filled soon,” he slides his pants down and his girth springs up making your mouth water. You’re grinding against his shaft and it sends a shiver down his spine. He holds your hips in place so he can line himself up to your opening and slowly pushes in. You gasp as he enters, you feel so full and he did everything not to just ram it into you. You both fell into a rhythm, the sounds of skin slapping, whimpers and moans resounded through the room. You returned the favor and sucked on his neck and teased his nipples which got him worked up and he took your legs and pounded you in a mating press, the amount of pressure was dizzying and you found yourself being drowned in pleasure about to release. Your toes curl as you orgasm and he follows sooner after. You pass out and he looks at your sleeping form with his fluids leaking out of you. As much as he wants to keep you marked he gets a towel and wipes you and himself down before snuggling next to you.

Has he known peace like this before? His eyelids grew heavy as he listened to your steady breathing beside him. He was already convinced that you were the one meant for him, his one and only. He’ll take care of you from now on and he’ll do everything you ask of him. Derek didn’t even consider the fact that you might say no, because in his head he was going to make you his and it was your choice of either heaven or hell.

[mixtape-timeout]

This is the last post I will be making on this topic. Since gimmeurtmi is back and posting again, here is yet another reminder for you that she is a Zionist. She is trying to spin the story and claim that people are witch-hunting her for being Israeli, which is just another excuse to deflect from her disgraceful behavior. Since she wants to say that we are spreading misinformation, please look at the screenshots in the link. These are screenshots of posts SHE made herself. Not my words, just hers. Read her posts without any of my commentary, and come to your own conclusions about her beliefs. Her posts speak for themselves.

((More below))

She can say she's Pro-Palestine all she wants, but her actions do not reflect that. I can't prove if she is attending peace rallies like she says she is, but what we do know is that the things she says and does are in direct contradiction of this. Please look at the tags of the original callout post and see the sheer number of bloggers (including other authors) she had blocked for being Pro-Palestine. She claims she blocked people for being Anti-Semitic, but what she perceives as "Anti-Semitic" is anything Anti-Zionist. The testimonies from people who used to follow her and used to be very close friends with her all say she is a very manipulative person who always makes herself the victim. She has repeatedly made Zionist posts, deleted them, pretended to change her views, post "Pro-Palestine" things, then go back and show her true colors once the accusations blow over. She had reblogged fundraisers for Rafah weeks ago on her blog @stuckonspidey after being called out that are now nowhere to be found. She is a liar and a manipulator who has repeatedly said things that contradict her actions just to save face.

If she's Pro-Palestine, why does she make posts sympathizing with the IDF? Why does she support the occupational force that kills Palestinians for fun, undresses hostages to humiliate them (including CHILDREN), beats hostages to death with hammers in their captivity, disguises themselves as HUMANITARIAN AID to kill hundreds of refugees, takes pictures with hostages/dead bodies and posts them on social media, steals Palestinian women's underwear and takes pictures with it after killing them/ransacking their houses, targets journalists and humanitarian aid workers, straps injured Palestinians to their trucks and uses them as human shields? This is the army that fired 355 bullets at the car that 6 year old Hind Raghab was in while she was surrounded by her dead family members, KNOWING she was in there. They are a depraved, violent occupational force that kills and tortures civilians, and one of the most basic pillars of being Pro-Palestine is opposing the IDF. You cannot be Pro-Palestine and have sympathy for the army that is killing and oppressing them. You cannot say you stand for Palestinian liberation and peace, yet mourn for their oppressors when the resistance fights back. There is proof all over the internet of the IDF's war crimes because they post it themselves. Here are a few links if you don't believe me. LINK LINK LINK LINK. Please research it yourself, too. You'll find no shortage of it.

If she is Pro-Palestine, why does she refuse to acknowledge it as a genocide? Why does she call it a "war"? Why does she call the International Court of Justice's decision to take Israel to court for its war crimes "questionable"? If she believes what Israel is doing is wrong, why would she criticize it being held accountable for its crimes against humanity? If she is Pro-Palestine, why would she call an Israeli propaganda movie that paints Arabs as barbaric savages her all time favorite and complain that it's getting RIGHTFULLY negative reviews for its blatant racism, glorification of war criminal Golda Mier, and historical misinformation? Her excuse was that "she posted about a movie because she likes movies." That is an absolutely pitiful reason and being deliberately obtuse to distract from the actual issue. When you say it like that, of course it sounds harmless, but the CONTENT of the movie matters. For example: Would you call "The Birth of A Nation", a disgustingly racist white supremacy propaganda movie your favorite? Absolutely NOT. And if you did, people would rightfully question you for that. If she's Pro-Palestine, why didn't she boycott LMB when there are two Zionists on it? One of which (Johnny Goldstein) is a former IDF soldier and attends Pro-Israel events? If she's Pro-Palestine, why would she use the well-known Zionist talking points, conflating Judaism with Zionism, and saying that when people say "Zionist" they really mean "Jew"? If She's Pro-Palestine, why would she have such an issue with Stays trying to inform Felix about the Coca-Cola boycott and say they are bullies? Do you notice a pattern here? Her labeling ANY attempts at calling out Zionism to be "bullying" or "Anti-Semitic"? This is the exact rhetoric Zionists use. Once again, she can say she's Pro-Palestine, she might even actually believe that she is, but her behavior does not reflect this. Saying "My posts aren't Anti-Palestinian because I'm not Anti-Palestinian" proves absolutely nothing. Someone who can't even call the genocide a genocide is not an ally to Palestine.

She continues to hide behind "Anti-Semitism" despite me and many of my friends who called her out being Jews or of Jewish ancestry ourselves. If you look through my blog, you will see a majority of my posts are dedicated to dismantling the idea that Jews = Zionists. I have worked so hard in my community to do this in real life, and it's incredibly frustrating to see her perpetuating this harmful stereotype when us Anti-Zionist Jews are doing everything we can to separate Judaism from Zionism. She is also saying we are racist against Israelis, which is an absolutely ludicrous claim. Israeli is not a race, just like American isn't a race. Israeli is a Nationality. 75% of Jewish people are Ashkenazim, meaning European/White, and about 50% of Israelis are White. Nationality =/= Race. Her claims of racism are, again, her using terms of discrimination to distract from her blatantly Zionist posts.

Furthermore the claim that we are attacking her simply for being Israeli is not only wrong, it makes no sense. I was not aware that she was Israeli before suspecting her of being a Zionist. A huge chunk of Zionists are actually Western Christians who support Israel for Anti-Semitic reasons, and I would NEVER sabotage a fellow Jew for their identity. I went out of my way to emphasize this in the first post. Gimmeurtmi was called out for Zionism that me and several other people in the community recognized, point blank period. We are not "painting her in a specific light", we are bringing attention to harmful, dangerous things SHE said. If I presented her posts to you without commentary, even in context, you could come to the same conclusion. The original callout post was edited many times with many additions as new screenshots/information came forward, and it was through the comments from other people talking about their experience with her that we found out that she was Israeli and had made those Anti-Palestinian posts on October 7th (which she deleted). It was her thinly-veiled Zionism that originally raised our suspicions, the knowledge that she's Israeli came after.

I know gimmeurtmi will continue to see herself as a victim no matter what. I know she will keep pretending she's being attacked for her identity just as all Zionists do. This post is just to disprove her accusations that we called her out on the basis of "racism", when the callout for her was a result of HER racism herself. I never had any problem with gimmeurtmi before she blocked me, I enjoyed her fics and looked up to her, as many others in the community did. She gave me no reason to dislike her before this. The only reason my friends and I put that post together was because we felt it was imperative that someone like her, who uses her SKZ blog to normalize Zionist ideology amidst a genocide, gets de-platformed. I cannot tell you what to believe, but I urge you to be careful and understand what a manipulative person she is. I urge you to read the screenshots of her posts for yourself and come to your own conclusion.

[persianflaw]

ATTENTION ALL PERSONNEL!

ATTENTION ALL PERSONNEL! The M*A*S*H fanfiction community has been approved! actually it was approved two weeks ago but i was on vacation

This community is open to any and all fans of M*A*S*H fic. Whether you're a writer, a reader, or a total newbie, this space is for you! You can talk about fics you've loved, ask for advice about a sticky plot point in your latest WIP, ask for recommendations for a ship you like, share an AO3 link to your latest fic, or share snippets from your work; the world is your oyster!

>> LINK <<

(As of 6.21.2024, communities don't let you generate an invite link yet, so just like/reply to this post if you want an invitation! This post will be updated with a proper invitation link once that feature is implemented.)

RULES (May be subject to change, but probably not that much change, lol.)

Be nice. Duh. Any bigotry or unkind behavior will not be tolerated. Welcome everyone with open arms and open hearts, and be ready to make new connections.

18+ only. Go nuts. Show nuts. Whatever.

No gory or sexually explicit images. Most of these go against tumblr's TOS, and we don't want the community to get deleted.

Keep things on topic. We're joining this community to talk about fic, so let's make sure we keep our posts fic-related! General discussions about M*A*S*H are fun, but not what this community is intended for.

If you don't like something, scroll past. We all like different things, and that's what makes the world interesting. If someone shares a fic that isn't to your tastes, you don't have to read it. Leaving a rude comment on anybody's post will get you kicked. (If you're concerned that somebody is posting bigoted or hateful material, let me know, but I honestly don't anticipate this being an issue at this time.)

Use read mores for long posts or NSFW material. This makes navigating the dash easier, and helps prevent people from getting jumpscared by lovingly detailed descriptions of oral sex on the subway, something that has of course never happened to me.

Tagging or using content notes for your writing is encouraged. This is the best way to find your audience. People who aren't interested in a particular subject can skip over, and you'll also be able to draw in the people who are enthusiastically interested! If you think a particular topic might be especially sensitive, a read more is never a bad idea.

Only give concrit (constructive criticism) when asked. This is a somewhat contentious topic in fandom as a whole, so we're keeping it simple and asking that members don't give criticism on fic posts unless the author specifically requests it.

And one final note:

Small groups and communities can easily become cliquish. Few things feel worse than joining a group, hoping to find like-minded people, only to find yourself surrounded by what feels like an impenetrable friend group with no interest in talking to you. Nobody wants to feel alone in a crowd.

So when you join this group, don't just talk to people you already know. That defeats the point of joining this kind of community, anyway! Make an effort to talk to someone new. Leave a gushing comment about a stranger's fic excerpt. Tag someone who you think has a really cool interpretation of a character you like. Reply to a post that hasn't gotten any attention. Include people who seem a little shy. Be open and friendly and welcoming.

[olderthannetfic]

audience question: how did you approach having to explain jkr's descent into madness to people who are chronically online but aren't tapped into the major fandom community, without just sending them contrapoints' video? (i mean, i can, but i'd consider it as a last resort if they want further info)

context: my old college friend who is a hp fan (the usual childhood book geek backstory) recently bought the legacy game and i had to bite my tongue when they try to engage me with it. it's in the scope of our usual topics, which is just sending memes to each other and minding our own business in different fandoms, but now i feel like i should say something, except that opens up a can of worms because of the *waves hands* discourse surrounding it.

i'm not sure how to unpack this without me having to come out to them in some capacity first (which is something i've been planning to do for awhile now, i know i'm not obligated to). it's such a charged topic for a friendship that's built on daily posts of cat gifs and i'm not sure how to bring it up without seeming like i'm shaming them for it? it's astounding to me that they have no clue why 'they're not seeing any fanart of this character on twitter when they checked' and actually went to tumblr to find some, without bumping into any bullshit, but i guess the tags self-contain the topic so they don't get see any discourse against it.

tl;dr: should i even bring this up? or should i just let it die down? i feel kinda bad ignoring the topic, but it's also something that i would not prefer to engage with said friend because i don't want to spend my energy having to address it. (i should just send the contrapoints video, huh)

--

I think I would say something like "JKR turned into kind of a jerk over the years and it soured me on HP-related things." If they ask for details on her being a jerk, send the video link.

I don't think it's necessary to come out, nor do you need to elaborate a lot until they ask. You can get into the issues with the game itself if you want to, but if your primary aim is to get them to not talk to you about HP and/or to be aware that there's something going on with HP, you don't need to get into that level of detail.

The experience of not liking a creator anymore after they change or you find out things is pretty common. If you keep it more to "I feel sad now", that gives them less to get offended by or argue with and feels less like an accusation.

[deanbrainrotwritings]

— HEARTBEATS AND FLATLINES

SUMMARY : dean was so focused on you he’d blocked everything that was going on in the background of his life as it were white noise. he didn’t realise how much that put you in danger until you went out of your date.

PAIRING : vampire!dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : Clayton (OMC) 

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), baker!dean, kidnapping, stalking (it’s only hot if dean does it), angst, unhealthy obsession, yandere!Dean, possessiveness, soft Dean, nerdy/dorky Dean returns, reader isn’t perfect, vague chronic illness, affection, obliviousness, violence, gore?, drugging, and more to come

WORD COUNT : 6.8k

A/N : this will soon fill the square for stockholm syndrome on my @jacklesversebingo card. lmao, it’s like venom/eddie with anne when she got engaged. I listened to MCR's bullets album for the maximum vampire vibes xx

Dean was restless on the days leading up to your date with Clayton. 

He tried not to make it too obvious, his deep disappointment and displeasure with your choice. Well, to him it felt more like heartbreak, an emotion more painful than any of those words could convey. 

He didn’t ever want to avoid you. He didn’t want to push you away by saying something rude about Clayton or doing something that would end up hurting you. He wanted to be near you, always. So he planned ways to avoid the topic instead, but you were entirely indifferent about Clayton and your date with him. He had no idea if you really actually liked the guy, or if you were nervous, or if you thought of him often. 

Dean couldn’t pick up anything from you. Maybe your cheeks heated up a little and your heart raced if you spoke of him, sometimes. But it was almost instantly gone after a few moments, like you just needed to find a baseline. It was not the way a regular person would behave if they ever were attracted to someone in any way. 

He was still a little rattled. Because you hadn’t changed. You still became flustered if he was kind to you. You always spoke to him, spent most of your time with him. It was why he got whiplash from the news of your date. 

Wouldn’t you, now that you considered him a friend, tell him all about Clayton? What would be your reason not to? Why didn’t you gush about the man any chance you had? Why wouldn’t you bring Clayton to the bakery when you came by? Why wasn’t your social media flooded with a few or many posts about him? Why wasn’t it obvious or at least detectable that you liked Clayton?

“Can you believe it?” It was the old guy, Nico, talking to his son Anthony. “Your aunt’s house costs $320 000, I can tell you it’s not what it cost when she bought it.” 

