#bc God just simply won’t let me have a man/woman

[kissitbttr]

OH! but imagine riding miguel in his office likeeeeeeeeee 🤯🤯🤯🤯 his strong hands helping guide your hips and his tip is hitting that sweeeet sweeet spot in you and he’s so close. like really close.

he would literally be like “almost there mi princesa, almost almost almost—” until one of the spider people opens the door and sees y’all…

yall ovulation cycle are on the same month or what???🤨🤨

BUT HELL YEA?!

-

“come on baby, come on” he grunts against your ear as his large hands move around your soft cheeks. slapping and squeezing, encouraging you to go faster. “feels good, hm? daddy’s cock filling you up just right? such a pretty mami, look at you.”

and he means that. he wonders how the hell did he get so lucky to have an angel looking this pretty when she rides him? how did he get lucky to watch her ass moves in a way he has never seen on a girl before?

most importantly, he’s so fucking lucky that he gets to be the only man who can see you like this up close.

with a nod, you begin to snap your hips against him even harder and faster. his praises never fail to make you mewl as you feel yourself getting even wetter.

“s-so good, daddy, I-“ you cut yourself off with a yelp when he lands a hard smack on your ass. “fuck you feel so good inside me. so big i almost can’t take it”

his lips stretches into a lazy smirk, loving how you continue to feed his ego. his hand then travels upwards to softly grip around your throat, just enough to make you choke a little.

he admires the way you sound when he’s deep inside you. especially when you’re bouncing up and down on his hard shaft because it means that you get to be in control. and he has no problem with that. he loves it when you’re on top. but it’s just makes it harder for him to hold on a little longer.

“almost there mi vida” he heaves out a heavy groan, leaning his back comfortably against his office chair. “fuck, i’m gonna—“

before he gets to finish his sentence—and actually finishes inside of you—he hears the sound of his office door opens, and it’s none than other the person he despises for always seem to be invading his privacy,

“hey Miguel, I’ve got some—oh shit!” Peter shrieks when he almost got hit with a small lamp, that’s when he realizes what’s going on. his eyes go wide as his cheeks turn red. “shit shit, I’m so so-“

“get the fuck out, now!” Miguel barks at him, pointing his finger at the door looking absolutely irritated and angry that a man catches a glimpse of his girl naked. you aren’t stopping though. you continue to ride Miguel even faster and keep on moaning like a bitch in the heat.

“fucking knock, next time you piece of shit!”

feeling embarrassed, Peter only nods as he look away. “right! got it!” before he quickly shuts the door, not wanting to make the boss angry even more,

“you’re so mean, baby” you say pretending to be upset, looking down at him with heavy breathing. “he didn’t mean to see me like this.”

“you like it when I’m mean” he growls, knowing that it turns you on and it does. he reaches up to grab both of your tits, squeezing them harshly. “you’re mine and in no fucking way i am sharing”

-

[slickchickchocolatier]

man tell me about heelel being down bad im up for that 🤒😫😩

Broooo… let me begin by saying that heelel…he’s like the most dangerous heelead (because of who he is…you know… 😈) but the dude has spent his entire life (aside from the time he served under God as the first arch angel) he had become the master of torture and gruesome death. (Remember what he did to that succubus?) just think of an immortal being so hateful and disgruntled, just releasing all sorts of demons onto the universe and wanting to destroy humanity in the most horrific manner…and then he sees you. YOU.

Heelel is the type to….

- never beg. You will always be the one to beg, and he loves it. Whether you’re begging him to stop or keep going, it’s all the same to him. Because he is so obsessed with ever ounce of emotion and expression you give out, he wants to see all sides and angles of you (like all the heeleads) but heelel is a bit more brutal about it since he’s so dang powerful.

- dress you in whatever he wants to see you in (which is anything sheer or barely covering you bc he loves to see you as bare as possible. (Remember the later chapters of Se7en?)

- loves to see you cry and laugh. He’ll gladly be the cause of your tears and the cure for them. But lord help the one who becomes the cause….thats a huge death penalty (and not a good one) for whomever hurts you or makes you upset in any way. Even if it’s the tiniest bit. If someone stepped on your foot and you simply say “ouch” man’s eyes would grow sinisterly wide, mouth would split in the corners (like a joker smile) and he’d develop a very eerie smile while he does something terrible to that person. Even if it was an accident, he’d be so merciless. And it could be anywhere from burning that person from the inside out, slowly splitting them open (starting with the feet) or skinning them alive…the possibilities of torture is endless. The only thing that could save that person, is you…only you. And even then (depending on the degree of the offense) he might honor your request. He might…it will be hard to contain him bc anyone who hurts you is a dead man or woman.

-will get you whatever you want. I made the reader kind of vague because every reader is different, but whether youre the type that loves material things or simple values that nature can provide like flowers, he will get it for you. No matter what it is. If you want a garden, he’ll create a planet just covered in all types of beautiful lush plants and flowers, and will take you there every day and night so you can enjoy it to your hearts content. The only thing he won’t give to you is if you want to see friends or family, bc he wants to keep you all to himself and in his mind, you shouldn’t need to see anyone since you have him. Insisting on this would lead to a punishment that you do not want. Man is selfish and is going to keep you all to himself. Whether you want it that way or not. He’s unapologetic about it to.

- even though he won’t share you with anyone, he likes to show you of. You’re his queen, his goddess, his Aphrodite. He is going to flare you off like a diamond ring.

-will be so rough with you if you’re resisting or not making him happy. Just behave and do what he says, which is to sit, look pretty for him, and let him love you…eventually you will love him back no matter what

-when he isn’t rough and teaching you a lesson, man is as smooth as the finest silk. I usually pictured him normally doing the nasty with reader and being kind of a menacing and taunting bastard. For instance, I didn’t end up including this in the actual series, but thought about it (maybe I’ll make a short piece of it?) but I had imagined a scenario when after he took reader back to Hell with him, he was having a ‘session’ with reader (bc he loves you too much to not keep his hands off you) so while being on top and restraining your wrists with one hand, I had imagined reader looking away and sobbing. He calmly says “look at me.” And when reader looks up, he had a creepy face moment (kind of similar to the one that I attached in the story…but worse) like his iris shrink and become like small beads and the sclera is expanded, and he forms a very scary smirk. If I could draw it out, I would. It is fucking creepy and the most horrific thing you’ll ever see as it scares you so bad, you almost feel your heart stop beating. Reader turns her face away and screams and squirms, and he’ll just laugh it off and continue (heelel is sadistic and since he has the ability to alter his face like that….lets just say he likes to scare you and make you feel uncomfortable). But as time goes on he kind of tames down a bit and doesn’t do it as much, or not at all. By now (since Se7en is over a year old now…I believe) he’s at the stage where he likes to see you smile and happy more than ever. Once in a while he still wants to see you cry or fearful, but that’s become a reservation. For when you misbehave. Now, all he can focus on is how beautiful you are when you smile, how lovely your laugh sounds, and how much he just wants to hold on to you and talk to you about the moon and the stars, and create constellations for you while you both lay in bed recovering from an intense orgasm.

-heelel loves your long hair. I pictured him being into long hair. When you’re sitting by his feet and resting your face against his thigh while he’s sitting f on his throne, he’ll having a piece of your hair and play with it delicately. His fingers will rub the strands together so he can feel how silky and smooth it is. One of the things he loves seeing is your nipple piercings poking through your hair as it lays against your breasts. Makes him go feral.

-he loves your eyes. Despite you becoming immortal, heelel will never allow you to gain abilities to shapeshifter or alter your appearance like he can. He won’t allow it. He loves the way you are and will never permit for you to gain the magical ability to change the color of your eyes, hair, or the natural style/state it is in. He loves the way you are, and you are going to stay that way for him. Even if you have insecurities, don’t matter. Whatever body issues you have, he loves them and if you haven’t learn to embrace them, he will force the issue in a way. He won’t let you change, he wants you to be the very same way he saw you the first time, forever.

-all it takes is a look. A single look. If you look at him the wrong way (or the right) intentionally or not, he’ll get ready really quick and is going to want you so bad…to the point where it hurts.

- heelel just loves the hell out of you. Would sever his own limbs for you. If it made you happy to stab him repeatedly, he’d just stand there and let you while laughing. He obviously cannot die, and while he continues to bleed and rejuvenate, he’ll wait until you’re so tired and you slowly fall to your knees as you stab him one last time. He’ll brush off his shoulders and leans down to pick you up and stand you straight again, and say something like “feel better?” At that point, you’re doomed. Bc whether you answer or not, he’ll be like “good. My turn.” And he’s going to do a lot of stabbing…but not with a knife. 😏

- everything you do turns him on. So expect to be f*cked (both brutally and softly…like vanilla smex) and filled up (he’s not wasteful. You’re either going to swallow it with your vagina or your mouth, either way, you’re going to be a cream filled doughnut by the time he gets down with you.) and he will do this multiple times a day, won’t really care if you’re sore. If you e been good, he’ll give you a break and take you out and about.

-he loves your wings and will play with the small black portion in the undercarriage of your wing. That is a small part of him that reflects from within you, and he loves that.

- his favorite past time hobby is to have you both naked, you straddled on his lap (sometimes stuffed with his d*ck, sometimes just having it rested against your tummy) and his arms are wrapped around your waist as he’s sucking and kissing your tits. He loves that. He’ll squeeze your buttcheeks and massage them from time to time, while his mouth never breaks free from your areolas. Like…they’ll become super tender and sore with how long he’ll make you sit there and let him caress each one with his tongue. Even if you ask him a question, he’ll talk with his mouth full of your breast and his eyes will be peacefully closed while he does it. Like he’s just relishing in the moment.

- he also loves slow dancing with you. As you both are dancing under the large moon, he’ll constantly rub his hand on the side of your neck, gently pushing your hair aside and will lick, kiss, bite, and smell it. He’ll press his lips against the skin and will say “I love you…more than I could ever love anything else. You’re all that I never knew I needed in life. The only one that can heal me, but also be the death of me.”

-he’s very tormenting. Don’t let the last chapters of the series fool you, he has his tender moments (and when he’s tender…he is just…perfection) but when he is being ‘playful’ and just has that “you haven’t cried in a while…kind of want to see it again.” And will do whatever it is to make you cry, usually it’s to scare you (then comfort you afterwards) or to give you some pain that’s all in the line of pleasure. Something like biting you hard on your inner thigh or pounding you to the point where he’s poking your brain. Stuff like that.

But yeah, those are some examples off the top of my head lol. Heelel is amenace. But you’ll always be safe and loved by him.

[milkacchan]

More self-indulgent peaky blinders x reader bc I've always struggled with my femininity as a woman, especially when it came to trying on feminine clothes like dresses.

"No. I don't want to." You mutter, pouring the boiling water over coffee grounds.

"Why not? It's just like looking for a suit." Arthur spoke from the table.

"Except it's not." You hum. "The complete opposite, actually."

There was nothing more irritating to you than trying on dresses. Even getting fitted for them, you hated it. Every fucking minute of it.

"Still haven't grown out of that then huh,"

"I don't see why I can't just wear a suit to the damn thing, all of you are." You mumble, ignoring Tommy and taking a sip of your coffee. "I look better in those anyway."

"Is that what this is about?" John sighs, walking in the kitchen. "How many times do we have to tell you? You look beautiful. Always."

"Don't get fucking sappy," you roll your eyes. "I just don't like dresses. Or trying them on." You state, sitting down at the table.

"Nonsense. You love dresses when you feel good in them." Polly cuts in. She sets a plate in front of you.

"Thanks Pol," you nod. "But that's how clothes work, in general. Not dresses."

"But that's what this is. Still the irrational thought you don't look good."

"'Pol," you whine.

"You know, your mother carried you for nine months, gave you that body and face just for you to hate it."

"Pol how many times are you going to use that?" You groan rubbing your face.

"As many times as it takes for it to stick. You don't look bad, at all. I'm not just saying that because I've raised you."

"I look good in suits, yes. Thank you. Why can't I wear one of those?"

"It's too formal of an event, poppet. A suit won't work."

"Pols right," Tommy looks up from his paper. "As much as I'd like to let you wear a suit, it's too formal. We'll have to get you in a dress."

"Tommy.."

"I know, I know, you don't want to. We'll look around some shops, whatever you like We'll get, no questions asked. Whatever color, style- if you feel it looks good on you, we'll get it. And if you really don't see anything you like, we'll get one made, alright?"

You murmured something under your breath.

"What was that?"

"Yes. Fine, yes."

And so it began, within the next hour you were in town with your brothers, dress shopping.

"What about that one?"

"Wouldn't fill it out right." You mutter with hands in your pocket.

"You didn't even look at it poppet,"

"I did, already, over there when Pol was talking about that red one."

Arthur sighed, "Why don't you at least try it on?"

"I suppose so, if it'll make you happy."

"I think Pols got some too," John looks over to you, taking his attention away from the dress he was running his fingers across. "What about this one?"

You turn your attention from Arthur, who was grabbing the one he was eyeing to the one John had pulled. The fabric seemed soft. It was a lovely shade of green, with silver beads that adorned it simply.

"It's nice," you mutter. "Soft," you mumble once you've got your own hands on it.

"Isn't it? I really like the color. I think it'd fit your skin tone."

"Since when did you become so knowledgeable on the things of a woman." You smile.

"Since Esme, she's adamant I learn. I guess she was right that it would help." He hummed, "after all i have to be able to help my baby sister and keep my title as the favorite brother."

"Oh, you think you have that title?" You side eye him and lift dress off the wall.

"Oi," he makes a face, "Who does then?"

You say nothing, just smiling as you take a step back to move to another part of the store.

"Oh come on you have to tell me, come on. Who is it then?"

"Tell you what?"

"Who the favorite is."

"I can't tell you that, power shift and all."

"I've got some dresses dear," Aunt Polly gestures to the ones in her hand. "Let's try these on, okay?"

"I've got one for her too," Arthur holds his up.

"And I picked that one for her to try," John points.

"Mines prettier."

"Oh this is a competition now?"

"Oh Hush. Hand them here." She snaps. "You boys wait out here, we'll come show them once she's in them."

"Yes Pol," the chorus plays.

You make a face but ultimately follow Pol to the back room.

The first one up is a black one with gold beading, all you have to do is look at it before you know you'd not like it.

"No," you immediately turn it down. "I'm sorry aunt Pol, but I really don't like that one."

"Alright," she took a deep breath and set it aside. "Let's try this one then."

The next one was white. It was long, looked like it'd be form fitting to an extent, in the bodice anyway. The skirt was flowy with tassels that made an almost scale pattern. It was pretty, you had to admit.

You stared at it for a few moments before starting on your suit, unbuttoned the shirt (your jacket had been left with Tommy, good lad,) and slipped it off. Followed by your pants and shoes.

You held your arms up and the dress fell down your body.

You hesitantly open the door and walk out to where your brothers are.

"Oh that one's a nice one," John smiles. "Like mine better though."

"'I picked that one out," Tommy grins.

"I mean its nice," you nod, looking at yourself in the big mirror. "But it looks more like a wedding dress Tommy, you trying to see me off already?"

"No," he mumbled, watching you step off the ledge. "Just thought it was pretty "

You wave him off and walk back into the dressing room. The next one is one Pol had picked, she said anyway.

It was a light pink, a color you had to admit you enjoyed, so it was a downer when you looked in the mirror and hated what you saw.

"Let's just try the next one," you mutter

"You don't want to show the boys?"

"No Pol- no I just really want to take it off," you mutter, still scanning your form. 

She stares for a few moments but ultimately nods.

The next is the one Arthur had picked. Red with black beading. Tassels that fell down your arms. It was elegant. You left the room and walked towards the boys.     

"That one's awful nice on you," Pol smiles.

"I have taste, see?" Arthur grins. "Do you like it?"

You stare at yourself in the mirror. "It's...I mean its a nice dress, really."

