#and then acts purposefully obtuse

[gamblegun]

The talk I see sometimes here and there about trans men "fearing emasculation" really is being so purposefully obtuse, that it feels almost like gaslighting to even acknowledge it as an argument worth even responding to. Like, trans men "fear emasculation", as in they get upset at being misgendered and disrespected, like literally any other trans person? They have trauma around being forcefully feminized? They fear retaliation from their cis peers if they don't act a certain way? What? What are you even saying? That the implications of emasculation are completely the same across all demographics of men and it's never racist or dehumanizing, and it's always punching up no matter what? That trans men are paradoxically a suspiciously easy target and also toxic mennists who deserve to be humiliated and taken down a peg? What?

[leonardcohenofficial]

remember when (white) music men on the internet were acting as if laufey's growing popularity was the ultimate reason to start both hating on her and gatekeeping jazz; is laufey the gen Z savior of jazz? doubtful. is her type of vocal pop very clearly influenced by midcentury jazz, bossa nova, musical theatre and movie musical scores, etc., as well as reflective of her years of training and musical knowledge? yes. it's also quite good music and she knows what she's talking about which i think threatens people who view "pop" as an entirely flattening or dismissive signifier. i don't really care about the jazz/not jazz debate (and people citing the marsalis definition i think are also often being purposefully obtuse + resistant to music that doesn't fit his very narrow neotraditional view of the genre—by his standards much of spiritual and free jazz wouldn't "count" but i digress) when people are using it as a distraction or smokescreen to avoid talking about the actual quality of the music which as previously stated, i think when it comes to laufey is very good and i look forward to hearing what she does next

[penny00dreadful]

And They Were Roommates! - Complete

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 AO3

Steve wasn’t gonna act on it. 

Eddie had just gotten out of a bad fucking relationship, he was still finding himself.

He was enjoying himself kissing strangers.

And Steve was around all the time so it was probably just a proximity thing.

A safety thing. 

Maybe. 

He didn’t know.

The only thing he did know was that if Robin heard him thinking like that she’d probably dunk his head in cold water and tell him to stop being purposefully obtuse.

He frowned. 

He wasn’t being obtuse.

He was just… he couldn’t make sense of why Eddie would be interested in him.

They were… they were roommates who had always been at each other's throats. 

Everything they did irritated each other. 

There was tension in the apartment, but that was because of the… because of the animosity.

Right?

Right.

Steve frowned to himself, leaning up against the counter of the coffee shop. 

It was a slow evening, things moving at a snail's pace and all he wanted to do was go home but he was stuck here for another hour at least.

Eddie was at home and while he would find it more difficult to figure things out between them when he was surrounded by him, at least he wouldn’t be at work.

“I can smell your hair frying.” Robin poked at him, passing by on her way out towards the staff room. She was finished her shift now. She got to go home.

Steve scowled at her. 

“Don’t say such terrible things about my hair.”

He couldn��t see it but he could feel her eye roll through the back of her head as she disappeared out the door. 

He turned his gaze back down to the floor, his arms crossed in front of him and he had nearly gone back to his glazed over thinking state when a figure passed by in front of the counter.

He looked up and felt a smile tugging at his lips.

“Hi Chrissy.”

Chrissy grinned up at him, golden hair bouncing around her shoulders, a vision in preppy pastels. 

“Hi Steve.”

“What can I get you?”

“Oh, um,” Chrissy’s face went a little red, “I’m not actually here for coffee. I’m here to pick up-”

“Chris!” 

Steve turned his laser gaze onto Robin as she bounced out of the staff room doorway, a wide smile on her face.

It was the tone of voice she used to say Chrissy’s name. 

That was her enamoured tone.

He narrowed his eyes at her, arms still crossed over her chest.

Well, well, well. 

He could see Robin’s shoulders tensing, her back to him and he knew that she knew that he knew.

He put on his best pathetic frown as she turned to face him, apprehension in her eyes that quickly dropped into an eye roll when she saw his face. 

Without another word she left him behind the counter on his own, her nose in the air as an over the top dramatic gesture to tell him she didn’t care if he knew now, but that was a lie, it was all a out on act, to keep the mood light and to try and offset any bad feelings about this.

Steve didn’t need to know why she had kept the relationship a secret. If he could take a guess and he would, it would be that both she and Chrissy didn’t feel like treading through the minefield that was telling their respective besties that they were dating, especially when those respective besties were roommates who hated each other.

Or well.

Roommates who pretended to hate each other but in actuality had big giant crushes on each other and were refusing to act on it for some reason. 

Well, Steve knew why he wasn’t acting on it. Whatever about Eddie’s reasons, Steve knew that he was still in a little bit of denial about it. 

They had been so contentious with each other for such a long time, where was the guarantee that it wasn’t all going to fall apart once the lust was gotten out of the way?

Say they did fuck about it?

What then?

Would they go their own separate ways?

Would they have to continue to live with each other and the awkwardness of what just happened until neither of them could bear it anymore and they went their separate ways never to talk again?

Or what if… What if it did work?

What if they actually… like… worked together. 

What then?

Steve would have to admit to everyone that he was wrong about Eddie, about how irritated he was about him and how much he didn’t pay attention to him.

But Eddie would also have to admit he was wrong about Steve.

Eddie would have to admit he didn’t find Steve as detestable as he had said he had in the past. He’d have to admit he liked Steve.

He’d have to admit that he was wrong.

Along with Steve. 

Steve tapped his finger against his bicep, arms crossed as he stared at Chrissy and Robin cuddled up together in a back booth, not really seeing them, things running too quickly through his head to really even be seeing them.

“You gonna jump on that yet, dude?” A hand came down to clap on his shoulder and Steve jumped. Mark cut his eyes over to Robin and Chrissy then back to him.

Steve had to suppress an eye roll.

“Yeah, I’ll jump right on it.” He replied, thinking of stupid brown curls and stupid big bambi eyes and stupid fingers and rings and tattoos. 

Okay, that may have been a lie.

He didn’t jump right on it. 

He had gotten home from work and found Eddie stretched across the couch with a book in his lap and a steaming mug of tea next to him and Steve could do nothing but frown.

He had stalked straight over to put his hands on his hips and glare down at Eddie who slowly dragged his eyes up from his book with the kind of laziness that screamed of him doing it on purpose just to be a bitch about it. 

“Can I help you, sweetums?”

Steve didn’t respond, just continued to glare, pointedly picking Eddie’s mug up and slipping a coaster underneath, never once breaking eye contact before gesturing to it with the kind of flamboyant limp wristed flare that was almost comical.

Eddie just watched him with a deadpan stare.

“Oh yes, of course.” He said with batting eyelashes. “We must keep the coffee table that I found at the side of the road in pristine condition.”

“It wouldn’t fucking kill you, would it?”

“Maybe not my body, honey. But my soul would be languishing.” 

“Then let it languish. And put a fucking coaster down. No one is going to take away your tortured poets card for it, Dickinson.”

Steve turned on his heel and stormed out to his room, ignoring Eddie’s scoff at his back.

Like, what else was he supposed to do after that?

Just kiss him?

He didn’t think Eddie would have reacted very well to him just climbing into his lap.

Though maybe he would have. 

Steve would never know, because he didn’t do it. 

And he wasn’t going to do it. 

“Have you kissed him yet?”

Steve closed his eyes and rapped himself a few times on the forehead with the handset of the phone before taking a big breath and bringing it back to his ear.

“No, Robert, I haven’t.”

“Don’t hit me with Robert, Stevana, just because you can’t get your dick out of your pants when you want to.”

“Who says I want to?”

“I do.” Robin growled through the phone. “I am the other half of your soul, bitch I know you want to.”

Steve frowned and though Robin couldn’t see it, he was pretty sure she could just sense it. Like he was sending vibes through the phone.

He heard her open her mouth again and he cut her off before she could continue to tell him things he knew but didn’t want to hear.

“Moving on. We were talking about how much I can tell my head-wrecking roommate about your current…” he gleaned around, even though he was pretty sure Eddie was still fast asleep in his room. “Situation.”

“Situation.” Robin huffed. “It’s not a situation, it’s a relationship.”

“Oh wow, really?” Steve snarked back, letting the sarcasm flow freely. “I had no idea. Oh my god, a relationship. Oh gosh-golly-gee. A relationship. Well let me ring the wedding bells, oh happy day, my girl is getting married.”

“Fuck off, Steven.” Robin snapped back, even though she was clearly smiling. 

“Who’s getting married?”

Steve jumped and turned his head to find Eddie right next to him. 

He could feel the heat radiating off his body, still sleep warm. His smell was concentrated, a hundred percent Eddie, strong from hours spent cosy under the sheets, smelling like comfort and cotton and something completely indescribable that only he had. 

His eyes were still a little heavy and a little dazed, his hair was a mess, somehow defying gravity and the oversized shirt he’d worn to bed was slipping down, exposing one shoulder, hanging loose off of his frame and Steve had the almost irresistible impulse just to hug him, as ridiculous as that sounded. 

He very quickly snapped his head back to stare at the wall and he said, almost robotically into the phone, “Eddie’s right next to me.”

“Don’t tell him anything!” She screeched out, so loud that Steve could see Eddie’s mouth curl up in a grin, latching onto information he now knew he wasn’t supposed to have.

“What can’t you tell me, sweetheart?” Eddie asked, pressing himself closer, right up against Steve, trying to get his hearing within range of the phone.

Steve felt his breath catching ever so slightly, Eddie’s warmth was seeping into him through his clothes, how was he still so warm? The long line of his lean body up against him and a hand clasped around his wrist to pull the phone a little closer and Steve was going insane.

“Steven, hang up the phone right now!” Robin screeched again, knowing, somehow knowing that Steve was in danger of letting everything spill out if Eddie only asked right or that she herself, as nervous and jittery as she was, would accidentally blurt it out. “Hang u-!”

Steve slammed his free hand down on the switchhook, immediately cutting Robin off as the dial tone rang out.

Eddie dropped himself back down onto his heels. He had a little petulant frown on his face and he was batting those long fucking eyelashes again, but Steve was sure he didn’t even know he was doing it this time.

“You’re no fun.” Eddie said, with a pushed out bottom lip that Steve was suddenly and wildly desperate to get into his mouth. 

“It’s not my information to tell.” Steve muttered back, holding out the handset to Eddie. “You’re off work today, right?”

Eddie blinked at him, his eyebrows crinkled up in confusion and a little apprehension as he took it from Steve’s hand.

“Yeah?”

Steve nodded. 

“Call Chrissy.”

Eddie’s eyebrows immediately flew up in alarm and Steve had to rush to reassure him. 

“Nothing’s wrong!” He said, squeezing his hands around Eddie’s shoulders. “You just… she needs to talk to you about something.”

“That definitely doesn’t sound like nothing’s wrong.”

“No, it’s…” He rubbed his hands down Eddie’s arms until he was grasping him gently around the elbows. “It’s good news.”

Eddie searched his eyes for a moment before looking down at where Steve was still touching him and then looking back up with slightly pink cheeks. 

Steve felt his own face heating up and he snatched his hands back. When had he started touching Eddie, what the hell?

“Y- yeah.” He said, taking a step back. “Good news. So you should- just call her, I guess.” 

And with that, he turned his back, practically running back into his room and slamming the door behind him, throwing himself down on his bed and all but screaming into his pillow.

“They’re together.”

Eddie slammed his way back into the apartment and Steve had to press his fingers into his temples at the pure irritation coming out of him because remember to close the fucking door softly like a normal person for Christs sake!

“They’re together.” Eddie hissed again, throwing himself down into the chair at the dining table across from Steve. “And she didn’t tell me.”

“She just told you, you fucking drama queen.”

Eddie huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. Steve could hear him bouncing his leg, rattling the chains he constantly had hanging off of him. “Yeah. Because your good Judy told you first even though they both know you’re terrible at keeping secrets.”

“Okay.” Steve sat up straighter, leaning his elbows on the table and pointed at Eddie. “One. Robin did not tell me. I saw what I saw when they were both in front of me at the coffee shop and I inferred. Correctly. So keep your hair on. And two,” he raised a second finger, “I’m great at keeping secrets-”

“No, you’re not.” Eddie snapped back with his hands flat against the table.

“Yes, I am!”

“Really, Mary?”

“Yes, really!”

“What secrets are you keeping right now?”

Steve sucked his lips into his mouth.

I’m keeping secrets like I want to stick my tongue down your throat.

I want you to rip the clothes from my body and devour me whole.

I want you to stick your dick in my ass or my mouth.

I want to bend you over the couch and make you scream.