Dean slowly tugged his consciousness out of his reeling head. He focused on the sweet chocolate batter he was whisking at angrily and relaxed his wrist to slowly stop. 

“Do you think he’d be into a single mom? Look at him, he’s so pretty and young.” That was Tamara Stewart. You didn’t like her. So, the answer was no. He was petty like that. 

He picked up the crinkly bag of chocolate chips and dumped a handful into the batter. He tried to distract himself from his devouring thoughts by eavesdropping in on the dozens of conversations his customers were having.

“But Jon sucks, we’re playing ranked and he doesn’t know what he’s doing.” 

Dean gently mixed the chocolate chips with the batter, getting lost in their conversations until he’d flattened the top of the batter and scraped the surrounding area of chocolate until the bowl was clean at the top. 

“Nine murders already, Frank.”

Dean froze and looked up, watching brown eyes sweep over a bright phone screen. He could hear both heart rates rising in fear, their bodies tense as they shared the news. 

“What’s the police doing about it?” 

George continued to scroll through his phone, his brows pressed together in stress and said: “No idea, doesn’t say much.” 

Dean quickly took the glass mixing bowl to quickly pour the batter into the prepared muffin pan. His ears found their point of interest, the conversation between Frank and George. Still, Dean pretended to deeply concentrate on baking and walked to the back to shove the pan inside the oven and remove the croissants and sweet scones he’d made.

“I swear, this is fucking weird.” Frank rubbed his forehead anxiously. “They said it themselves on the first three murders, there wasn’t any blood at the scene. What the hell kind of animal does that? Sounds like a person to me. Probably dumped the body there, killed it somewhere else.” 

Oh, Frank. You don’t know the half of it. 

The following day, Dean was feeling unpleasantly wound up. 

He was hurt over your date with Clayton. 

And now, he was concerned for your safety as the day of your date came closer. You lived all alone in the woods. And there were vampires in town murdering people carelessly, as if they had no fear of getting caught. A beautiful and lovely woman was what you were to him, but to them, you were just a meal.

It didn’t just put you in danger. It put him in danger. Those vamps could easily move on, but a hunter could still follow. What hunter came by could find him, think the worst with the pile of incriminating evidence, and kill him. Or worse, Dean would have to kill the hunter out of self-preservation. 

He moved the murders to the top of his list of priorities because it still was all about you. Keeping you safe was all he could think of. It was like working a case again. Except it was easier because he was local, people knew him, trusted him, and liked him. What was harder was doing it alone, no Sam, no Cas. 

As always, Dean could count on flirting to get information out of police and detectives. A smile here and touch there proved that he still had it. Except this time, there wasn’t much he was interested in receiving because his entire body belonged to you. 

But at least he got a few photos of their files with his phone. It was easy enough to narrow down which monster was doing the killings. Vampires hardly ever changed their habits. But these vamps weren’t sloppy. They fed somewhere else and dumped the bodies randomly in the forest. They probably had different vamps from the nest dispose of the bodies so the locations were skewed and appeared random, but always deep in the forests. 

The victims were random. Three were dressed in running clothes, two wore work clothes, but the other four were dressed casually—killed on a day off or while they were out for fun. There was nothing they had in common, they probably bumped into the vamps, wrong-place-wrong-time type of deal. 

Their clothes were dirty, bloodied, tattered. They had bruises and cuts, but nothing that pointed to something that had human form. And to hide the vampire bite, the necks of the victims were completely torn by teeth. It was lazy work from the police, in Dean’s opinion, to blame mountain lions. Anyone with a brain would wonder how those people ended up in the forest to be attacked in the first place. 

Still, Dean had to find them and put an end to their nest. He wouldn’t stop you from going on your date, even though he’d previously planned on messing with your car so you wouldn’t get there… He hoped you’d be safer with… Clayton, and hoped that whenever he took you, you wouldn’t be left alone to end up as prey to the vampires.

All he had to do now was find the exact location of the nest and put an end to the vampires’ murder spree. 

SATURDAY — morning

You seemed a little more nervous than you were any other day when you entered his bakery. 

You asked him for some tea with honey, and he’d gladly obliged with a nice cup of chamomile tea that warmed your entire body in seconds. 

Dean, despite wanting nothing to do with what will happen on your date, wanted to comfort you. He sat down next to you, something he hardly did, and wrapped his cold hand around yours. You seemed a little surprised by his proximity, but you didn’t appear displeased. Instead, you turned your body towards him and smiled contently.

“I’m not exactly an expert in love, but shouldn’t you be… you know… a little more excited?” He asked, feeling elated that you placed your warm hand above his despite the way his touch made you shiver. You looked into his eyes curiously, tenderly brushing fingertips across his knuckles as you pondered his question with a fiery heat across your cheeks. 

“I sort of am,” you replied measuredly. He was glad he couldn’t physically cry because he would have been sobbing pathetically as a strange little ache settled in his chest. “I’m just trying to take it slow.” You tapped your shoe against his thoughtfully and he turned to touch his leg with yours, a harrowing need to be close to you overpowering any respect for your personal space. 

You instantly snapped out of your train of thought when he did, but your body completely decompressed as your eyes moved up to his face. He felt like you were seeing too much of him. 

“Slow?” He chuckled incredulously. His tone made you smile, but your brow raised, inquiring about his humour. “I think you might be takin’ it :0so slow you’re leaving your emotions behind a little. Most people would’ve been talking about their partner-to-be any chance they got.” The more he spoke, the hotter your face got. At least you finally looked away, appearing somewhat guilty. He slowly pulled his hand away from yours as your heat turned his want into need. “I guess I’m just wondering why you’re so nervous. You… like… the guy, you shouldn’t be this nervous,” he muttered.

He was glad you didn’t think much about the discontented tone of his voice, but you thought again for a few minutes after considering his words. “I’m… always watching people. I don’t need stuff to happen to me to learn something about life. For one, I’ve seen people falling hard and fast for someone... then it all falls apart, they're stupefied by the other person…” You breathed and ended your ramble. “Basically, I’m just trying to be smart and rational, so that I don’t end up in a bad situation.”

Dean blinked at you. 

Suddenly, everything that you were seemed to make sense. It dawned on him that you weren’t trying to be mysterious at all. You were just… calculating, and you applied that same logic to everything in your life. You always took long pauses to think before you spoke, you reacted slowly to his advances to contemplate him and then you made your move—depending on what you thought was appropriate, like a game. You were quiet because you were always observing others, learning from them, and then applying what you learned—to be accepted. You kept people at a distance out of fear and he knew more about that than anyone. 

“I don’t think there’s anything rational about love.” He knew that better than anyone, too. Why was he standing so close to you now? Knowing you could feel his unusually heatless body. Why did he stick around knowing he’d stolen your things and photographed items in your home? Why when you could easily find out that he was stalking you? That he’d broken into your home. That he longed for you and stayed by your side even though you didn’t and probably never would.

“That’s exactly why I’m trying to control it as much as I can. To have something seize me that way, to make me feel like I’m losing control of myself. I don’t think I can handle that kind of thing-”

“So that’s what it’s about? Staying in control?” He wanted to laugh. You and him were more alike than he thought. Not only did he have to restrain himself with his hunger for blood, but he had to wrest his desire to keep you all to himself. 

“Well, I think I’ve been through enough that it makes sense for me to be… controlling,” you argued indignantly. Your pout made him laugh, and his laugh made you smile. Then, you sobered. “I had no control over a lot of things in my childhood, even as I grew older. Even my illness dictated how I lived my life. There’s a lot of things. Abusive friends. My father. I was powerless most of my life. So yeah, I… I guess I’m just afraid to feel that way again. And love, romance, that’s even worse.”

Dean wondered with hope if you were trying to control yourself around him; if your date with Clayton was your way of controlling the way you really felt; if you felt so afraid about how strongly you might want or even need him, and forewished that it might be as much as he needed you. 

Dean reached out to grab your chin and made you look up at him again. You bit your lip and lifted your eyes from his shoulder to look at the greenness of his. He could already sense the blood rising to your face and your hand gently wrapped around his wrist, but you didn’t push him away. 

“When you find the right person, you won’t be afraid to lose yourself. Trust me.” Dean’s stomach somersaulted when your eyes dropped down to his lips and you licked your own. You pushed his hand away to wrap your arms around his neck, and he welcomed your first embrace. He could feel your warm breath by his ear, feel the heat of your body like the surface of the sun kissing his own when he circled his arms around your waist, and your heart thudded heavily, echoing against his empty chest.

SATURDAY — evening

The sun had set, swallowed by the horizon, pushed back by dark-blueness, leaving the moon behind in tall green trees. 

Damp dirt crunched beneath his once-retired boots. The scent of wet earth and rotten wood from the abandoned house the nest was vacating filled him with painful, nostalgic memories. He could smell human blood and salty sweat, he could hear quiet whimpers and panicked breathing. New victims. He focused on that instead.

He knew that facing the nest after the sun had set meant they were all going to be more awake. He could’ve missed work to do it during the day, but then it meant he wouldn’t have seen you. And he would not have been able to be so close to you, to fill his lungs with the delectable scent of everything that was you, to feel the sunniness of your body pressed against yours when you held him in your arms. 

He’d cherish that forever, if it was all you could give him. You wouldn’t ever know, but if you never chose him, he’d hide in the shadows of your life and do absolutely anything for you. Always.

Dean’s fingers twitched at the back door he was about to enter. Was he really just going to burst in there without getting a proper look inside? He cautiously made his way around the house to catch glimpses of the inside of the dark and ruined house. 

He counted the vampires downstairs, four women, two men, and the victims, two men. He couldn’t sense much from the second floor of the house, but he had to make do and act before they could kill the men. Dean could hear one of them, his weakened heartbeat, shallow breaths, not much energy left. The other must have been freshly caught… what a morbid way of putting it. 

He internally hyped himself up, swung his machete in his hand—like riding a bike. Hopefully. The sharpened edge of the machete was coated in a sticky layer of dead man’s blood, which intoxicated him slightly, but it had to be done. 

Now, he entered. 

He was greeted with hisses and bared fangs, and was thrown into decrepit walls and shoddy furniture. He was punched and clawed at, tackled and dragged across sodden and grimey floorboards. He was even bitten pointlessly by them. His skin healed and he stood back up and slashed his way through the modest, abandoned building. His freckled face, grey t-shirt, and old blue flannel spattered with blood. His jeans were covered in mud, old rain, and spilled vampire blood. 

His body thrummed and he felt alive. All those sensations against his skin were magnified and spectacular. He felt almost as alive as you made him feel. Saving people. Hunting things. It was like revisiting an old friend and going over fond memories. The family business, emphasis on the family. 

He’d tried so hard to get out. He did get out. But going back in was like relapsing, going back to a habit that he had always known was bad for him, deep down. 

Finished with the vampires downstairs, Dean hastily untied the men and ordered the more-lucid one to run and not stop until he was safe with the much weaker man. The man, Blue Shirt, had no idea what to think, didn’t argue and struggled to speed up as he carried Yellow Shirt out of the hell hole they had almost died in. 

Dean jogged upstairs and stopped at the woman who smirked at him. As if they knew each other, as if she had been expecting him. Uh-oh? Then two other vampires appeared behind her, bigger than the ones he’d killed downstairs, retracting their fangs with menace. 

“You don’t think we’d all just be waiting here… did you, Dean?” 

“What?” He voiced his bewildered thoughts. 

She took the opportunity to knock the machete out of his hand, as he assessed the two other vampires and attempted to absorb her words. She grabbed him by his neck to smile sweetly, only to smash his face into the window, and effortlessly threw him to—Yogi and Boo Boo. Dean smirked at them as they held him up, because the other guy was short, Boo Boo. That really eased the dull pain in his face. 

Now, he faced her again and she traced his jawline with her cold fingers. At that moment, as he sized her up, he decided she looked like Selene from Underworld. 

“The rest of the nest is out watching that pretty lady you’re obsessed with…” Dean’s face fell, enough to amuse Selene far more than she already was. “What’s her name…? Whatever, good… taste…” She smirked and leaned into Dean, enough for him to feel the dull air of her breath. 

“No,” he grunted, struggling against Yogi and Boo Boo as thoughts of you filled his mind. Thoughts of you going up against horrifying monsters you were not aware of and that you were not prepared to face. Why you? Why would they do that to you? 

“Yes, she’ll probably be as sweet as all that food you feed her.” Selene moved away to look out the shattered window, thoughtfully. “Does she smell good? God, I wouldn’t be able to stand as close to her as you love to be. I’d eat her right up, feel her body go limp as I swallow her warm blood… yummy.” 

Yogi and Boo Boo laughed cruelly, the grins on their faces that Dean peeked at showed their agreement with her words. 

“Shut up,” Dean growled. “Why are you going after her? What do you want with her?” It didn’t make sense for them to go after you. You were everything to him, but to them, you were nobody. Just a human. Unless it was about him. God, why did he have to piss so many monsters off?

Instead of responding to his question, she changed the subject and asked: “Alia saw you hunt coyotes and bobcats? What’s that like?”

Dean did not want to waste time talking about his diet if your life was in danger. It was a rash move to lunge at her, but his mouth connected with her neck and his fangs retracted on instinct, piercing hard flesh and disgusting blood that he sucked until she fell. 

He struggled against Yogi and Boo Boo’s grip, and was eventually torn off of her by them. Not without taking a chunk of her neck, which he spit out along with the blood he’d sucked from her already-dead body. He fought harder this time, for you and managed to get Yogi tangled up in Boo Boo when he shoved them into each other to swipe his machete from the floor as Selene recovered. 

He was grabbed roughly by Yogi or Boo Boo when they’d scrambled back up, but he kept his grip on the machete as he hit the wall one of them had pushed him into. He groaned as he turned, swung the machete, and Yogi’s head thumped loudly on the ground, a spray of his blood covered Dean, Boo Boo, and the wall. 

Selene kicked the back of his knee so he fell to the floor with a loud crack, and he was kneed in the face by fucking Boo Boo, then tackled into him by Selene. God, will it end?

Dean scrambled to get back up and removed her from his body by slamming himself with her on her back into the wall. Her breath rushed out as her body hit the wall painfully loud. Dean had barely managed to stand up straight when Boo Boo began to charge at him. Dean used Boo Boo’s brute strength to knock him into Selene before she could get up properly. 

Dean picked up his weapon again and drove the sharp edge across the back of Boo Boo’s head so he could see his brain slice through the middle with the partially diagonal slice from his machete. Dean kicked part of Boo Boo’s head away as Selene shoved his body off her. She stayed down and sighed defeatedly while glaring up at Dean. 

"It has come to this, the hunted, becoming the hunters to the hunted."(1) Dean quoted smugly, swinging the machete in his hand smoothly. 