"But...?" John pushes.

"Not for me. I don't fill it out right. I look like a man."

"If you don't like it, it's no trouble. Try on the next one." Tommy leans back in his chair.

"Sorry Arthur," you mumble.

He just waves it off with a small smile.

Then it's John's choice. The green one, forest silk with the simple sliver beading. It's a longer dress, and honestly you don't mind.

Aunt Pol helps you slip it on. "Oh..." She breathes. You look fantastic. It frames your waist and your hips before falling freely around your legs. It's sleevless, the silk coming up your back in a V to cover your shoulders.

"It's so nice," you whisper, fingers trailing down your sides.

"How do you feel?"

"Like a princess," you hum.

"Go on then, show the boys." Pol all but shoves you through the doors.

"Alright alright," you lift the skirt and hike up the platform.

John was smug. "You like that one don't you?"

"I do," you whisper with a nod, till staring at the dress. "God I love it," you laugh softly.

"Give us a spin," Tommy smiles, moving his hand on a small circle.

And you do. You spin with a stupid grin on your face, looking at your brothers when you've finished. "Does it twirl? Tell me it twirls."

"It twirls," Arthur laughs. "You look beautiful."

"Who's the favorite?"

"Oh hush John,"

"That's the one then?"

"Yes, this is the one." You hummed. "Not to much for you is it?"

"Never," Tommy stands, "go on get dressed, we'll pay and go home."

"Yes Tommy," you step down.

The boys would always take care of you.

[lovingonrepeat]

sometimes i like to think of the little sexy secrets the boys have, like a day everyone was so horny and they jerk off together to porn. its their little secret and theyre so ashamed of it but theyd love to do this again bc yeah this is hot. the problem is... they all disagree abt the type of porn they want so each one of them has their turn and they get to see what turns them on... thinking of wayv hihi

HOLY SHIT ANON, YOUR MIND! ALSO I'VE PUT WAY TOO MUCH THOUGHT INTO THIS IN THE PAST HOUR SO HERE WE GO!

They decide that the fairest way to do this is to go in age order and go from oldest to youngest in picking videos. So that leaves Kun to go first and he's way too embarrassed to put anything he really wants to. He can't help but feel like there's so so many eyes on him and his dirtiest secrets, so even tho he has an exact video in mind that he knows will get him there so so fast, he chooses instead to search around and after he gets yelled at by the other members for taking too long, he finally plays something pretty vanilla but that isn't too embarrassing for him. It's good, but it's not earth shattering, and he knows he's definitely gonna need more than it to really get him where he needs to be to finally ease this tension in his body. But he's decently satisfied in his choice, and he feels like he might be able to look his members in the eye after all is said and done.

That is, until Ten's turn. Everyone had stayed more or less respectfully and awkwardly quiet during Kun's video, with everyone being too embarrassed and self conscious to really touch themselves, despite the ache they were all feeling. But when Ten snatches up the laptop and instantly starts playing a video full of edging and begging and the models in shibari, the tension in the room snaps.

They're not really sure who was the member to make the first move, but suddenly hands are stroking themselves and clothes are long discarded.

It's Sicheng's turn next, and he had been dreading it, but he swears his fingers move on their own accord as he searches for a video and finds one with a guy sucking on a girl's nipples. He has an oral fixation and you cannot convince me otherwise. The video plays and this time, they're sure it's Xiaojun that is the first one to let out a sound, a muffled groan into the back of his hand as the woman praises the man tending to her, and with that, it's not long before the room fills with more than the sounds coming from their laptop.

Xuxi gets the next turn, and he chooses a video with a close-up on a guy being instructed on how to finger his girlfriend to get her off. It's a crowd pleaser in the dorm.

Xiajoun's hands are shaky when it's finally his turn, and he doesn't even hesitate to search for a video that he knows he'll enjoy. Problem is, with the state he's in and his lust filled brain driving his actions, he completely forgets that the video is one that he has saved in his most secret folder of mommy kink videos. The room lapses into stunned silence as the pornstar utters the title for the first time, and Xiaojun swears that if the attention would've been on him for just a second longer, he would've came from the sheer embarrassment alone.

It's Hendery turn where things slow down. He is adamant that he wants to skip his turn, saying that he's just not that into porn, but Xuxi calls bullshit at the raging boner and sounds he's been letting out the entire night. Kun suggests instead that maybe he should be allowed another turn, arguing that he didn't realize the night was going to get this... Intimate, and demanding a redo where he gets to watch something he's into more.

But it's Sicheng that figures it out first, leaning over to ask a question in Hendery's ear that had his face paling and cheeks heating up. They jump on it, demanding Sicheng share with the rest of them, but he refuses, granting Hendery his last shred of dignity as he can feel the grip he has on his most shameful secret slipping away.

They start throwing out kinks left and right to try to find out his secret, with everything from omaroshi to a foot fetish to full on pet play being tossed around. But Yangyang is finally the one who gets it right, asking simply, "It's gay, isn't it?"

Hendery honestly doesn't think he's ever felt more embarrassed in his life than in that moment, as he types into the search and finally clicks play on a video of a guy giving another guy a handjob. Their own highs abandoned for a minute, they all watch intently, weighing in their heads if they're into it or not. No one verbally states an opinion except Xuxi, who leans over and tells Hendery that he made a good choice.

Hendery tries his best to zone out, ignoring his members around him and chase his own high, but he can't when he feels so fucking self conscious. He's shocked out of his thoughts when Ten taps him on the shoulder and asks him to stop touching himself for a minute. His brain hasn't even finished processing Ten's request when he all but screams, directing all attention to himself as Ten wraps his hand around Hendery's dick.

The video is abandoned quickly by all members but Ten as they turn their attention to the scene in front of them. But Ten pays them no attention, instead watching the video and trying his damndest to copy each and every movement exactly. Hendery cannot help but be sure that Ten has done this before, but he can't find it in himself to voice it.

Another debate breaks out when it's Yangyang turn, as they're not sure if they're really ready to know what kinda kinky shit their maknae is into. He argued adamantly for his equal treatment, but rethinks it immediately when they cave and he's actually expected to play something. It's obvious that he didn't think this one through, but they won't let him back out now.

Much to everyone's surprise, he plays a video with male orgasm denial, with lots of begging and edging, and Xuxi swears he's never discovered more of his own kinks in one night.

It's Xiaojun that finally ends up cumming first, as silently as he possibly could when the woman on the screen degrades the guy. Kun follows pretty soon after, with Sicheng cumming next.

It leaves Ten, Xuxi, Hendery and Yangyang left. Ten has abandoned his own quest for release in favor of torturing Hendery, and he can barely keep it together when Ten demands that he asks for his release the way the guy in the video does. Hendery can't bring himself to let everyone hear him beg, so he leans over and whispers pleas into Ten's ear, and Ten accepts it. Hendery's shot headfirst into his orgasm, followed by Yangyang. With Hendery's worn out body next to him, Ten goes back to chasing his own high, and it doesn't take him long at all to get there.

The boys barely register that Xuxi hasn't finished, too busy in their own afterglows until he lets a grunt escape his lips. Hendery notices right away that Xuxi is copying the video as well as he can, and so they wait for the video to end and for the man in the video, as well as Xuxi, to be granted the opportunity to cum. Yangyang can't help but wish he had chosen a video where the guy didn't get to finish, just to see what Xuxi would've done, but he won't bring himself to admit it.

They don't talk about that day again, or about how they notice when Sicheng stares too long at a woman's breasts, about how they notice the way Xiaojun gets weak when a woman is mean to him. Ten and Hendery don't mention the events of this day to each other again, even tho Hendery has so many questions to ask him about it, the most important of which being, "God can we do that again?" Xuxi is left with a confusing tangle of new revelations about his sexual preferences to unravel, and none of them can look Yangyang in the eye anymore when conversations start to take a sexual turn.

And Kun will never mention it to them, but he's secretly grateful that this whole event took place on his laptop, and cannot thank the internet gods enough for the wonderful feature that is the search history. He has definitely watched every video at least five times at this point, not that he'd ever admit it to anyone.

[shorkbrian]

Prelude - I need to stop catching sight of poetry on my explore page lol. This is entirely self-indulgent and very specific cause I’m rotting thru life rn and so if u dislike I understand lol. When I was in the hospital this last time it sucked rlly bad and like the awful horny degenerate I was I kept thinking abt Kirishima and soft sweet Sugawara idk lol

Pairing - Death god Kirishima x Reader

Warnings - Suicide, suicide attempt, no smut. Death. Drunk Drivers. Yandere but only a little bit and cause I can’t voluntarily accept love it has to be forced bc I cannot handle the thot of someone who is sane loving me bc there is no freaking way lol

Music - https://open.spotify.com/track/5Iy1wdO0tMaHwKnfFYtlel?si=-vqod-W6SHia8ui2Hdl_9g 

Adding this one bc it’s like one of my favorites and I wish god I wish and I hope that this year is better than the last amen lol also there’s nothing more sad to me than someone pleading and begging and crying for the year to treat you nicely like bitch u okay? no. the answer is no.

https://open.spotify.com/track/0xRO7EKgYKVB8zKIoiXMDD?si=HYBaiBzjRGmQwfCHgnTUxA

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“It hurts.” You had told him, as the entity sat at the end of your hospital bed.

He often sank heavily onto the nearest surface, as if his bones ached with the weight of his body. You saw him often during those first few days in the hospital, days spent puking up pills, every move you made monitored, doctors and nurses scolding you about the severity of your actions.

You didn’t think they could see the hulking figure that comforted you.

“I”ve heard that it’s supposed to.” The red god of death would think aloud.

“I don’t want it then.” Tears upon your cheeks, soft, misty. “Take it.”

“Your life?” A nod would affirm his question, but the red god would shake his head. “I am no thief. Not a hunter, simply a gatherer of souls. I won’t take what doesn’t belong to me.”

“Then it’s yours, have my life. A gift, from me to you. Don’t make me live it any longer…..”

His sadness would show in his eyes.

But the soul-crushing hugs that were provided were admittedly a tiny bit nice.

“You’re far too sweet for your own good. I’ll receive your life when the time is right, not before.”

“But I don’t want it!” You sobbed into his shoulder, the god seeming to be your only friend in the world.

Hands stroked along your back, soft shushing sounds as the god attempted to soothe you in the ways he knew how. Soft touches, kind truths. “Many don’t.  But it happens - life happens anyways. All you can do is find the things that make it less painful.”

“That’s not enough, it still hurts. I can’t stand it.” The sobs wracking your body didn’t stop the entity from holding you.

“I know, and I’m sorry.”

——

He’s patient and kind.

Surprising for a god who’s work involves collecting souls as if they were taxes. A job that should be bitter and tiresome, but the entity has infinite softness resting inside of him.

He walks with you, as you get “better“.

You watch him stop to marvel at flowers, to study the way dew drips from trees in little drops, eyes wide and wondering as crows startle from their perches and take off with noisy weeping.

This courtyard is drab and brown, a prison. Safe.

Yet the god of death treats the space gently, with respect. He thanks the old walls for standing, the worn stones beneath your feet. Their service is noted and appreciated. He’s so tender it almost makes you sick.

But you come to realize that he’s simply allowing himself to be vulnerable, to experience the earth and the beings in it.

For as soon as one recognizes vulnerability, which is so different from weakness or tragedy, one experiences a sense of tenderness. Without tenderness, pleasure means nothing. You need only look at the animals to see the truth of that. It is gentleness that distinguishes their playing from the actions they constantly take to ensure their survival.

You ask why he walks with you, why he is so focused on seeing you get “better“.

A soft smile, a meeting of eyes. “There is an end to your pain, sometime and somewhere. It’s most likely not here, not in this place at least-“ and he looks around, at the cold walls, the other sick patients, the staff. All human.

“-It will come. But for now, it’s enough to try and seek it out ourselves.”

You must look more sick than you really are, talking to thin air like that.

——-

Once you return home, the red god writes you letters.

He’s an old soul, an old god. You’re sure if you asked, he’d be able to recount the very first souls he reaped, a man and a woman, sinful and sweet but in love.

The letters help you get out of bed. What new stories or little quips the god has written pique your curiosity, even when you don’t want to move, don’t want to be awake or alive.

He tells you stories about certain souls, how each one is infinitely interesting, how they all interconnect.  How some of them struggle against him, however fruitlessly. But he’s not the one who brought about their death, he’s there to comfort and guide.

Other souls, (“souls like yours” he writes) welcome him, run to his arms like a long lost lover. Their death was terrifying by their own hand, and it hurt. He can’t take away that pain, those memories. The red god says he wishes those souls find peace wherever he must take them afterwards, or at least, some form of contentment.

“The meaning of life is to give life meaning, at least, that’s what seems to be the consensus.” You rip off that part of the letter, hang it on your wall by your bed.  The other letters you keep in your nightstand, content with the knowledge that there are souls out there like you

It’s hard work, creating meaning for yourself.

The red god takes to visiting you between each letter, says he misses you, the way your soul cries. He tells you that he wishes he could help you quiet it, quiet that raging, terrible storm that hurls you about.

You make him cookies - it’s the only way you know how to say thank you. It’s what your mother taught you, so it may not be right, but the god eats them nonetheless. He likes it when you eat with him, feeding you bites from his cookie, wiping chocolate off of your nose, making you laugh with stupid jokes and a mouth stuffed full of cookies.

Even if some of them are too crunchy, or others too soft, all of them imperfect.

Imperfection is the essence of humanity, he tells you, and it’s more fun eating each cookie with the thought that you’re devouring your imperfections, making yourself whole again, filling up the empty spaces in your soul.

——

Eventually, the crawl back to your feet, rise with the unsteadiness of a toddler. You fall frequently, cry often, but you’re able to get up and try again.

Some days you need to bury yourself in sadness, let yourself feel and feel and hurt. Other days are not so bad, but still tinged  with regret and fear and sadness.

The red god is by your side, gives you something to cling to when you waver.

He is always there.

He will be there when you meet your end.

The god is in no hurry.

You question why he wastes his time on you, hours spent reassuring you, talking to you, tucking you in your bed and leaving glasses of water on your nightstand before taking his leave.

Home is a feeling, not a place. Home is with you - that’s what he tells you. You take his breath away, even though he might not even need to breath because he’s the god of death. HIs thoughts muddle and he trips over his feet and can’t help himself from wanting to hold you.

You learn that even gods yearn for home.

He’s capable of feelings and emotions just like any other human. He may be wiser, and older, able to draw from experience and a deep well of wisdom. But he still feels, and feels deeply.

Just as he gives the earth around him such reverence, he extends that same  attitude when he deals with you.

“Everything I see reminds me of you. When I wake and the sun creeps over the mountains, hesitant, it reminds me of the way that you rise - haltingly, yet it happens nonetheless. The flowers in the field that so steadily grow, you’re like ground they take root in, soft and unstable yet still tenable with the potential for growth. I don’t know, I haven’t exactly held such closeness with a human-“

He trails off, but you think you understand.

Maybe you don’t. It’s hard to relate to a god.

——

A confession occurs, and you’re surprised to learn that the blood-red god of death is in love.

“What did my hands do before they held yours? What did my heart do without all of this love? I can’t hold enough of you, I carry such love for you in my heart.”

With a frail, hopeless human nonetheless.

You don’t know what to tell him, how to explain that you can barely take care of yourself right now, meet your own needs.

But the red god seems to know, seems to understand the way your breath hitches and your eyes widen. One more hug, squeezed tight to his chest while he promises nothing has to change.

Things do change, even if you wish them not to. The world doesn’t bow to your whims, nor the death-god’s.

Innocent touches, his hand on your shoulder, patting your head, offering to rub out the tension in your back after you’ve had a crushing day - they don’t feel so innocent anymore.

The constant survellience still seemed kind, and you knew it was with your best intentions in mind that the god hovered so close, invading every aspect of your life.