They were leaning over the table towards each other, the both of them bent at the waist and snarling. Steve blinked before heavily lowering himself back down to his chair.

“Nothing.”

But Eddie’s expression was wild and bright, a grin spreading over his face and he leaned even further forward.

“See? That’s what I’m talking about! You look like you’re fit to burst. You’re hiding something.”

“Am not.”

“Are too!”

Steve frowned, refusing to entertain the interrogation any further. He stood, bringing his coffee cup over to the sink.

“Are you mad at them for being together or for not telling us straight away?”

He could hear Eddie sit back down behind him.

“Me and Chrissy don’t hide things from each other.”

“And Robin and I don’t hide things from each other.” Steve said, scrubbing out the inside of his cup. “But what was going to happen if they did tell us? We’d all just sit around and kiki together, have a gay old time in each other's company? They know how we feel about each other.”

“And how do we feel about each other, sweetheart?” Eddie asked, digging in.

Steve felt his whole body stiffen up and he knew Eddie’s eyes were boring into the back of his head.

“We don’t like each other.” He replied, almost automatically. 

Eddie hummed in consideration and it sounded a little closer than it had before.

“We don’t like each other.” Eddie repeated.

Steve turned his head to find Eddie leaning up against the dining table, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes snapping back up to meet Steve’s own a little too late from where they had been resting, firmly on his lovely bottom, if Steve had to guess.

Eddie watched as Steve watched him, the both of them staring in hard and deep, tension pulling tight like a string ready to snap, the lie of we don’t like each other reverberating around them in the silence. 

Something was starting to catch fire between them, Steve was starting to feel like he could hardly breathe when the shrill ringing of the phone broke it.

He exhaled, actually exhaled like the breath had been stolen from his body when Eddie’s eyes finally left his and he turned to walk down the hallway and pick up the phone.

“Hello?”

Steve couldn’t hear what was being said on the other line but he saw Eddie’s body sag against the wall. 

“No, I’m not mad at you, Chrissy. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have acted that way.”

Steve breathed in deep, clearing out his lungs and his head and left Eddie to have his conversation alone.

It honestly took a lot longer than he thought it would.

He could hear their quiet muttering for well over an hour and when he slipped out of the room to head out to the bathroom when he thought they’d finally finished, he found Eddie curled up comfortably on the floor with the phone cradled to his ear with the most bashful grin on his face, practically twisting his hair around his finger, like a stereotypical girl gabbing with her girlfriends. 

Eddie’s gaze snapped up to him, those wide brown doe eyes stared at him like he’d been caught out, his plush mouth going slack before snapping closed and his face lit up bright red.

He clutched the phone tight to his chest like Steve was about to snatch it out of his hands and find out his biggest secrets.

The hallway wasn’t terribly wide, so Steve was forced to step around Eddie, towering over him while he made his way around with one raised eyebrow. Eddie’s face got somehow even redder and Steve could hear him giggling down the phone as he closed the bathroom door.

The same thing happened just in reverse on his way back, Eddie still red faced and no longer able to keep his wide smile off his face while he hissed into the phone “Shut up, shut up.”

Just before Steve closed his bedroom door he could hear Eddie snap out with a false irritation “You’re gonna get me caught. And then what’ll happen, Chris?”

Steve didn’t know what Chrissy said in response but the screech that Eddie let out was enough to give him an idea.

He couldn’t help his own blush burning up his face after that one. 

If he was honest with himself he wasn’t brave enough to come out of his room for a while after that, but he did wrestle with the temptation to press himself up against his bedroom door and try to strain to hear anything that he could.

He eventually crammed a pair of headphones on and threw himself back onto his bed after the floor creaked loudly under him when he ventured a little too close. 

The rest of the week following… whatever it was that was happening between them had been a little stranger than usual.

There was the usual sniping and bitching but it almost always ended with one of them making a quick retreat after their faces got a little too red and they were staring at each other with blown pupils and short breaths.

It was driving him up the fucking wall.

He was playing it as cool as he could but he was getting to the point now where he was questioning why he was fighting it so hard.

Steve grumbled to himself, rubbing his eyes underneath his glasses and snapping out the newspaper in front of him, comfortable and settled on the couch. 

He tensed a little when he felt Eddie hovering like he’d taken to doing before and he wondered if he’d have to put up with the disappointment of telling Eddie he looked good for another night out of kissing strangers when all he really wanted to do was tell him that he could stay home and maybe kiss Steve if that’s what he wanted.

He frowned down at the words printed in front of him and did his best to ignore the burning stare he could feel Eddie giving him, waiting to be acknowledged, even as he heard the little huff of irritation, the fabric rustling as he crossed his arms, Steve refused to look up.

He was forced to look up, however, when the newspaper was snatched out of his hands. He turned his eyes up to glare but it was undercut by his surprise when Eddie swung a leg over and planted himself directly in Steve’s lap, knees either side of his thighs and arms slung around his neck.

The look in his eyes was almost challenging,

“Tell me I’m reading this wrong.”

Steve chose to maintain his glare but he still reached his hands out to grab at Eddie’s ass and pull him closer.

“No.”

Eddie settled his weight more firmly down across Steve’s thighs.

“Well, are you going to do something about it then?”

“And if I don’t?”

Eddie’s face split into a grin. “Oh,” he cooed with a little bite to his voice, “she’s feeling catty today.”

“Jesus Christ, shut up.”

Steve surged forward, finally, finally being able to get his mouth on those fucking lips he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about for weeks now.

It had been a while since Steve had kissed anyone. Not that he’d minded, really. It was a choice he had made for himself and he’d been happy with it.

But kissing Eddie was unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. 

He dove right in, nothing tentative or unsure about it, pulling Eddie’s body in close until they were flush with each other, pressing him in with enough force that it was surely making it a little difficult to breathe but he didn’t care and it seemed that Eddie didn’t either.

Eddie met him with just as much fervour. Maybe a little more, grabbing Steve by the hair and pulling him in, not giving him an inch to pull away.

His tongue wound its way into Steve’s mouth, dragging it over his own, licking in as deep as it could reach.

Steve closed his lips around it and sucked, pulling a surprised and ragged moan from Eddie’s chest that Steve quickly swallowed down along with the rest.

He felt feral, unhinged, like he wanted to devour him whole.

Which is probably why he chased after Eddie’s mouth with nothing short of a growl when he pulled away.

“Calm your tits, big boy. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Better not be.”

“I’m not. I…” Eddie’s fingers softened against the back of his head and he pulled his plump and shiny bottom lip into his mouth, a little hesitant.

“You..?” Steve prodded.

“I- you don’t do casual anymore, right?” He questioned, almost as if he expected Steve to turn around and say that he was just kissing Eddie for fun.

Which, like, he was. It was fun but that wasn’t the only reason.

“Right.”

“Okay. Good. Great, even.” Eddie looked down, apparently unable to handle looking Steve in the eye at that moment. “Because I don’t want casual with you.”

Steve removed a hand from Eddie’s ass, but only one. He was still human after all. He brought the hand up to brush along Eddie’s jaw, tipping his head back up to look at him. “I hadn’t intended on anything between us being casual.”

Eddie cocked an eyebrow at him, a bright fire of confidence seemed to overtake him again. 

The two of them were always pushing and pulling at each other, but it was less snappish animosity now and more snappy playfulness.

“Oh, so you’ve been giving this thought, have you?” Eddie leaned in a little further, ghosting his lips over Steve’s, leaving tingles in his wake and pulling back when Steve moved forward. “How long have you been thinking of me, sweetheart?”

“Far too fucking long for you to be teasing me right now.”

“Awh.” Eddie’s fingers curled into the hair at the back of his head again. “What are you going to do about it, sweetheart?”

“Nothing you don’t want me to do.” Steve was trying to stop his eyes fluttering closed and giving into the urge to either slam Eddie back into the couch or completely melt under his touch, because he had to let Eddie know.

He had to make sure Eddie knew he was safe with him because he still hadn’t forgotten, could never forget the state Eddie had come home in all that time ago.

“I’m not- I want you to tell me what you’re comfortable with.” Steve would have preferred if it had come out more solid and not as breathy as it had been but the sentiment was still there.

Eddie had frozen up for just a moment, his eyes wide and mouth slightly parted but Steve could feel it the second he started to melt on top of him.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

“Any time, baby.”

Eddie moved forward, leaning back in to continue kissing him but halted again, just a hair's breadth away.

“You’re not married are you?”

“No, Eds.” Steve grinned back. “I’m not married.”

“Okay good. Just checking.”

Any response Steve wanted to give was cut off when Eddie kissed him, hot and feverish and hungry.

Eddie was giving him all these little nips and bites, against his lips, over his jaw, down his neck. He sucked bruises into Steve’s skin like his life depended on it, always pressing a finger in as soon as he moved away until Steve was pretty sure he’d practically been given a necklace of hickies.

He had his hands under Eddie’s shirt, feeling the goosebumps rise up as he teased his touch over his skin, trying to find every little bump and divot he could figure out by feel alone.

Then he was being pulled away. 

Eddie’s hands were on his upper arms, spreading them wide and pushing them back until he had them stretched over the back of the couch.

“Keep those there for me, would you, honey?”

Steve blinked at him, trying to clear the fog from his head as Eddie stood. He dug his fingers into the back of the couch with a nod.

He was rewarded with a smile, a devious little thing that he knew would be the death of him, but he welcomed it regardless.

Eddie lowered himself to his knees, reaching for the buttons of Steve’s jeans before stopping.

“You okay with this?”

“Yes, yeah, Jesus fuck.” Steve dropped his head back, the sight of Eddie lording it over him while in between his legs was one of the most obscenely hot things he’d ever seen and he had no fucking idea how he was going to survive for longer than half a second inside his mouth.

There was a moment of relief as his zipper was pulled down, his painfully hard and dripping cock finally given some room to breathe, no longer constrained by denim.

Eddie dug his fingers into the waistband of Steve’s jeans and boxers.

“Up.”

Steve lifted his hips without complaint and in one swift movement, Eddie had his pants and underwear stripped down his legs until they were tangled around his ankles.

Leaning back in with a hungry look in his eye, Eddie placed a hand on either of Steve’s knees and pushed until they were spread as wide open as they could possibly be.

“Normally I’d tease you until you could barely remember where you were but I’m just feeling too damn impatient right now, big boy.”

With a merciless grip, Eddie wound his hand tight around Steve’s cock, licking a stripe up the length, digging his tongue into the vein at the back.

“As long-“ Steve gasped as Eddie started flicking his tongue over the head, “as long as I get to do this to you after.”

“Stevie-” he grinned, brushing his lips against Steve’s cock, “it would be my honour to let you suck my dick.”

“Eddie.” Steve breathed, letting his head fall back against the cushions, already so fucking close and barely holing on by a thread while Eddie continued to tease him.

Eddie sucked the tip of Steve’s cock into his mouth and gave a hum of a question, the vibrations crackling through Steve’s blood like an electric shock, jolting his hips upwards without his say so.

They were forced back down with a fiery glare and Eddie’s fingers digging into his flesh.

“Eddie,” Steve moaned again, unable to do anything else, squirming under his hold, “please.”

Eddie’s eyes rolled up ever so slightly, his own moan of pleasure following immediately after.

“God.” Eddie almost whispered out, letting his lips brush against the raw red tip of Steve’s cock. “Love hearing you beg, sweetheart. Do it again.”

Steve tried to swallow his whine down but it still came out, high and breathy and slutty.

Fine.

If Eddie wanted him to beg, he’d beg so pretty.

“Baby.” Steve whined, gripping at the couch cushions even harder. “Please. I need your mouth. Please, baby, please.”

Eddie grinned up at him. “Good boy.”

The words shot through him, hitting him right in the dick, the brain, the heart and he couldn’t help the “oh, fuck” that came out of his mouth when Eddie suddenly swallowed him down whole, right to the back of his throat.

With his hips pinned down he could do nothing but writhe in place, keeping his arms firmly across the back of the couch while Eddie sucked his entire soul out of his body through his dick.

“Baby, I’m gonna- if you don’t want-”

He was cut off when Eddie all but growled around him, taking him down as deep as he could, swallowing around him, locking him in tight and fuck it had been a while since Steve had anyone else’s hands on him, let alone their mouth and he fucking exploded.

With an embarrassingly thready cry, he came straight into the back of Eddie’s throat, hearing him gag a little at the suddenness of it which only made him cum harder.

Eddie’s eyes were closed in bliss as he rhythmically swallowed and Steve knew the feeling well. As soon as he was able to move his fucking legs again, he’d repay the goddamn favour and show him just what a reformed slut could do.