“What?” She spat, wiping Boo Boo’s blood from her face. 

“Seriously? All this time on your hands and you don’t pick up a fucking vampire movie?” Dean rolled his eyes at her unwavering glare and sighed, squeezing his fist around the handle of the machete. “Can’t say this was nice, but, uh—it kinda was, actually. Huh.”  

Dean wiped his face with his flannel as he tore through the road on his way to you. Thank fuck you’d let him know where you’d have your date, even though his intentions weren’t exactly pure. If he hadn’t had to go after the nest, he probably would have sat nearby to hear everything you had to say. Maybe he’d even planned to interrupt your date and stir up some jealousy and.. but perhaps it was good the universe prevented that from happening. 

The only problem was that you were in danger. He had no idea what he would say to you once he stood before you at that restaurant-brewery where they made your favourite burgers. What could he say without sounding batshit crazy? Without frightening you to the point of making you want to be far away from him—forever?

That didn’t matter. If you didn’t listen, he'd have to force you, for once, into listening to him so you wouldn’t be in danger. So you wouldn’t die. You were human. You were all he had and even though your life was fleeting, he wanted to make sure you got to live a fulfilling life. With or without him. That’s all that mattered. He’d risk it all for you, in this life or death moment.

Finally, he realised he was close to the bar and parked nearby, in the darkened back alley where there was a woman smoking at the first door, a cat with its head buried in a bucket of popcorn at the garbage, and a homeless man covered in ragged blankets near the end of the alley. 

Dean didn’t bother with looking around for much longer. The vampires wouldn’t be going in after him, unless they were stupid. He just needed to go in and get you out, by his side where you were safer. With someone who could protect you against the horrors of the night. And not Clayton, the kind, safe, and boring mechanic that everyone knew and trusted because he wouldn’t charge extra, or lie, or… who was Dean kidding? Clayton was perfect for you. 

Dean broke the door’s handle and pushed his way through people and the cooks, and the man cleaning. He was glared at, but ignored for the most part as he made his way to the front. As per usual, Dean could find you without looking. He could sense you, the way your heart would beat, the brush of your hands across your skin, and the delicious taste of your body. You stood out like the sun in the sky. 

He found you in a beautiful deep red blouse that made you the centre of the entire bar. Without even intending on it. You were so delicate and beautiful, he had to save you. He couldn’t imagine the large cavity the lack of your existence would create, he always wanted to breathe your air and feel your heat and hear your sweet voice. Even if you didn’t belong to him. 

But soon, it was all smothered by Clayton. Dean could smell the remnants of engine fuel and cologne. Clayton with his blond hair and blue eyes and… ugh. It could be Dean beside you. 

It was as if you could feel him. You shivered and your eyes drifted away from Clayton as he spoke enthusiastically about his nephew. Your soft eyes met Dean’s and you looked surprised, then happy, and finally concerned in an instant. Had Dean not experienced time the way he did, he would not have noticed the rapid change in your expression. 

You sat up straight and Clayton finally shut up to look where you were looking. Dean forced his legs to keep moving, fighting against the tar that was created by his endless amazement at your perfect existence. He’d fight gravity to get closer to you, defying every law to protect you, like the Moon and the Earth. He was meant to be next to you. 

“Dean? Wha-what are you… doing here? Wh-what happened? You’re covered in… blood…” You stepped around the table as you questioned him, with a clean napkin clenched in your fretful fingers to find the source of the blood. You wiped away uselessly, before realising it wasn’t his. 

“I’m sorry, I can’t explain right now, but you’re in danger,” he whispered, wrapping his hand around your arm. He pulled you closer and you allowed him to as he scanned the room for any one suspicious or… undead. There was no one. 

“What are you talking about?” You touched his bicep, his eyes moved back to yours, and his face softened. Your touch felt like warm life being poured back into the empty vessel that was his body. 

“I’m so sorry, it’s all my fault,” he whispered. The unease and fear that shone through your eyes made his stomach clench.

“How? Dean, talk to me,” you attempted to regain his attention by tugging on the hem of his shirt—where he was clean of blood. Instead of replying to you, Dean pulled you closer and began dragging you to where he had entered.

“I just need to get you somewhere safe,” he explained, dragging your willing body into the back of the brewery and out into the alley. 

He heard you call his name multiple times, your hard-to-answer questions, and the apprehension in your tone. He slowed down only because he didn’t want to hurt your arm or cause you to trip and fall. Soon you fell into step with him and stopped bombarding him with questions as you looked around tensely. 

“Hey! What are you doing?” Clayton called after you and Dean, he had your jacket and purse. Dean noticed and you stopped moving, and then you stepped away from Dean. He knew you were considering returning to Clayton as he walked closer, but you stopped a foot away from Dean.

Clayton’s blue eyes, like a clear sky free of pollution, were filled with trepidation. He eyed Dean suspiciously and looked over to you. You were completely relaxed despite the terrifying, bloody state Dean was in and you were standing awfully close, trusting him despite the disorientation. 

“What’s going on here?” Clayton asked, but still returned your items to you. You couldn’t answer because you didn’t know how to. All Dean knew was that you hadn’t shoved him off you because of the urgency in his words, the stress knotting up his muscles, and the pleas in his Spring eyes. Why? Why would you just follow him anywhere without hesitation?

“Clayton, stay inside, this… is between me and her,” Dean warned, taking your hand rather than your arm. He could see the impala about a metre away. You didn’t smile when you turned to Clayton, you were still perplexed by Dean’s pressing behaviour, his determination in getting you out, and his insistence left no room for debate. 

Clayton appeared baffled and disappointed. He didn’t say anything, but Dean knew the judgement in his eyes as they stared at each other, the audacity is what his blue eyes were telling him. 

You squeezed Dean’s hand unintentionally. You didn’t know how to explain yourself to Clayton, but Dean saw the apology in the melted sugar of your eyes, and the deep frown of your oil-tinted lips spoke volumes. Your face told too much. Dean loved you. 

“It’s fine! I’ll… I’m sorry, I’ll call you later,” you promised, moving forward to squeeze Clayton’s arm which was covered by a white long sleeve. 

Watching it, while holding your hand, felt like he’d been thrown into a wall all over again. Breath knocked out, fury and jealousy boiled over him like lava. Dean tugged you away, but you didn’t complain. And you obviously didn’t notice what Dean had, Clayton’s gentleman-ly hand almost lifting to caress your cheek or move away that perfect strand of hair that curled perfectly around your face. 

“Are you sure?” He asked, moving his own long and blond hair away from his face as a biting breeze rolled over him. He ignored Dean completely. 

Part of Dean’s brain thought back to Sam, reminded of that kindness and the goodness in his brother shining through Clayton’s face. It didn't make Dean want to whine and throw you over his shoulder any less. He’d do it to get you out, but you would not approve of that. That’s the only reason he didn’t do it.

Maybe you nodded to Clayton, he wasn’t sure because he was examining a group walking towards you. His urgency returned when the five people approached the three of you and Dean sensed the lack of heat and sound from their bodies. Dean spoke lowly to you: “please, we gotta go now, sweetheart.” 

“Okay, Dean,” you conceded, but your tone sounded an awful lot like you believed he was having a mental breakdown, and you were just playing along until you got him some proper help. 

Dean stepped backwards with your hand in his and muttered a curse under his breath. He wished Clayton had just left you alone, but Dean knew it was too late to get you away.

Clayton glanced back at the group coming closer and started to say: “I’ll be-”

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Dean Winchester and his prize pet. You weren’t going to leave without introducing us, were you?” The only woman of the group sneered. Was this Alia? Dean forced you behind him. He felt your hands gripping the back of his shirt and your face’s heat beside his bicep when you attempted to peek over his body. 

Clayton saw the way Dean gazed alarmingly at the woman and her group, and stumbled away to stand beside Dean. Dean could hear the rise in his heartbeat and feel the anxious heat that radiated from him. Those vampires could definitely smell the fear on him. 

“Pet?” You murmured to yourself with a pout.

“What do you want?” Dean’s go-to was to find humour in any situation like this one, but he couldn’t focus on distracting the group of vampires since your heartbeat began to rise and your hand clenched his shirt tighter. 

“Straight to the point then, yeah?” She asked, chuckling and eyeing you behind him, then looked at Clayton with indifference. “You killed a lot of people, Dean—” He felt your grip loosen up on his shirt and your breath puffed against his arm. “—You didn’t think we’d just forget about all of it and let you get away with it, did you?” 

“I didn’t kill anyone,” Dean asserted. He scoffed, his lip twitched into a smirk on instinct and she glared at him. “I don’t even know you.”

“Of course not,” she crossed her arms over her chest. “Remember Boris? We were part of his nest. Robert recruited us. You killed him, too, remember?” Dean held her gaze. Why would he feel guilty about killing vampires? “Because of you, we almost couldn’t survive. After you left, more hunters came. Those of us who made it out, those of us who survived you, they were hunted and killed. And then we had to learn to survive on our own.” She stepped closer and Dean backed up into you, your warm hands pressed into his back. “It was hard… I created my own family. And here we are. Here you are.”

She looked at you, peeked over his body where you were hiding. Alia—Dean was pretty sure she who Selene was talking about—seemed to consider her next move before speaking. “You killed them, didn’t you? Did you really think you could just move on with your life like nothing ever happened? And come here to continue killing?” Dean narrowed his eyes at her and her deep brown eyes glared at him, a smirk grew on her red lips. 

Dean needed to get back to the impala, to get the dead man’s blood, to pick up a weapon he could use to fight them off. You’d also be safe inside the Impala. He’d even tell you to go far away, to keep yourself alive until he could find you again. 

Clayton moved beside Dean, looking up into his blood smeared face, slightly shaken. “Is it true? Are you the one killing these people?”

“What?” Dean snapped out of his head, looking at Clayton. You whispered Dean’s name, as a question. “The police said they were animal attacks.” Dean didn’t care about what Clayton thought, but what you thought about him definitely mattered. He also knew it didn’t look very good for him to be covered in blood.

“Okay, then who’s blood are you covered in?” Your voice shook as you asked. Dean sneaked a glance at Alia and her friends. The cruel sneer on her face made it clear to him that she’d intended on pinning the deaths on him—she wanted you to think that. 

He couldn’t explain himself to you. Vampires. Monsters. Why would you believe any of that? You’d just think he’s batshit crazy. You’d be afraid of him. 

“You need to get in my car and stay inside,” he ordered, turning you with his hands firmly on your shoulder. Your mouth opened, ready to argue, and your wide eyes searched his face with hope and fear. Two of the most painful things he’d ever seen piercing the dead heart he thought could feel nothing. 

“Don’t touch her,” Clayton warned, pressing his hand into Dean’s shoulder. Dean growled and shoved him away. 

“Dean! Stop!” You shouted, watching helplessly as Clayton stumbled to the ground. Alia laughed carelessly. “Dean, what the hell is going on?” You asked, ignoring everything that was going on around you to gaze into Dean’s eyes. Your firm tone shook Dean, you usually spoke to him so gently and bashfully. 

“Tell her, Dean,” Alia was suddenly closer, “tell her what you are.” 

“No,” Dean barked at Alia and pulled out the knife he had in his jeans dipped in dead man’s blood and plunged it into her chest while she was busy gloating. You gasped and covered your mouth, stumbling away from Dean and the group of men that suddenly began advancing with menacing snarls.

Alia pulled the knife out of her chest with a scoff and a glare in Dean’s direction. “Dead man’s blood,” she spat.

“Leave her out of this, she doesn’t know anything,” Dean pleaded uselessly. Still, he placed himself in front of you, hoping to get closer to the impala now that his only weapon was in Alia’s hands. 

“You have nothing left, Dean. You’re all alone. Killing her is the only way I can really deal damage to you.” She lunged forward and slashed the knife across his stomach before he could dodge it properly. Maybe he was a little rusty. 

“Dean!” You cried, instantly moving to his side to touch the sliced skin of his abdomen, but it was healing instantly. He turned to you as he hissed and you backed away from him, thrown by the way he snarled at Alia with his fangs bared. 

Alia turned weak and fell to her knees. The five men around her hesitated, looking from Alia to Dean. But Dean didn't have the luxury to demur, so he turned around and grabbed you to push you towards the Impala. 

He didn’t care anymore. You’d seen Alia survive a stab to the heart. You saw his wound heal. You saw his… teeth. His monstrous face. And you were too shocked to move. You just blinked and stared at Dean as he unlocked the Impala to inhumanly retrieve his machete from the passenger seat. 

“Leave him, Ray, it’s her he cares about,” Alia rasped weakly. Dean turned to see the youngest of the group ready to lunge as Clayton stood, trying to wipe blood away from his palms. 

Dean turned back to you and gave you a small shake. You blinked at him and tensed when you focused on him. “Get. In.” He demanded, placing the keys in your palm. 

It actually turned out better than he thought. 

Sure, his clothes were torn up from bites and the knife they were attempting to use between the five of them, but Dean knew he could take the five of them. He could’ve done it as a human. He could definitely do it as a vampire. 

He was covered in more blood than before. His hair was sticky with it and so was his skin, spattered and smeared all over his face. 

Disposing of five bodies was harder to do than he was used to. Usually, he’d have killed them out in those creepy lairs miles away from people where he could burn them to ash. He had Sam to help. This time, he’d have to leave them in garbage bags, in the large roll off containers from the restaurant. People turned the other way when they saw them fighting, probably assuming it was a regular old, drunken fist fight. 

He’d go back for the bodies once he got you and Clayton out of there. At some point, one of the vampires knocked him out cold. So Clayton was asleep in the backseat and you were still shaking in the passenger seat, staring dead ahead. 

This was so not how he pictured things going with you. Now, you were traumatised. You were probably scared of him, even if he’d saved you. He couldn’t blame you. He was a vampire and you’d just witnessed him easily slaughter five people. Only someone with experience in killing could manage winning a fight when they were outnumbered. 

After dropping Clayton unceremoniously into his couch, Dean ran back to the Impala and drove you to his place. He was surprised you’d allowed him to carry you all the way into his living room. And that you didn’t complain about him taking you to his home instead of yours. 

He hung your jacket and purse on the hooks beside the door and worriedly sat on his knees in front of you. He whispered your name and you lifted your eyes to his. You bit your lip. “Are you afraid of me?” 

You shook your head, and murmured, “I’m just… confused and… I don’t know…” 

“I’m here… do you wanna get cleaned up?” Dean took your hands cautiously, brushing his thumbs over your soft skin, over your knuckles. You shook your head, ‘no’. “Want to sleep?” You shook your head again, more vehemently. He smiled softly, a touch of sadness pooling in his stomach. “Is there anything you need? Anything I can get you or do for you?” 