But a creeping tendril of unease took hold, and you worried.

Everywhere you turned, he would be there, ready to support you, walk you through anything you wished.

Again, you questioned his commitment. Why? Why you?

“I can’t explain how fond of you I’ve grown. How heat blossomed in my chest as we grew closer. There’s infinite things I wish to say to you, ways for me to express my-my love, but I’ll just let you live.”

He neither killed you nor let you live.

Was it frightening? Maybe. But you had nothing to really live for, lost, searching for your own meaning in a big big world, floundering in an endless sea of sadness and suffering. You weren’t afraid of anything the god could, or would, do to you.

Until you woke up, not knowing where you were, in pitch black.

Arms encircling your shoulders, a soft body beneath your own, holding you tightly, a hand caressing your cheek.

A sun rose, on a strange new land, on the blood-red god gazing at you.

“There seemed to be so much more time for you. But accidents happen, Drivers drink and hearts give out. I was expecting you to grow old, for us to live and love like that, see how you grew through life.”

He looked around this new world, and you vaguely remember what had come before.  A walk along the sidewalk, blaring horns, impact, blood.

“But this will be just as nice. You can stay here with me now. Life can’t cause you anymore pain.”

You don’t feel comforted by those words.  There’s no way for you to know whether this new world would be better than the one you left behind.

[4stars-uswnt]

You Take My Heart Away [Kelley O’Hara x Reader]

requested by anon: Kelley O’Hara x reader where reader gets into a fist fight but she’s like I won’t throw the first punch bc I’ll finish it and like she gets teased by the team but Kelley is mad at reader for it bc R could’ve gotten hurt but it was still cool

requested by anon: Can we get another Kelley O’Hara x reader doesn’t have to be anything specific just maybe along the lines of them both being crazy and maybe oblivious

A/N: i decided to combine these two prompts! hope y’all enjoy it. also bonus points to anybody who gets the title reference (there’s a lil connection to a reference within the story)

warnings: homophobic and sexist language, violence, and swearing

Conversation was flowing and music was playing in the background of the bar, as the USWNT finished up their first round of drinks and appetizers. The team had pushed together a couple of tables, where you all were now sitting, laughing at each other’s jokes.

The air was light, victory and celebration filling the atmosphere. Megan and Ashlyn had been the ones to suggest a night out after your win against Japan, not only to celebrate the 2-0 victory but also to celebrate Lindsey’s birthday that was in the next couple of days.

You were currently sitting next to your best friend, Kelley O’Hara, bridging the gap between the veterans and the youngsters.

“Anybody want another drink?” Alex asks, pushing her chair back, as she moves to get up.

A chorus of yeses ring out, the team’s orders ringing out.

“I’ll help you with that, Al.” You stand up from your seat, giving the other woman a warm smile.

Once the two of you had left for the bar, the rest of the team began interrogating Kelley, who let her eyes follow you as you moved through the crowd.

“Kel,” Ash calls out over the noise of the music. “When are you gonna admit to (Y/N) that you’re hopelessly in love with her?”

“What?” Kelley sputters, flustered.

Megan rolls her eyes at the defender. “It’s so obvious that you’ve had a crush on her for the past like six years, and a blind person can see that she likes you too.”

“I- I’m not in love with (Y/N).” Kelley’s face flushes, as she rubs the back of her neck nervously. “She’s my best friend.”

“Kelley,” Christen softly chimes in,, hoping to talk some sense in her friend she’s known since college. “You guys obviously have feelings for each other that go beyond friendship, and you’ve been dancing around them for years. We just want you two to be happy.”

Many of the women nod and voice their agreement.

“But what if it ruins our friendship and I lose her forever?” The freckled defender bites her lip nervously.

“That’s not gonna happen.” Christen gives her a knowing look. “Even if she didn’t reciprocate those feelings, she’s not gonna cut you out of her life.”

“And Kel,” Tobin adds on. “You never know until you ask her. And who knows? The risk of putting your heart out there may be worth it. But you’re just gonna live in the dark haunted by the unknown and what ifs unless you tell her how you feel.”

“I hate that you’re philosophical insights are usually right,” Kelley huffs.

Meanwhile, as the team holds their intervention for your best friend, you and Alex were at the bar ordering another round of drinks.

As you were waiting for the bartender, you and Alex were engaged in your own conversation, when you hear a boisterous voice interrupt you.

“Hey! It’s Alex Morgan!” A large man approaches the two of you, holding a half-full cup of beer in his hand, and you have a feeling he’s downed a couple pints already.

You sense Alex tense up next to you, as she gives the stranger a tight smile. “Hello.”

“Oh, and who’s this?” He turns to you, a leering grin on his face, making your insides turn. You reach for Alex’s hand in search of comfort but also as a protective gesture.

“Is she your girlfriend?” The man looks back at the star forward. “I hear your entire team is full of d*kes, but I didn’t think you were one. You’re way too hot to be a d*ke.”

Alex’s grip on your hand tightens, as anger radiates off of her. “I’m actually happily married.” She raises her left hand to show off her ring.

“Woah.” The stranger lets out a low whistle, his eyes slowly widening before he squinting to get a better look, as his movements impaired by the alcohol. “That is quite the rock. How’d you afford that with your pay? I’ve heard all about your team’s fight for equal pay and all that. I personally think it’s a load of crap. You guys aren’t even that good at soccer, and it’s so boring. The only thing that makes your games interesting is your smoking hot bodies.”

You scrunch your nose in disgust at this man’s blatant misogyny. “I’m surprised you know about our equal pay fight. I’d think it’d be too complicated for your thick skull,” you quip, throwing the insult right in his face.

“Ooooo feisty, are we?” He raises his eyebrows at you. “And where do you get off calling me dumb?”

“I’m just calling them as I see them,” you simply state, letting go of Alex’s hand, as you move to stand in front of her protectively. “Where do you get off disrespecting women and being a bigot?”

“(Y/N/N), it’s not worth it,” Alex whispers in your ear.

“I’d listen to your friend,” the man sneers and stands up straighter, slightly sobering up. “Because I’m not afraid to hit a girl, especially a mouthy one like you. Women like you deserve to be put in your place.”

“Go on then,” you challenge, probably a stupid decision on your part, but the adrenaline is rushing and you are at your wits end with this man in front of you. “I dare you.”

You thank all the gods in the universe that the stupid stranger was actually stupid enough to try and throw a punch with his blood-alcohol level because you can see his punch coming from a mile away.

Before his fist can make contact with your face, you grab his hand and twist his arm, leaning in closely to his face. “Is that all you got? My mom hits better than you.” You smirk.

“Let go of me, you bitch,” he growls, snatching his arm out of your grasp.

“Wait, I have one more thing,” you call out.

“What the hell are you talk-”

Before he can finish, you cut him off, rather your fist cuts him off. The man in front of you had been testing your patience and had used up all your grace, which, in your opinion, warranted a punch in the face.

You can’t help but wince at the sharp pain shooting through your hand upon the contact, but the cracking sound of his nose eases some of your discomfort.

By now, the rest of the team had become worried by your prolonged absence and then had noticed the commotion this stranger was stirring. Hearing the raised voices coming from your direction, many of the veterans, including Kelley, Christen, Tobin, Ash, Ali, and Megan, made their way over to where Alex was currently holding you back from unleashing your anger on this drunk man.

“What is going on here?” Becky asks, surveying the situation in front of her.

“This asshole was insulting Al and then had the audacity to continue being a sexist pig,” you spit out, directing your words at the man, who was still holding his bloody nose, while Alex was doing her best to keep you under wraps.

“I think it’s time for you to go,” Ashlyn states firmly.

As the goalie, along with Becky, Megan, and Ali, coax the stranger into leaving you alone, and hopefully leaving the club, Alex, Christen, Tobin, and Kelley try and calm you down.

“(Y/N/N),” Christen soothes, cupping your face. “I need you to calm down. Take a deep breath.” The curly-haired forward inhales and exhales, motioning for you to mimic her actions.

You take a deep breath, and upon exhaling, you feel the tension, along with the adrenaline, leave your body.

“Shit,” you sigh. “My hand.”

You lift your right hand, revealing your split knuckles on which bruises were starting to form.

“Come on, Sylvester.” Tobin claps your shoulder, letting out an amused chuckle. “Let’s get you back to the hotel, and on the way, you can tell us all about your heroics.”

You amusedly roll your eyes and lean into the other woman’s side.

As the team gathers their things, ready to call it a night after the turn of events, Megan approaches you, holding out a bag of ice.

“Here, (Y/N), the bartender gave me this for your hand.”

“Thanks, P.” You place the cool ice on your knuckles, hissing at the temperature shock.

On the way back to the hotel, many of your teammates were interrogating you about what had happened back at the bar. After telling the entire story, you received many hoots and hollers from the rest of the team.

“Damn (Y/N)!” Ash whistles. “Remind me never to get on your bad side.”

“Way to protect our honor,” Rose gushes, as many of the women nod along.

“Thank you, (Y/N), for defending me,” Alex says sincerely.

“Of course, Al. Anytime.” You give the forward a warm smile.

“Who knew (Y/N) could be such a badass?!” Emily exclaims with an impressed look on her face. “Kel, did you know that your best friend was a secret badass?”

While the rest of the girls had been teasing you about your heroic actions, your best friend had been oddly quiet.

“News to me.” Kelley answers shortly, her face hard and distant. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, wondering if the defender was mad at you. You thought she would’ve been proud of you for standing up for the team and putting a sexist douchebag in his place.

Before going back to entertaining your teammates’s jokes and questions, you make a mental note to talk to her once you get back to the hotel, silently thanking Vlatko for rooming the two of you together this camp.

You would never in a million years admit it, but you were harboring a huge crush for your best friend, had been for the past six years, ever since you’d joined the national team. Not only did you not want to ruin your friendship and end up losing Kelley, but you knew she would never return your feelings.

Over the past several years that you’d been friends with the defender, you’d seen Kelley go in and out of relationships, and comparing yourself to her other girlfriend’s, you had a feeling you weren’t her type.

You also had reservations due to the fact that Kelley was your teammate, and you didn’t want to change the team dynamic, especially if the two of you didn’t work out.

Thoughts of Kelley clouded your mind all the way back to the hotel, only further exacerbated by her deafening silence.

Upon arriving to the hotel lobby, before you all disperse to your rooms, Alex gives you another hug and thanks you again, and Becky, ever the mother of the group, gives you a warning.

“Make sure to ice on and off. 20 minutes. You know the drill, (Y/L/N). Kelley, make sure she takes care of that hand.”

“Don’t worry about me, Becks. I got it,” you reassure the veteran defender, giving her a mock salute.

Following Kelley, you cautiously enter the hotel room. You nervously watch the other women move around the room, as she silently goes about her usual nighttime routine. Taking the hint that she wasn’t going to talk to you anytime soon, you go about your own routine and get ready for bed.

After about twenty minutes later, after both of you had showered, you were finishing wrapping your hand and were about to get into bed, when you noticed Kelley discretely staring at your bandaged hand.

Unable to tolerate the silence anymore, you break the tension. “Okay, what is up with you?”

“Hm? What do you mean?”

“Kel,” you sigh, plopping down on the side of her bed. “You’ve been giving me the cold shoulder ever since what happened at the bar. Are you mad at me?”

“Nope. Not mad,” Kelley hums slightly passive aggressively, still not looking up from her book.

You roll your eyes, frustrated by your best friend’s childish behavior. “Kelley, I know when you’re lying, and I know that you’re mad at me right now, so would you please just look at me?!”

Sensing the exasperation and frustration in your voice, Kelley closes and sets down her book. “Fine, you’re right. I am mad at you.”

You thought you’d feel relieved, hearing her confirm your suspicions, but instead, the pressure in your chest increases.

“Why? What did I do?” You practically beg, scooting up the bed, so you’re closer to the other woman.

“As if you don’t know,” she scoffs.

Confused, you tilt your head. “I clearly don’t. Kel, please talk to me, tell me what I did.”

“You literally punched a dude in the face!”

“Yeah, but he deserved it, Kel! You heard the things he was saying,” you defend. “I couldn’t just let him get away with talking about our team like that. I thought you’d be proud of me for standing up to a sexist asshole like him.”

“I am proud, sort of. I mean that was completely badass and totally warranted, not that I necessarily expected that from you, and I’m glad you put him in his place,” Kelley babbles. “But that’s not the point, (Y/N/N). You were reckless tonight. You could’ve gotten hurt!”

Your face softens at her outburst. Taking a deep breath, Kelley confesses, “I love you, (Y/N). I’m in love with you, and I just can’t stand the idea of you getting hurt, especially by some drunk idiot who doesn’t know shit about football or respecting women.”

Your eyes widen and your heart practically stop, when you process the words that have come out of your best friend’s mouth.

“(Y/N), please say something,” Kelley begs.

“You’re in love with me?” You test the words on your mouth.

“Yeah,” she sighs contently, giving you a soft smile. “Have been for the past eight years.”

“Gosh, we really are idiots.” You let out a wet chuckle, shaking your head.

“What?”

“I’m in love with you, too, Kel,” you rasped, your voice laced with pure emotion. “I’ve loved you since my first camp.”

“Wow,” Kelley scoffs, an amused grin playing on her face. “Are we really that oblivious?”

“Apparently so.” You shrug. “But we’re here now.”

“Yeah, we are.” The freckled woman softens. “Can I kiss you?”

You nod eagerly, leaning in to meat the other woman’s lips. The kiss is nothing like you’d dreamed of; it’s better. It’s soft and tender, full of love and passion. You melt into each other, as your lips move together in harmony.

Not wanting things to get too heated, especially not before you’ve talked about what this meant for the future of your relationship, you pull away, resting your forehead against hers.

“Hi,” you whisper, smiling like a fool.

“Hey,” Kelley murmurs softly, returning your smile.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She takes your hand, kissing your wrapped knuckles. “But please don’t be getting into any more bar fights.”

“Hey! I would never start a fight, however I have no problem finishing them.” You smirk, boasting slightly triumphantly.

Kelley rolls her eyes playfully, but then looks into your eyes. “I mean it, (Y/N). I can’t stand the idea of you getting hurt. So no more fights alright?”

“I promise, Kel.” You give her a chaste kiss.

“Good.”

That night, you stay in Kelley’s bed, cuddling into her side. As you slowly drift into a peaceful sleep, you notice the woman next to you is already fast asleep.

You sigh contently, and you can’t help but feel extremely lucky that even after all these years, and everything that’s happened, life still led you to this woman and a love worth fighting for.

[thoughtfullyyoungduck]

Birthday

Summary: could you do a hs losers x reader where the readers new to town and hates her bday bc each year her past friends and family had always forgotten or did nothing so when richie finds out her bdays coming up he tells the losers and they all plan a special surprise party and richie saves up and gets her something super special and the losers r all like wow he’s never gotten anyone anything like this b4 so she finds out that he likes her or something so it’s like the best bday she’s ever had

Richie bikes swiftly passed you, faster than he usually does, which can only mean he’s trying to surpass you. You barely refrain from flipping him the bird in public, as you too throw your weight into peddling. It’s no use, Richie is more athletic than you by a long shot, and he’s been practicing with Eddie for track. You’ll never be able to catch up with him with no viable effort.

‘You asshole,’ you yell out to him, noticing an elder woman pledging through her yard too late to stop your exclamation. She regards the both of you with malcontent, stabbing her hark too brutally in the soil of her allotment for it to be a coincidence.

‘Not my fault your short legs can’t reach the peddles.’

You growl, lifting up from your saddle to race faster, but Richie sees you do it and does nothing but laugh.

Any other time you might give him hell for it, but today, you are in no mood to indulge in Richie’s escapades.

It’s your birthday, and while for most that equalizes a fun day stacked with presents and cake, to you it stands for a day full of misery.