Eddie didn’t let up when he was spent though, continuing to suck and lick at him like he had nowhere else to be, until Steve had to squirm away, too sensitive and too eager to let it go on for much longer.

“How long has it been since someone touched you?” Eddie asked, resting his cheek against Steve’s thigh, a blissed out smile on his face. 

“A while.” Steve said, still a little breathless, running a hand through Eddie’s hair. “A good long while.”

“Shame.”

“Mhm. C’mere.”

With a gentle grip, Steve pulled him back up onto the couch, unable to stop himself from kissing him again, licking into his mouth and tasting himself there, though there was very little taste left. Apparently Eddie was diligent about getting all of it down his throat.

Steve kicked his pants off while Eddie unbuckled his own, lying back against the length of the couch, his hair fanned around his face and looking absolutely delicious.

The shape and size of the bulge in Eddie’s jeans slowly being revealed was already making Steve desperate to get his mouth on it. 

He let Eddie wiggle his own pants and boxers down without help. He didn’t want to touch until he was told he could. He still wanted to make sure Eddie knew he was in safe hands. 

Eddie met his gaze with soft eyes and a syrupy sweet smile. “Go ahead, sweetheart.”

Steve grinned back, lowering himself down to his elbows in between Eddie’s legs, snaking a hand around each of Eddie’s thighs using it as leverage to pull him closer. He hovered his mouth over Eddie’s dick, just the suggestion of a touch, fanning his breath over him and copying what was done to him earlier.

He licked a stripe up the back and dug his tongue in before reaching up to grab at Eddie’s wrist and brought his ring-clad hand to rest over the back of his head. 

“Fuck my face.” Steve breathed up at him, mouth hovering over the tip, still not putting it in his mouth.

Eddie’s fingers tightened and his wide eyes, blown as black as they were, had somehow grown even wider. 

“Shit, okay. You don’t have to ask me twice.”

Eddie gripped his own cock in his free hand and held it steady while Steve opened his mouth waiting. 

He pushed Steve’s head down slowly, keeping his own hips still, testing the water, his breathing coming faster the deeper and deeper Steve took him without complaint.

He felt the tip of Eddie’s cock slip into his throat, settling there and Steve’s eyelids fluttered, his whole body going slack with the feeling, god he’d missed this.

Eddie only let him settle there for a second before he started to pull Steve back up about halfway, then began to move his hips up and down, fucking into his mouth and when Steve let out the most whorish of ragged moans, Eddie started to push his head down to meet his thrusts.

Steve considered himself a dick sucking champion. He’d mastered all of the tricks in his slut years and was determined to put them all to good use now, even as blissed the fuck out as he was he alternated between holding his mouth open and sucking, flicking his tongue around and keeping it flat.

Eddie was a mess of strung together curses above him and his rabbiting hips were quickly losing their rhythm, striking against the back of Steve’s throat with a force that had him sinking and sinking and sinking.

Steve’s head was forced back down one last time, his nose being crushed into Eddie’s pelvis and he could feel the cum shooting down his throat with a suddenness that seemed to take them both by surprise. 

Steve swallowed like a champ if he did say so himself, letting Eddie’s softening cock slip out of his mouth when he turned his head to nuzzle into the join of his hip while Eddie gently tried to smooth out the hair he’d tugged at.

“Come up here.” Eddie muttered, pulling lightly at Steve’s jaw to get him to look up. Steve groaned but did as he was told, slithering up Eddie’s body until he was squished in between his side and the back of the couch, face pressed into Eddie’s neck, sleepy and content, being held tight by arms locked around him.

He’d almost drifted off when Eddie turned his head slightly, brushing his cheek against Steve’s forehead. 

“Hey Stevie?”

“Mhm?”

“I really like you.”

Steve felt a sleepy grin pull at the corners of his mouth and he pressed a kiss into the thin skin at Eddie’s neck.

“Really like you too.” He yawned, coming out as more of a huff when Eddie squeezed him tight halfway through.

“Think you’d be more comfy in a bed?”

Steve shrugged, not really wanting to move but knowing his back would be very unhappy with him in the morning if he did sleep here. 

“Suppose.”

Eddie buried his nose into Steve’s hair for a moment, squeezing him tight again, just once before they both started to shuffle their way up, leaving their discarded pants by the couch and stripping off what was left of their clothes as Eddie led him by the hand into his room, where they fell naked and syrupy sweet into bed together, nodding off almost immediately.

Steve woke up to early morning light spilling in through a crack in the curtains, hair in his face and a warm body squirming against him.

He could feel Eddie’s heartbeat under his hand, rapid and jumping while he shifted his hips around, trying not to wake Steve up but Steve was now awake in every sense of the word.

His morning wood was pressed directly in between Eddie’s cheeks and Eddie was rocking back and forth like he couldn’t stop himself. 

Steve pulled him in tighter, feeling desire lick through him at the short gasp of air Eddie let out when he realised Steve was awake.

“You want something, baby?”

His voice was rough from sleep, low and rumbling and Eddie ground his ass back into Steve’s cock even harder.

“Y-yeah.” He breathed out.

“And what’s that?” Steve murmured back, pressing light teasing kisses along the back of his neck.

“Fuck me.” Eddie almost whined. 

Steve had no fucking idea what had gotten into him to get him into this state but he was hardly going to deny him.

“I-” Eddie hesitated, his face burning a little red, “I prepped. Last night. I… I had kinda hoped something might happen.”

Steve lifted himself up onto his elbow, rolling Eddie over so he was on his back and tilting his chin to face him.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

Eddie shrugged. “I dunno, I was nervous I guess.”

“Are you nervous now?”

“No.” He shook his head as much as he could under Steve’s grip. “Wanna be fucked.”

“Yeah?” Steve rolled himself over until he was lying in between Eddie’s spread legs, “Want me to take care of you?”

Eddie nodded again, his eyes glassy and pleading.

“Hold me down, make me take it.”

Steve pulled back a little from where he was running his nose across Eddie’s jaw, feeling the stubble there scrape against his skin. He looked him in the eye.

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah, Stevie. Sweetheart. I trust you. I want you to.” Eddie rolled his hips up, dragging a moan out of both of them. “Feel safe with you. Always felt safe with you.”

Steve’s entire heart was melting. His whole body sunk down and he pressed his lips to Eddie’s in a kiss that he hoped conveyed everything he was feeling right now. Sweetness and care and affection and warmth and all of the soft gooey feelings Steve had kept locked away for so long that were all being let out now and how on earth had he ever managed to pretend to himself that he didn’t like the boy directly underneath him.

“As you wish.” He muttered into Eddie’s mouth and Eddie huffed back out at him.

“Don’t Princess Bride me right now, sweetheart.”

“Why?” Steve pouted. “You don’t want to be my princess?”

Eddie hummed against him. “Not right now. Maybe another time.”

Steve grinned back down at him.

“As you wish.”

“So I didn’t manage to suck the bitch out of your dick last night?”

“Nope.” Steve dragged his mouth down Eddie’s neck, licking and sucking at the tender skin there. “But I encourage you to try as often as you’d like.”

“Later.” Eddie exhaled, his breaths coming shorter as Steve slipped a hand between them, bypassing Eddie’s hard cock and instead pulling his legs up around his hips. “Later. For now, I need you in me. Please.”

“Love hearing you beg, baby.” Steve shot back at him with a sharp grin. “Do it again.”

Eddie’s hips jolted up and his eyes started to roll in his head as Steve flicked his tongue over one of his nipples.

“Stevie.” He moaned. “Sweetheart. Please. I need you. I need you. Please fuck me.”

“As you wish.”

“Oh my god.” Eddie rolled his eyes in exasperation rather than arousal and he went to shove at Steve’s shoulder.

Steve grabbed his wrist before he could, pinning his hand above his head and waiting to see if it was too far. 

Eddie’s mouth was hanging open and his eyes were blown out again, heavy and on fire and without an inch of apprehension in them.

“Where’s your lube and condoms?”

Eddie blinked himself back, his eyes becoming a little clearer again as he looked towards his bedside locker.

“Top drawer. I’ll-”

He reached out towards it with his free hand but Steve caught his wrist again, bringing it up to meet the other one over his head, crossing them and holding them fast with one hand.

“I think I’ll keep your hands right here.”

Eddie gave his arms an experimental tug, his whole body seeming to light up when he found he couldn’t pull them free with Steve’s weight bearing down on him as he leaned over to rifle through Eddie’s beside locker like he hadn’t even noticed Eddie trying to escape and Eddie’s hips humped up against him again. 

Steve let go of Eddie’s wrists but not before telling him, “Don’t move. Your hands stay there.”

He slipped the condom onto himself first so he didn’t have to fumble with it when his hands were all slippery and had just managed to spread a healthy dose of lube over his fingers before Eddie brought his arms down with a petulant little look in his eye.

Steve snapped his dry hand back up, catching both wrists before they could get far and pinning them back over his head.

“Oh, it’s gonna be like that is it?”

Eddie stared up at him, defiant. 

“What are you gonna do about it?”

Steve grinned down, sharp and predatory, pressing a finger against Eddie’s hole and pushing in.

Eddie writhed underneath him, fucking himself down harder on Steve’s finger than Steve would have expected and weakly attempting to pull his wrists away, the noises coming out of him making something almost animalistic come alive within Steve, pushing another finger in and scissoring him open.

“Fuck me, Stevie. I’m ready. Please.”

Steve drove his fingers in further, finding that bundle of nerves inside him and pressing down mercilessly, making Eddie cry out.

“You sure?”

“Yes.” Eddie hissed out, somehow desperate and irritated at the same time. “Split me open, come on.”

How could he possibly refuse a request like that?

Steve pulled his fingers out and used that hand to spread Eddie wide, hiking his knee up higher around his waist and lining himself up.

With a desperate kind of ferocity, he crashed their mouths back together, shoving his tongue into Eddie’s mouth, swallowing his moans as he pushed himself in.

Eddie apparently refused any adjustment period, almost as soon as he had bottomed out, he was rolling his hips, tightening his legs, trying to get Steve to move. 

“Hard-” He panted into Steve’s mouth, “Harder.”

Steve’s thread of control snapped, and he pulled out almost completely before thrusting back in, hard and fast, driving Eddie further up the bed with each punishing snap of his hips, the filthy sounds of their skin slapping against each other reverberating around Eddie’s bedroom while Eddie practically screamed out as Steve nailed his prostate.

He could feel himself getting closer and he refused to go over the edge before he wrung every last drop of cum from Eddie’s body. 

He grabbed at Eddie’s cock in a hard grip, while Eddie’s eyes rolled back in his head. It only took a couple of pumps before his back arched and he came all over his own chest, his mouth hanging open in a silent scream.

Eddie was twitching and limp underneath him and Steve finally let go of his wrists, using both hands to grab onto Eddie’s hips and drive into him like he’d asked him to, splitting him wide open as he came harder than he could remember happening in recent memory.

Steve just about managed to stop himself collapsing down on top of him, slipping out and rolling over, falling into the pillows next to him, the two of them panting into the early morning of the bedroom.

He pulled the condom off, tying it closed and leaving it on the bedside locker to be dealt with later.

He spotted his own shirt from the night before lying on the floor and he leaned over the edge of the bed, picking it up and using it to wipe Eddie’s chest down.

When he settled back next to him, Eddie turned to him with a sleepy, dopey smile and heavy eyes.

Steve brought a hand up to brush some hair from his face.

“You okay?”

Eddie closed his eyes, shuffling himself in closer and cuddling into Steve’s chest.

“Yeah.” He sighed. 

“Would you calm down?”

Steve shot a glare at Eddie over his shoulder.

“Forgive me for wanting to get the food tasting good. Would you prefer if I fed them spaghetti-o’s?”

They’d invited the girls over for, like, a dinner date thing. It was the first time he and Eddie were going to be observed by them as a couple doing couple things and being domestic and shit so sue him. He wanted things to be perfect.

Eddie plucked the teaspoon from his hand, hip checking him out of the way, dipping it into the sauce and popping it into his mouth.

“See? It’s perfect! It-” Eddie looked from Steve back down to the sauce where it was simmering away then up at Steve again. He took the spoon from his mouth and popped his hip. “Needs more sugar.”

“Oh, it needs more sugar, does it?” Steve snatched the spoon back. Of course his beef ragu needed more sugar, he knew that that was what he had been trying to fix. “Thanks for your genius assessment, Chef.”

“Jesus, what’s up your ass today?” Eddie asked while Steve sprinkled and stirred just a little more sugar in. “Oh, I forgot.”