“Dean,” your voice was a little hoarse. He hummed softly. “What the hell… just happened? I mean… how… wh- I can’t believe that…” You trailed off, falling back into the couch exhaustedly, and stared up at the ceiling as you attempted to wrap your head around what occurred. 

“I’m gonna make you some tea so you can calm down, and then we can talk.” Dean released your hands as he moved away from you. Your soft voice calling his name stopped him before he could turn away from you. 

“Will you tell me the truth?”

“Always.”

(1) Underworld: Endless War

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[ribena59p]

I've seen a lot of people try to paint Orcatstra / Maowzarts as problematic, and I believe much of it stems from misinformation or misunderstandings, often because it's being spread through word of mouth. I'm not making this post because Orcatstra asked me to—because they didn’t. No one is forcing me to write this; I'm doing it of my own free will. I really hope that #orcatstrahaters will take the time to read this carefully before dismissing it just because Orcatstra is my friend. I'm writing this to clear up the misinformation surrounding them, as I’ve seen people unfairly group them with genuinely problematic figures like Mawthe (who, by the way, draws necro art!!!).

Yes, there have been times when Orcatstra could have handled situations better (I'll try to keep my personal opinions on those situations brief), but let’s not forget—they’re 17! Some people seem to think that just because they’ll be 18 in a few months, they’re suddenly supposed to be all-knowing. Meanwhile, others are excusing or even babying older individuals like Criminalx3 and Parsnipling, both of whom, to my knowledge, are in their twenties! THEY should know better.

(Because someone asked) I bring up Parsnipling because they were called out for posting a fanfic where Dave from DSAF had animal genitalia (a cloaca). They then accused me of being the reason people sent them death threats, even though all I did was share a thread showing what they had posted. I didn’t even tell anyone to block them. Parsnipling lied to me, claiming that the tags with "cloaca" were meant as jokes. Afterward, they left Twitter (due to death threats, unfortunately) and went back to Tumblr, where they posted about how fandoms used to be spaces for "freaks." Take that as you will.

(I’m not debating the morality of referring to non-human genitalia with animal terms. Personally, I find it strange, which is why I made the thread in the first place—to draw attention to it. People are free to come to their own conclusions and decide whether to block or avoid interacting with them as they see fit.)

This post isn’t made to say you can’t..not Like orcatstra as a person..cus u can…everyone can dislike anyone for any reason just to reiterate this is just made to clear up misinfo

I exclusively use they/them pronouns for Orcatstra in this post specifically so that people don’t get confused about who I’m referring to, but please keep in mind when discussing them that they use any pronouns (besides from she).

The main points for why people deem orcatstra as problematic (that I’ve seen) are:

* Running a 15 year old off of their own tumblr blog

* Accusing a rape victim of liking and supporting rape + accusing the same person of being a groomer

* Comparing phone x Jack to slave x slave owner

* Blocking people for shipping things that they don’t like

I’ll be going through these one by one and explaining what happened to my knowledge.

Running a 15 year old off of their own tumblr blog

The 15-year-old in question ran a DSAF confessions account, where they posted anonymous confessions from people within the DSAF community. These confessions were typically related to DSAF topics.

I've seen people claim that Orcatstra harassed this person because their blog posted confessions about people disliking Davesport. However, that's completely inaccurate—Orcatstra doesn't, and never did, care if people dislike Davesport, so that part of the accusation is blatantly false.

(This is Orcatstras own words)

“I didn’t like harass them to the point they had to quit at most I made like 2 posts publicly and kept the rest of my disdain of a confessions account private”

“and I only disliked them 1) bc they’re a confess account which is inherently made to post and stir up drama like what. and 2) they DID post stuff that would cause drama so I was like dawg wtf”

“and then ppl from that blog started harassing ME 😭😭😭IN MY ANON ASKS 😭😭”

“Not (the 15 year old) I think but just ppl who followed the blog or were one of the “anons””

I believe some people are upset because Orcatstra was venting about the account on their private account, but I’m not really sure why... They're mad about that? Orcatstra’s private account only has about 50 followers, and most of those are people who follow with both their main and private accounts.

“I also think ppl were mad because I made a (admittedly dramatic) post talking about why I didn’t like the confessions account ,, but again from what I remember the points were just the og mod posting stuff that’s clearly gonna stir the pot YKWIM ..”

“and I only made that post because someone asked & for some reason you can’t comment pictures on tumblr which I think is quite stupid ☝️”

Accusing a rape victim of liking and supporting rape

(I do not know this persons pronouns so I will be referring to them with they/them pronouns, if they do not use these pronouns please tell me and I will edit this section to display the correct pronouns)

I believe the person being referred to is Cr1minalc1minalcr1minal, who has read and bookmarked non-con fanfics on AO3. Non-con stands for non-consensual, which is essentially the definition of rape. Orcatstra believes that if someone regularly consumes this type of content, it’s reasonable to assume they enjoy reading it. However, Orcatstra has never claimed that Criminalx3 supports rape.

“OH WAIT is it ok if i add that when i did point out the fanfic thing i genuinely was not aware at the time that guy was a victim, ..i dont rlly go on his acc bc i blocked him for my well being (i think thats the right way to use the phrase) … and i didnt/dont wanna be super creepy and stalk him. .. U CATCH MY DRIFT ..”

+ accusing the same person of being a groomer

(This is Orcatstras own words)

“So .. criminal ... I got this info from oomf so keep that in mind, but l've been told that he mains posts nsfw and encourages minors to consume nstw media and to my knowledge hangs out with one specific minor who changed ever since they became friends or something like that I NEVER! Explicitly said anyone was a groomer! ☝️ but it is very weird to see someone do that as an adult”

So they’re (minor and criminal) writing together but it’s not smut

“it’s not but like for a brief second we (orcatstra and oomf) were worried it was because. yk. that seems to mainly be what that guy makes 😓😓😓 (from what I’ve gathered)”

“And then I had to delete my replies bc I was replying on main and someone on tumblr (who does not follow (*oomfs) priv) took the links of my replies so I was like ‘erm what the freak this is kinda supposed to be a private convo’ and deleted them”

From what I understand, Orcatstra was having a conversation on their main account with someone on their private account, and they were discussing something about Criminalx3 that they believed to be true. However, it turned out not to be accurate. Unfortunately, someone on Tumblr took this conversation out of context and framed it as if Orcatstra was accusing Criminalx3 of being a groomer.

I don’t believe that Orcatstra ever made a public post stating that criminal was a groomer.

(I tried looking, but I may be wrong, feel free to correct me and I’ll edit this section)

Comparing phone x Jack to slave x slave owner

I believe this was stated in a now private youtube video where Orcatstra ranks dsaf ships, it may also be said in some tweets.

By definition, the DSAF 3 phone guys are slaves, regardless of the route. They are legally owned by Jack and work without pay. I understand that "slave" is a very strong and impactful word, which is why I'm personally hesitant to use it, but by definition, that’s what they are. You literally see Jack buying Harry in the DSAF 3 intro tapes. I've also seen people try to defend this by saying, "Well, Jack can be nice to them!"—as if that somehow erases the fact that he still owns them.

Blocking people for shipping things that they don’t like

There's nothing wrong with blocking people, even for no particular reason. It can be a little upsetting to get blocked over a post about a ship, but try not to take it personally—it’s just the internet. Unless you were doing something genuinely awful, Orcatstra probably blocked you simply because they didn’t want to see a ship they don’t like. They're just curating their online experience, which is totally normal.

And yes, people are bringing this up as an actual point against them.

I know that many people who dislike Orcatstra also dislike me for being their friend and sharing similar opinions. However, if you haven’t blocked me, please share this with others who might be misinformed.

There have been additional things added on by other people in reblogs if you would like to hear their side of the story.

I am more than happy to engage in neutral and respectful discussions, but I will not be willing to continue if you begin the conversation by being extremely rude or using offensive language. In any other case, I’m fully open to a constructive exchange of ideas, thank you.

[tadpoles-and-daydreams]

A witchcraft basics doc; update, resource call, interest check, and a possible second doc

Bet most of you didn't even know I was working on this >:D

Yes this is a huge post. It's a lot of things.

So, one of my first posts ever on this blog was me mentioning that a friend of mine had NO clue what they were signing up for when asking for the basics of witchcraft. The google doc I wrote took on a life of its own, and the post did as well when people started asking for it. I still plan to tag said people when I post it, assuming they haven't deactivated. The thing is, this doc had become a proper project, and it took a long time for me to have the motivation to work on it again. Now, though, it seems to me like a damn good way to reconnect to my craft after a rut! (which, by the way, is why I've been offline.)

So, my first post back is for a couple of reasons. For one, if you have any resources you'd think would be useful for beginner witches, feel free to shoot me an ask, DM, or comment/reblog on this post! I'll have a list of things I'm putting in the doc (taking recommendations there as well) at the bottom of this post.

The other thing is that I might end up making a second doc, one that's a little less "101" in vibe. It would have a MAJOR MAJOR UPG warning on it, first off, and I'm not sure whether or not I would be marking any UPG either since this would essentially be a second Grimoire/Book of Shadows for me that would be public to others for the sake of sharing information! I can't say I'd call it "advanced witchcraft" by any means, I'm not very fancy lol, but I don't want the basics doc to get too overwhelming. I do, however, want to scream about random witchcraft topics that interest me. So this is also a bit of an interest check for that, as well as the basics doc.

FINAL NOTE: I fully plan on posting this basics doc before it's done. Some sections will be unwritten or unfinished, because if I wait until I find it "finished" I'll never post it. It's going to be added onto whenever I can, but I feel as though getting it out is the best course of action.

A list of stuff in the doc that I'd take resources on (AKA everything planned in it) with * by anything that will be left unwritten/unfinished on purpose until I know more. I will take resources and recommendations on EVERYTHING though. This is in no particular order:

grounding and centering

VOCAB (intention, intuition, UPG/SPG/VPG, appropriation. probably others I'm forgetting.

candle, plant, crystals and safety* (as well as any other tools one might need safety tips for. This is left completely unwritten as I use very few tools of this type.)

deity work* (the whole debate surrounding when to start, as well as information about it. Will include smth about house rules/boundaries. My work is very casual, I'd love to see different POV's of this! This is by nature left unfinished because deity work is so unique to the witch.)

grimoire/book of shadows

tools of the craft* (common tools and how to use them consumerism in witchcraft, etc.)

cleansing

appropriation* (I don't know near enough about this, I just check what's in my own practice. I would like this to include a list of commonly appropriated closed practices, a definition of appropriation and why it shouldn't be done, open pantheons, and common open practices.)

spellwork*

meditation

where someone could go from here* (including sigils, tarot, crystals bc my friend likes rocks lol, maybe astrology but oh god I have nothing about that it makes my brain hurt just looking at an astrology chart /pos. I will probably make a list of stuff that I could add in this section.)

casual/daily/quick/low energy practices and witchcraft

paganism and witchcraft; overlap, what they are individually, why one might be for you rather than the other, etc.*

there'd be a credit section for anyone who wants to be credited for links/resources at the end! If you send me resources plz specify if you want to be included in that or not.

Things I might include in the second doc if I make it:

the craft and mental health and my experiences with it

things commonly touched on in the community (your deities don't hate you, cycles of inactivity and burnout, other things I'm forgetting rn)

deity-specific things, more specific topics of the craft, etc. yet another reminder that this would all include UPG, possibly unmarked, because it would basically be primarily used to give me motivation to research more.

[rwrbficrecs]

First monthly faves for 2024 !! ❤️

Leave a message by @sherryvalli (book-verse)

@dot524: In the mood for some cute, heart-melting fluff? This is a one-shot that recounts Alex’s voicemail messages over the years from those who care about him - including Henry.

would you be my love, my love? (would you be mine) by ohprongs (book-verse)

@wilmonsfolklore: a strictly come dancing AU with a lot of feelings that I've been thinking about ever since i read it!!!

even though we know it isn't true by @matherines (book-verse)

@wilmonsfolklore: for everyone struggling with academic pressure, or anyone, really. it's pretty sad but of course there's comfort personified in Henry!!

beyond infatuation, how obsessively i adore you by @waterloolovers (book-verse)

@wilmonsfolklore: a new fandom classic if you ask me. Henry works at the daycare Alex's daughter goes to and their relationship progresses really naturally. the kid content in this fic is some of the cutest i have ever read and this is the perfect fic to go on your reread list for comfort.

And They Were Roommates by @14carrotghoul (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Alex and Henry get to know themselves and each other after they move in together. This story is not sugarcoated at all, very realistic - just how life is, and so so sweet. Also, unfortunately, rather short, but still worth the read - as are many other stories by this author, such as the 'Las flores' series.

Spirit of the Season by @pridepages (book-verse)

@heybuddy-drabbles: A little late to the game but I finally read E.J's Christmas story. Her way of story telling doesn't disappoint in this shorter tale (by her standards). It's not lighthearted and it touches some difficult topics (mostly canon) but it's all worth it because of the way they fall in love through Christmas Eve/night. Can't recommend it enough!

Where There Are Octobers by @iboatedhere (book-verse)

@na-dineee: 31 short chapters that are just really fun to read! Some are post-canon or canon-compliant, others are AUs - but in all of them the characters are so beautifully drawn, true to how we know and love them! A vet AU, a hospital AU, major fluff, even an X-Files AU - and who knows, maybe one or two dribbles will turn into more?! Fingers crossed!

The Art of Losing by bigfishbigpond (book-verse)

@dot524: If you think the mid-story breakup should have been longer and more angsty, here’s the story for you. An interesting and heartfelt story of what Henry and Alex are like apart, and what pulls them back together.

I know that you hate me (Do you though?) by @arand0mdutchgirl (book-verse)

@magnificentandcoolfez: A bit of good ADHD angst (with some comfort ofc). I like the focus on how hard adhd can be and it's a short and good read for those who like comfort that comes in the shape of your crush holding you until you feel grounded again.

blushing ears and beating hearts by @kill8a (book-verse)

@na-dineee: This story is not just slow burn, it is glacial burn. It's an college AU, set in New York, and so slow, so tender, so fluffy - after reading it I was floating on cloud 9 for quite a while. I don't know if you feel the same way, but it's funny how changing one given variable somehow changes the whole dynamic between the two of them. Or is it just me?! Either way, it's so wholesome to tag along as their love blossoms, I still feel so hugged and cared for.

all so human with our guards down by @maxbegone (book-verse)

@myheartalivewrites: a post-apocalyptic story that is unlike any other. There are no zombies or gore, but instead it focuses on rebuilding and the softest love growing between Alex and Henry, surrounded by family and friends. I kinda wanted to live there by the end of it.