Your birthday is cursed. And no, that is not you being dramatic. At your ninth birthday, your cake got slammed into floor, therefor ruing the gift your parents had been working on for weeks, and which was their only present.

At age ten, you fell off your brand new bike into a ravine and had to go to the hospital to get eleven stitches. On your fourteenth birthday, you and your parents got into such a huge fight they send you up to your room and forbad you from sneaking down at any point in the day.

There are more examples to back up your claim for the terrible birthdays, but you have tried to desperately block them all out, so you won’t rehash them.

That’s why your so peeved that Richie is forcing you to the quarry.

‘If you could tell me where I’m supposed to be going to bet u could find a short cut and be there faster than you.’

‘Nice try Dora, I’m not telling you anything. It’s a surprise.’

‘Alright, I get two attempts. If I can’t guess where we’re going, I’ll do your homework for a week.’

‘And if you do guess it?’

‘Then you owe me a favor and no matter for what reason I cash it in, you don’t get to complain.’

‘Fine, bring it miss know it all.’ Richie slows down to slide next to you, the wind picking up as the two of you descend down the mountain. His smile is mischievous and cheeky, probably too confident to think you’ll be able to reckon the spot he has in mind.

If only he knew that you had limited the possibilities to two places, the exact amount of guess you were granted.

‘Hm, are we going to the arcade?’ Your first theory is. Richie doesn’t have anything on him right now, except pennies that have been rinkeling inside his pockets the entire bike ride, the only thing he needs to go to the arcade.

Richie smirks, and shakes his head. ‘Try one my dear, may I say that the odds aren’t in your favor right now?’

His impressive ego in the way he taunts you with the right answer fuels your desire to be right. ‘Are we going to the Barrens?’ You sing, smiling wide as Richie’s shrinks.

‘Eh, no?’ He says, but he sounds petulant. ‘Fuck this shit, what gave it away?’

‘A girl never reveals her secrets’, you say covertly, forgetting momentarily about the agitating day. You suspect that might have been Richie’s intention.

It’s not like the Barrens is such a stretch in the first place, the losers and you have made that place your own, but you do hypothesize that he may have planned something special for you.

Your theory turns out to be true, as you can spot a long table at the end of the dirt path you and Richie are currently riding on to get to the clubhouse. The table is stacked with a variety of candies, your favorite, drinks that are sweet enough to rot your teeth, something Richie should be more aware off - having a dad who is a dentist-, and a giant cake with eight candles on. Each one representing a loser.

You say nothing as you approach, in a sneaky way torturing Richie a bit more before revealing that you’re at the verge of tears of this nice gesture. Richie slows down his speed by dragging his shoes along the dirt, glances darting nervously towards your face.

‘I know you said no parties, but how else was I supposed to show off my rocking dance moves?’

‘Do you mean the moves you make that look like you’re dying?’ Stan chides, him and the rest of the losers rolling up behind you two. They’re all walking next to their bikes, and Bill’s hands are smudges with cake residue he somehow missed while cleaning up. They didn’t want to be here before you and ruin the ‘surprise’, but it’s clear everyone has worked hard to organize this for you.

‘Fuck you Stan the man, the color green doesn’t fit you.’

‘Happy’, Bev grounds out, leveling Richie with one look, the way only Bev can, and then address you. ‘Birthday.’ She hugs you despite you still holding your bike, and you let it clatter to the ground with a loud bang.

‘Thanks Bev.’

‘Happy Birthday’, the other losers also call out, because there’s just too many of them for each to wait their turn.

‘We hope you don’t mind we don’t have any presents, we spend basically all of it getting ingredients for the cake, which we had to redo- twice.’

They don’t offer any other explanation about why the cake had to be remade two times, but by Eddie’s scowl you can fill in the blanks.

‘No, honestly, this is already too much.’ It is too much, but their efforts are so kind and heartwarming that you have to bit back a happy squall. No one has ever bothered to organize anything for your birthday, whether it be purchasing a two dollar present or even ordering a cake, but these people that you had met less then a year ago were willing to scramble together all the money they could, just so they could turn your day special. Thank god for moving to Derry.

For the first time in years, your birthday has brought smiles and laughter, and no tears and weeping moods.

‘Nonsense my dearest young lady, this is but a blip on our radar, a speck of dust on the tv, nothing compared too-‘

‘Can we please cut the cake now? Before something else goes wrong with it?’ Eddie glowers, refuting to wait for an affirmative.

‘Don’t forget the candles,’ Ben says as he follows Eddie to the table. You’re about to join them, when a hand on your wrists stops you.

‘Hey, Y/N? You really don’t mind this right? I know you said you didn’t want anything but I know how nice it is be caught off guard with something like this.’ Richie rubs the back of his head as if that makes him see any less anxious. It’s incredible how smart someone can be while simultaneously also being so dense.

‘Richie’, you say as you smile, unable to hide it any longer. ‘It’s amazing, thank you so much. If there is any way I can repay you I’ll do that. I’m really happy with this.’

‘That’s good, not that I was worried about it, who isn’t a fan of everything I do?’

Rolling your eyes only spurs Richie on, but it’s become an automatic response now, you can’t help but do it.

‘Oh, I almost forgot. I did get you another gift. Two actually, if you count my huge dong as one.’

‘Gross Richie, why do you always have to add something sexual to everything?’

‘It’s my game babe, love it or leave it. Anyway, here is the gift if you want it. If you don’t that’s fine too.’

‘Don’t get all shy on me now Rich’, you tease as your bump your arm into his while grabbing the package. ‘I’ve just gotten used to your antics.’

The package isn’t heavy, but it also isn’t light. It’s wrapped in enough layer that you can’t feel what’s inside of it just by holding it, but that was probably Richie’s intention. That or he is simply horrible at wrapping up.

While you carefully peel off each layer, you begin to speculate on what it could be. It could be a gag gift, but Richie looked sincere, and his eyes behind his glasses are magnified in true anticipation, a gag gift wouldn’t illicit that response.

As soon as the final layer is detached, you gasp, armored by the actual gift. It’s a blue bracelet, covered in butterfly pattering. You once mentioned having a similar one as a kid that you loved but lost one day while playing outside and had been sad about for weeks.

You can’t believe Richie had kept it in his mind, and had gone out to look for it.

‘Richie… I don’t even know what to say right now.’ You exclaim, squeezing the bracelet in your hand tightly, a blush covering your face. Richie’s mimics yours. ‘Thank you’, you say while reaching out to him and kissing him on the cheek. Richie face burns a brighter red.

‘Yeah… glad to be of service.’ His mind is ball parks away, and he is left dazed.

‘Come on Y/N, it’s time for you to blow out the candles.’

You go easily, letting your hand linger around Richie’s, deciding mentally that you’ll do it tonight before you go home. Your birthday has already been better than anything you could have imagined, and maybe it has one more miracle left to give. If Richie says yes to your question about going on a date, then this will truly have been the best birthday you have every had. By the love struck expression Richie is walking around with, you have an inkling as to what his response might be.

You blow out your candles, but you don’t need to make a wish. You already have everything you could possibly want.

----

‘Off course that asshole buys her a gift, but never returns the money I loaned him so long ago. I’m not a fucking bank.’

‘I think it’s cute.’

‘No, Eddie is right, I’m also waiting on my refund.’

‘It’s adorable he bought her something, he really can’t hide his crush anymore.’

[crimeronan]

Can you explain the appeal of Julian Blackthorn? This is a genuine question because I read the books and came away utterly bored by him and unconvinced of his moral greyness as opposed to like, Adam Parrish’s. He seemed so one dimensional to me but I want to know if I’m Wrong TM considering I tend to be very very biased toward my favourite characters and bored by the rest, and my favourites were Mark and Kieran. So maybe I just didn’t pay him enough attention??

it’s been a while since i wrote any earnest tsc meta but cringe culture is dead and the chance to infodump about my julian thoughts has me vibrating where i’m sitting so.  yes okay.

technical stuff

(aka: things pertaining to How The Story Is Constructed)

cassandra clare’s characterization has become much stronger just in general since she first began writing the series like twenty years ago

perhaps most importantly: the more recent stuff i’ve read from her has involved characters who actually grow, change, and learn from their past mistakes 

rather than repeating the same stupid decisions over and over again

and over and over and over some more

seriously take a shot every time someone in tmi miscommunicates or self-destructs in ways They Have Learned Not To Do for no real reason. u will die of alcohol poisoning

in tda this shines ESPECIALLY with the evolution of mark, kieran, and cristina’s relationship, but that’s a separate post

clare’s trademark is also the angsty traumatized jerkass love interest with a secret heart of gold

the woman is almost singlehandedly responsible for draco in leather pants and the proliferation of this kind of character type in fandom and teen lit. this isn’t a criticism it’s me marveling at how if you commit hard enough to a single trope you truly can change the world.  follow your dreams

sad jackass with a heart of gold isn’t an Inherently Problematic Character Type

but poorly done it can lead to relationship dynamics in which one partner is constantly being hurt by and then forgiving the other despite them making no real effort to change, because they are narratively absolved due to being sad

(there’s a lot of this with earlier jace content.  in some ways i think will was later created specifically to be a same-archetype protagonist who actually does get called on his shit and grow. that’s also another post)

also if all of your sexy male love interests are tortured jackasses with a heart of gold then people start calling you a one-trick pony

enter julian blackthorn!

from the very start everything about him is designed to be the INVERSE of the heart of gold jackass.  which immediately makes him interesting just from a meta perspective

(mark and kieran are also both alternate angles on this time-honored archetype.  mark gets the heart of gold and kieran gets the jackass and then they’re both much more deeply messy than that.  yet another post)

julian is kind, self-sacrificing, empathetic, artistic, emotionally supportive, responsible, and favored by old grannies everywhere

so a completely nonthreatening milquetoast guy, right

immediately forgettable if you’re only here for the dramatic conflicts and shithead antics of clare’s other protags

except that he is A Mess

and that he has structured his priorities very carefully, and they are as selfless as you expect from The Hero (TM) but they are also Not Heroic (TM) and they do not align with the moral framework The Hero (TM) is supposed to use

moral ambiguity in characters always exists in relation to their narratives imo. you mention adam parrish - trc’s narrative already mucks around in different ethical shades of gray, and adam falls on the canon scale about where julian does on his canon scale.  both more willing than the average pov character to do the ruthless thing or make the fucked-up choice if the ends justify the means; both with an intensely strong sense of internal priorities that they adhere to at all costs, both so unbelievably fucking down for murder; etc

i do think there are ways julian’s choices could have been pushed even further, but considering the number of readers who hate his guts already, i can see why clare opted not to go for the most controversial possible conflicts

so we’re flipping the narrative

instead of seeing this angsty bad boy and peeling back the layers of his trauma to find his heart of gold, we’re seeing the put-together selfless family man and peeling back the layers of his Responsibility Mask to expose the rotting husk underneath

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

THAT IS FUN AS FUCK

then when julian DOES lash out in hurtful, uncontrolled ways, he has significantly more narrative justification for it than most of clare’s protagonists (will elaborate in characterization thoughts)

julian is also interesting as fuck because of how his struggles allow for a more in-depth look at the failings of shadowhunter society, something that’s also sorely lacking in clare’s earlier work

his apparent amorality is simply the result of him making pragmatic and impossible choices because he has been faced with fucked-up ethical dilemmas since age 12 Because Society Has Failed Him

which opens the door for narrative exploration of how and why he’s been failed so badly & what needs to change

i also love that he has such a coldly calculated way of analyzing situations and allowing harm to occur when need be, bc a lot of clare’s early protagonists have such a bad case of Rush In And Get Myself Killed Because I’ve Got Feelings About Impulsive Heroism syndrome that i wanna push them in front of a truck

probably there’s other meta narrative stuff i could say but i’m stopping myself and moving on to character analysis

characterization stuff

(aka: reasons why i’m also attached to him in a vacuum)

i don’t read him as one-dimensional at all tbh

u may feel the narrative pushes “ruthless julian blackthorn” too much without delivering enough actual ruthless julian But i don’t think that’s the same as having only one dimension

from the get-go, the big question centered on julian is always “how far are you willing to go?” and the narrative pushes the stakes slowly higher and higher to continuously test julian’s “the price is always justified” mindset

he has a far more layered and realistic response to trauma than clare’s early protagonists - trauma affects every single aspect of his personality and how he conducts himself, and the effects vary depending on the circumstances

his conviction that he has to be the perfect parent to his siblings because they will fall apart if they see him show weakness??  rooted in how he feels like he’s fallen apart since losing the stable adult support he once relied upon

his willingness to hurt semi-innocent people, commit coldblooded murder, manipulate people using political leverage, allow harm to befall any stranger if it protects his family??  rooted in how he has already had to ask himself how much he’s willing to sacrifice, and how his family is his only source of stability when the world has never done Shit for him

his conviction that he has a darker heart than anyone else because he killed his possessed father, even though intellectually he knows he was saving his brother’s life??  rooted in having no means of processing this trauma and being unable to voice his feelings for fear of backlash from a deeply non-understanding society

the way he represses every single negative emotion he ever has, to the point where emma - his actual literal magic soulmate who can feel his emotions - is startled to find him hurting or angry??  once again all about how he has to be the perfect father or he’s failed completely

the way his anger is so totally disproportionate to different situations and the way his negative emotions can only come out in completely uncontrolled breaks??  all that repression baybey.  this kid has not processed a single bad feeling in five years.  every single real grievance and petty annoyance has been festering indefinitely inside him like a slowly spreading infection

julian’s arc involves him needing to get thru being his worst self to actually start to heal

as in, he has to actually learn to acknowledge his feelings, take care of himself, lean on his family, and let other people take some responsibility

he also has to learn that in his quest to be the perfect emotionally controlled authority figure, he has not actually learned how to control or deal with his emotions. like. At Fucking All. good god

the narrative setup is also about asking “how far are you willing to go?” until the answer is finally “not this far.  not this far”

and once he reaches that point, he has to reevaluate everything about how he weighs his priorities and morals and plans, etc

(i also like that emma has a perpendicular arc in which she’s always the one tempering julian and telling him “no we can’t go that far” until she’s willing to do something horrific that he absolutely won’t and HE has to stop HER. very sexy)

it’s also just really nice to have a character who’s learned to relate so well to literally every single member of his family while still having a very detached ruthless interior consciousness. i have similar feelings about how adam teaches himself to love people, but with julian it’s spelled out more explicitly in canon & it’s a more central character theme

i’m sure i’m also forgetting stuff here but this post is long enough so i’m gonna say good enough

and like i said in the tags on my other post, there are things i’d personally write differently if it were my story - plot points i’d shift, character contrasts i’d up, themes i’d explore differently, pacing i’d adjust, etc.  i have plenty of ways i could be nitpicky and editorial about the effectiveness of julian’s arc.  but i also don’t feel like writing them out at the moment & none of my critiques on effectiveness have an impact on the core appeal of his character 2 me.  he’s so fucking good

[apenapaperandadoofus]

"least to most bottom of the RFA" you say 👀

CONSIDER THIS A REQUEST MY FRIEND

Hehehehehe THANK YOU

I actually came up with this bc I had a stress dream that I was writing request and I was writing smth like this and since then I have not thought of anything else ANSNSNSND

Least to most bottom MM characters:

12. Rika

This bitch will not. Back. Down.

She is a full on top, fuck you

Nah but really you will not make this woman bend down to your will, it has to be the other way. She has to feel the power! The control!

(and of course if we want to get into more of the psychological stuff it's also bc of that bitch ass pastor that did that to her as a child, and to him I wish him a very fuck you and fuck off, BUT ANYWAY)

This woman will not back down. If you try and make her a bottom she will act like she's backing down until she turns the tables and you're the one that's pinned against the bed or wall. It's a fight you cannot win 🙂

11. Unknown

No.

No matter how much you want to pin that little fucker down, he will not. Let. You.