Eddie pressed Steve into the kitchen counter from behind, grabbing him by the hips to grind up against him.

“I’m in there, aren’t I sweetheart?” Eddie breathed into his ear. “You’re all plugged up for me like a good boy.”

Steve was mercifully saved from what would have undoubtedly been an embarrassingly whiny response or a bratty retort by a knock on the door.

Eddie gave Steve’s ass one last squeeze with his hands before leaving to answer the door in a flurry of movement.

He could hear his boyfriend's overly enthusiastic greeting, probably accompanied by bows and kissed knuckles and whatever other ridiculously adorable nonsense he could come up with.

The girls were led into the kitchen and while Robin immediately broke away to hover at Steve’s side, gossiping with him while trying to steal bites of food, Eddie and Chrissy were by the fridge, getting caught up in conversation after getting drinks for themselves and their partners.

Steve eventually shoved Robin away when she started getting a little more brazen and he enjoyed a blissful eleven seconds of being left to his own devices.

“Steven.”

Steve took a big breath in.

“Edward.” 

“The ragu is fine. It’s finished.”

Steve turned his glare over to those stupid big brown eyes that could get him to do almost anything.

Fuck it, he would do anything.

He’d probably agree to kill someone if Eddie asked him right.

Didn’t stop the irritation mixed with white hot attraction that just seemed to follow Eddie around, that Steve couldn’t resist the magnetic pull of.

“You think I’m gonna trust your nonexistent pallet to tell me it’s finished?”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie placed a hand over his heart and closed his eyes while Steve dipped a teaspoon back into the sauce, “my pallet has been trained by only the most refined of sugars-”

Steve shoved the spoon into Eddie’s mouth who, true to everything he’d learned about Eddie in the last couple of weeks, took it like a champ, snapping his eyes upon and sucking around it, his gaze boring into him.

Hollowing his cheeks out, he slowly slipped it out from in between those plump lips.

“Delicious.”

Behind him, Steve could hear Robin mutter to Chrissy.

“Great. We’re gonna have to put up with this shit for the rest of our lives.”

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 AO3

Fic Art by me! 😊

@augustjustice @geekymagicalpotato @wormdebut @eddielives1986 @releasethexbarakat @a-little-unsteddie @steddietogo @steddiehyperfixation @raisedbylibrarians @silver-snaffles @estrellami-1 @bookbinderbitch @goodolefashionedloverboi @marklee-blackmore

Big thanks as always to @hbyrde36 for her magnificent beta work and to the @strangerthingswritersguild for their motivation

Roommates divider by firefly-graphics

Banner by cafekitsune

Schedule moving forward

Thank you all for coming on this journey with me!

[ducktracy]

a short that woefully flies under my radar more than is moral, i rewatched Hollywood Daffy months ago and still find myself thinking about this sequence by Virgil Ross to the day. incredibly enchanted by the way this moves—i love the very inspired detail of Daffy grabbing the cop and having to physically pull him down a little to account for the height difference… love that bouncy settle after the Errol Flynn line (i feel i say this with EVERYTHING, but “DON’T ANSWER THAT” is one of my favorite line deliveries from Blanc and Daffy alike) and the head tilts give Daffy a nice nuance and dimension to his acting. it's a great contrast to the purposefully obtuse, flop-footed run cycles and general exorbitance from the cop. so stinkin' good

[the-fandom-finder]

I don’t get how some Izzy fans can act like the show committed bury your gay when almost every single main and side character is queer. You don’t have to be happy that he’s dead, but don’t be purposefully obtuse. It makes me throw out all talking points, same with the kill your disabled talking point Lucius, Jackie, black Pete, John canonically, or hinted that have disabilities. You don’t have to like it, but this was a classic case of killing off the mentor figure because David thinks that sounds cool. once again, I’m not saying you have to like it. I’m just saying it wasn’t meant to be mean or evil . the only way they could commit to both of these tropes as if literally everyone dies.  

[jack-the-fool]

A variety of inconsequential Nimona headcannons :)

-Ballister is TERRIBLE at keeping track of his phone/noticing when he has texts and calls which post-movie causes Ambrosuis such distress because he starts catastrophizing when Bal doesn't text him back for 20 minutes.

-Ambrosius knows theoretically how to cook but 10 times out of 10 will opt for take-out when left to his own devices. Nimona can cook but only specific meals she likes (breakfast tacos, brownies in a mug, etc). Ballister is the only one who actually knows how to cook in that he can be given various ingredients and make something out of them.

-Nimona gets a hold of some of her and Ballister's old wanted posters and hangs them up in her room. Bal thinks it's funny. Ambrosius has mixed feelings.

-Nimona all but refuses to call Ballister by his name. it's always "boss" or some variation. When she's being purposefully obtuse with people she doesn't know she'll call him "Larry" on occasion.

-Similarly, she never calls Ambrosius by his name either. When she does address him at first it's usually some variation of "Arm-Choppy" (which he weathers like a champ). Eventually, he graduates to "golden boy" or "The Boss' Boyfriend" until she decides he's cool now.

-The trio are all competitive to varying degrees. Nimona is competitive for the sake of being competitive and will announce dumb little contests when she's feeling bored. Ambrosius is mostly competitive about inconsequential things and made-up scenarios. When things are too serious his anxiety response kicks in and he basically stops caring while still somehow being stressed about it. Ballister acts like he isn't that competitive but it's a lie. Mostly in physical competitions, but he also IS that good so he usually wins anyway. When it is more of a challenge for him he starts to get weirdly serious and agitated.

[cymk8]

I can't stop looking at your Shadowlach art. Any of it. All of it.

- One cos of your artistry: beautiful and soft and the negative space?? Hello??

- Two cos HELLO?? you draw them so soft and sweet and it is just so peaceful to look at your art. (The kitties in the hair brushing one are *so* cute, and non-ship friends are also enamoured with them :3)

Tell us more about your headcanons, please!

Some prompts if needed: How did things progress from platonic? Was it romantic from early on or primarily physical attraction? Were they on similar pages throughout their relationship or did one fall harder?

General invitation to word dump: what thoughts have you most crazed? Why don't you let them out ;)

(thank u so much...for your compliment and also the fact you sent this ask in the first place has made my day)

God I have so fucking many thoughts I'm going little insane about it and I'm literally so happy you asked because. I have been w a i t i n g HAHA

Your prompts:

We have all heard That Line™; I'd imagine that having both been so pent up, they would immediately jump each other's bones given the opportunity — Shadowheart is absolutely unsubtle and Karlach is Karlach

I actually think it would be one sided for a while!! But not in the piney way. I think Shadowheart attempts to rizz the shit out of Karlach only to fail because Karlach's situation with her engine essentially made her exceptionally good at Resisting Temptation (I find it absolutely hilarious that most of Karlach's in-game responses are so purposefully obtuse when it comes to her)

That in particular pisses Shadowheart off since she would be so used to being able to finesse her way through things like this (because of her background as a professional 'spy' — because otherwise...she's an absolute dork); it makes her try extra hard and eventually come to the conclusion that her attraction is greater when in fact Karlach has had more experience living like a Nun™ than she does

(cont.)

As for the development...I think they would be on similar levels of attraction, but tackle it differently — Karlach would immediately embrace the feeling and Shadowheart will try her fucking hardest to rationalize it away/deny it (queen of repression)

They would probably be fast friends (Shadowheart rizzing Karlach), then actual friends (because Karlach is so earnest Shadowheart feels like she can be earnest too), physically involved, then romantically involved — it only outwardly seems fast, but they definitely have things to work through before they can actually really be honest and feel that they can rely on each other completely

Random headcanon/general thoughts that have going FERAL IN THE CLUB:

I think they work really well together — they balance each other out in the sense that they have very different ways of handling their own stresses and trauma; they have a lot of opportunities to grow even just by being around one another (for example, Shadowheart is so Repressed™ even other characters feel the same way — and Karlach is the opposite); restraint and freedom go hand in hand 😌

They both have a love for adorable things...once the all of the shit with Karlach's heart gets sorted and they FINALLY get to live that cottagecore life, I think their farm would have so many more animals. Like. So many...Karlach would honestly just be so excited to be able to care for things again — and Shadowheart would be excited because she's finally allowed to be just as loud about showing that she DOES care

The idea that Shadowheart's hair could be a signifier for how closed off she is — so throughout the acts, she slowly lets it down/get messier figuratively and literally in front of everyone...AND KARLACH gets permission to touch and braid it as a sign of true trust and vulnerability; it becomes something of a ritual (Karlach is obsessed simply for the fact that she isn't seen as dangerous and is trusted to be able to be gentle about things) (thanks @kanobies for giving me that sweet, sweet psychic damage)

To add to that: they like physically pampering each other — Karlach finally internalizing that she can be 'pretty' and deserving of gentle care and Shadowheart internalizing that she is allowed to want/ask for things that aren't strictly necessary or used towards a greater cause (I don't think she's ever had a strong sense of bodily autonomy in the sense that she was gaslit into thinking every aspect of her life was for Lady Shar)

I'M OBSESSED WITH THE FACT THAT THEY RADIATE DOG ENERGY IN VASTLY DIFFERENT WAYS: thank you Isobel for immediately clocking Shadowheart on sight by calling her a feisty little terrier and for Karlach being literally Clifford the Big Red Dog and

The difference in lifespans...FUCK. KARLACH WOULD TRY SO HARD TO MAKE THEIR TIME TOGETHER WORTH IT/MEMORABLE since she knows her life is comparatively short; Shadowheart would never take it for granted; they make each other keepsakes...🫠🥹🥹

And I still have so much more but I gotta seem like I'm at least somewhat classy (pls...if anyone wants to talk about any of them or both of them I am so mcfucking ready)

[shostakobitchh]

chapter 64 sneak peek!

“What’re you doing?” she whispered, shivering. “It’s the middle of the bloody night!”

“Never mind that.” Snape stared down at her feet. “Where are your shoes?”

“Upstairs, where else would they be?”

He gave her a bored sort of look that told her he was gauging how she’d ended up with this many stupid-genes.

“I’ll er — go and get them!” Ariel said, hurrying back through the portrait hole to leave Snape impatiently tapping her foot as Sir Cadogen cried for one of them to draw their swords.

She threw on her snow boots and chunkiest sweater, along with her Cloak and wand. Eyeing the Map, Ariel wondered if she should bring it but decided against it. Snape would set it on fire — he’d done worse to much more precious pieces of parchment.

Before Ariel scampered back out the door, she quickly penned a note to Hermione and left it on her night table, just in case. The last thing Ariel needed was Hermione waking up Professor McGonagall because she was afraid Sirius Black had abducted her, or something.

Snape was tapping his foot impatiently when Ariel crept back out, eyeing her outfit with a disdainful glare. She just started expectantly back, crossing her arms up in a show of dominance.

After a moment, he rolled his eyes and turned away. “Come along now, before I change my mind.”

Ariel fell into step with him as they hurried down the stairs. “Are you kidnapping me?”

“It’s not kidnapping if it’s my child.”

Something about the way he said it — my child — made her heart feel like it had grown two sizes.

“Where are we going then?” Ariel chirped up at him.

“You’ll find out.” Snape gave her a severe look that made the next question stick to the back of her throat. “No more talking. Put on that Cloak and stay close to me.”

They walked all the way to the main entrance before Snape spoke again. Ariel tried to rack her brain for where in Merlin’s name they could be going at this hour, on Christmas Eve, no less, when Snape pushed open the great oak doors, letting in a gust of frigid wind that made Ariel's teeth chatter. Outside, the grounds were blanketed in a fresh layer of snow that glittered under the starlight.

“We’ll be cutting across the grounds and going through a back ways path,” his eyes trailed over the distant mass of forest, assessing it.

"We're going outside?" Ariel popped off the hood to look at him incredulously.

“I thought I said no more talking,” he pulled her hood back up, but kept his arm around her shoulders.

“But — but the Dementors —”

“The Aurors are patrolling tonight,” Snape said flatly. “In light of the holiday, they were not allowed to be on the grounds. They’re on the outskirts of Hogsmeade until tomorrow evening.”

“Good thing Black takes breaks on Christmas,” Ariel muttered under her breath. “Does he have New Years off, too?”

Snape’s grip tightened around her invisible shoulders as he led them out into the night. The snow crunched beneath their feet, leaving a trail of footprints behind them. Ariel pulled the Cloak tighter around herself, the fabric whispering against her skin.