The Snow Prince by @orchidscript (book-verse)

@zwiazdziarka: several fairy tale tropes meet to create this absolutely amazing story. It has dreaminess of a fable, best kind of yearning of your favourite slow burn fics and a little bit of adventure of a fantasy novel.

but to say that I'm a rainbow, to tell me that I'm bright (when I'm so used to feeling wrong, well, it helps me feel alright.) by What_Is_A_Mild_Opinion (book-verse)

@zwiazdziarka: Fandom is really sleeping on this one! This story is a canon rewrite with characters reimagined as creatures with animal characteristics. The wordbuilding is so fantastic that even if you are not a fan of long fics following canon step by step, it's absolutely worth to check this even for a chapter or two and get to know these wonderful versions of Alex and Henry. (Alex is literally rainbow.)

safe with me / more than I ever (in a thousand years)by @indomitable-love (book-verse)

@na-dineee: I think the author is very well known among all rwrb fanfic readers. I really, really liked these two stories, like a lot: Two 5+1 fics, one from Pez's point of view, the other from Bea's - unfortunately both characters are given too little attention in the book imho. As expected, both narrators are sharply observing, protective of Henry, loving, honest, tender - and you end up loving Henry (and Alex) even more.

check out our past Monthly Faves here ❤️

[imagineredwood]

Would it be possible to get an HC or would include of Yandere Juice who's readers best friend and he (somehow) convinces reader to have sex with him and he pokes holes into the condom without her knowing? Thank you for giving us all the dark boys lately ☺️

**As you can tell from the request, this is not gonna be everyone’s cup of tea ***

This is obviously triggering content to some people so please please please don't read it if the subject is off-limits or triggering to you. It's yandere Juice who like anyone in that realm is crazy, obsessed, and unhinged and is not by any means a healthy depiction of a relationship. If anyone were to display these behaviors, RUN. That being said, the sex in the HC is consensual, it's the pregnancy that the reader hasn't agreed to obviously because the reader doesn't know. And one could say she was slightly coerced by being horny. (I did tag it for a TW for the R word since she didn't consent to unprotected sex but PLEASE tell me if there are any other tags for triggers I need to put in this post.) If you're on the dark fiction taglist and there are specific topics you don't want to be tagged for please also let me know. I also tagged it for categorization purposes on my page, but if anyone thinks I should remove them so they don't show up in the shows/characters tags please let me know. I'm still new to this type of content and want to make sure I don't do anything wrong.

He’s wanted you for so long

Wanted to marry you and spoil you and show you off as his

He loves you so much and has for so long

But you're just friends

Something you always made sure to remind him of whenever the joke flirting got to be a little too serious

You loved him, no doubt

But you were always hesitant, not knowing if he could be faithful when surrounded by so many other beautiful women so often

You didn't want to risk a broken heart

And he would rather have you only as a friend over not at all

So he never pushed

Only making half asses offers, hoping that one day you'd bite

It was one night when the conversation turned to sex again that he saw a golden opportunity

You admitted that you had never tried one of his favorite positions

Never saw the appeal

And he knows this is his chance

"You'd love it. I know you would. Once you try it, you'll understand. "

He'd go into detail more and more, slowly

Explaining exactly how he does it

How he'd touch you

How he'd position you

How good you would sound

How he would make you see stars

And he can see the way your eyes glaze over ever so slightly

It's the narrative as he explains and the way your mind plays it out that has your thighs squeezing

You think it's subtle enough that he'd never notice

But he notices everything

And he needs you to see how good he could be for you

"Come on. Just trust me. We'll go right back like nothing ever happened right after if you want. Think of it as a learning experience."

And before long, he's got you agreeing

"Just so I can try it out."

He nods and agrees, going into the nightstand and grabbing the one single loose condom that's out of the box

The one he kept for just this very moment

A baby is like an eternal link

Even if you decide eventually that you wanted to leave him, he'd always have access to a part of you

A bond that would be unbreakable

The mother of his child

He'd be a wonderful protector and provider

You'll see that soon enough

Dark fiction taglist 

@whitetxilwxlf @kikijackson-blog @ben-c-group-therapy @ravennaortiz @mama-mischief @pekusofixus @shellofashadow @flowercrowns-goodvibes

[nenelonomh]

organization 101

organization is about how we gather stimuli in our environment to complete tasks quickly and more effectively. it's about arranging our surroundings, providing order, and structuring items and activities around us.

this topic can be applied in so many instances - including physical spaces, digital files, schedules, and mental clarity.

staying organized offers several benefits:

★ when you're organized, you waste less time searching for things or figuring out what to do next. this efficiency leads to increased productivity

★ clutter and chaos can contribute to stress. an organized environment promotes a sense of calm and control.

★ organization helps you allocate time effectively. you can prioritize tasks and allocate resources efficiently.

★ a clutter-free workspace (or living space) allows you to concentrate better on the task at hand.

★ organized spaces encourage healthier habits, such as regular exercise, balanced meals, and adequate rest.

but how can you stay organized?

★ start with one area of focus (e.g. closet, desk, documents, ...) and gradually expand. focusing on one area allows you to see tangible progress, and as you declutter or organize, you'll build momentum to tackle other spaces.

trying to organize everything at once can be overwhelming. by narrowing your focus, you can prevent feeling swamped. concentrating on a specific area also allows you to learn effective strategies,, which you can apply to other parts of your life!

★ keep a to-do list. you can use a planner or digital tools to track tasks - and prioritize and sort tasks by urgency. write things down promptly to avoid forgetting them.

by freeing your mind from trying to remember all of your tasks, this mental offloading allows you to focus on the present moment. you can also assign urgency and importance, ensuring you will tackle what matters most.

★ give everything a home. clutter happens when items lack designated spaces. organize your physical and digital spaces intentionally.

★ once organized, maintain order consistently by building habits and systems. regularly review and adjust your systems when needed.

maintaining daily habits can significantly contribute to staying organized.

digital files

personally, the biggest issue i have with organization is building (and maintaining) a good system for digital files. it is crucial for me to learn how to organize these well, however, as a digital creator.

here is the process:

★ create a folder structure,, and design a clear hierarchy of folders that reflect your workflow. organize files logically based on projects, departments, dates, or file types.

at the moment i sort my files as content home < links, content plan, instagram, pinterest, tumblr, youtube < scheduling, post ideas

however, sometimes i find myself with documents that don't fit any of these sections. my plan for the future is to reorganize this to be the most effective it can.

★ use descriptive file names,, and name files clearly and concisely. include relevant keywords to make searching easier

★ consider using tags to categorize files across multiple dimensions. tags enhance searchability and allow flexible organization.

this is something that i am looking to employ!

★ utilize cloud services like google drive or dropbox for easy access from anywhere.

i will forever be a notion girl,, even though it is not quite a cloud service, it allows me a similar experience.

★ make decluttering a routine. delete duplicate or unnecessary files.

★ pin essential folders to your sidebar for quick access.

physical decluttering

writing this, i was reminded of the (horrid) bedrotting trend, especially those videos where people would show their rooms with shit everywhere and mould growing on stuff. i'm aware that some people find it super hard to maintain organization or declutter - hoarding is a very real issue.

the benefits of staying organized were previously mentioned, but decluttering specifically has its own little set of positives. this includes reduced stress, improved focus, enhanced productivity, and more positive overall wellbeing.

here are some essential tips if you are struggling to get started:

choose a small area or category to begin decluttering. set a timer (15-30 minutes) and sort items in that area into 'keep', 'donate', 'trash', or 'unsure' piles.

you could also attempt a room-by-room approach, by tackling one room at a time. focus on completing each room fully before moving on to the next.

try to organize your belongings into categories (keep, donate, sell, discard) to make decisions easier.

remember - progress comes from consistent effort, and small steps lead to a clutter-free space.

further reading

i hope today's post was helpful!

as for further reading, check out these sites: ★ How to Declutter Your Home: 6 Best Room-by-Room Methods (thespruce.com) ★ First Steps to Decluttering - Understanding the Clutter - Being Minimalist ★ Productivity, Organization & Personal-Development | 101 Planners ★ Executive Functioning Skills 101: Organization | Life Skills Advocate ★ How to Be Organized - 10+ Habits - Organized 31 ★ How to Be More Organized & Productive | 10 Habits for Life Organization (youtube.com) ★ How to Be More Organized (verywellmind.com) ★ How to Organize Your Digital Files | Reviews by Wirecutter (nytimes.com) ★ Master How to Organize Digital File Management (riverfy.com)

❤️ nene

image source: pinterest

[dreamofjoys]

𝟯𝗞 𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗡𝗧 ; 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗗𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗙𝗔𝗘'𝗦 𝗕𝗟𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗜𝗡𝗚

Summary: Thrown into a world full of magic, you find yourself surrounded by a bunch of high school boys who knows nothing but to bring trouble and chaos. While you struggle to cope with learning about a brand new world where magic is of essence, something that you lack, you started questioning why was it you who fell into twisted wonderland. Was someone behind this? Was it all just a coincidence that you fell into this world? And most importantly, why you? To find these answers to your questions, you were constantly thrown into near death experiences that did little to nothing to aid in your investigations. Anger, sadness and doubts starts to manifest as you wonder if you will ever be able to find a way back home. However, new friendships were forged, and love has started to blossom inside you like spring. In the end, it was all love that has guided you to where you are now.

— pairing: Malleus draconia x fem reader (soulmate au)

— content info: sfw, might have some sensitive topics here and there but will indicate at the top of the post, diasomnia chapter spoilers

— a/n: To celebrate reaching 3000 followers, I have decided to write a series for my one and only husband, Malleus! Recent chapter updates about Diasomnia has been pretty wholesome and heart breaking. Therefore, I wanted to write something nice for our big boy. Most of my followers are from twisted wonderland, so I hope that this fic reaches out to them. It's been a long time (3 years to be exact) since I have dedicated myself to write a series for a character. It's going to be a long and painful journey for me but I really hope to complete this (despite my busy schedule). To all the Malleus's fans out there who are searching for any crumbs, I hope this is enough for you <3

— update schedule: I aim to update once a week, or maybe twice if I am lucky enough. This series will probably take a long time to complete, and I am forcing myself to write ahead of the schedule cause it's very lengthy. I seek everyone's understanding to not rush me to complete / upload them asap.

— first full chapter will be uploaded on 15 july 2023

— tag list will be opened for this! please comment to indicate your interest

Consolidation of All chapters (will update list as time goes by)

— Prologue ; A fragment of my memory

— Chapter 1 ; Walking upon a dream

— Chapter 2 ; Intruders

— Chapter 3 ;

If your user is tagged here, means you are in the taglist

— @randomfangirl2718 , @mell7 , @windalchemist001 , @mxaaii , @sailorenthusiast , @masquerade-of-misery , @rayroseu , @lychiikuma , @bannuu , @worldussysblog , @jnksgrl , @rincommittedarsin , @nooneknows8976 , @qmabailor

[guppybibi]

It's Showbiz, Baby.

𖦹 pairing: Kita Shinsuke x fem!reader

𖦹 word count: 2460

𖦹 content: shinsuke is in deep denial, slowburn…very slowburn. hints(?) of body image issues and eating disorders. shinsuke is insanely oblivious. mild cursing.

𖦹 notes: a lot of the farming terms are from google…i i dont know how it works. Also just posted it on my AO3 ! (hearts4abbie). I apologize for any misinformation about the topics here, all of these are from google. next one is them having a silly 'date' tee hee:p

✧. ┊    Part 1 ┊ Part 2

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

It was the break of dawn, and Shinsuke was already up and about in the fields; sleep was still in his system. He yawns as he tends to his rice grains, spraying on some fertilizer to increase the yield. Adjusting his hat that keeps him cool while under the sun, he yawns while intently watching the sky as he waits for the sun to rise. To his own surprise, he was met with a light tap on his back which obscurely startled him. His body instinctively does a little jump, yet his face said otherwise as it was still the same as before. Turning around to see who it was, expecting it to be his family. You were standing right before him in humble clothing, one wouldn’t think of you as a viral sensation with how you looked like right now. Shinsuke mentally shook his head, he shouldn’t stereotype that all celebrities prance around in designer clothing..

“Um..Shinsuke, right? Can I ask you something?” You asked in a rather meek tone which Shin didn’t really expect, sure he had already met you yesterday but he couldn’t just automatically assume how a person acted based off of one single interaction. He won’t lie, he has watched multiple of your movies with his sister and you coincidentally played all of the roles that required you to be rude and mean. He just..expected you to act that way in real life as well since you were so good at playing those types of roles. It was like you were meant to be playing the role of an antagonist in every movie you star in, yet the figure in front of him tells him a completely different story. “Yes, what do you need Ms.- um..Y/N.'' He curses himself in his head when he slips up, he had permission from her to address her casually; after all they seemed to be about the same age as each other. “Well I’m sorry for bothering you if I did but I heard there’s a plaza nearby? Do you know the directions to it?” You ask, fiddling with your hair as you anticipate his answer.

“The plaza..? Well I’m not so sure which plaza you’re referring to but the nearest one here is about an hour away..” He replies and gets a disappointed look in return, hearing you mutter an “oh..”. The air of dismay surrounding you struck something in him, he wasn’t sure he knew what it was but he couldn’t stand seeing you feel that way. He assumes it’s just his hospitable nature striking a chord in his system, a lady was in need of help; his client out of all people so he needed to help. “I’m actually stopping by there later this afternoon to drop off some deliveries, maybe you could tag along?” He offers, quickly catching your attention. “I’d love to! Thank you so much, I’ll pay you-""No need to pay me with money, I don’t need it.” He bites his tongue to stop himself from offering her to help her around the farm or cleaning his home, remembering that she was a guest and a celebrity. He shouldn’t let her lift a finger, she was here to relax; not to scrub the floors of their porch. Though you notice he was about to say something, urging him to continue. Humans had the right to speak after all! Unless he was an alien–no that was stupid..You couldn’t help but visualize him as an alien though..”No no! Go on, I’m not that sensitive. I’m sure I can handle whatever you were going to say.” You insist, the white haired man still looking unsure. “I..Maybe you could help with scrubbing the floors..?” He suggests, his voice barely audible as he tries to avoid your gaze. “That’s it?” You question, tilting your head to the side.