He doesn't want to feel vulnerable.

Still, that doesn't mean he won't do it every once in a full moon or smth where hee will maaaaybe let you be the dominant one. Of course he will still be ordering you around, so who's really the one in control?

10. Jumin

Jumin is also a power top, although every once in a while he'd change the pace of things for a bit.

He wouldn't go super far as too havig to full on freaking beg, but he'd come pretty close to that point if you hold him down and start straddling him. He wouldn't mind getting tied up too y'know? Just not all the way. Maybe once in a while you can tie his arms behind him and straddle him, and he will literally go crazy because he just can't touch you, and you just feel. So. Good.

9. Vanderwood

He's a bottom brat whenever he switches andbdbfnfn

Listen, once in a while you'll both change pace, and he'll be all like "pft, your think you can make me kneel down? No way in hell." To be a few minutes later begging for you to let him come and to please, please just fuck him!

8. Suit

But Amanda, what about Unknown and how he wasn't a bottom? Isn't Suit basically Unknown but in his early stage?

And to that I say yes but I love brat bottom boys so you will have to deal with it ajdhdhdb

Listen to me.

TOPPING THIS MAN? YES PLEASE???

Also since he does still have a bit of Ray in him, y'know he likes being pinned down.

He will be an absolute bastard though. He will curse and yell the whole time, but then once you finally get him?

Oh he will beg for you non stop like Lin Manuel Miranda said in his Hamilton musical songs "Non-Stop"

He L O V E S being tied down. Not Lin btw I mean Suit lol.

Not with blindfolds tho, that would be far too much. But to be served his own medicine for once? Honestly he's kinda into it. He loves the dominant glint in your eye, how commanding you are, basically how you're not taking ANY of his BS.

It is my personal hc since I'm a horny bitch, that suit would actually be into being a bottom, but he's just a bit shy about it, and yes, he can be a top too which is why he's not all the way down, but you know being a bottom is a guilty pleasure for this boy.

He likes that shit.

7. Zen

He's also mostly a switch, except he isn't much of a brat. He's more of a chill bottom. You tell him you want to be on top today? Sure thing baby let me just get the blindfold.

He's totally up for it, and he loves seeing you taking control and being confident. That's what he likes the most. Of course, he'd much rather be the one gripping your wrists on top of you and banging ya like there's no tomorrow.

6. Jaehee

YES

This woman hasn't really dated anyone or anything except her work, so she's definetly a bit inexperienced. That's why she'll look to you to take the lead!

Jaehee should be spoiled alright, so please take care of this woman with your life and make her have the time of her life

5. GE! Saeran

This boy is also a sort of power bottlom. Sometimes he will take the lead and oh god, is he great at that, but other times? When he's a bottom, he's a BOTTOM

He will gasp and moan at every little touch, he absolutely adores getting praised, and he loves it when you watch him with that glint of lust in your eyes.

Boy when he's a bottom he's just: chefs kiss 💋👌👌

4. Saeyoung

He's also an amazing top, but when he switches and becomes a bottom he's also AMAZING. He's at the top of the bottoms (hahahaha funny)

He also likes being pinned down and given orders, to have to b e g.

He also likes praise a lot like his brother pft.

And he's also a lot into being tied up, blindfolds, all that. No matter if it's you or him. The only thing he's a bit iffy about is basically hitting him and for very obvious reasons, but appart from that he's up for anything wink wink.

3. Ray

Do I have to even explain? Like??? Do I really???

His middle name is BOTTOM.

When you look him up in the dictionary it says in bold letters and in the whole page BOTTOM.

His name means BOTTOM.

He's too shy to start anything up by himself, he needs you to take the lead so he knows he's not doing anything wrong. This boy will bend to your will so fucking easily, he's a fucking spaghetti, you can grab him and twist him around your finger akfkfnfn

Just praise him and he'll be so happy. Just imagine when -milking him dry- EHEM he'd just beg and his eyes would be all teary and OH LORD YES BOTTOM RAY ALL THE WAY WHOOP.

2. Yoosung

It is literally cannon he's a masochist. Literally. This boy loves it. He's like s puppy. He will look at you with adoration the whole time, and will follow all of your orders. He'd happily go down on all fours for you, he'd literally do ANYTHING

Also I have said this so many times and I will say it again,

P e g h i m

This man is PERFECT FOR IT, DON'T WASTE THE OPPORTUNITY AND TEASE THE FUCK OUT OF THIS MAN, MAKE 👏 HIM 👏 BEG👏

1. V

Dude. This man is a bottom and nothing else, NOTHING ELSE

PEG HIM TOO! (Pfttttttt basically the last two of the list are just me going PEG HIM over and over again lmao.)

You cannot tell me this man is a top. You simply can't.

He is a bottom boy. Just don't blindfold him bc ✨trauma✨

Appart from that tie him up, edge him do whatever else you want. This man will look at you with tears in the corner of his eyes, barely able to speak. "M-MC... please....I-I just c-can't anymore...." He'd whisper.

God I know he isn't my favorite but I would dffinetly date him just for this holy fuck.

God am I horny and touch starved I need jesus

Anyway now go and read the bible and bathe in holy water, and I'll save you all a spot next to me in hell :D

[roublardise]

my "Crowley isn't attracted to women" take

for @spnprideweek - day 2 - mlm

cw: dicussion of homophobia & transphobia all in all I wanted to highlight how canon gay Crowley is bc I love him 💕 thank u spn for Crowley even tho he deserved better

in the last weeks I've realized there's a huuge consensus in the fandom for pansexual Crowley. if you're pan or not and wanna hc Crowley as pan, power to you! but what's bothering me is the non-discussion of it all. the way it seems obvious for everyone. whereas, to me, Crowley has been canonically gay all this time.....

disclaimer: I'm aware Mark Sheppard alledgely said he saw Crowley as pansexual, however I can't even take these words for canon without context. Especially not when a year later he'd say Crowley's sexuality didn't matter. The way Mark Sheppard talks about characters' sexuality is more a "why are people making a big deal let them be" than "the character doesn't care." Moreover, actors pov can't be taken as canon imo. Jensen Ackles thought Dean straight for so long when Dean's been bi all this time as well. Sometimes actors are biased by their own experiences & stereotypes!

disclaimer #2: on god I don't wanna start discourse lmao. I just wanna share my silly thoughts about a tv show & question the way Crowley's sexuality is written in this silly homophobic tv show. don't @ me about what's making you think Crowley is indisputably pansexual bc I assure you I already know your points

That being said, here's why I think Crowley is a bear, a gay man, a trans gay man actually, a homosexual, who isn't attracted to women & some food for thoughts about why the unquestioned consensus towards pan Crowley could have roots in both homophobia & panphobia.

I don't think we can think of Crowley as your usual demon. We know too much about Crowley's life as a human, and the numerous ways in which he acts un-demony, almost humanly after. Considering him simply like a demon with no concept of gender preference who would be pan “by default” wouldn’t be right with his character. But we also can't question his sexuality in the exact same way we would a human's.

It also can't be thought in the same way as angels': as once-humans demons do have a concept of gender. Crowley especially cares a lot about his gender presentation and the way he's addressed. Not only does he literally sell his soul for a bigger d*ck as a human ; as a demon he uses the same vessel where other demons are shown to move once they had to leave one ; and for the few hours Crowley's possessing a woman, he clearly states he should still be referred to as king.

This will all be used for homophobic & transphobic jokes in the show, but I'll get back to that later on. Gender does matter to Crowley's identity, and I think it could be extended to his sexuality.

I've seen numerous descriptions of it all saying Crowley's sexuality was "ambiguous" and I guess it is, as he never explicitly used any label. However "ambiguous" doesn't mean bi or pan. It doesn't mean anything besides the fact we can't draw a clear-cut conclusion of his sexuality.

Imo we can actually draw a clear-cut conclusion of Crowley's sexuality but yeh, I'm getting there.

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

Let's take a look at canon events around Crowley & sexuality!

His character introduction is him enjoying making a homophobe man kiss him for a deal

It is rumoured that he was a demon's lover (Lilith's)

He heavily flirts with Bobby

He french kisses Bobby for a deal and takes a pic

He never kisses a woman on screen (tell me if I forgot anyone!)

He flirts with every single man he sees, and even more strongly when it's making the other uncomfortable

The other parent of Crowley's son is never mentioned nor even brought up

He has two orgies that we know of

He has sex with a demon who's possessing a woman (Lola) when he was addicted to human blood

He dates, has sex with, and asks Dean to rule Hell with him. He's in love with Dean

On late spn he drinks fruity drinks

He flirts with and implies he had sex with an angel (Naomi)

He flirts with Death (Billie)

He's into BDSM

I'm not gonna go into details with all the sexual stuff he says bc there's a lot.... But it's always about gay sex. (once again, if I'm forgetting smth pls tell me nicely)

Now, with all that I'd like to question specifically the elements people use to say Crowley is canonically attracted to women.

He has two orgies that we know of

There’s the one Crowley has while he’s himself possessing a woman ; iirc it’s a foursome with two other men and one woman. Crowley still counts as a King, as the show makes sure we know, admitedly this dialogue implies we should still think of him as a not-very-manly-man.

Honestly, if one is convinced Crowley is attracted to women based on this scene.. okay. Personally I don’t see it because the orgy is unplanned, it’s an opportunity Crowley takes. Is he even attracted to the two other men?? Who knows. We don’t even know if Crowley even touches the other woman, there’re so many ways to have group sex. Even if he did, having sex with one woman doesn’t make it impossible for him to be homosexual.

The second orgy is with Dean. Crowley describes it then: “We've done extraordinary things to triplets.” It’s interesting how before I went to check, I thought it was clear the triplets were women. But not at all! I’ve been tricked by heteronormativity myself. So this is up to interpretation. Even though the way the show doesn’t make sure we know the triplets were women is pretty telling (as I’ll talk about later).

It is rumoured that he was Lilith's lover

Well, this is a rumour. In this relationship Crowley would know Lilith as a demon possessing a woman, and Lilith would know Crowley as a demon possessing a man as well. Who's even to say they met in their vessels to sleep together. That's the kind of cases in which the ambiguity of Crowley human/demon situation makes it impossible to draw any kind of conclusion towards Crowley's attraction to women. Also if anything Lilith is clearly a lesbian lmao.

He has sex with Lola when he was addicted to human blood

Same thing here, the relationship is one of demon/demon. Though we do now they do meet in their vessels to sleep together. Besides that, the sex happens while Crowley is at a low point. She's the one bringing him human blood, which makes the sex more of a transaction than anything. It does fit a very grey area of consent which would be fair to question.

We can't know for sure whether the demon possessing the woman was a woman as well, but let's say she was: 1/ Crowley having sex once or twice with a woman doesn't prevent him from being homosexual. 2/ What is he seeing if not a demon's true form? 3/ Wasn't he in a self-destructive mental state?

It's a stretch, imo, to assume Crowley was attracted to her.

He flirts with and had sex with Naomi / flirts with Billie

This one is so ridiculous to me bc Naomi is an angel and as a demon, Crowley sees her true form. We don't even know who was her vessel when they had sex.

The flirt thing is interesting however, bc iirc Naomi and Billie are the only "women" we see Crowley actually flirt with. During the orgies or the demon sex there's no flirt involved. It's interesting bc, as Cas would say: "Naomi's vessel is a woman. Naomi is an angel."

Same case for Billie who's a reaper then Death. Spn is pretty unclear about how the whole thing works but we know reapers are kind of angels. In any case, I won't go as far as saying Billie has any connection to gender.

Moreover, the way Crowley flirts with them is pretty light next to everything else Crowley says to men. It's pretty personal, I'm aware, but I do relate a lot with the way Crowley flirts with them VS how I flirt with men just because (and I'm a lesbian).

Anyway! Both Naomi and Billie are supernatural creatures, which brings the count of women Crowley flirts with to... zero.

-> What I take from all that is that Crowley is attracted to men for sure ; to angels and demons ; and doesn't care about the genitalia involved in the sex he has. We have nothing about the kind of relationships he had as a human. His gender presentation matters a lot to him. The only long-term commitment he has is with Dean. I wouldn't even say he had a committed relationship with Gavin's other parent bc we don't know anything about them.

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

But what's my deal with homosexual Crowley? One can wonder, if Crowley doesn't care about bodies, doesn't that mean he can still be written as pan?

No! First because sexual attraction isn't about genitalia (even if transphobes would argue the contrary but they're transphobic so...). And second, well....

I would refer to this point as "how do I know Crowley isn't attracted to women? bc Dean is"

I'm convinced that if the show wanted to write Crowley as anything other than a gay man, it would have been way more obvious.

This is a show who wrote Dean catcalling a faceless woman on the street, for no other reason than to remind the viewers Dean was attracted to women & to balance it with the following homoerotic scene.

One could say spn doesn't have lots of women characters to begin with, but that's my point exactly: when spn wants to show attraction towards women, they do find women for people to be attracted to. Hell, they even give Gavin some girlfriend but never ever bring up the topic of Gavin's other parent. Even though an entire episode is dedicated to learning about Crowley's past.

What's important to understand Crowley's sexuality isn't the people he slept with ; it's the people he doesn't show interest in.

The absence of something is the presence of the thing, blablabla. It's a way to look at homosexuality that heteronormativity makes hard to see because, unconciously, we don't tend to question attraction towards the expected gender. One would ask for a 10 pages essay on why a character is gay, but one would need only a 2 sec kiss to assure a character's heterosexuality or attraction towards the expected gender.

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

In Crowley's case, his attraction to men is a huge part of his character right from the beginning (thanks god, at least no one's questioning that). Spn as a show that hears what the fans are saying and twists writing accordingly, is perfectly aware of that. Yet rather than pushing women at him along the course of the show to remind everyone how Not Gay Crowley is - the opposite happens.

Yeh, Lola, Naomi, Billie, they all happen in the later seasons. But even then, the show somehow can't write Crowley as attracted to a human woman.

What happens then is: not only does Crowley fall for Dean ; he engages in some BDSM play with Lucifer : and he switches from drinking only the finest Scotch to fruity cocktails.

The BDSM thing as well as the drink thing are choices rooted in stereotypes, that's how spn is! But it does canonize Crowley's homosexuality. They're depriving him of his "masculinity" as the show goes on, because they purposely write him as homosexual. I don't think spn would have ever written a bi or pan character that way.

We learned a few days ago that Crowley died in a gutter. He died in a gutter for a bigger d*ck. I'm just gonna refer to Oscar Wilde & Mika on this : "some of us in the gutter are looking up at the stars."

The "referred to as king" scene isn't about Crowley being a demon and so not caring about gender - it's the opposite. Other demons are the ones poiting out Crowley's vessel. This is a transphobic joke. It's the demon edition of the "gay boy in a dress" transmisogynistic trope.

Viewers aren't supposed to be on Crowley's side ; we're supposed to be giggling with the other demons while Crowley is being emasculated. Crowley gets a woman vessel because he's a not-very-manly-man, because he's a trans man, because he's homosexual.

And I know that bc Dean is written as bi, and all they're doing is reaffirming the way he does like women while being extra subtle with his love for men.

Meanwhile Crowley is losing influence and power, loses his authority as he loses his throne in Hell, gets humiliated by Lucifer, until all his character revolves around is his love for Dean. The way Crowley is then protrayed as some lovesick ex who can't move on is, imo, a straight man fantasy. Crowley's love is both used as predatory and as a tool to validate Dean's Peak Masculinity.

Spn has been burying their gays all along, and Crowley was right there being punished for not only being in love with Dean but for not being attracted to women. For never being able to be a "normal" guy. For never being able to be seen as a "normal" guy. For checking every homophobic stereotypes in the books. Crowley as a human dies because he's a trans man. Crowley as a demon dies because he's homosexual.