She began to debate with herself on whether or not she should be concerned. Being abducted in the middle of the night usually meant that something had happened, but Snape was acting relatively normal, which told Ariel that danger wasn’t imminent. Then there was the fact that he had taken her outside in the middle of the night, which was even weirder, because that was definitely for an approved Ariel activity. She supposed if she asked Snape for a list of those, it would be quite short — would probably include breathing and eating and drinking. Maybe learning. And Occluding, but only sometimes —

“Are you being purposefully obtuse?” Snape’s voice snapped.

When Ariel looked up, he was several paces ahead of her. She’d unknowingly stopped, and then she wondered how he’d noticed. Maybe it was the fact that her footprints had stopped alongside his, or that her breath curling the frigid air was noticeably not alongside Snape’s anymore. Either way, Ariel muttered an apology and hurried back to his side, letting the hood slide off once again.

Snape’s eyes scanned the trees with unnatural precision. Then he lifted his wand, raising it like a conductor about to cue a symphony, muttering some spell Ariel couldn’t make out over both their heads. A film of dense silence seemed to settle over them, like they’d been put in a room in the middle of the path, static in her vision before it cleared and her line of sight returned to normal.

“Disillusionment,” Snape said before Ariel could ask. “Do not leave my side again, or we’re turning back.”

She took off the hood, earning herself a reproachful glare from Snape, who just shook his head and kept moving. Looking ahead down the dim path, Ariel could see lights in the distance, golden against the snow that glistened down the path. There were fairy lights strung on all of the trees along the tree line, illuminating them in a soft, enchanting glow.

“This isn’t very festive, you know.” Ariel tried as she nudged herself into Snape’s side. “The kidnapping you claim you’re not doing and smuggling me out of the castle.”

“What are you going to do about it?” Snape rolled his eyes.

“You’re going to end up with a lump of coal in your stocking if you don’t tell me what’s going on.”

His lips twitched. If Ariel hadn’t known any better, she would’ve thought he was trying not to smirk. “I’ll have to take my chances, then.”

“I’m serious. If we miss Christmas morning, I’ll be very cross with you.”

Snape simply raised an eyebrow at her, looking thoroughly unimpressed by her threat. “I shan’t repeat myself.”

She scowled up at him. “Can you at least give me a hint?”

“We’re not going to Hogwarts.”

“That is a terrible hint.”

“And you are a terrible traveling companion.”

“If I were that bad, I’d be walking much slower and complaining.”

“Your incessant chatter is just as grating.”

“I am a delight.”

The path began to slope downwards, leading them through a copse of snow-laden trees. Ariel's boots sank deep into the drifts, and she had to grab onto Snape's arm to keep from tumbling face-first into a snowbank. He steadied her with a firm hand, his fingers gripping her elbow as he guided her down the slippery slope. Ariel clung to him, her breath puffing out in icy clouds as they trudged onward.

“This is starting to feel like one of those fairytales where they tell you not to go into the woods,” Ariel grumbled. “And I can’t feel my toes.”

“There’s there complaining,” Snape retorted, but he cast a Warming Charm on her anyway.

He led them up and around a grove of trees, the light fading behind them as they moved farther and farther away from the path. Ariel’s teeth were still chattering, despite the Charm, and so she pressed herself tightly against Snape’s side, relishing in the warmth she found there. She would have thought Snape would have been as cold as an icicle, being so skinny and pale, but he radiated heat.

Ariel suddenly knew where they were, without ever being there before. As the bank swung upwards, steep enough that Snape had to help her up again, Ariel could see the gleaming lights greeting her as she made her way back to solid ground.

“Hogsmeade?” she whispered, to herself. When she looked up at Snape in confusion, the expression on his face made her heart squeeze in her chest, the same way it did when the doe appeared.

“Come along,” Snape said softly — so soft she almost didn’t hear him.

“Why’d we go that way?”

“To avoid being seen,” there was an obviously tagged at the end there, but Ariel ignored it.

[asexualandalwaysshipping]

My personal gripe when it comes to shipping culture isn't just when people choose to hate on other ships that aren't their otp, but when they choose to be purposely obtuse as to why people may ship a certain pair despite the "ethics" of the relationship. "But that relationship is so inappropriate!" It's the same issue where people just assume because you interact with a certain piece of media, it must mean you support everything that media portrays, as though critical thinking doesn't exist anymore.

I just saw a post where someone was going on about how they don't understand how people can ship catwin because of the age difference and power dynamic and called people who shipped them "weird." That's just such an unfair conclusion, considering the show itself does not attempt to hide the fact that there is supposed to be clear chemistry and attraction between Edwin and the Cat King. So you're going to criticize people for literally responding the way the writers intended? It's not as though this person doesn't actually understand why people ship catwin — they just wanted to frame it as though people either purposely ignore the supposed "age difference" or support power imbalances when it's obvious catwin appeals to people because of the dynamic the characters have with each other. The attraction towards Catwin isn't centered on the power imbalance at all — it's about the character's interactions and the way one complements the other.

If we're looking at a more controversial ship, Sebaciel has much more problematic elements to it, with Ciel being a literal child. But it's not as though you can't understand why it's a ship when the author is so obvious about how the relationship is meant to be suggestive. The ship has aspects to it beyond the pedophilia. It's not as though people who ship Sebaciel support everything about it, but the chemistry between Sebastian and Ciel, which again, is purposefully placed there, has appeal.

I personally, am not a supporter of Zutara. For me, it just seems like too obvious of a pairing what with fire always being associated with water and all. But not just that, I just don't like the idea of a relationship based on forgiving and falling in love with someone who had an active role in the terrorizing of your people. Zuko literally threatens Katara's village in the first episode. Yes, he's redeems himself and I do like him as a character, but for me, it's difficult to ignore when considering him as a love interest for Katara. But I'm not going around calling all Zutura shippers problematic for shipping these two, because I have enough sense to know why people ship them. It's a classic enemies to lovers. They clearly care for each other. There are parallels in their individual personal journeys that complement each other. I get it.

It's just really ignorant to act as though a ship has to be completely unproblematic in order to justify the support or to only see a ship for its most offensive aspects. Different fandoms hold different standards, and we tend to cherry-pick what we support in order to push our own agendas/ships, so not only is hating on ships unnecessary, it's hypocritical.

[not-goldy]

So why didn’t they enlist together? Hobi would’ve been eligible through 2022, Jimin could’ve left a little earlier and gone with Hobi instead of jk, why didn’t Jimin try to do the buddy enlistment with him if they’re so close?

jimin was still working on his album when hobi enlisted- why would he enlist early?😭 some of you act purposefully obtuse just to prove a point

Meanwhile Jimin and Jungkook checking eachother's calendars to make sure they both free to serve together 😩😩😩😩😩😩😩😩

[pfhwrittes]

so you admit to being friends with a pedophile idk why i'm surprised 🙄🙄🙄

i don't know if you're purposefully obtuse or particularly thick if this is your take away from my last post.

i'll assume you are thicker than pig shit because otherwise i have to contemplate the fact that your mother failed to swallow you when she had the chance.

however, because you seem to lack basic reading comprehension (which shouldn't come as a surprise on this fucking website) let me quote and reiterate the context of the post for you:

"i am also friends with someone irl who thought they were talking to another adult in an adult only space only to find out that the person they were talking to (and engaging in flirtatious conversation with) lied about their age. i witnessed first hand as this person contemplated ending their life because the child threatened to “leak” their conversations and called them a paedophile. i witnessed first hand the shame and fear this person lived with even as they went to the police of their own free will to clear their name."

my friend is not a paedophile because they weren't charged with a crime because it was evident from the chat logs that the child my friend was talking to lied about their age. because the child told my friend that they were 21 when they actually 15. because my friend was in an adult only online space (where you had to verify your age and be logged in to interact in this space). this child acted maliciously in order to bait my friend into suicide.

how fucking dare you come into my ask box on my blog and accuse me something that is categorically untrue. you weren't there. you did not call for an ambulance. nor have you been there while he has recovered. you do not know how badly this has rocked my friend's confidence and how he has withdrawn into himself both irl and online (in fact he no longer has any online presence) because he cannot bear the thought of someone dragging this up again. my friend is now completely sex and intimacy repulsed due to the trauma of this. his confidence is shattered. all because an entitled child lied about their age so they could access an adult only space.

get thoroughly fucked.

[mephinomaly]

[TL] BIOHAZARD/Chapter 1

[ This post uses Ois~su ♪ ]

Season: Winter

Time: Flashback. Middle of February, the first year of ES’s establishment

Location: RhythmLink Office

Rei: This is a grave set of circumstances.

Recently, there has been a considerable loss of UNDEAD fans.

Though we have been on the decline for some time, now the numbers are showing that too. In the number of people attending our lives, CD sales, merch items, and many more.

Kaoru: Eh, really?

That’s surprising~... From my personal experience, I feel like since Yumenosaki fans still get all excited at fan sign events and stuff.

I don’t think we’re losing customers per say, more that our clientele is changing, right? Now in ES, we take part in a lot of variety shows that even kids can enjoy.

Kids have to make do with allowance their parents give them, they can’t exactly fork out a bunch to buy live tickets and CDs—

So if you look at the overall, it just looks like sales are going down, right?

Koga: Eeh, even though you’re stupid rich, you still get how the average person lives.

Kaoru: Hey, it’s not all sunshine and rainbows. My parents are pretty strict, you know.

Adonis: Fufu. The reality is, we’ve been in the business so long we’ve become numb to it.

If you are a child, the price for live tickets is most likely far too expensive for them.

If you pester your parents over it, they’ll just become more and more firm in their decision.

Kaoru: Yupyup. They’ll be like “I’m not buying you silly things like that, just google a picture of them!”

Adonis: Is that what your parents said to you?

Kaoru: Not those words exactly, but pretty much, yeah. When I told them I wanted to go to an idol training school, they gave me a lot of flak for it.

Rei: We’ve strayed a little off topic but- whilst what Kaoru-kun said is true, we cannot ignore that sales are floundering.

To put it bluntly, the current UNDEAD is on the wane.

Koga: That’s exactly why I was against it! Goin’ on those lively variety shows don’t suit our personas at all!

Wish we’d just stuck to making cool music ‘cos maybe then—

Adonis: But if that was the case, UNDEAD would have been overthrown at an earlier point for being idols that aren’t current nor can read the room.

No, it’s more than that, it’s because our senpais purposefully signed up for a variety show that would make Oogami seem like an idiot.

Rei: It is more that we simply wanted to do that work, that’s all. As Koga quite rightly said, we are responsible for the situation we are in.

Koga: D-damn. It’s pretty weird for you to be so upfront ‘bout your faults.

Rei: Well, there’s no use being obtuse about it. No matter what shameful behaviour I get up to nowadays, no-one will grow to hate me…♪

Kaoru: Ahaha. I normally hate that kind of arrogance~, but since it’s true it pisses me off even more ♪

There’s been times in the past where you’ve immediately gone “that’s my responsibility”. If there’s a problem with UNDEAD, it’s a problem for all of us. Don’t try to deal with it all on your own, ‘kay?

Adonis: I agree. There are times where Sakuma-senpai acts like that. But we are not children who cannot undertake responsibility.

Koga: Yeah yeah, whenever you pull shit like that it makes me seriously pissed~♪

Rei:Oh? So what I'm hearing is that you all hate me more than I thought you did...?

Kaoru: We’re lecturing you because we like you. If we hated you, we’d just ignore you.

Rei: Hm… Anyhow, to return to what we were talking about, the cause of this whole thing is because we were not clear in our attitude.

UNDEAD was originally a unit that sang exclusively about immoral and radical themes via rock ‘n roll.

However as of late, we have been taking part in variety programs that emphasise friendliness which goes in opposition to our true nature.

We’ve created an environment where people say “Oh? UNDEAD looks scary to approach but they're actually surprisingly easy to talk to?”

But because of that sort of work we’ve been able to expand our clientele…

Those who have loved UNDEAD since the beginning are probably feeling disillusioned.

Koga: Ain’t we got our priorities twisted? We shoulda payed more attention to the so-called hardcore fans.

-And not the new “oooh so cute” new fans who think they know us just from watchin’ those variety shows.

Rei: Well, both are just as important as the other.

Of course we must treasure those fans who have been with us since the beginning, however if we do not gain new fans, their interest will fizzle out like sparklers.

That is how it goes in the idol industry, nay, in all of the entertainment industry.

It’s not as simple as, if you work as hard as you can, you’ll succeed and everyone will love you for eternity.