Shinsuke looks at you, raising another thin little brow. You spoke of the chore like it wasn’t a laborious task, sure it wasn’t the hardest one but it still required a good amount of effort. “You don’t really need to-” “No! I- I mean, I’ll do it!” Shinsuke knew that he had no place to argue back, whenever he had disagreements with women he always somehow managed to lose. Whether it be with his grandma or sister, it seems like it hasn’t changed until now. “Alright, I’ll take the silence as a yes. When do I start?” You ask, looking oddly excited to do such a chore. Shinsuke thinks about how his whole family is still asleep right now, not to be awake in a few hours or so. It would be best if she started while his sister was asleep so she doesn’t go batshit crazy when she sees her idol scrubbing the floors of her home. “If it’s okay with you, you can start now. When you’re finished, come back to me.” He instructs while you nod in agreement.

“The things you need are in the closet over there, thank you. If you don’t want to do it, you can always stop whenever.” “I’m not made out of glass, I can scrub a few floors here and there! I’ll be back.” Then you set off, Shinsuke could see your figure from afar–on your knees as you cleaned the floors. He can imagine his dear grandma scolding him for making a guest such as her clean their home. Eventually, you finish the task given to you; putting away all the supplies you used and proudly standing before the now squeaky floors. Looking over to the field, you see that Shinsuke was already pretty far. Running over to him, following his instructions earlier; you weren’t so sure if you were panting because you’ve been running too quickly for a while now or if your body is just tired from the task you just did. You always felt tired, you didn’t know why. Everyday you just felt so low on energy, like you were about to collapse and fall asleep. It never really worried you, you weren’t a sickly person–even as a child.

You stop in your tracks once you reach Shinsuke, who is still doing farm work. Hands on your knees and sweat beading on your forehead as you pant, you looked like you ran a marathon. A concerned expression arises on his face, about to reach out to help you before you start waving your hands. “I-I’m alright! I finished scrubbing the floors, they’re squeaky clean!” You babble, hands on your hips as you finally managed to lift your body up. “Um..alright, thank you Y/N. I’m actually about to finish up so we can have breakfast together? It’s 7AM already, unless you’ve already had your fill before coming up to me earlier?” Have you eaten yet? You don’t really remember, it’s not like you keep track of everything you do daily. You shook your head no, feeling your stomach grumble at the idea of food. You blush as you hear your tummy growl, wanting to shame your own belly from loudly announcing your hunger in front of your acquaintance. Shinsuke just smiles though, almost identical to the one his grandma always has. He doesn’t really notice the sounds of your stomach, not that he cares–it wasn’t any of his business. “Very well, come with me. I’ll just reheat some of the rice porridge we had last night, if that’s fine with you?” Rice porridge..It sounded nice, considering that the rice was made by them; a bunch of well trusted rice farmers–it must’ve been good. Yet the next words you blurted out next were quite different from what was on your mind. “How many calories does that have again?” You swore you sounded like a crazy health nut just now, realizing that it may have been interpreted as something rude. “It’s about 80 calories, I don’t see why it matters-” Stopping himself yet again, something felt weird..Shinsuke has never doubted himself, never. So why does he feel like he’s walking on eggshells when he’s around you?

Is it because you’re a literal leading light in the entertainment industry and could quickly trash his whole family’s name with a snap of a finger? No, with how you’ve acted so far; he can safely assume you wouldn’t do that over something so simple. However there really is something churning in the bottom of his stomach, you didn’t seem right to him. “80 calories huh..Well since I’m on vacation, I should treat myself to a good meal!” You mumble to yourself, shrugging as you watch and follow Shinsuke while you both trek back to his family home. You were honestly pretty surprised how welcoming he has been so far, is this how all province folk are? Wondering if his family was the same and that Shinsuke wasn’t an exception. You might as well move right here, this instant! “After you,” The bicolored man spoke, sliding the wooden door open carefully so as to not wake up his still sleeping family. Looking around his home as you step in, awe fills you once you see the traditional interior of the home. It felt strangely comforting, nothing you’ve ever felt even when staying at the grandest mansions back in the city. Everything truly has its own charm..”Make yourself at home, I’ll just heat up the food.” As Shinsuke excuses himself out of the room, while he heats up the food; the feeling in his stomach wouldn’t go away. Perhaps it was just hunger, it must’ve been.

He’s never felt this way in a rather long time, the feeling has a similar tinge to when he was looking after his volleyball team way back. Watching over them like a proud father, feeling obliged to take them under his wing. Or the first time he saw his little brother, light shining on the swaddled baby as Shinsuke thanked the Gods above them. Care. That was what he felt. But why did he care about you? You were a mere client to him, ones he came across with everyday. What exactly made you different? He just couldn’t put a finger on it..He decides that he’ll soon do what he thinks is best, questioning his family about it.

Having breakfast with you felt natural, chatting about your two contrasting lives surely kept you both entertained as you gulped down the meal. The calming aura surrounding you both that felt just right was disturbed when Kimiko entered the kitchen, still in her pajamas with bed hair as she rubs her eyes open. She stood by the doorway, staring at you; recognizing you almost immediately. It took everything in her not to pounce onto you in excitement, she doesn't even know what to do first–is she still dreaming? She pinches herself, hoping she wasn't in a dream.

“Good morning Kimiko.” Shinsuke greets, interrupting Kimiko’s buzz as he drinks some water. Then you figure it was time for you to greet her as well, it’d be awfully rude not to. “Good morni-” “OH MY GOD! I- And you're having breakfast with my brother!?” She even takes a double take to make sure you were really eating together with her brother and he didn't even bother to tell her! She couldn't believe this, it was practically betrayal! “I’m Kimiko, it's so so so nice to meet you- I’m honored-!” She blurts out, taking your hand and shaking it instinctively. She was in such a thrill she didn't even notice she was crossing your boundaries a little bit.

What she did notice is how bony your hands are, a punch from you would definitely hurt..The inner Kita family hospitality and concern arises in her system, looking down at your linked hands. They were veiny but that was normal, but someone of your age and height shouldn't be this skinny. She slowly sets your hand down, apologizing for her actions. “It's alright, no need to apologize. It's a pleasure meeting you Kimiko, your family has been nothing but great since I got here.” You commented, flashing her one of your signature soft smiles that made everyone melt.

“And, thank you Shinsuke for the meal. I’m going back to my cabin, I’ll get ready for the ride later.” You then excuse yourself and leave the two siblings alone, once Kimiko makes sure you're out of the vicinity she gives her brother a knowing smirk. “A ride, huh? Got a date?” Shinsuke shook his head no, he was just doing you a favor after all. “No, she's going to the plaza so I figured it’d be best if we go together.” He gets a disappointed sigh from Kimiko, huffing as her excitement dies down. “Awh..too bad, I thought my brother actually scored a date with a celebrity!” The bicolored man was unfazed, used to her sister's teasing. Shinsuke never really bothered about his love life, putting his work and family as his top priorities. He knew it was important but he had to set goals first.

“Ya know I got eyes on the back of my head, I know you have a thing for Y/N. To be honest, you really aren't the only one so I’m not surprised. I wouldn't mind her being my sister in law!” Her words made the man think, he simply believed that this was just infatuation. She was a beautiful young woman after all, the whole world was aware of that so it really wouldn't be anything extraordinary. He wasn't one to believe in things such as ‘love in first sight’, those were just things entertainment made up. Kimiko knew what her brother was thinking, annoyed at it..or she's just a ‘little’ bit of a hopeless romantic. “I know you're thinking this is just infatuation again, and I’m not pressuring you to start a thing with her or anything–but if you feel something for her then go for it. Take the chance.” Again, this made Shinsuke think. He knew she was right, still–he never really had the heart to go further as ‘friends’ with the people he met. Not that he was uneducated about it, he was honestly just a busy guy. The part of her being a celebrity set him off a little bit though, her life was far from private and quiet. The complete opposite of what he desired, he felt like it wouldn't work out in the long run. “Um..yes, alright. Though I do believe a ‘crush’ of some sort is formed over time thr-” “Yes yes, we get it! No need to do some rocket science explaining, now go prepare the packages. I’ll have breakfast and clean up.” She cuts him off, pushing him out of their humble family home. Shinsuke grumbles under his breath..

“Maybe for once in my life, the results won't be just a byproduct.”

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

[stuck1nthelimbo]

im so normal about them — 📌 post | masterlist | ko-fi

4 》(Nipple play) - Gagging - Hickey/biting marks ― Breakup High [Getou Suguru x f!reader]

When Satoru breaks up with his gf, who's supposed to console her other than his best friend, Suguru? And consoling includes more than reassuring words...

TAGS!!! 2.1k, no beta reader, gojo's ex sleeps with his bestie, unprotected/no condom sex, hickeys/bite marks, teasing, licking cum, slight nipple/breast play, pussy drunk suguru lol

pookie, desperate suguru??? who wanted satoru's gf??? since the moment they met??? these two posts are giving me desperate vibes

It’s been a week since he broke up with me, and instead of feeling heartbroken, I can’t believe he had the guts to do so. This ego of mine couldn’t handle being humbled by the man, who asked me out first. After the breakup, to my surprise, the person who lent me a helping hand was none other than Gojo Satoru’s best friend, Suguru Geto. I woke up to a text the following day with consoling words and an offer to hang out with me to keep me company and my mind — occupied. I took midnight walks with Suguru, divulging my worries to him. After a meeting or two, he confessed to having a teeny tiny crush on me since meeting me through Gojo. I wondered how many times he had jerked off to the thought of me.

“Still can’t wrap my head around it,” I scoff, crossing arms over my chest, one leg over the other, and lean back in a chair while a raven-haired male brews coffee in the kitchen. He doesn’t turn around, merely throws a glance over the shoulder. Tied-up hair subtly bounces around, the bangs dangling about.

“Come on, don’t look into it too much,” he doesn’t sound reassuring, just annoyed with the repeating topic. I’m preoccupied studying his back, he hums some lullaby. The outline of his broad shoulders is visible through the plain white shirt; He has awful timing in choosing gray sweatpants. Or if we take into account that he was expecting me to show up at his flat, he is perfectly aware of how to create a ‘comforting environment’ for a person with a broken heart.

“He broke up with me and still cannot leave me alone. We hang out so much,” Geto thinks he can click his tongue without me noticing. As he turns around, I spot the paper-thin line his lips have formed.

“You guys still hang out?” he huffs.

“Remember when I was texting you the other night?” I refer to the event a few nights ago. He gently places the cups filled with piping hot coffee on the table and raises an eyebrow in anticipation of an answer. “I went to his place, we drank,” I hesitate to mention the affair that took place, “and then had sex. I texted you while he was asleep beside me,” the change in his facial expressions is apparent: the soft gaze turns into a mean glare in a split second. He clutches the cup handle between his thumb and index fingers.

“Don’t you have any self-respect?” He sneers before bringing the coffee cup to his lips.

“Why? Cuz I sleep with my ex?”

“Exactly,” he leans forward, hissing through his teeth as if we’re surrounded by people in his empty apartment. “You’re sleeping with a man who broke up with you, still clinging to him,” I have my reasons, “Any man would gladly sleep with you.” In response to his indignant comments, I also lean, keeping my face a centimetre from his.

“I’m not clinging to him, just looking for a replacement,” I sip my coffee, basking in its deliciousness until I notice the glassy stare Suguru’s giving me. Head hanging low, he observes me from under the furrowed brows. I think he’s mindlessly upset with me until the contrast between his large cold palm and my warm thigh snaps me out. Those long fingers bluntly dig into my supple flesh. He has never been this bold.

“And I said, any man would eagerly take Satoru’s place, ok?” alluding to the availability in the middle of the conversation, the sheer confidence in his moves prowls a shiver up my spine, “You don’t need to beg…”

“Who would take his place?” the tension in the room can be cut with a knife. His mouth noticeably agape, his eyes hungrily wander all over me, making my skin tingle with excitement. Their final stop is around my lips. Before he’s finished daydreaming, I grab his face, squeezing cheeks and leveling his eyes with mine, “who?”

“Oh, you know damn well,” he mutters through puckered lips; My heart drums in my chest when his eyes scurry across my face, his lips pouting stronger as I grasp his face. My unoccupied hand lingers around his stiffened shoulder, sensing the muscles gradually strain under the path of my fingertips.

His jet-black eyes stare unfocused, stunned, as both arms envelop my waist, open palms firmly press on the back, pushing me onto his lap. Geto’s hot breath spills all over my jaw, goosebumps prickle it, and his coffee-stained lips skim along the skin. The caution in his moves thins out my patience.

“I can fuck your brains out better than him,” he mumbles against my ear, securely holding me against his lap and shoving the pants-straining erection onto me. How long did he wait for this opportunity? A large hand swats my ass, I wince at the sensation and glance over the shoulder; His digits dig into the flesh, gliding under the fabric of my shorts, until the tip of his middle finger brushes against the underwear. I hold my breath, shifting attention to the hand that eagerly kneads my pliable ass cheeks.

“Geto,” I fake a protest, attempting to distance myself from him, but his arms bind tighter around me; He groans at the sound of his last name: I make it sound so formal, meanwhile my hips instinctively roll on his lap with legs spread apart.

“Don’t call me that,” he objects with a weak pout. I lean back as far as possible, hold his face between my hands, and goad him.

“Suguru,” I've never referred to him by his first name; His eyes luster, one hand sinks further into the supple flesh of my ass, the other sidles through my hair and forces me into a greedy kiss. His tongue slithers into my mouth, lapping against mine. Steamy fog clouds my judgment, dissipating the remaining scraps of thoughts as I cling to him, throwing arms over his shoulder and linking fingers behind Suguru’s head. He breaks the kiss, short-winded, lips glistening with thin threads of saliva.

“Say that again,” his eyes glued to my lips, he babbles. I repeat, enunciating each syllable of his name. He leaps to his feet and hurries to the bedroom, I lock my legs around his waist, preventing myself from slipping off of him. Blindly swinging open the bedroom door with an open hand, his mouth feasts on my neck with vehement hunger, scattering violet blotches across my shoulders and throat.

I ease the locked legs behind him, slump back onto the bed, and throw arms in the air, awaiting him.

He crawls on top, messily yanking clothes off of me, tossing them on the floor. Grabbing the neck of the white shirt, Geto pulls it over his head, before he closes the distance between us: planting light kisses around my lips, he decides to move down, softly tracing down the jawline, neck, and chest. His teeth tug on the perky nipple, drawing whimpers from me. Suguru’s breath on the damp skin electrifies my body.

“Fuck, I wanted to do this for a long time,” he speaks under his breath, in hopes that I won't hear it. His hands fumble with my shorts, jerking them off my knees. Suguru’s lips return to adorn my skin with pecks under the navel, while his fingers hesitate to remove the underwear. The digits circle the clit through the flimsy fabric, driving me mad. The pressure’s just right, but the rhythm’s off, making me arch my back.