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

That's what leads me to be uncomfortable with the way the fandom seems to have a consensus towards pansexual Crowley. (Once again: idc about people's personal hc of Crowley as pan, I just want to think critically about the way no one thinks twice about it & accepts it as canon so easily. Hell, just bc I dared to ask what started the pan Crowley confirmation I got accused of erasing his pansexuality. All I did was ask a question.)

To me, it feels like erasing everything his character went through because he was gay. And it seems to be taken from a reasoning which is going to assume Crowley is attracted to women.

I mean: the reasoning would go "oh, Crowley clearly has a non-straight sexuality -> he's attracted to men -> he's pan" His attraction to women being accepted by default, without needing any backup. And when I look at the canon I see nothing implying he'd be attracted to women. Taking Crowley's attraction to women for granted is following an heteronormative thinking.

Being into people isn't all about who one sleeps with. It's about love. And when we look at what spn shows about Crowley's close relationships, the only meaningful one he got is with Dean. When Rowena wants payback for Crowley making her kill Oskar, she goes for his son.

And it's SO interesting to me because if angels can't be in love because they don't have a soul - can demons? as they're beings with a destroyed soul? And if so, how powerful of Crowley to still fall in love with Dean Winchester.... the power of gay love :) (Crowley 🤝 Cas)

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

To conclude all this with some more stuff to think about if, like me, you love questioning everything:

While it's not wrong per se to hc Crowley as pan, it can be worth questioning what's making us so sure we collectively just vibe with it? To me there's a few things: - As I was saying: heteronormative bias - Crowley being a non-fully-human character - Crowley being masculine (despite the show's attempts to erase that) - Crowley being into BDSM - Crowley flirting and making sexual remarks in every context

These, unconsciously, gives a vibe of a character who's "outside" of the gender norm, not making big deal of their sexuality, not even questioning it. This creates this idea of "ambiguity" around Crowley's sexuality. The way Crowley particularly seems to be really chill about sex, is a demon (so what does he know about gender?), and heavily flirty, ... is what most people will link to pansexuality. That doesn't mean thinking of Crowley as pan is being problematic™ ; this means in western medias that's what fills the "pansexual character" imagery (like basically: the Jack Harkness type).

However, when we look at it like that, none of these elements are defining of pansexuality. None of them are excluding him from homosexuality. If not stereotypes.

That's where it gets personal ; but it does make me feel like the huge consensus towards a pansexual Crowley (when there is no clear-cut evidence of it) is erasing the complexity of homosexual experiences. As I said at the begining: I'm happy if pansexual people can relate to Crowley ; everone's free to headcanon. But saying Crowley is canonically pansexual is a stretch - and a take rooted in homophobic stereotypes.

Imo Crowley may have been created with all these traits pushing towards a pan reading of his character. However, as the show went, he was clearly written as a homosexual man. The changes in his portrayal took a turn to be specifically homophobic. He gets imagery that only strictly homosexual characters got (such as drinking fruity cocktails like Aaron. Meanwhile Dean, on the same scene, is allowed beer & whiskey.)

We're used to taking spn's homophobic rep and jokes to make it our own. Yet it seems, when it comes to Crowley, the fandom doesn't see it.

Sometimes people aren't attracted to the gender heteronormativity expects them to be attracted to.......... sometimes people are gay and it's not an umbrella term.

[pomegranates-and-blood]

The Holly And The Ivy

My Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar/Reader, Sigurd/Reader, Sigurd/Margrethe

Summary: “I had this idea where Sigurd (or any of the brothers really) were to marry a Christian, but their marriage is dry and more political than anything, but Ivar is fascinated by her attitude (being opposite of him) and her love for life and simple things. He hears the reader and who she's married to talking about how she loves Christmas and he shuts her down, but Ivar decides to let her pick out a tree from the forest and put it up in the Great Hall and decorate it any way she wants. And the ending would include a kiss under mistletoe? If you can work with it.”

I’m very sorry if I dissapoint you anon, but the story was easier or smoother for me to write as a Modern!AU. I really hope you don’t mind. I can try something in the actual time period still, if you are not happy with au’s.

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: Mentions of cheating, passing mentions of abusive relationships (not involving any of the relationsips in the tag btw), angst, my poor attempt at holiday fics or holiday spirit. Also, a part is not smut or explicit but getting closer to it than most of my work, so that too.

A/N: I really hope I don’t dissapoint whoever requested this. Also, I made this way more complicated than it needed to be, bc I always do, and for that I’m also sorry. Hope you like this, thank you for reading!

The title is from a Christmas carol, cause why not lol

Taglist: @1950schick @youbloodymadgenius​ (I realized you once asked to be tagged on my Vikings works and I forgot, sorry)

“When we are done with this trip we’ll go back home.” Sigurd points out one night as you both say goodnight, in some hotel somewhere in Norway.

“Home?”

“To my mother’s, in a week. Family time and all that.”

Before you are to leave for your own room, you call out, “For Christmas?”

The blond shakes his head, “Yule. You can celebrate your Christmas when we return.”

“That’ll be after the New Year!” You complain softly, offering a smile because you cannot help it.

“I will have to deal with Ivar and my mother, you can deal with this.” Sigurd sentences, the harshness startling you and prompting you to accept the words with a nod.

He mutters a goodnight again, hesitating for a moment on his bedroom door, as if questioning whether he should say sorry or not. You choose to relieve him of that choice, going into your own room and closing the door with a quiet click.

As if it were waiting for the door to close, your phone lights up on your nightstand.

How’s Oslo?

You type a quick response,

You could just ask me if we’ll be attending your mother’s celebrations, you know.

The response takes a while longer, and you cannot help the smile that pulls at your lips.

…Are you?

I expect all those lessons of yours with Floki to come to use. I’m going to need to learn about Yule, apparently.

So I’m supposed to teach you?

Who else?

Your fiancé. Is the reply you get, so fast you think he already knew what your reply was going to be before you even sent it. After a moment, before you can even think on what to answer, another message comes through. Nvm, my brother is useless. I’ll do it.

Your lips pull into a wide and stupid smile, and God, not even the shame at the quick beating of your heart or the warmth that spreads through you could make you be any less thankful for this, if anything. For him.

Thank you. Are you going to be there by Christmas?

This time the answer takes a while longer, and the indication that he is typing appears and disappears a few times.

I don’t know. Before you can ask anything, or send anything, a new message pops up. Princess, this doesn’t get any easier. I don’t know if I can.

Tears rise in your eyes because a part of you knows you’re meant to say goodbye at the end, and every time you are reminded, either by the pain in your own chest or Ivar’s words, that you are on borrowed time; you realize that end is close than you think.

Well, in that case, Merry Christmas, Ivar.

____

You find yourself being driven to that massive and fancy house by your fiancé.

You toy with your engagement ring as the car approaches the house. You know, rationally, that you have nothing to fear. The brothers have never been mean or hurtful -well, most of them haven’t-, and Aslaug has always been courteous and kind and…incredibly performative.

A part of you never ceased to feel like an outsider looking in. Between the pariah that a stupid business practice will be made into Sigurd’s wife, and the silent and soft woman they ignore as if she were another piece of furniture, you’d much rather be the latter.

“Heavy little thing, isn’t it?” Sigurd teases as he turns off the engine, motioning with his head to the rings on your left hand.

You don’t say anything in response, simply getting out of the car in silence. You know he meant well, he always does.

But a part of you that is hopeful and childish and still looks at the snow that starts to fall lightly over the ground as some miracle that means Christmas is upon us…that part of you cannot help but feel bitter about it all. Regretful, or, maybe, resentful.

You never imagined life would be this, engagement -marriage- would be this. You thought of happiness and warmth and fidelity.

Foolish hopes, really. The hopes of a child that watched her parents dance to the light of the Christmas lights, to the music of the soft music her father hummed. Nothing but foolish hopes.

So, when Sigurd steps out and hesitates in offering you his hand, you offer a smile and take his hand in yours, choosing to appreciate that at least the man you will be forced to marry is one you might call a friend, a partner, one day.

It is easy to forget, it is easy to let your heart be light and just enjoy the adorable giggles of Björn and Torvi’s children, the sympathetic smile of Margrethe, the warm and brotherly embrace of Hvitserk.

You are sipping on wine and watching Ubbe throw Asa over his head as she yells for him to throw her higher when a presence stands by your side and a wine glass clinks with your own in silent toast.

“I know you know about Sigurd and me,” Margrethe whispers, “And I want you to know I am sorry. But…I won’t leave him, not until he asks me to.”

If a year ago someone told you that you’d spent Christmas Eve being told by your fiancé’s mistress that she refuses to stop seeing him, you would have assumed the world turned on its head.

It did, but…you still find it in you to love this world that hurts you, this life that tests you.

You offer a smile, “I know you love him. It started as…”

“Gold-digging?” The blonde supplies, a sheepish grimace on her face.

“I wouldn’t be as unkind as to-…”

“You should. That’s what it was,” Her smile loses the edge, and she falters, “At first.”

You accept her words with a nod, and another sip of your wine.

“Then as long as you are discreet, I don’t mind. Keep him happy, Margrethe, he deserves it.”

You start to walk away when she stops you with a call of your name.

“And you don’t? Deserve to be happy, I mean.”

You hesitate, faltering for a few seconds too long. Her blue eyes are big and uncharacteristically honest as they look at you.

“I…”

You take your gaze off hers, because it feels like she will know something she shouldn’t, something you don’t want her to; but your eyes betray you, it seems.

“Oh, him. Well-kept secret, that one,” She states, and when you open your mouth to argue, Margrethe shakes her head, “It’s okay, I don’t…I don’t blame you. Even if I don’t understand at all how that came to be.”

“It’s…”

“Complicated?” The blonde supplies, and you allow yourself a smile, you loosen your shoulders and close your eyes with a deep breath.

“Ivar, he…understands me.”

“But you two are nothing alike,” She states, and at your shrug, concedes, “Maybe that’s why.”

“Maybe,” You offer, and after a breath, because bitter regret at being the thing that keeps her from the man she loves chokes you for a moment, “Margrethe, I…”

“Don’t you even think of apologizing to me,” She laughs, “Gods, woman, you truly are a soft thing, aren’t you?”

“I have the privilege of being it.” You offer with a kind smile, because you’ve seen the scars, because you remember her when she was more fragile.

Margrethe shakes her head, “The burden.” She corrects, and with a soft squeeze of her free hand on your arm, she walks away.

____

It’s on the day before Christmas that the last of the Lothbrok arrives. You walk down the stairs to a very early breakfast, and jump when the front door opens to reveal Ubbe and Ivar.

He came.

“You are up early.” Ubbe comments as he passes you by, dropping a kiss on your cheek.

You greet Ubbe absently, your eyes on his brother. Numbly, you hear him say something about telling Aslaug that Ivar has come home, and quick steps carrying him up the stairs.

Your lips curve into a smile, or at least they try to, “Hi.”

“Hello, Princess,” Ivar greets, what months ago would have been a smirk curving his lips. Now, now it’s more tired and worn than anything. “Just in time for your…Christmas, right?”

You nod, feeling the stupid urge to cry, “Yeah. Means a lot, you know.”

“Well, I could feel you pouting over the phone, love,” His eyes check the stairs before he moves aided by his crutch towards you with a wince of pain -the cold, you remind yourself, the cold making his legs ache-, and once he is before you, a hand that shouldn’t feel as tender as it does cups your cheek and brings your mouth to his. “I couldn’t leave you alone here. You always find ways to embarrass yourself.”

You chuckle, burrowing your head on his chest as you embrace him.

“I may have fucked up a few times,” You concede, eyes closed as you take in his scent, his warmth, “But I’m cute, I get away with a lot of things.”

____

As the timer on your phone dings, you get up from the couch, leaving a warm but strong drink behind, and make your way to the kitchen, ready to take out the sponge cake -no, a voice too alike Ivar corrects you, Bûche de Noël-.

Uneven steps behind you let you know of who walked in behind you, and you turn around with a slight frown on your brows, meaning to ask something before he interrupts you.

“He’s groping and kissing her in front of you, and you say nothing?” Ivar demands, anger shining clearly in his blue eyes.

“Sigurd and Margrethe?” You ask, and shake your head, “Why would I say anything?”

“You know about them.”

“Of course I do. He doesn’t hide it from me, and he shouldn’t hide it from his family. He loves her, and she loves him.”

“You don’t care that he’s humiliating you?” He presses, and you sigh.

“Everyone here knows how things truly are between Sigurd and me.”

Ivar’s mouth curls into a snarl, and cruelty spews from his lips, “Well, if you had let Ragnar know you had no problem letting your husband fuck whoever he wants, you might have been able to marry Björn, like your father wanted.”

You close your eyes, “Don’t be like this.”

“Like what, hm? Like someone that’s watching the woman he-…What am I supposed to be then, hm? What would make you happy?” He accuses, not losing the cruel edge in his voice even if you both know what he stopped himself from admitting. When you don’t answer, Ivar takes a deep and angry breath through his nose, “I’ve always been jealous of my brothers, you know this. Growing up their poor crippled brother is nothing to knowing Sigurd gets you and doesn’t even know what he-…what I’d do to be him.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Make him be the man you deserve!”

“He’s not the man I want,” You point out before you can keep the words trapped behind your lips. Ivar is inexplicably stunned by your words, it seems, and you lower your gaze. Resting your hands on the counter you drop your shoulders and shake your head, letting go of the previous argument and returning to…peace, or as close to it as one can get with Ivar. “Your brother deserves to be as happy as he can, with the woman he loves. It will not hurt me to see him with her. As long as-…”

“‘As long as it is discreet’, yes, I know. My mother and Ragnar have the same agreement.”

“It works for them, does it not?”

Ivar meets your gaze and doesn’t answer for a few moments, long enough that dread sets in your chest and questions arise in your mind.

Eventually, on the side of his jaw the clear tell of gritted teeth, he replies,

“Not as well as you think.”

“Well, Sigurd and I are friends, we…things will work out. They have to.”

“They have to, of course,” He mocks, moving his head as he rolls his eyes, “Anything to keep Ragnar and your father happy, hm?”

“Ivar…”

His eyes search yours, searching for the answer to a question he has not yet asked,

“I-If I asked you not to do this, if I…if I asked you for more time…” He leaves the words hanging between you, and you blink past helpless tears. He knows the answer, you know the answer.

Thankfully, you don’t have to remind him -and yourself- of the world you live in, of the lives you were meant to live, because the door to the kitchen opens and Aslaug walks through.

You keep your eyes firmly set on the tray before you, even though you can feel Ivar’s eyes on you, demanding an answer. When he realizes he will not get one, he grunts, a clenched fist hitting the counter once before he walks away.

“I’m sorry.” You offer the matriarch as she keeps her all-seeing eyes on you, but Aslaug offers a smile. A fake one, but a smile nonetheless.

“The cold gets to Ivar, it makes him irritable. It is not your fault.” She soothes, but the smile you offer her in thanks still trembles. You both know these are lies you are sharing with one another, and though it makes you falter and stumble, Aslaug moves gracefully from one lie to the next.

“I’ll-…” You point behind you, to the living room, but the woman shakes her head.

“Surely you have time to help me with this?” She asks. It feels like walking into a wolf’s den when you nod your head and approach her.

“Of course.”

She watches raptly as you assist her in preparing the Yule Log, and you focus on doing your best to keep your hands from trembling.

“For someone that doesn’t follow the Gods, you know a lot about tradition, girl.”

“I…It was the least I could do, learning about what is important to your family, to Sigurd.” You offer, and whatever she -who always has the look of someone that sees beyond what normal eyes can- can sense in your words makes Aslaug stop.

She turns to you, and surprises you with a hand on your cheek. The woman towards over you, but the gentleness in her touch, the warmth in her eyes, they help you to not feel threatened.

“Still loving the world that hurts you, sweet thing?”

“It’s all I know how to do.”