[ ☆ ]

Prologue

Chapter 2

[an-architect-of-words]

If I have to see one more video forced into my reels from Booktok where someone is like “Tee hee I was reading a book that said ‘his eyes darkened’ tee hee, silly author, eyes don’t darken,” I am going to lose my last marble.

Like is this for real, or are people being purposefully obtuse for giggles? And if it’s the latter, what is funny about acting ignorant? Why are there so many videos of people like “Trying to imagine a character but she [insert common phrase to explain a nuanced expression or tone] and WHAT DOES IT MEAN??” As if the author is avant-garde and you’re not just dense.

I am NOT willing to give up highly useful terms we’ve all understood for decades because people suddenly refuse to use one iota of imagination and default to “it’s literal” or “it’s fake.” You can pry “he hissed,” “his brows knit,” “his lip curled,” and “his eyes darkened” from my cold, dead fingers.

[limeade-l3sbian]

why has the internet made being purposefully obtuse a fun and cool gotcha? can’t think of many things more loser like and obnoxious

ppl don’t even have to construe an argument to shit they disagree with, they just have to act like they don’t get a very basic take and then reap the benefits in people acting like they are based. i fuckkng hate this era of anti intellectualism. i don’t need people to be super well read or anything but the fact that it’s been hyped up to not even try is aggravating as fuck

.

[stonebutchstories]

Spent Smoke

Submissive stone butch service top/ Dominant butch bottom

Mathilda is the OFOS tough guy of the group. Or, that’s what her butch friends assume, anyways. There are some long-needed revelations at the last bonfire party of the season that leads to an unexpected new experience for Matt and the grouchy butch who she just can’t seem to get along with.

cw: characters get into a verbal argument, discussion of gender dysphoria and homophobia/transphobia within the lgbt community, spitting, smoking, D/S, use of petnames (puppy, sir), degradation, humiliation, face slapping, oral sex, non-stone character is partially unclothed, stone character is clothed/only touched on their packer, outdoors.

“Straight people always talk like strapping is a selfless act, and I don’t wanna speak for everybody, but to me, that’s bullshit. I get way into it.”

Ryan is ranting about strapons again. This is pretty regular at this point, if he gets even one drink in him he can’t shut up about it.

“Here he goes.” Maya rolls their eyes.

“I’m like, I mean- I hope we can be real here - I’m like closing my eyes and-“ he presses finger to temple, miming a telepathic gesture, humming like a ufo.

The guys break into percussive little hisses, not quite laughter- the kind you only make at rude jokes. We all came out this weekend to Ryan’s for a bonfire, probably the last one of the season. It’s starting to get chilly and everyone is compensating with layers, except for Ryan, who is drinking the glow into his cheeks and thoroughly making a fool of himself. We’re all entertained, though. But my attention isn’t on him.

Annie shoves his shoulder.

“Man, cmon-“ she doesn’t enjoy the drunken carrying on. She doesn’t really enjoy much of anything, as far as I can tell. She’s the designated hater, an up-and-down contrarian.

“It’s like the fucking drift!” Ryan interjects. “You feel it! If you’re cool and gay enough. I mean, I know I do.”

Scattered nods to that. I can definitely relate.

“It’s not like- God, Ryan, you can’t be comparing sex to Pacific Rim and expecting us to believe you’ve had any.” Annie laughs.

“Fuck you!” Ryan grins. He reaches for his coozy, intent on overdoing it tonight. “What’s it like, then?”

Annie’s jaw snaps closed just a little too suddenly, and she hesitates just a second with the stuttering response. That’s all it really takes- we know what we know, and we know Annie doesn’t.

“You’ve never-?” Maya asks in hushed tones.

“I have!” She’s red. “I have many times.” She says it under her breath, the kinda way where it’s pitiful how obvious the lie is.

“What!!? Annie, I thought you were a dom. You’ve never strapped?” Ryan’s a little too gone for subtlety.

She rolls her eyes. “Domming and strapping aren’t synonyms, dumbass. Don’t you know the difference?”

I chime in for the first time all evening. “I don’t.” I do know, but I’m being purposefully obtuse- I wanna know more.

Annie’s jaw sets on edge a little, tension straining her face. She squints a little when she has to make eye contact with me, like it stings her to do it. “I mean like… I’m the dominant one, but I’m also the one...”

The air goes stale as her thought trails off. The boys are not jeering and laughing- we are intent listeners with eyes fixated on her. Everybody’s heard about Annie being a dom, but we’re eager to satisfy the curiousity about how exactly she does it.

She clears her throat, dispelling the dizzy atmosphere. “Whatever. I’m not giving you guys free tips. Keep being boring and cishet-adjacent and conflating shit.”

“Annie, we all took gender studies. We know.” Ryan tries breaking the tension with some banter. There’s no laughter, though.

“What about old school over here. They said they don’t.” Annie jabs a thumb at me. She doesn’t even deign to look my way or say my name.

Listen, I get it- I’ve always gone for the 50’s type dyke look. I tend toward the archetype, and I’m proud of that. The rest of the guys are up and down modern butches- pin jackets, basement stick and pokes, all sporting the infamous at-home clipper mullet. I do stick out from the rest of my guys- I tend to get handed the check. I know it upsets them, the way that even in a group of butch dykes there is a hierarchy of boyhood- and I know that they have assumptions about me because of that. But I’m happy to dispel them.

“I just wanted to know. But I’m submissive, actually.” I take a long pull of my cigarette, letting that one simmer.

Annie fractures, unable to contain her surprise.

I nod, exhaling in her direction. I shift my posture a little more upright. I’m the tallest in the group- and I know when I cross my arms I look imposing. Maybe it’s because I just told all my beloved and respected butch friends that I’m a sub, but I’m feeling a little nervous. It’s easiest to compensate by looking tough.

Annie’s shock transforms into a scowl. “I don’t believe you.”

“Annie!” Ryan scolds. “You literally JUST said we’re being open minded about this.”

“I don’t believe them, because I know, and we ALL know, they top. I know people they’ve topped. They’re not serious, they’re fucking with me. Because they think it’s funny.” Annie is indignant, copying my posture with acerbic sarcasm. “Because they don’t think I can be dominant, so they’re being fucking condescending and making a joke.”

I ash into my empty can. “You gotta stop assuming everybody’s out to get you, babe.” I lean back, spreading my knees apart. Peering over the bonfire, I can see how livid Annie is. She’s actually meeting my eyes now, and it makes my stomach drop. I think the nonchalant response was a misstep, because that look says I am dead meat.

“You know exactly why we assume people are out to get us, BABE. It’s how we stay alive. You know how it feels. That’s why I’m disappointed in this bullshit coming from you.”

Ryan looks at his shoes. Maya takes an extra big swig from her drink. I’ve incited Annie’s righteous homosexual fury.

“It’s immature to inflict that same shit onto your own community because you think butches have to be some greaser stereotype to be allowed in. I’m sorry you feel like the definition of butch is changing and it makes you mad, but I don’t apologize for pissing you off. Get over yourself.”

My face doesn’t shift. Too late to back down. “Annie, I think that’d be a profound criticism of me if I weren’t dead fucking serious.”

She guffaws. “So, what, you’re topping all these people just for shits and giggles? And you’ve secretly hated it all along?”

I shrug. “Hate is a strong word, but yeah. Essentially, yeah.”

Annie seems surprised. “But you…” She trails off, but then course corrects. “But that still doesn’t explain why you’ve been such a dick to me.”

Now, that throws me. “Excuse me??”

“Yeah, don’t think I didn’t notice. You treat the butches who don’t fit your ‘masculinity quota’ like dirt. You’ve been hanging out with us for years now and I’m the only person here you don’t make an attempt to be kind to, or even SPEAK to. You make it obvious you have a problem with the way I present.”

Now I’m bewildered. “I… have no problem with you.”

“Unbelievable!”

Ryan steps in again. “She’s not wrong, Matt. We all have kind of noticed it.”

“Oh, so you guys have KNOWN she was being this way and said nothing? Thanks a lot, guys. Fuck solidarity, I guess!”

“Seriously, Annie, I have no problem with you whatsoever-“

“You know, this is why I fucking HATE city queers. You act all collectivist and holier than thou and shit but completely abide by your friends treating each oth-“

“Annie, I’m genuinely lost. What is all this about?”

“The fucking staring! You stare me down everywhere you see me. When I wear nail polish and jewelry and skirts and shit, you look at my outfits with this just-“ she gestures. “Face of disgust and contempt. You act like you can’t stand to be near me. When I walk in the room you leave. And when you’re not running from me, you’re staring and judging and-“

“That’s not why I’ve been staring at you.”

She’s silent. Everybody is, actually.

I have been avoiding her, she’s right. Just not because I hate her. I take another pull, making any excuse to look away.

“Didn’t know you thought it was like that. That’s on me, I guess.”

Annie clears her throat. “What?”

I’m still staring squarely opposite her. “I wasn’t trying to upset you. I just didn’t know how to make a move. So I tried to give you space. To be a gentleman about it. Seems like it didn’t work.”

Everybody sits in an uneasy stunned silence. Annies mouth is open in shock. I haven’t been aware of it till now, but evidently this is a major revelation to a group of people who thought I was a masc dom top with a personal vendetta against any butch who didn’t perform perfect androgyny. I guess if that was my view of things, I’d be surprised too.

The awkwardness is broken (or maybe elevated) by Ryan keeling over to puke behind a tree.

“Fucking lightweight.” Maya mutters. She rushes to hold his hair back.

A few minutes pass as we tend to him, trying to get him back upright. I try not to look over at Annie. She’s standing and watching us from right where she was, still reeling.

Maya speaks on both of their accounts. “I’m gonna take him to bed, you two can talk it out.” They shuffle to collect shoes and bags. Ryan staggers to his feet, being assisted back on the trail from the backyard fire pit to his place. Between Maya and his partner inside in bed, I’m sure they’ve got it handled. I sit back down.

We avoid looking any particular way as the scuffling sounds of keyrings fade into the distance. They recede into the general chorus of the late season cicadas, right next to the hammering pulse in my ears.

I clear my throat. “You, um. You good?”

Annie blinks back to focus. “Sorry, yeah. I was just um. Re-evaluating the last four-ish years of my life with completely new eyes.”

I laugh uneasily. “Well, y’know. Now you know.”

She sits. “When did this start?” Her voice is small and unsure.

“Pretty much when I met you.” I decide to roll her a cigarette, I know she smokes and I need to keep my hands busy. I get out my canister and papers.

“Why?”

I shrug. “You’re my type. Passionate, intelligent. Little bit rude, especially to me. Not bad looking, either.”

Annie is a lot shorter than me, and abstains from the baggy cuts and concealing shapewear most transmascs in our group favor. She doesn’t flinch from her body and its femininity or its masculinity, and she’s read more books about both subjects than anybody else in the group combined. She wears bright colors and strange jewelry, and although she’s not what you’d call traditionally dykey, she has a distinct look and a boldness that is simply unmistakable. She’s a butch.

And that’s saying nothing about her face, which is something else entirely. Not masculine, feminine, pretty or ugly. Nothing else works- the only word for her is Annie. You’d have to meet her to know.

She chuckles. “Thought you hated the way I look.”

My nervous smile flattens. There’s a pit in my stomach, because I know I’m about to say something really dumb.

“I used to watch you at the bar, outside smoking. When you were talking to other people, smart people who could keep up with you- you’d smile without thinking about it. And if I was lucky and sitting on the right side, if that other person was funny enough, you’d show your broken tooth.”

She scoffs, embarrassed. She chipped a tooth skating last year and started calling herself a vampire. She’s a good sport about it, but I’ve kinda brought it up in out of nowhere.

“Gee. And I was about to give you credit for being nicer than you seemed.”

“Not like that! Sorry. I just mean that. You don’t let your insecurity get in the way of your joy. Like, ‘fuck anybody who tells me I’m not butch enough!’ That. You’re totally guided by your passions in spite of the world and judgement. I mean, you don’t always bind, that kind of stuff. I wish I could be like that! I dunno, maybe I WAS insecure around you at first, but I never hated you. Maybe I was jealous. Ive never laughed so hard that I forgot my chipped tooth. I’ve never been so happy I forgot to hate my body. And you have that all the time. You’re probably the coolest person I know. Why wouldn’t I f- or, Why wouldn’t I have feelings for you?”

After I embarrass myself with that pointless blathering, I lick the papers and slot them into the canister. I cant hand roll right now, I’m far too shaky.

“You should be. Secure, I mean. You look the part. Tough guy dyke with big biceps and a white tee. People look at you and see butch. You pass. I don’t. I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t part of why I resented YOU.”