“Suguru, please,” it doesn’t take me long to whine, I’m impatient, and he snickers against my stomach; His hand reaches for the condoms on the nightstand, and instantaneously I smack it away. He has an unopened box of condoms, so either he has been expecting me to give in or– “It’s fine, just do it,” I croak. My fingers slip between the waistband and his flushed skin, stretching the sweatpants down, followed by his erection springing out: for someone who seems timid and bashful, the girthy cock clashes with his rosy-cheeked face and eagerness.

“Are you sure?” Suguru’s voice wavers, his digits hooking on my underwear, until I slide it to the side without pulling them off, exposing my dripping slit. His ears redden, and the embarrassment seeps into my shoulders when he stares at my nude figure, savoring the sight. I gasp, hold my breath, as the head of his cock nudges against the entrance and feel my inner walls stretch to accommodate him. He’s painstakingly slow, relishing the sensation of a cunt fluttering around him. Suguru’s mouth agape, half-lidded eyes stare into mine, he repeatedly mutters the word ‘fuck’ and I feel some sort of accomplishment. The moment he bottoms out, his groin pressing against me, his head buries in the crook of my neck, “God, I've dreamt about this,” the words slip through his rugged breathing.

With lazy slams, Geto rolls hips, his fingering holding on my thighs for their dear life; My brain decides to shut down: I lay head back into the pillow, close my eyes and fully immerse myself in heavenly passion. Those strong hands hold my hips still, as he shoves his full length inside me, before entirely sliding out and repeating several times. My cunt spasms on Suguru’s cock, I feel the veins running along his manhood throb against my walls, scraping the remaining sanity out of me.

“Fuck, faster,” I beg; He’s here to torture me and atone for my mistakes; Peeking under the lashes, I witness his pathetic expression, furrowed brows, clenched jaw, air whistling through the teeth while his eyes affixed on the spot where we’re connected.

“You’re so fuckin’ good, baby,” the words spill out of him piece by piece, scattering as he rolls his hips vigorously, hands clasped to my sides tighten, gradually bruising the skin underneath the digits; Geto’s arms flex, burly muscles clearly protrude; He rams his cock in me, the sound of damp skins smacking against each other echoes in the room. He leans forward, latching his lips around the perky nipple, sucking it like his livelyhood depends on it. My cunt clings to his cock, and with each thrust, he loses the composure: front teeth gently tug on the nipple, afterwards, he feverishly nibbles on the flesh around it, creeping up til those canine teeth sink into my neck. His hips don’t let up, rutting into my without a trace of coherence.

The rougher he gets, the quicker the ecstatic pleasure builds in the pit of my stomach; Within a minute or two, my finger desperately circles my clit, and the coil of orgasm unravels under the navel, washes throughout every fiber of my being. I attempt to cover my mouth and stifle my moans, but he swats it off, instead his hand holds my jaw, and his lips lock with mine. I helplessly mewl against his tongue.

Geto’s legs jitter, he frenziedly pulls out, to my disappointment, and with a few eager pumps, his palm squeezes the base as the ropes of white creamy fluid shoot on my body. He hoarsely pants, low whimpers sneaking in between the deep wheezes. My legs still tremble from the aftershock.

Spent, Suguru slumps at my side, his arm rests over his forehead, nostrils flare as he regains steady breathing. I prop myself on elbows, line index finger on my stomach, scooping the milky substance on, and smearing it on my tongue.

“What a waste,” the eyes that have been glued to me, widen in shock; The laugh reverberates from his throat.

“Fuck, don’t do that, I’ll get hard again,” Suguru pulls himself up and off bed, tiptoeing to the nightstand on the other side. He hands me a couple of wet napkins, and with one in hand, glides it on my skin. As he’s eagerly cleaning up the hot mess he has created, my eyes burn holes on his face, delighted by the sight. Sculpted jawline, rose-tinted lips, silky black hair curtaining the pale face. Hand reaches under his chin, but the doorbell at the door snatches his beauty away from my fingers.

“You get the door, I’ll clean up,” I insist, crumpling the napkin.

A slim hand turns the doorknob, and to his surprise, the white-haired male grins from ear to ear. Without an invitation, the guest barges inside, leaving the host to hang open his mouth in silent response.

“Did I interrupt anything?” his long finger points at raven haired’s blotched neck with a vile grin. But before long, a smile fades from his face, he turns the head frantically and sniffs around, “the perfume,” his eyes bounce from the kitchen to the bedroom door.

“Satoru,” Geto’s voice breaks, lodges in his throat as Gojo swings the door wide open, only to be left with the sight of me, fully nude, prancing in front of the mirror, neck adorned with Suguru's desperation.

“Suguru…”

© stuck1nthelimbo; do not redistribute, repost, modify, or use in any way, form, and/or shape. re-translation by asking for permission first.

[rafetopia]

I just wanna clarify something real quick because I've seen some posts about it.

when we (I know im not speaking for everyone here but like from what I have noticed) say we find "dad" and "kid" weird in fics, we don't mean like the normal "jokingly" way. Those words are often used in sexual contexts combined with the fact that the reader often acts like a real kid with like extreme dumbification. I have seen fics where the reader doesn't even realize they are having basically sex and in combination with those nicknames, it just seems weird. If you are into that, then okay you do you. But the dynamic often feels like adult x kid and in my opinion, we have the right to say something about it on our blog if we think that it is weird.

No one (at least not to my knowledge) came into any inboxes directly to shame a writer for writing a fic like that or using those nicknames in any fic. We only expressed our personal opinion on our blogs and it's not our fault if you felt attacked or offended by that. We (also to my knowledge only) never attacked anyone personally and just expressed our discomfort with that. If you have a problem with that or feel offended, then you are free to unfollow or block, I can assure you I personally don't have a problem with that because it's your right.

I know we also have the option to unfollow or block and I have done that before but since those fics are showing up in the tags (which they have every right to) and some of them are not tagged or have those nicknames in the warnings, sometimes you can't avoid them. Besides just because I personally don't like the topics you are writing, doesn't mean I don't like you, or other stuff that you are posting)

Another thing is that there seems to be a big hype surrounding those names or dynamics suddenly and its okay if you like those fics then I'm happy for you but if its not your cup of tea then your pool for fanfics is becoming smaller and smaller. And before you come at me say "if you want something, then write it yourself or request it", yes that is an option but not all of us are writers and not everyone takes requests all the time and In my opinion, everyone has the right to be sad about the lack of something because ppl complain about the lack of certain characters all the time.

What I want to say with this post is that, if we express an opinion on our personal blogs, then it's not meant to offend you. Everyone has the right to express their opinion or feelings and if you don't like that, you can always unfollow. Just as you have the right to keep posting and writing what you like.

with that being said, I hope y'all have an amazing day and please don't feel offended by personal opinions that aren't directly sent into your inbox but made as normal posts to connect with people that feel the same about certain topics. There is always a difference between attacking someone personally (for ex. in their inbox) and posting your thoughts on your blog.

[lemotmo]

You certainly don't have to post this but I thought the answer was actually pretty good advice 😊

Q. Hello, I haven't been around the 911 fandom long but I think I may have gotten my hopes up about Tommy. It's increasingly clear that Oliver and Lou do not get on and I think I listened to wrong blogs and allowed myself to have expectations that don't appear to be likely. You do seem to understand the show pretty well so in your honest opinion do you think Tommy is sticking around?

A. Hello, anon. I wasn't going to answer this because I promised I wasn't going to post this kind of stuff anymore but I felt like you deserved an honest response. No, I don't believe he is sticking around. I do think we can safely assume that Oliver and Lou are not friendly with one another, but that's part of adulthood. We don't always get along with our coworkers. That's not the reason he's not sticking around though. What I would advise you to do is go back and listen to Oliver's interviews from last season. You can also read Lou's interviews that came out immediately following episode 4, those were show sanctioned interviews so the content would have been approved, unlike his cameo content. They all describe the relationship the same way. A temporary, introductory relationship. It was never billed or promoted, by Oliver or the show, as anything else. Oliver's lead is the one everyone should have been following. I know the consensus seems to be that Oliver doesn't interact with or engage in any B/T content because he doesn't like all the nastiness that surrounds everything now, and doesn't ship the relationship himself. While I think those things are true I think another part of it is that Oliver didn't want to give people false hope. He has spoken on this before in relation to Buddie content. He doesn't want to come across as encouraging something he can't promise. And in this case everyone said was temporary. There is no need for him to engage with the ship. I think he saw certain people were becoming attached and he didn't want to encourage them because he knows it's not going to be anything. I don't mean that in any kind of mean way, anon. But the reality is a certain group of shippers got carried away with something completely separate from what Oliver and the show were saying and they allowed that thing to frame their viewpoint of everything else. Pay attention to Oliver, anon. He is the one who will be honest with you. His silence pretty much tells you all you need to know. I'm sure that's not the answer you were hoping for but it's my honest opinion. Take care of yourself. 💗

Thank you Nonny! I will post this, because this post doesn't have anything to do with the fandom itself.

This is a post about the two actors, Tommy as a character and whether or not he'll stick around in season 8. I'm perfectly fine with topics like this.

This also ties in nicely with a post I made earlier today where an anon asked me a question about the BT pairing and whether or not it had a chance to be endgame.

A lot of the points Ali makes here are the same points I made in that post. The only difference is that she does it so much more eloquently.😉 If anyone is interested in that post, you can find it here.

IMPORTANT! Please don't repost this ask and/or a link that leads straight to my Tumblr account on Twitter or any other social media. Thank you!

Heads up! For anyone who is giving me the shifty eyes for reposting Ali's updates instead of reblogging. Read this.

Remember, no hate in comments, reblogs or inboxes. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of Ali’s posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

[fermentedfanfics]

the cottage on the hill.

hey cuties here’s another au fic, i feel like aus are the only things i write these days?? i just have a lot of ideas i want to insert loki into lmfao. ummmm i simply did no research on this genre whatsoever so i’m really sorry if it kind of sucks or is a little all over the place?? let me know what y’all think! <3 also, there’s going to be instances of mentioning of reader’s father’s initials on items, it will be done so as (F.I) thank you cuuuttiiiieeessss. this fic series is explicit and for 18+ audiences, minors dni.

summary: reader lives in the hills outside her local village, close to the fae border. after a fateful encounter with a black cat, she accidentally invites the fae king into her home. warnings: (for future chapters) fem!reader, smut, fear kink, praise kink, piv sex, unprotected sex, different time era, kinda obsessed loki? not kinda, he is obsessed, i’ll add more as the series progresses. word count: 4.1k tag list: @colorsunimaginable @huntress-artemiss (please reply below if you want to be added to the tag list for this fic series!) part two (will link once posted.)

“You should move into the village.”

You’ve heard the sentence plenty of times, over and over again– and at this point it’s a nuisance. But the old woman in front of you, her serious tone, you know you cannot laugh and wave her off. Not Meredith. Your fingers dig into the handle of your woven basket, placing four nice, round apples (the last of her order) into her hands– she sharply thrusts the six copper and one silver coins it cost her into your hands. “The hills are not safe.” Meredith grumbles, her one eye that hasn’t gone blind is shooting beady daggers into your soul.

You thickly gulp and shakily nod your head, tucking the coins into the small pack sewn to the hip of your dress. “Yes, Meredith. I’m making arrangements.” You lie, and she knows you’re lying to drop the topic. But before she can barrage you again with eerie warnings of your home, your heels have turned and you’re on your way. You thank her profusely of her patronage, but you must be on your way. Household chores and the lot.

You’ve actually not much to do today, but you desperately do not wish to sit and listen to Meredith and her outlandish stories of the fae. You were smarter than she thought, you knew to stay home and never wander. Ever since the passing of your father, the village has grown more concerned about you living in the hills all by yourself.

With nothing much else going on in their lives, it’s expectant for them to bud their noses into other’s lives and gossip– you didn’t think this much though.

“Y/N!” Gareth, a tall townsman that you’ve found yourself day-dreaming about on multiple occasions, catches your attention just as you are to leave the village. His frame towers you, and his dirty blond hair is messy from work, sticking to his forehead in the sweltering heat of the day. “Heading home already?” He muses.

You smile, nodding slightly. “Only a few deliveries today.” Gareth looks you over, your basket almost empty, odd for someone about to head home. “May I walk you?” He offers, but before you can even think you’re declining his offer and absconding.

You aren’t sure what possesses you to isolate yourself from the town, but ever since your father’s passing you’ve found yourself uncomfortable with any sort of bonding the people of the village offer you. Even from someone you fancy.

It’s an hour's time from your home to the village, you hope to be home before the sun sets. While you aren’t afraid of walking home in the dark, your trusty dagger tucked to your hip and out of sight, you also didn’t want to deal with the troubles night brought. The warm, summer wind kissed your cheeks and cooled the sweat forming on your forehead, thankful you weren’t nearly as heated as you could be.

Following the brown beated trail from your house to the village, you kept notes of your surroundings. The birds that flew ahead, the rabbits that hopped around you– if you had your traps you’d make the effort to catch some for dinner. You thought of tempting one with kindness and taking your blade to it, but you didn’t want to waste daylight.

The forests around you whispered ancient tongues directed towards everything but you about you, just as they were taught to. Where you were, who you spoke with, what you were doing– they knew far too well who would be asking these questions. But they didn’t have to, he was already there– watching.

You listened to the crunching of the leaves and sticks below your feet, enjoying the day's walk. If you were in your right mind, you would have taken Gareth up on his offer to walk you home, but there was something different. Something wrong. You could feel it in your gut, and your father always told you to never ignore a gut feeling.

Picking up your pace, the strange feeling relaxed a bit as you could see the faded, moss-overgrown roof of your home. You could practically feel the comfort of your rocking chair once the stone fencing of your house came into view, shoulders slumping. 

Digging into your basket, you pulled an apple from it. Turning it to the side, you eyed the small, brown, bruise that made the woman that you tried to sell it turn it away. You felt lucky the apples trees lining the forest near your home had decided to bear fruit this soon, but a bit bitter at the expectations from the villagers. The trees were there when you were born, they weren’t going to be perfect every year.

Pulling your dagger from it’s sheath, you carefully cut the bruise from it and began to cut the apple in half, then into quarters and so on. You were left with dingy, but still edible apple slices, popping them into your mouth as you completed your trip. The sweet juice was satisfying.

Without warning, a sudden loud chatter pulled you from your thoughts. Your dagger slipped from your hands from the startle, looking down to see a beautiful, sleek black cat staring at you. He seemingly came from no where, or at least snuck up on you while you hadn’t noticed. “Oh!”

He was possibly the most beautiful cat you’ve ever seen in your life, your heart instantly swelling. Black cats were a parah amongst the villagers, harbringers of bad luck, death, and everything terrible. It wasn’t uncommon to see the instant death of black cats– it was one of the reasons you didn’t want to move to the village.