Aslaug’s smile is almost sad when she looks into your eyes, “To love, yes, I know. Wish I saw that sooner,” You don’t know what to answer to that, so you offer her only a shaky smile and a shrug. Aslaug chuckles gently, “And you love my son, don’t you?”

The terrifying thought that she knows what she’s doing when not saying any names, the realization nothing gets past her and neither did whatever is between you and Ivar, it all settles in your stomach with a dead weight.

Still, whether she asks about Sigurd or Ivar, the answer is the same.

“Yes.”

One as a friend, a partner, a man you can learn to respect and build a life alongside of. The other, as everything you ever wanted, as someone that will always make you wonder about the ‘what if’s.

She shakes off whatever takes a hold of her, and before you can ask what she means, why it pains her, she steps back from you and turns her back to you.

“You know, Ragnar isn’t the only one in this family with an eye for business. I was once in the same position you are now, the heiress to an empire,” Aslaug’s smile seems to thaw as she hands you a refilled glass of wine to match hers. Resting her backside on the counter behind her, she continues, “My parents were able to teach me a few valuable lessons before their death.

She grabs your left hand, stopping you. Her eyes look deeply into yours, but her thumb rolls your engagement ring on your finger.

“Like how to understand when I can’t make any more moves. And when I can change the wording in a deal to make it favor me.

Your lips part, you think to say something, but Aslaug stops you with a smile.

“Let’s hope you’ve learned the same lessons, my dear.”

____

Ubbe is dancing with Asa standing on his feet, and you watch with a smile on your face as the family enjoys time together, and celebrates the holidays in their own way.

A part of you misses the Christmas lights, the decorations you’d help your parents put up when you were a kid. A part of you misses how simple life was back then, how in this time of year you could forget there was a world past the snow drifting down and the warmth of a hearth and a home.

Ivar comes right up to you, but doesn’t sit next to you, choosing to remain standing.

“Grab your coat,” He orders, and at your confused frown, he rolls his eyes and amends, “Please.”

The most insincere please in the history of pleases, but you know you get more than most, so you don’t comment on it.

Still, you have to ask, “Why?”

“I-…a surprise,” He says, and insists you move with a gesture of his head, “Come on.”

You follow him to the small house the Lothbroks have by the pool, a cozy little home of big windows. When Ivar motions for you to go in ahead of him, a part of you is suspicious, but you still skip your way inside and try not to ask questions as to how it is so warm here when it should be vacant.

Ivar turns the lights on, and you find in the middle of the living room a Christmas tree.

The tree is bare, but still lively and familiar.

You turn to Ivar with tears in your eyes, because you cannot help it.

“You did this for me?”

“You love your Christmas,” He mumbles, embarrassed at the reaction his -to some, uncharacteristic- thoughtfulness got out of you. “I figured you deserved to have some of it with you here.”

“Did you buy Christmas lights?” You ask softly, almost moving up and down in the balls of your feet in excitement, eyeing the bags on a chair nearby.

Ivar chuckles, endeared, and nods, “Go ahead, Princess.”

You skip your way to the bags, quickly looking over the goods and already planning on how to decorate it, how to make it look pretty, how to make it yours.

You don’t truly know how long you spend on it, gleefully putting up Christmas lights, and little ornaments. During the whole time you spent excitedly decorating the tree, you can feel Ivar’s eyes on you, and when you look back at him you find him staring with a strange softness in his gaze.

You choose not to think too much on it, and instead ask his opinion on the decorations, that he gives gruffly and with a very poor attempt at making you believe that -either because Christmas grew on him, which you find very unlikely, or because of your own happiness- he isn’t happy to be here.

____

You smile at the warm and twinkling lights, and burrow closer to Ivar’s warmth, refusing to take your eyes off the dancing lights and refusing to put your feet back on the ground.

Refusing to step out of the fantasy that this could be your life.

Ivar shifts his position, and you lift your head from the juncture between his neck and shoulder and meet his eyes in question.

His eyes give away so much, always have, at least to you. And now they reflect the warm sparkle of the Christmas lights, and they reflect hesitation, fear, uncertainty, love.

Before you can ask what is wrong, Ivar leans in, his hand previously around you tangling in your hair as his lips claim yours.

His kiss is always demanding, but this time it holds desperation in the way Ivar begs for your lips to part with his own, it holds an urgency in the way his tongue dances with yours, it holds a ragged edge in the shaky breath that he lets out through his nose, it holds a goodbye in the way he ends the kiss as if forcing himself to pull away from you.

You try getting your breath under control and your voice to be yours again, but he’s so close, and warm, and yours; and all you want to do is kiss him again.

Kiss him again, and make the furrow in his brow, the pain in his eyes, go away. Kiss him again, and pretend you are not living on borrowed time.

So you do.

You kiss him, and take control of the kiss, and make him groan lightly against your mouth when you tug on his hair, and whimper his name against his own when you straddle him and feel him getting hard underneath you.

When your need for breath makes you part from his kiss, Ivar wastes no time trailing fervent kisses down your neck, panting breaths against the hot skin that he kisses and licks and bites.

You moan his name, forgetting everything but the touch of his lips on your skin, forgetting everything but the scent and taste and feel of him.

Either at the sound of your voice or the grind of your hips against his hardening cock, Ivar’s breath stutters and he breathes your name back at you, voice low.

His brow rests against your collarbone as he takes deep breaths, and your fingers toy at the hair that flows down to his shoulders.

“You know…” He murmurs, pressing a kiss that makes you shiver right on the dip between your collarbones, “There’s nothing I want more right now than marking this pretty neck of yours. Leaving you with…” His teeth scrape against your skin, a tease both for you and himself. Ivar does it a few more times, and moves up your neck again. Your breath shudders past your lips, and you tug on his hair to remind him of what he was saying. You always did love hearing him speak. For all the months you spend apart, his voice telling you what he’d do to you, what he’d have you do to him, is all that keeps you warm. Ivar chuckles, but continues, “Leaving you with my mark all over you, where everyone can see, so…so that they don’t doubt you’re mine.

His hands tighten on your waist, before they travel down, caressing your thighs as he sighs.

“But you’re not, are you? And I can’t…I can’t do any of that. I can’t-…”

You interrupt him before his thoughts can get ahead of him, before he can twist himself into knots about the situation you are both in.

“I am yours. Only yours.” You remind him softly, your lips by his ear. You lean back so you can meet his eyes, and seal your promise with a soft kiss over his lips.

Ivar’s eyes search yours when you pull back, with the same look as before. Uncertain, lost, tender and yet almost sad.

“Marry me.” He whispers, keeping his eyes on yours.

“What?” You squeak, eyes wide. He couldn’t have…he knows that…none of this makes any sense.

“Marry me instead of Sigurd,” He insists, and as if remembering the part he forgot, he curses and hurries to fetch something from his pocket. He offers you a simple but beautiful ring, and swallows, “I-I can make you happier than he ever could, I…I love you.

I know you can, you already do.

I love you too.

But you can’t say any of that, because your breaths are shallow and your head is filled with thoughts and…and you need space.

You scramble to stand, to put distance between the two of you. After a few controlled breaths, you return your eyes to Ivar, whose hand has now fallen back to his lap even if he still holds on to the delicate ring.

He grits his teeth, the obvious tell at the side of his jaw, and he seems to want to divert his eyes from you, but he only blinks and keeps certain eyes on you.

“Your father wants you to marry one of Ragnar’s sons, he doesn’t care who. I…have talked with my father, he agrees that if you want to, we can…” He licks his lips in a nervous gesture, “Mother says any backlash from breaking the engagement can be handled.”

“You’ve thought this through.”

“Of course I have, y-you’d be Sigurd’s wife if I didn’t think of something,” A twitch of anger, of uncertainty, of fear, on his face, and then he amends, “You still can be. But I want you to be able to choose.”

Choose me, is what he doesn’t say.

Your heart is lodged in your throat, and you try a few times before you can finally speak,

“Ivar, we haven’t…it’s been only a few months.”

“And it will not work out, that’s what you’re saying?” He huffs, defensive, “It won’t work out if you marry my brother either.”

“I-…this-…”

“Stop thinking of excuses,” He snaps, gritted teeth and hurt written in his eyes, “I’ll handle everything, no matter your answer. Just…just give me an answer, Princess.”

____

It is open ended cause there’s two ends to this, I wanted to leave the choice to you guys! So, follow the link for the epilogue of your choice:

Will you accept the proposal and be bound to Ivar, for better or worse?

Or will you stay with Sigurd, and be content with companionship and friendship?

Hope you liked this, even if it wasn’t very holiday-ey. I wish you all very happy holidays and a great (or decent, after 2020 I’m happy with decent) 2021!!

(Ik it’s like the 13th and I’m gonna be very much around here posting and bothering the whole lot of ya till the holidays and beyond, but holiday fic and all that, ‘twas the perfect time to send good wishes and all. Love ya!)

[artsoupsoupart]

911 Smut Week: Turn Blue

Day 2: Day Two: Handcuffs, sex toys, anything you want to incorporate into a pwp and/or have a plot too.

A/N: I’d like to apologize bc these prompts are gonna be SO late lol. But I’m committed to finishing these and Madney Week lol 

Read on Ao3 

Maddie Buckley is a goddamn tease. It’s a fact that Chimney has developed a love for over the past few months as they’ve grown closer as a couple. Sure, she’s boosted his ego many times by letting him know he’s better at it than she is. And he is. But still, Maddie is learning and exploring, and she has her talents. She’s sneaky and calculative, striking as though she’s a lioness and he’s her unsuspecting prey. Maddie doesn’t have to necessarily do or say anything to get the man riled up. She’s a woman of few words but the look in her eyes and the sway of her hips always tells him exactly what he needs to know about the game she’s formulated in her mind.

Maddie has been tempting him for the past seventy-two hours. Her kisses before either of them leaves for work are slow, deep, filled with a heated passion that makes him want to call out sick and focus on only her and her body and her pleasure. Her touch lingers against his hips and waist and biceps. She has pressed against his chest more than once, sometimes braless so her pebbled nipples can be felt through their clothes. At the karaoke bar the night before, Maddie had let her hand, which had been not so innocently on his thigh the entire night, trail up towards his crotch, a perfectly painted nail tracing over the zipper as he hardens under her touch with their friends and coworkers singing and drinking away, little words being whispered into his neck that send a shudder through him and his ears blaze red. It took everything in him to not drag her to the restroom and show her exactly what she does to him. And still, she did not give him the release he so desperately needed last night.  Maddie Buckley is a goddamn tease, and she sports this devilish smile with confidence because she knows the affect she has on him.

When they’re finally free from the constraints of work and siblings and friends and have the opportunity to simply indulge in one another, her torture (because that’s exactly what this is no matter how much he enjoys it) begins with Chimney stripped bare and put on display for her on the couch like a five-star meal or perhaps precious jewels. She truly has Chimney practically drooling at the sight in front of him: tanned skin beneath simple but lacey black underwear, her curled hair long and flowing along her shoulders. The heels. That’s what really has Chimney’s breath stuttering. The heels she has on are tall and a deep blood red. He has half a mind to blurt out that she could do absolutely anything to him as long as the heels stay on. But this isn’t his game, it’s hers and she’ll refrain from giving him what he needs if he oversteps.

She takes a few steps forward and leans down close to him, a millimeter away and he can feel the heat radiating from her entire body. Or perhaps it’s his. Maybe both. Both is good. His eyes drop to her cleavage and his eyes glaze over in lust as her lips press to his in a bruising kiss. Chimney reaches up to place his hands on her waist, her hips, her breasts, anywhere he can reach but they’re instantly slapped away. She clicks her tongue as if scolding him, her lips trailing along his jaw to his ear which she takes between her teeth before she whispers in his ear, “No. Touching.”

The order is more for her own good than his because as soon as his hands get to explore familiar paths, she loses her resolve and lets him have his way with her. She doesn’t want that though he’s sure she would have no problem prolonging his torture for another day.

When his hands move back to the couch, he wants to curse because there’s nothing to hold on to as Maddie says, “good boy”, and her lips begin their descent down the column of his neck. She stops at his Adam’s apple for a moment, nipping and chuckling as it bobs up and down when he thickly swallows. He’s cute like this, needy like she normally is and as ready as ever. It’s been a fun few days of seduction, of mentally edging him until she could do so physically. Her tongue swirls around his surprisingly sensitive nipples, enjoying the way he squirms beneath her lips before she trails down washboard abs. Maddie sits on a fluffy pillow on the floor between his legs, eye level with his erection. He’s sure he sees absolute lust on her face and something else that is commanding and dominant and, God, he wants her to get it over with so he can bury himself within her. Long nails scratch at thighs that tense under their pressure. His hands clench into fists and for a moment Chimney wonders if he can keep his arousal at bay.

“I want you to last as long as you can, Chim. Can you do that for me?”  

She says it so innocently yet so… sensually and his mind briefly fogs as his imagination runs. He doesn’t want to, doesn’t want to stave off his orgasm because he needs her more than he thinks he’s ever needed anyone before. But he will. He will because it’ll be worth it in the end. Chimney nods, swallowing again, his mouth dry with want.

“Use your words,” she scolds as her head tilts, and she raises a brow.

He has to tell himself to play her game, to be compliant, maybe a bit subservient because it’ll be worth it. What’s to come (and his revenge) will be absolutely glorious. “I can do anything for you.”

That’s exactly what she likes to hear. She leans her head against his thigh, her nose just shy of pressing against his erection. The amount of blood rushing to his dick truly has him a bit lightheaded. Maddie isn’t sure if he’s been this aroused by her before, but she makes a mental note to tease him more often if this is the response she’ll receive. Pearly teeth dip into her lip as the pad of her finger runs over a thick, throbbing vein. This beautiful cock that is hers to please and use twitches beneath her touch. Maddie internally swells with power. She breathes him in, the scent heady, musky, and masculine, so uniquely Chimney that it makes her mouth water.

For what seems like forever, she simply touches him. Her fingers are featherlight. The point of her nose joins her fingers every now and then and that’s something he never knew would make the fire in his gut blaze so bright. She avoids the tip, the most sensitive part of him besides his heart, though it’s been dripping precum for almost as long as she’s been touching him. The thick drops trail down his shaft aiding in the sensations of lithe digits that have barely touched him. He can do this, it’s not that bad. That’s the lie he tells himself. It’s hell because he wants her to fully use her hands or her mouth or anything and relieve him of the pressure that is teasingly building.

When her tongue pokes out for the first time to run against the vein, from base to just before his bulbous mushroom head, all the air is knocked out of Chimney’s lungs. He has half a mind to beg, but he knows it won’t work. Maddie is stubborn, if him begging would have worked, he would have been deep within her days ago. Still avoiding his tip, she flattens her tongue against his shaft. It’s not much for sensations, but the visual of her licking him like the best ice cream cone is enough for his heart to beat a little faster in anticipation.

After a few more minutes, Maddie catches his gaze, grinning at the stress of his brow and the way his tongue pokes out to wet his lips. “Too much?” she asks.

Chimney stares back at her, shakes his head before audibly saying no. His girlfriend pats his leg before leaning away to shuffle through the bin under the coffee table, the bin that’s mostly used for random magazines that arrive in the mail and the remote. His darkened eyes land on the bottle of lubricant, one of many in their collection that she must have placed there earlier. Chimney lets out a strained groan which gets a laugh out of his girlfriend. Their collection of flavored lube is growing, and it seems Maddie has chosen chocolate cherry, one of her favorites. The liquid, though cold, drips onto his throbbing tip and Chimney lets out the most delicious groan. Maddie almost takes pity on him. Almost.