I chuckle at her. “I don’t roll out of bed and pass. It’s a lot of work. Uncomfortable work, sometimes. And I’m never sure if the work is me being more true to myself or just overcompensating. I don’t know if I would have changed my diet, or my physique, or any of that shit if I wasnt If I wasn’t terrified of being perceived as a woman. I once threw away slippers because I was afraid someone at home might see them and think I was too feminine for wearing them.”

She laughs. “We’ve all been there, I think.”

I shrug. “That’s being butch, sometimes. It is how it is. Smart people, like you, get over it in time. But for me… the level of hysteric self policing I do for no good reason at all… If I were at all secure, wouldn’t I be allowing myself any margin for femininity?”

She considers. “I guess I just assumed those things didn’t appeal to you.”

I shrug. “Honestly, most of it doesn’t. Like, I’m not dealing with internalized misogyny when I say I would never EVER wear heels or makeup. But some of it does! There’s some stuff I always wanted to try but I’d just be terrified that people would use it as ‘proof’ to say I’m not ‘man’ enough. As if man even means anything. But, still, you know?”

Annie is quiet for a moment before she asks to clarify.

“Like what kind of stuff?”

I fidget. “Like… like submission, I guess.”

Silence again. My ears are hot.

“Have you never…?”

“Not since I was a ‘straight girl’. If you’d even count that. And by the time I came out I was too afraid of being seen as feminine by my partners to risk it. But I always wondered if it was bad just because it was men. Like, maybe I’d like it if it were someone…”

I trail off, incapable of finishing this thought. It’d be too real if I said it out loud.

“Someone-” Annie resets. “ who wasn’t a man?”

I clear my throat. I have to say it.

“Someone like you.”

Annie stares me down. It’s obvious by now, as if it hadn’t been for like three years. Annie isn’t exactly private about her desires, and all of us in our little queer group in town know the rumors of what kind of stuff she gets up to. (Some of my luckier friends have experienced it firsthand.) The truth is, I didn’t just want to be bossed around by some random lesbian in the typical way. If that were the case I would have had many opportunities already. I wanted her.

I am still stone, or, at least I think so. It’s been a reckoning with what I want for a few years now. Some parts of it feel incompatible. Some times I used to wonder if the way I like it is even something that exists. It’s been easier to just be a stone top, and I certainly don’t dislike it, but it’s not the entire truth. Then I met Annie. I had privately fantasized about dom bottoms, especially the pretty twinkish transmasc ones before. But putting a face to that daydream, thinking about giving her everything she wants, doing everything she tells me to… Of course, she hated me right away, and I’d never overstep, so I just admired from a distance. Which apparently only made her hate me more.

She stands from her little fold out chair and approaches me, closing the distance. She props a knee up on my lap, leaning into my space.

“You sure you want someone LIKE me…” she tips my chin up for us to meet eyes. “Or just me?”

Heat shimmers across my face and ears, and I know I’m bright red.

“Annie.” My hand rests at her jawline, trembling.

She takes the lumpy hand rolled cigarette from my hand.

“Light.” It’s not quite a question, not yet a command. But I obey.

She tips her head back as she takes a long drag, holding the breath for a moment too long, and then blows it in my face. My eyes water and eyelids flutter against the smoke. I bite my lip to contain a subtle whimper.

“I can’t believe you’ve been right under my nose.”

I sense a movement in her tone, a tautness and pull. Like she’s lacing up. She takes another pull, drawing me in by the chin to shotgun. Annie leans toward me, foreheads together and lips only barely apart. I try to lean into her mouth, but she stills me and tuts.

“No, no. Just take it.”

Christ alive. She holds me right where I am and lets me take her breath without kissing her lips. I try to slow my open-mouthed panting enough to inhale it. My eyes shut and I pray with everything I’ve got that she’ll let me kiss her tonight, if I behave. I want to behave.

Annie takes a seat in my lap, straining the little camper chair’s one person capacity. She takes turns switching off the cigarette between herself and shotgunning me. I know better than to speak unless spoken to, so the minutes pass by with only the sound of my breathing to fill them. As we hit the end, she leans back over herself to stub it out on the back of her hiking boot, and says something I completely miss. I was too focused on the curve of her neck into her collarbone, licked gently by flame and shadow.

“What?” I mumble.

She laughs. “I said you’re hard.”

I look aside, fists clenched at my sides. I guess at this angle, she can feel what she’s sitting on.

Annie runs her fingers through my hair. “If you want this, I mean like right now, tell me.”

I’m already ready. My body isn’t moving, but my mind is at its knees. I want it right now.

“Yes.” I nod, trembling fingers latching onto her belt loops.

“You sure?”

“Yes.” I’m slightly panting as she traces fingertips up my neck. “Please.”

Annie thumbs over my bottom lip, all confidence. She knows just how bad I want it, and that it’s all up to her when or if I get it.

“Please?” Annie’s holding back, maybe to tease. It’s working.

I don’t know what she’s trying to prompt me to say, but I’d say it a hundred times if she’d let me kiss her. I feel stupid and desperate and out of my body completely. I could give a shit if all my teeth are chipped and everybody knows. Annie’s in my lap.

She can see it on me now, the response she wanted. The feeling of control lids her eyes. She looks me up and down, and gives me what I asked so nicely for.

Annie’s lips are soft and full, and she kisses sweeter than I’d imagined. I know I’m shaking, and I hope she’ll chalk it up to the cold. She doesn’t open her mouth into mine much, just lets me enjoy this moment I’ve been waiting for without thinking about anything that might come next. She trails little incendiary touches up my torso and lets her arms rest at my shoulders, wrapping me in thick wool and flannel. Forgetting my hesitation, I wrap my arms around her too.

We both taste like campfire coals and ash and the river on the fifth of July. Spent smoke. The aftermath of the release of our grand romantic kinetic energy. All this waiting, and that explosive moment. After it all, it’s just me and the butch of my dreams. Annie pulls away first.

“Tell me how. Tell me clearly. I don’t fuck people who don’t know their own boundaries.”

I pause. “Nothing under the boxers. Chest is okay I think. No biting. I’m not into most pain stuff, but like, hair pulling and face slapping is appealing I guess. I like it because it’s degrading, not really because it hurts. And I really like… uh-“

This is almost too embarrassing to admit to someone who knows my full name and address and all my friends. I really hope I stay away from her bad side after today.

“I really like, um. Being called puppy.”

She leans back and her eyes go big. This has surprised her immensely and pleasantly. “Oh, you’re so sweet!” She peppers kisses to my neck, very soft. I think she’s trying to make sure I’m not self conscious about it. “I never get to play with puppies. This is gonna be so fun.”

I stutter. “Do I need like, a safeword or something?”

“Not unless saying ‘stop’ is gonna be a difficult for you in the moment. I never ever do any ‘no means yes’ kind of play though, so if I get the sense you’re uncomfortable I’ll stop. Though I’d really appreciate it if it’s more verbal. I don’t know your body yet, and I can’t always tell.”

“I can tell you. I don’t think I’m- I don’t think I’ll go quiet.”

“No?” She combs back my curls teasingly. “You loud, puppy?”

I’m stunned beyond reaction. She chuckles.

“Wonder if I can make you bark.”

I feel like I need to take a lap from that one. That crazy rollercoaster sinking feeling drops from my throat straight to my cunt. I would like that very much.

“Aww, weren’t you just saying you don’t get shy? That’s alright. Maybe better to save that for later, we don’t wanna wake up Ryan and them.”

I nod, a little lightheaded. “So there’s gonna be a later?”

Annie muses. “Depends. You gonna be a good boy?”

“Yes.”

She draws me in for another long, soft kiss.

“Good. For today, you’re not touching me unless I tell you to. Feel free to beg anyways, though. I like the way you say ‘please’. Got it?”

“Yes.”

She seems content with that. My hands return to my sides. Annie starts to grind her hips into mine. My eyes slam shut and I try to restrain my helpless sounds. Through the wincing and whimpering I can hear Annie’s smile start to darken.

“Y’know I really DID think you were kidding, puppy.” She traces a finger down my collarbone. “Looks can be deceiving.”

She rolls her waist down into me, concentric circles getting smaller and faster each time she grinds.

“Open your mouth?” She asks it like a question, testing the waters. I obey on instinct, and she marvels. “Good puppy!”

Fuck. Fuck. A needy noise escapes my open mouth, and she gently wraps her thumb and first finger around the base of my jaw, keeping me open for her. She makes no move to spit or shove fingers inside, just stares as drool beads at the end of my tongue, ready to drip all over myself. She tilts my head in different directions for better views, reveling in my useless tears and moans.

“Ohhh, I can’t believe you’ve been holding out on me all this time.” She reaches down to the fly of her pants, using her unoccupied hand to touch herself. She gasps lightly, finding a comfortable rhythm.

I whine, open mouthed and jealous. I wanna touch it so bad. Thank god I’m allowed to beg.

“S-sir-“

She grasps my neck slightly.

“No, no, no puppy- you’re gonna call me my NAME.” She snakes a hand through my hair, tugging my head firmly to the side. She whispers into my neck- “People get names. But you aren’t a person right now, are you?”

I pinch my eyes shut and hold back a deep moan.

“Answer me.” She yanks my hair, hard.

“No.” I can’t say any more than that. I’m trying to keep it together.

“No, you’re not. What are you?”

I was hoping to hold out longer, not to get too worked up too fast. I have a little bit of dignity, don’t I?

She slides her hips up and down in a torturously slow pattern, and I can just barely hear how wet she is while her fingers pump in and out.

“Y-your puppy. I’m your puppy, Annie.”

She rewards me with a deep kiss, her tongue slipping all the way in and brushing across the roof of my mouth, making me yelp in surprise. When she wants to, she can kiss rough. I don’t usually get to let the person I’m kissing lead me like this. It’s a thrilling inversion, this thing I’ve been waiting and wishing for. I let her take control however she likes. She pulls away and laughs, all my collected spit stringing the two of us together. She did that on purpose.

“That’s right. Pathetic little puppy. You love to do what I say.”

I swallow. “Yes.”

“And you acted so tough, too! How embarrassing for you to end up like this.”

She unfastens my belt and pants and silently mouths ‘can I?’ to me, an aside in her dominance. I nod, hesitantly. I want her to use me however she likes, but I didn’t expect I’d need to hardpack today. It’s just my everyday soft packer, not really for anything besides alleviating dysphoria, much less penetration. But if she wants it, then by all means it’s hers to use.

“That must have been so hard for you, huh? Acting tough. Acting like you’re not just a worthless desperate toy.”

She strokes the back of her hand over my jeans, giving only the lightest sensation.

“Annie, please. I-“

She stuffs her fingers into my mouth, the ones she just had inside her. I’m not even mad she’s keeping me quiet, she just tastes so good.

“I’m so glad I get to see you like this. Aren’t you?”

I nod, but she does it for me anyways, dragging my head up and down with the fingers in my mouth. I feel so used, and I want more.

“Dumb little butch puppy. My favorite type of whore to use.”

Jesus Christ. My vision is starting to tilt and spin as I whimper. Annie is doing a number on me.

“Do you like that? You like when I degrade you?”

I nod shyly. She kisses my forehead.

“I’m gonna use your cock now, sweetheart, and you’re going to keep still and take it.”

Through the haze of my dizziness, I shake my head. Annie removes my fingers, pausing with concern.

“Y-you can’t.” I sputter.

“No?” She softens, worried she’s overdone it. I hold her spit-slick hand in reassurance.

“I’m not… uh, packing hard.”

“Ohh, I see.” The gears turn in her head. “You CAN’T get hard for me, can you? I’m sorry, I didn’t know. Sweet puppy.” She presses a kiss under my chin.

She breaks for a moment and peppers me with gentle kisses and insisting squeezes to my packer. It’s nice, and it makes my head get even fuzzier. Then she gets mean again.

“You know, I feel sorry for you-“ she reaches under my jeans to the fly of my packing shorts, fingers gently stretching the soft elastic. My back arches as she touches me, even indirectly. I groan. “You want it so bad, but you can’t get hard. Poor thing.”

She brushes over the silicone of my packer with an almost condescending air, patting it like the hood of a car. I swear to god I can feel every fingertip. I can’t get hard for her, no matter what she does or how completely and totally I want to submit to her. Annie knows this, of course. That’s what she’s mocking me for. She’s on the money, though, because this is definitely my sort of my thing.

“Please, Annie, can you use my fingers?”

She glares. “No.”

“I wanna please you, however I’m allowed to. I want-“

She grasps my chin firmly, tugging my jaw open and spitting into my open mouth. She laughs as I accept my humiliation.