Squatting to your knees, you held your hand out to the cat, beckoning it. “Hello pretty kitty..” A smile curled to your lips as he dipped his head into your palm, purring. Oh, what a way to end the day. However, just as quickly as he turned sweet, he instantly turned sour.

The cat snapped at your hand, nipping your palm with his sharp teeth. You shouted, wincing in pain as you fell back onto your backside. “Fuck!” You cursed, looking down at the small bite mark in your hand, light dribbles of blood pooling from the wound. Well, suppose there was a reason people were wary of black cats.

Before you could react, he swiftly picked your dagger into his mouth, blade hanging out. In an instant, he was a black blur in the wind. “No! No, no, no– please!” Your voice immediately cracked, standing to your feet in an instant to chase. But it was no use, the minute the cat ducked behind the apple trees and into the forest your run came to a stuttering halt. Your chest rose, a burning sensation flaming across your skin and tears pricking your eyes.

Your father’s dagger, his prized dagger– the one he made himself and gifted you just days before his untimely death, it was gone. Just like that. Falling onto your bottom once more, you heaved at the sky. “Fuck!!” You shouted.

What would a cat want with a dagger anyway?

It was dark by the time you picked yourself help and dragged yourself into your home, tears streaking your cheeks. You cried hard and long in front of those trees, your grief gripping you by the throat with a strong vice. You’d thought you were okay. Yes, you were broken by your father’s death, alone with no one to protect or love you– but you’d stopped the crying weeks ago!

You were frustrated at how easily your sobs came back due to something so simple. Sniffling, you closed and locked your wooden door before heading to the kitchen. You needed to eat. A solemn expression settled on your face, and the ache that grew in your chest hummed painfully.

A soup would do good tonight, something comforting to pull you from this rut. Grabbing two large, chunky potatoes from the sack in the corner of your kitchen you placed them on the counter, ready to cut. Instinctively, you reached for your dagger to use and gasped when you felt it’s emptiness.

Shit.

Tears welled again, and your crumpled to the floor like a wet rag. Nothing had ever hurt so much.

Your little home filled with the sounds of your moaning sobs, weak sniffles and frustrated screams. You felt like a child having a tantrum, and all you wanted was your father. But even he couldn’t come to help.

You cried yourself to a short slumber.

Thump. Thump. Thump!

You jolted. Eyes bleary from the tears, you confusedly blinked them. Was that the door? Pushing yourself up off the floor, you wiped your wet face with the sleeve of your dress. Seems you didn’t sleep that long, it was still dark outside– just how late into the night was it?

Thump. Thump. Thump!

“Gods! Who…who would be here..?” You whispered to yourself, picking yourself up off the floor as you tried to make yourself look presentable and not like you hadn’t just crumpled into a mess of a woman. Wiping your hair from your face, you quickly rounded the corner of your kitchen to your front door.

The strange feeling that fluttered your stomach on your walk home returned, making you hesitate in opening the door. Unsure of the feeling, you took a step back from the door, staring at it warily. Perhaps you had heard wrong?

Thump. Thump. Thump!

Christ your candles were still lit, they knew you were home. You didn’t wish to deal with an intruder or burgler, let alone someone coming in to do you harm. You didn’t have your dagger, but you surely had your kitchen knives.

Running back to the kitchen, you quickly grabbed one and slid back to the door. Hiding it behind the door, you finally slid the wood slab that kept it locked away and creeked it open, peaking your head out. “..Yes?” Your voice wavered slightly.

You were surprised at the stature of the stranger in front of you, noting how you actively had to look up. He wore a hooded cape that hid most of his upper torso, the hood settled atop his head and slightly covering his face. It was dingy and slightly torn, little holes littering hte hems indicating how long he’d been using it for. His boots were covered in mud, as if he traveled far. You squinted your eyes at him.

“Can I help you, sir?”

“My lady,” He grinned, cunning and wicked. Your stomach twisted.

“I’m terribly sorry to bother you so late into the night, but, I was passing– and noticed the initials etched into your home.” Despite his attire, he was eloquently spoken. You gripped your knife tighter, trying to keep a calm face.

“Are you perhaps, F.I?”

“I am. What is it to you?” You were stern, this caused him to chuckle. It was deep, almost mesmerizing.

“Then, I believe this belongs to you.”

The stranger then reached his hand out, and you tensed. You were expecting something terrible; a curse, a dagger ready to rob, anything bad that would befall you and make you meet your end tonight. You were correct, in a sense, but the dagger in his hand made you gasp.

You didn’t even think when you dropped the knife, the clatter not reaching your ears as you opened your door wider and grabbing it from his much larger hands. “My dagger!” You heaved, the smile of relief that washed over your features make him smile wider.

The handle was carved beautifully out of wood, wrapped in a thin leather for grip. But in the blade, an engraving stood out. F.I. Your father’s dagger was back in your hands. “Gods! I never thought I’d see this again. Sir, thank you! Where did you ever find it?” Your wide eyes looked back up at him.

“Well, I found it quite odd to see a cat carrying such a thing. It dropped it when I scared it, so I kept it– just in case. And on my travels to the next village over,” He motioned towards the one you had just came back from. “I saw your home, and your initials.”

Your heart raced with excitement and joy, pure, unbridled joy. The sadness you had felt had washed away, and was replaced with a happy melancholy. Your father was still gone, but it was like he’d returned home.

Your fingers grazed the blade, looking it over. It was undamaged, surprisingly. “How could I ever thank you?” You whispered, your mistake.

The stranger held back his wide smile, sharp teeth gritting with delight. He knew not to get too excited, not too giddy. Good things come to those who are patient afterall.

Dipping his head slightly, he cleared his throat. “If it’s no trouble to you, madam, would you be so kind as to offer this traveller a meal? To ready him for his continued travels?” He innocently asked.

Looking up at him, you thickly swallowed. A stranger, in your home. Your mind, body, and soul were on different paths. Your gut said no, turn him away and call it a night. But, your heart, oh your weakness. He had kindly given you back your beloved dagger, even though he could have kept it for himself because of how well it was made. A meal was nothing to you, nothing.

Biting your lip, you peaked at the knife on the ground. Norns. “Yes!” You almost shouted, clearing your throat. “One moment.”

When you shut the door of your house, you looked down at the dagger for a moment before tucking it into it’s sheath on your hip. You picked up the knife that had made it’s way to the floor and tried your quickest to put it back into the kitchen. You hadn’t even started dinner, but the soup you were to make would do just fine.

Back to the door, you opened it and this time fully opened it, allowing the stranger access to your home. “Please, come in.” You offered with a wry smile.

The stranger graciously accepted your offer, stepping into your small, cozy little home. Your scent engulfed him, and he had to turn away from you for a moment. You’d already turned your back to him, heading back to the kitchen. “There’s not many places to sit, other than the table and my chair. Feel free to get comfortable if you wish, I’ll be making dinner then.” You wave your hand at him.

He takes your advice and melts into your chair, almost radiating in the fact that it was yours. He was delighted, gleeful in fact. You’d been much dumber than he expected, but it was with charm. Your back turned to him, he greedily took in your backside and bottom as you began to chop away at vegetables; potatoes, carrots, peppers– anything to add to the soup. It wasn’t going to be much.

“So, my lady. What does F.I stand for?” He mused.

You bit your lip, rolling your shoulders slightly. “I’ll admit that I lied to you. They are my father’s initials, not mine.” You admitted, dumping the potatoes into a pot of water you had prepped before you fell asleep. You’d have to go out and get some chicken feet to add flavor so you weren’t just feeding him vegetables and water.

“Ahhh, a little liar on my hands?”

“Well, I didn’t know who you were!” You defended yourself.

“And your name?”

“What about it?”

He grinned, so you were a tad bit informed. “May I have it?” His question was so simple, and very innocent. He was good at making your skin crawl, your forehead sweat, and your abdomen warm. Strange, indeed. You remembered what Meredith told you. Never give your name to a stranger, they’ll take it for good. “No..” You sighed.

You jumped when he burst into laughter, haughty and loud. You’d almost nicked yourself with the knife when he did, looking over your shoulder with confusion. “You are very smart, madam! Suppose I should stop testing you.” Testing for what? You wondered.

“What is your name, my lady?” He finally asked, like a normal person. You were beginning to believe he wasn’t a normal person, and the thought alone made you shudder. “What is yours?” You asked instead.

“Loki.”

“Loki?” You reiterated, it was a foreign name certainly. One you’ve never heard.

He liked the way his name rolled off your tongue, and the fact that you simply didn’t realize who he was by name only elated him. Were humans forgetting? Becoming more stupid? Loki revelled in the thought of what the future would bring.

“Yes, Loki. Now I’ve told you mine, you must tell me yours!”

You chewed on your bottom lip. “Y/N.” You huffed curtly.

Loki already knew your name, the trees whispered your secrets to him. It’s why he knew everything about you, why he loved you.

“I must step out to my coop for an ingredient, try not to mess with anything.” You simply stated as you walked across from your kitchen to the back door by the chair he had so comfortably plopped himself in. You wiped your hands onto your apron before opening the door and stepping out. You just needed some chicken feet.

When you returned, you instantly noticed Loki was no longer in the seat he was in. Before you could panic, you finally noticed him leaning over the pot of water and vegetables. 

“I told you not to mess with anything.” You almost scolded him, a hint of faux-ire in your voice. You tossed the chicken feet you’d acquired into the water, looking up at him. He seemed dissatisfied with what you were making, and it made you upset. Sure he returned your dagger, but he was a guest and you were genuinely going out of your way to feed him.

No traveller would be this picky.

“I was wondering if you’d planned on feeding me just water and vegetables.” He taunted.

“And I was just thinking no traveller would be this picky.”

His silence chilled you to your core as you picked up the pot, huffing at it’s weight. You struggled to bring it over to the fire hole in the center of your home. With effort, you were able to plop the pot right over the fire– it would be a bit before it was done. This left you with some time with Loki, and your skin itched at the idea.

You melted at the dining table your father had also made, a soft sigh escaping your lips. Loki joined you, sitting across. His hood was still on, despite his comfort in your chair he had not made any advances to relax.

“Where do you hail from, Loki?” You finally asked him a question, one you should have asked long ago. The strange feeling in your gut did not leave whatsoever, in fact it only worsened. The hairs on the back of your neck stood when he was near, and his voice sent chilly vibrations throughout your body. You weren’t quite sure if you were afraid, or attracted to him.

“Asgard, and I assume you hail here?”

You couldn’t tell if Loki was lying or not. With everything he said, you just weren’t sure what to take at face value. It was what bothered you the most about him, he was a wall you seemingly couldn’t knock down. You weren’t sure you wanted to.

“Yes. My whole life.” You admitted.

“And where is your father?” The question stung, and Loki knew it did.

You’d remembered and grieved your father’s death far too many times today, your face said it all. Nose slightly scrunched, brows furrowed in such a miserable sense– it almost made Loki want to jump from where he was and hold you.

With watery eyes, you coughed slightly to cover it. You looked away, over to the pot checking it hadn’t boiled over. “He’s dead.” You quaked. This night wasn’t how you planned and you wanted it to end instantly.

But looking over his figure, his large hands with long, delicate fingers– he’d overpower you easily should the night go awry. You admit you were scared of Loki, deeply afraid. His mere presence evoked a trigger in your flight or fight responses, and you wanted to fly.

“That is a shame truly, to leave a lovely daughter all alone. With no one.”

His words were a stab to the heart, breaking you down. You abruptly stood from your seat, clearing your throat. “The..soup.” You motioned over to it, your excuse for leaving. Hastily making your way over, you grabbed a large wooden spoon from the kitchen and began to stir. It finished much faster than you anticipated, but you were glad it was. The sooner he ate, the sooner he left– right?

Loki watched you carefully as you walked from the kitchen to the pot again like a ghost, two bowls in hand. You first filled his, the broth a nice brown-ish colour from the cooked chicken– and when you handed it to him you held up your hand for one moment.

You returned from the kitchen with a loaf of bread, breaking a piece for him. He gratefully took it. You then made your own bowl and joined him once again at the table, exhausted. Loki ripped a piece off the bread you’d given him, dipping it into the hot liquid before taking a bite. A hum escaped his chest, as if he were a starved man eating for the first time in weeks.

Starved but picky? His strange aura eluded you. “Much better than I expected, this will get me through the night, madam.” He grinned, almost as if he wanted to taunt you to anger– to do something not in your right mind.

What was the point in sharing names if he was just going to call you madam and lady? You weren’t even a lady, the state of your home made that clear. Tearing off a piece of bread, you silently dipped it into your soup and took a bite. Much to your surprise, he was right.

The soup was delightfully flavourful, instantly warming your core. Your mouth watered as you swallowed the broth soaked bread, picking up one of the smaller wooden spoons you’d grabbed for the two of you to eat with. You scooped up a chunk of potato, slurping it down with a bite of bread and as you chewed you began to realize there was something off about the soup.

You wanted to panic, to stop eating, but you didn’t. You kept eating it, because it was delicious. It was the most delicious soup you’d ever made, and you were a pretty good cook. Your mind ran wild with how something so simply put together tasted so good that you didn’t notice Loki had finished, and was watching you devour the soup and bread like you were the one starved.

When you finished the soup, you couldn’t stop the sigh of content that released from your chest. You felt warm, fuzzy, and sleepy. A tired you’d never felt before. You chalked it up to eating such a hot dinner on such an emotional night, but you knew you were going to sleep heavily afterwards. You looked forward to it.

Loki standing up pulled you from your daze, your tired eyes looking up at him. “Thank you for the meal, my lady. But I must take to the night.” He told you holding out his hand. Without much thought, you slipped your hand into his. Loki brought your knuckles to his lips, placing a chaste kiss upon them. Your brows flew up in surprise at the sentiment, the skin where he’d kissed feeling hot as well as your cheeks and ears. This was unexpected.

“Oh, it’s alright– please.” You awkwardly pulled your hand from his, stepping aside to lead him to the door. A part of you was jumping with glee that he was leaving so soon.

“If it’s no mind to you, when I am finish with my duties in the village, may this traveller come back for another meal tomorrow night?”

His question did not have time to linger before you agreed without thinking, wishing you’d bit your tongue. With a grin, Loki let himself out and was gone into the night. You closed the door, sliding the lock into place.

You stared at the door for a moment, then wavered to the bedroom in the back– it was your father’s bedroom now turned yours. You plopped into the bed, softly grunting as your body collided with the fluffy blanket. Your body was burning, and your head was elsewhere. That soup did a number on you, and as you thought back to seeing Loki leaning over the pot, you drifted into a deep slumber for the rest of the night.