“What would you do for it, puppy?”

“What?”

“What would you do for the chance to fuck me?”

I keep fists at my sides, squirming as she traces fingertips along my packer. She’s stroking up the shaft, and I feel a parallel ache under my boxers. Every movement she makes on my packer mirrors itself in my body, phantom sensation. My legs pinch together and I try to get my heaving breaths to slow. I cant focus enough for a specific answer, so I beg.

“I would do anything. Anything you tell me.”

Annie smirks. “Woooow, anything? How obedient. You must really like that, huh babe?”

God, hearing Annie call me babe is too much. I’ve been wanting this forever. It’s more enticing to be ‘babe’ than to be her puppy. Makes me think about what it’d be like to be with her full time.

“Mmmh, I can feel how desperate you are right now. It’s a shame you can’t get hard for me.”

I close my eyes again. It’s kind of a habit when I’m feeling too much too fast. Between our hips, I can feel the pressure of her movements, just barely enough to torment. She rights my shoulders insistently, commanding me not to look away. Annie whispers in a husky tone.

“Bet you’d like it if I was all bent over and submissive. Bet that’s what you’re used to. Tough guy like you, probably seen a hundred pretty bois and girls faking it for you, calling you daddy. Good for your ego, right?”

“Annie-“ I whimper. She’s grinding down hard against me, and I feel it all.

“You always get to be the big power dyke. But that’s not what you WANT, huh, puppy?”

“No.” I don’t feel myself speak, but I hear it. “No, it’s not.” I moan.

“Noooo, it isn’t, is it?” She pats my head condescendingly. “You wanna be someone’s toy. You wanna be an obedient little puppy.”

“F-fuck-“ I stammer.

She slaps me, quick and hot across my jawline. Her face has turned stony. “Language.”

“S-sorry, sir- Um. Annie.” I said sir again. I know not to make that mistake twice, or I’ll be in trouble. It thrills me knowing that I’m probably going to anyway.

Her sternness recedes. “Listen to yourself. Can’t remember the rules.” She traces fingers over my collarbone, making me flinch. “So hard to think straight like this. You feeing dizzy yet, puppy?”

My body stutters under hers, trying fruitlessly to buck my packer into her. My head feels warm and kinda buzzy. It’s hard to think, the way she moves over me and hangs onto the last syllable of every word for just a breath too long. I really am getting dizzy.

“You keep saying ‘sir’. You ever had a Sir before, puppy?”

I shake my head, a little to stupid to speak. Not too stupid to moan.

“Where’d you pick that up then, I wonder? That little habit, how did that creep its way in?”

Annie carries on asking me embarrassing questions. As she continues, she reaches back to her zipper. Annie ruts down on my packer, and I feel her two fingers stroking away from between layers of fabric and silicone. I can feel all the movement as it presses into me- I’ve been extra sensitive to even the slightest touch on T. Since starting I’ve also lost all my endurance. I used to be able to top for hours on end and never even get close to cumming, but now all it takes is a sexy butch in my lap and I’m having to count to ten and breathe slow to hold on.

I feel the pressure and Annie’s own growing need to cum instead of seeing it; I can’t look away from her eyes. When my focus wanes, or I try to look aside, she firmly corrects me. The looking is intense and uninterrupted. It gives me this deepening feeling, like I’m going outside my body. At some point, I lost concentration on her words, but an errant moan punctuates her and snaps me back.

“Ahhh. Do you-“ she reorients her focus from touching herself back on her little submission speech. “Do you think about Sirs a lot? Do you fantasize about being bossed around?”

I don’t answer because I can’t focus on what she’s saying right now. But for the record, the answer is yes.

“Sweet puppy. I can do that for you. You don’t have to do anything. I’ll take good care of you. Would you like that?”

I nod, the movements of my head getting lazy and loopy. Annie kisses my forehead.

“Good boy.”

She guides me to my knees. It feels so right. Damp leaves crunch under the palms of my hands. I look up at Annie, emptyheaded as she pulls her jeans partways down. She’s got a full thicket of dark curly hair that wraps up to her stomach and down to her calves, collecting into cute little curls in front. She has more hair here than on her head. That’s the way I like my dykes.

“Gonna put that mouth of yours to work.”

I grin stupidly, and get to it. Annie props her knee on the seat of the camping chair, tucking me head in tight into her wetness. I don’t wanna think. I just wanna be good and take it.

Annie is dripping down her thighs, coating my chin the moment I make contact. I don’t waste time with the typical tender thigh kisses and teasing, I just dive in. I think she likes the roughness from the way she yanks my hair sharply. My tongue brushes the underside of her clit.

“Fuuuck.” She grunts. “Good boy.”

Her hips open wider, reflexively responding to the touch. I’m definitely not unfamiliar with giving head- I’ve done it more than my fair share of times, but this feels different. Annie is right when she says there’s a difference between topping and dominated. I could be strapping or fingering or fucking her any way in this moment -and I would be lucky to- but it wouldn’t be dominant just because it’s penetrative. Every rock of her hips reminds me who is in charge, and I can’t pretend for a second that I’d prefer if it was me. Her wetness rolls off my tongue, all other thoughts faint and twinkling in the vast emptiness of my awareness.

My tongue drags up her slit tentatively, still warming her up. Annie is very responsive, guiding my mouth with forceful shoves and tugs to my hair. She mutters curses and little encouragements that make my thoughts melt and vanish. I switch between movements every so often, reveling in the sensation of her body in my mouth. Some things make her shake, others make her grunt. Each reaction and bit of praise makes my chest warm and my brain fuzzy. The tip of my tongue grazing her clit makes her moan and arch involuntary.

“G-god, you’re so fucking good at that.” She trembles, a bit too preoccupied to be rough.

I suck lightly, massaging her inner labia with my tongue. She tastes salty, a little sour too. It’s musky and warm in a way that makes me wild. My lower lip strokes her up and down and I switch to gentle flicks over the head of her clit with my tongue. Her hips rock into me.

“Jesus, ahh- Right there.” She whines.

She pulls in my chin, angling me how she likes. I feel used and controlled and thrilled at every unspoken instruction. The way she fills my mouth with smoke and spit and dripping cunt and whatever else she could possibly want to. The way empties my head. I dive my tongue into her and suck her stiff clit.

Annie braces a hand on the back of the chair. “Fuck. Fuck. Keep going, puppy, I’m gonna come.”

I keep sucking right there, faster and harder. Annie thrusts into my face and yanks on my hair so hard it feels like it’s gonna rip out. Each pitch of her hips pushes my shoulders into the seat of the chair. I feel so good being pushed between her body and the ground, it feels like where I’m supposed to be. I just wanna be good.

Annie cums, screaming out and gushing into my open mouth. I can taste her pulse on my tongue.

“Good boy.” She pants. “Good boy.”

Her knees are shaking too hard to keep thrusting, so I grab her by the belt loops and guide her hips to ride it out.

“O-oh my fucking- Damn, babe-“ she throws her head back and laughs, a little delirious. “Damn.”

She holds onto my forearms with grasping, shaking fingers. She’s so wet and pulsating against my tongue, the taste is entrancing.

“Jesus, you’re strong.” She chuckles between overstimulated moans. “Fuck. Good boy.”

I keep going, enjoying the aching throbs and feelings of her body against mine. It’s not hard for me to basically pick her up to rut against my mouth at this angle. She seems to enjoy it a lot, tugging big fistfuls of my hair and laughing in that raspy devious tone. Annie tells me to keep going, and I listen like a good boy. A big part of me just really likes being so close to her. I really hope we get to do this again. When it starts to feel like too much, Annie steps back shakily.

“Aw, you- ah- you liked it that much.” Annie pulls me to look in her eyes with a firm tug on my fringe. “Say thank you.”

My eyes flutter open a little deliriously. I grin like an idiot, cum running down my chin.

“Thank you.”

Annie smiles too, taking a big breath. She wipes some wetness from the corner of my mouth with her thumb. She exhales slow, blinking herself to reality.

“Wow. Sorry, just- that wasn’t what I thought was gonna happen tonight.” She shimmies back all the way into her jeans, not enjoying the sudden realization that her bare ass is out in the woods.

“Me neither.” I shrug, still giddily smiling.

She looks at me in a different way than I’ve ever seen her look at anything. It’s sincere and gentle, not preemptively scathing in the way she has to be most of the time. She sits on the ground beside me and leans into my chest.

“Are you cold?”

I hum. “Little bit. You?”

“Yeah.”

She nods. We lie still together and catch our breaths for a minute.

“So, what now?” I stare into the fire. It’s on its last legs, the last logs burnt down into splintering coals.

“What do you mean? Like right now?”

“Just” I gesture vaguely. “In general.”

Annie thinks for a moment, curled into my chest. “I just wanna make sure you’re ok for a second.” She sits up a bit. “You’re feeing okay about all that, right? It was kind of a lot. It’s okay to feel weird, if-“

I grab her hands, reassuring. “I’m okay. It was a lot, but… yeah. It was really good.” I kiss her palm.

She nods and relaxes back into me. “That was your first time being, uh, submissive?”

“Mhm.” I rest my chin on the top of her head. “Big fan so far.”

She laughs. “You’re pretty good at it for a first timer.”

We both sigh.

“Is it… gonna be a regular occurrence now? Semi-regular?” She asks nervously.

I try to mask my eagerness. Hell yes. Annie has my full attention from now on. I mean, she did before, too. I’ve been pining for longer than I care to say.

“It can be. I would like it to be. Would you..?”

Annie squeezes my hand. “Yeah. I’m just surprised. But not unhappy. Very happy with it, actually.

I think for a moment before I decide to be stupid. It’s not a very long moment, though.

“I know you wanna do this, and I want to too, I’m very excited for that- but I do wanna also say that, um. I really like you, Annie. I have for a long time. And I don’t just wanna have sex, you know? I will, if that’s what you want, but I also wanna like, have a chance with you. If that’s also what you want.”

She thinks. “That’s… a bigger question. Hm.” Annie ribs a thumb over our clasped hands. “How about… you take me out on a date. I cant make promises about anything. I literally only just realized you don’t hate my guts. But um, you’re sweet. I wanna see where this goes. And I don’t wanna ruin that by being stupid and going too fast. So let’s just do one date. For now.”

I nod, fake suave. Im barely restraining my excitement. “Yeah. That works for me.”

She chuckles. “You don’t have to play it cool, dude. My head’s on your chest, I can hear your heartbeat going fuckin nuts. You’re not fooling me.”

I burst out laughing. “I’m trying to be the tough guy here!”

“Yeah, well, I see through your whole thing now. You’re really just a corny romantic.”

She kisses under my chin, and it’s so fucking disarming, I really stand no chance. She has me where she wants me, and wherever she wants me is where I wanna be too.

[velvetvexations]

Not to sound self aggrandizing or anything but like, I feel like it's pretty easy not to be purposefully mean to people? Like I'll be the first to admit I sometimes have initial reactionary thoughts that are bigoted (in this case transmisogynistic) on account of growing up in a society that is bigoted. I'm not perfect;no one is. But like, it takes all of three seconds to think "hey would it be acting like an asshole to make my own insecurities/imperfections/lack of growth someone else's problem" and just not post things online that make it seem like trans women have it easy. Like sometimes I'll find myself feeling resentful/jealous over transfemmes visibility, or perceived ability to pass easier than I can. But like, I take a deep breath, listen to the lived experiences of transfemmes, and remember that I don't know their lives better than they do and that's my own insecurity about myself talking, not a realistic understanding of reality. Visibility might feel like a privilage when youve been erased, but it's just a different side of the same negative coin and all that

I do the same thing with nonbinary people sometimes even despite being nonbinary myself! I just don't act on my knee jerk responses and assumptions. It's so easy to have a knee jerk reaction of "I'm hurting how could you be hurting when you're so different from me", but it's also easy to think am I focusing my ire on deserving targets or just the ones closest to me and not put my words into the world until I've worked through that

So I can empathize with transfemmes who feel like it would be easier to be any other type of trans (the grass is always greener), but like it's not hard to take a second to think, is this based in reality or based on my own limited perspective and does this line up with other people's lived experiences

(also this is not "I'm better than transfemmes" ofc cause it's only a small minority who do this, and plenty of other trans people do the same thing in other directions etc. It's a widespread issue among all groups. This is just in the specific context of current discourse. It just feels weird to watch people be seemingly purposefully obtuse and cruel when to me it's just a rule of politeness not to do that kind of thing)

It requires a degree of self-awareness, which is sorely lacking in some people.