Her hand, covered in a bit of lube as well, wraps around the base of his erection and she begins stroking in long passes. Her eyes barely leave her handiwork, watching as he glistens. Maddie adjusts, moving to kneel on the pillow instead of sit, watching as he still drips for her. Ever the tease, she presses a kiss to a gooey droplet on the very tip, the taste of him and the lubricant deliciously mingling. Chimney’s entire body shudders and he lets out a groan when she licks at his head. With this reaction, Maddie herself can’t do much more teasing. She wraps her lips around his head, sucking and sucking in time with the stroke of her hand. She keeps this up before opening her mouth to him, drawing him in as deep as she can. Brown eyes that she loves so much roll back as he tenses and tries to relax in her mouth and Maddie attempts to stifle a laugh. The vibrations shoot through him, and his hands squeeze at the couch cushions. It would be so easy to chase the sensations that the warmth of her mouth brings. It would be so easy to let himself tense and tense and tense until he explodes in the back of her throat. There wouldn’t be anything she could do about it if he does, though he’s sure she’d disapprove and who knows what punishment that would bring him. Instead, Chimney attempts to think about anything other than the way her tongue swirls around the head of his dick. Anything other than the feeling of him being drawn down her warm throat as far as she can take it.

It takes everything in Chimney to stop her when he feels his orgasm truly begin to build. He can’t take more, he thinks. He wants to be inside of her when he releases for her. He’s been flirting with the brink of release for at least two hours when she twirls the silicone ring around her finger just in his line of view. Chimney groans and that devilish smile of hers returns. Chimney has no problem with getting hard, staying hard, or stamina. But the couple of rings they bought really add to their pleasure, allowing Chimney to draw out more of Maddie’s beautiful orgasms. Their eyes meet as her underwear falls to the floor. It takes just a second and she slips the ring around the base of his cock, her desire growing just as his erection does right before her eyes.

“Feel alright?” she asks, not wanting him to be uncomfortable in the slightest.

He nods, clears his throat before choking out a yes as the ring squeezes against his base. It feels good, but it feels even better when Maddie straddles his lap and sinks down on him, grateful they read the ingredients to the lube before purchasing and delighted at the way his face contorts and his breath catches in his throat. She takes him, inch by inch. Chimney isn’t necessarily long, probably somewhere slightly above average in length but girthier than most. The ring emphasizes his width, has her pressing her mouth to his to stifle the guttural moan the leaves her throat as she adjusts. There’s nothing for him to grab and Maddie hasn’t told him he can touch yet, so he chooses to stuff his hands between the cushions to counteract the way her walls clench around him.

Maddie focuses on herself for the most part, rocking her hips in a way that feels good, but it doesn’t stop Chimney’s own pleasure from building on its own accord. Chimney’s head falls back to the couch, and he simply watches her, watches her erotic scene of him disappearing and reappearing between them. He wants to touch her. He needs to touch her or do something with his hands beside clutch onto plush cushions. She’s sexy, exceedingly sexy with her eyes closed and her head tilted to the side. Her tongue pokes out to lick her lips.  When her eyes open, his girlfriend, his beautiful, talented, wonderfully evil girlfriend adjusts once more, one foot propping up for leverage. The change in angle is just what she needs if the rapid sounds of her moans are any sign, and it allows for him to press in just the perfect spot to draw out every single ounce of pleasure he can.

It’s when his hands move to the back of the couch to ground himself in reality that she takes them and moves one to her still covered breast and the other to her ass, giving him permission. It’s as though Chimney comes alive at being able to touch her. His own talented fingers draw the cup of her bra down, teeth nipping at the skin of her breast before he pulls her nipple into his mouth until it’s erect. She clenches around him with every suck of his mouth. His other hand kneads and palms at her ass and it’s as though he hasn’t touched her in years. They find their rhythm easily, slow at first because Maddie isn’t quite done teasing yet. She can’t last long. She’s been dripping wet for as long as he has and the way he reacts to her, the way he wants so desperately to please her has that metaphorical rubber band close to its snapping point. Maddie watches as he goes doe-eyed for her, and she knows he’s close.

“Is that all you can take, baby?” her hips don’t stop their movement as she asks him, and he nods. She tuts again, her hips rocking in time with her own command. “Use. Your. Words.”

“Yes, Maddie. Fuck, Maddie it’s all… I can’t…” His hands dig into her waist, hard enough to bruise as their pace increases, but she welcomes the minute pain as she climbs the ladder of her own desire once more.

Ever the pleaser, Chimney grunts through his own arousal. He removes one hand from her waist to find her clit, stimulating her both inside and out until she’s panting and letting expletives of her own fall from plumped lips. His thrusting hips match his circling fingers and she’s so close, her toes curl in excitement.

“Howie,” she draws out his name as she begins to pulse around him in her own release.

Maddie leans forward, wraps her arms around his neck and presses her lips to his ear and tells him to make her come, to come inside of her while he does it, as deep as he can, as much as he can. Her words are a catalyst to his orgasm, sending him over the edge he’s been on for hours. Hearing him cum for her is the most satisfying sound. Feeling him thrust into her until he’s done is just as spectacular. Maddie could get drunk off the way her name sounds as it’s stretched through moan after moan of his pleasure.

When their hips slow and they catch their breath, Maddie presses her lips to his. He’s a vision as his eyes droop. He’s exhausted in the cutest way. She slips from him, slips the ring from around his dick. They’ll need to clean themselves and the toy up before getting into bed. With one hand, Maddie pulls a still dazed Chimney from the couch and all but drags him to the bathroom for a nice, soothing bath, both of their legs jelly and their lust for one another satisfied. For now.

[jk-unless]

Tuwaine’s Friend

Pairing(s):Tom Holland x Black!Reader,Platonic!Tuwaine Barrett x Black!Reader

Warnings: None

Not Requested

~*~

You and Tuwaine became fast friends while he was visiting the states back in 2015. You ran into each other at a McDonalds.A middle aged woman was making a big scene about her order being made wrong.Tuwaine,who was in front of you in line,turned towards you and asked you if this was something that happened often.

“You mean at McDonalds?Have you never been here?”You asked,more curious than trying to be rude.

“Oh,I actually meant the states in general.” He clarified.The use of the term “the states” made everything click.

“Oooh,you’re not from here!Yeah,sadly,this is a pretty normal thing.It’s best to get a woman like her’s order exactly right the first time or there will be a scene.”

Tuwaine sighs in frustration. “I’m just trying to eat.”

“Don’t worry,it won’t be too much longer before she storms off.”You comforted him.As you said this,the woman let out a final obnoxious sigh.

“I will be calling corporate about this!” She angrily grabbed her takeout bag and stomped out of the restaurant.

“Thank God.” Tuwaine muttered quietly so only you could hear him.You giggled as he walked up to the counter.The cashier apologized about the scene to which Tuwaine assured her it was alright.He gave her his order then turned to you again.

“...And whatever the nice lady behind me wants.”

Your eyes widened a bit.”You sure?” You asked,taken back by the kindness.He nodded with a small smile.You thanked him then proceeded with your order.

The two of you ate together and talked about anything that came to mind.He eventually explained to you that it was actually his last day there before he went back home.Not wanting this to be last time you talked to the sweet guy, you decided to exchange numbers to keep in touch.

~*~

Now in present day,Tuwaine fools around with Tom between scenes of Spider-Man:Far From Home.As Tuwaine laughs about something with Tom,he gets a text from one of the staff members that someone by the name of Y/N L/N was there to see him.

“Oh shit,she’s here!” He exclaimed,jumping up out of his spot.

“Wait,the girl you mentioned earlier?I’m not ready!” Tom says,dramatically running to the nearest mirror to try to fix his hair.

“You’re Tom Holland,she’ll be happy to see you no matter what you look like.” He rolls his eyes at his friend’s desperate attempt to look more put together.In a matter of minutes,the two of them hear a knock on the door of Tom’s trailer.Tuwaine whips open the door and smiles when he sees you.He pulls you in and tackles you in a bear hug to which let out a startled and happy laugh.Tom smiles at the pure interaction in front of him.As Tuwaine let’s go of you,he finally introduces the two of you.

“Tom,Y/N.Y/N,Tom.” He motions between the two of you.

“Hi,it’s really nice to meet you.” Tom says with a bright smile that makes your face heat up.These are times where you’re happy that your melanin hides your shyness.

“Nice to meet you too,Tom.And may I just say,you’re even more attractive in person.”You say,making it Tom’s turn to blush.You discreetly watch in the corner of your eye as Tuwaine rolls his eyes.

“I can say the same about you!The pictures Tuwaine showed me didn’t do you justice.”Tom chuckles a bit as he remembers one pic in particular.”Especially the one where-“ Tuwaine quickly shushes him to save his own skin.Tom slapped a hand over his mouth,but it was too late.You menacingly turned towards you’re old friend.

“You showed Tom Holland an embarrassing picture of me?!”Before Tuwaine could even properly explain himself,Tom was called onto set.He quickly excused himself and told the two of you that he’ll be back in a bit.You watched him exit the trailer,then turned towards Tuwaine once again.He smiled nervously.

“You don’t have to go with him?” You asked,motioning to the door to which Tuwaine explained that he already filmed his scene.He tensed as you moved towards him,not expecting the hug that came after.

“You’re lucky I’ve missed ya ass too much to be mad at you.” You begrudgingly told him.He let out a sigh of relief and hugged you back.

“Oh,thank God.You hungry?”

“I could eat.”

~*~

As the day went on,the three of you actually spent a lot of time together.Even Jake,Zendaya,and Jacob would join you guys once in a while.And let me tell you,your heart was not ready for any of those interactions.You literally almost cried when Zendaya introduced herself to you.During you guys’ down time together,you’d often catch Tom sneaking glances at you.You didn’t want to get your hopes up,so you dismissed it as just him being curious of the person who seemed to mean so much to his dear friend.You really wanted to stay around all of these lovely people, but at around 1:00 in the morning you realized filming wasn’t going to end anytime soon and that you should probably turn in for the night.When you made this decision,it was only you in Tuwaine in the trailer.

“Tutu,I think I’m gonna head to the hotel now.” You announced,using the embarrassing nickname that you first gave him about three months into your friendship.He watched as you started to gather your things.”

Yeah,it is getting pretty late.You want me to come with you?”Tuwaine asked.You looked down with mock shyness and muttered “If you don’t mind.”He rolled his eyes and huffed at your antics.As the two of you made your way out of the trailer,he mentioned that you guys should inform Tom you were leaving.You agreed and the two of you headed towards the set.You made sure they weren’t filming before approaching Tom as he got his suit adjusted by a stylist.He smiled as he caught sight of the two of you,then realized you had you’re stuff in your hands.

“Oh,are you guys leaving?” He asked and pouted at you.His cute frowny face caught you off guard,but luckily Tuwaine answered for the both you.

“Yeah,this one here isn’t really used to being out so late.” He said motioning to you.”Not mention the slight time zone changed has me feeling a little off.” You added.

“Oh,no it’s fine,I totally get it.” Tom said,quick to reassure you that there was no problem.”So uhh,I’ll see you later,man.” He said,dapping Tuwaine off then turning to you with his arms open.”May I?” He asked.You giggled at his politeness and gave him an enthusiastic “Yeah,sure!” The hug was quick,but warm and overall really pleasant.As you were still holding each other,he muttered “It was really nice to meet you.” You smiled grew as you replied “You too,Tom.”

The two of you broke away and you and Tuwaine told him a final bye over your shoulder as you made your way to exit.

~*~

Like the good friend Tuwaine is,he got you safely to your hotel room and made sure you had everything you needed.He planned on staying with you for a bit,then realized that you were quite literally about to pass out.He turned off the lights for you as you plopped yourself down on your bed.Before he could fully close the door behind him.His text tone went off.He unlocked his phone to see that the text was from Tom.

Hey,you still around Y/N?

Tuwaine starred oddly at his phone.

Uh no,she’s passed out on her bed and I’m heading to my room.Why?

Okay,good!I got some questions.

You’re questions can wait,I need a shower.

Tuwaine replied as he set his things down in his own room.

DON’T LEAVE ME!! Tom dramatically texted back.Tuwaine shook his head at the text,threw his phone on the bed,and went to the bathroom to start his shower.

About half an hour later,Tuwaine came out of the shower and picked up his phone again.His attention was brought to a notification of a new text from Tom.

Tom: I hate you 😡

Tuwaine simply rolled his eyes,completely used to his friend’s dramatics. Sure you do.And we were literally in the same place like less than an hour ago,why didn’t you ask your qUeSTIonS then?

Tom: Because she was RIGHT THERE!

EXACTLY SO WHY DIDN’T Tuwaine began to write out,then realized what Tom meant by his text.Oooooh THOSE type of questions.Are they something on the lines of is she single?Maybe even her body count? Tuwaine asked,deciding to tease him.

Tom: SHUT TF UP ITS NOT LIKE THAT

Well maybe the first question...

I truly can’t stand you.

Tuwaine: You want the answer to your question or not?

Tom: 😐

Tuwaine: No she’s not seeing anyone 🙄

Tom: ...Set me up a date with her.

At that moment,Tuwaine really wished Tom was in his room with him just so he could see the look of disbelief on his face. Bruv I know you haven’t been on a date in a while,but that is definitely something you do YOURSELF.

Tom: But she makes me hella nervous!

Tuwaine: When did you start using the word hella?You’ve been spending too much time with Zendaya.

Tom: Can’t really help that when she’s,well,my literal love interest.

Tuwaine: Keep that attitude up and I’ll tell Y/N that you shit yourself in your sleep.

Tom: If you tell her that,you’ll have to say goodbye to my fans for me bc I’d literally throw myself off of the nearest building.

Tuwaine: You do that like every day on set,nothing new really.

Tom: I have to go arsehole.Please just send me her number.

Tuwaine: Sure.Don’t die while doing stunts or whatever.

Tom: Love you too Tuwaine 🥰😘❤️❤️😊

Tuwaine couldn’t help but laugh at the text as he put his phone on his charger and finally climbed into bed to rest.

~*~

Yow woke up at around 8:00am to a text from an unknown number.The text read Hey,it’s Tom!I hope you don’t mind that Tuwaine gave me your number.You smiled at the text and mentally noted to thank Tuwaine later. Oh I don’t mind at all 😊 What’s up Tom?Well I guess filming right?😂 You cringed at your reply but it was too late to delete it.You got a reply in less than a minute.

Tom: lol we actually got a lot done last night so I’m free for the day!

You: Oh cool!You got any plans for your day off?

I was actually hoping I could take you out for lunch? Tom surprised himself at his sudden confidence.He thought he’d end up giving you small hints that he wanted to hang out until eventually you were the one to ask.

You: I’d love to!What time were you thinking?

Tom: Can I pick you up for 12:00?

You: 12:00 would be just fine 😌 See you then!

Tom: See you then!

You were over the fucking moon.Tom Holland,one of your biggest celebrity crushes since CA: Civil War, just asked you out on a date.To say you were freaking out was an understatement.The date was literally four hours away,but you jumped up and started looking for an outfit anyway.Once you finally picked up the perfect outfit,with the limited clothes that you brought for your trip,you threw a hoodie over yourself and headed to the lobby,remembering that you were supposed to me Tuwaine for breakfast.

~*~

“So yeah I got a text that was like “Hey,it’s Tom!” and first my dumbass was like “Who the fuck is Tom?” then I read the rest of the text and I it mentioned you and I was like “Ooooh that Tom!” so then I texted him back and was like-“

“I hate to cut you off,” Tuwaine said,finally deciding to interrupt your rant “But it’s too early in the morning for you to be talking at this speed.”

You knew your friend was mostly just joking,but you sheepishly sunk down in your chair and calmed down a bit anyway. “My bad,I’m just really excited.”

“It’s cool,love.So I’m guessing this lead to him asking you out?”

“Yes!I’m saving my appetite because he’s taking me out for lunch!But that’s enough about my potential love life,how’d you sleep?” You asked and slightly leaned over with genuine anticipation.This brought a smile to Tuwaine’s face.

“Glad to see that you remember you came all this way to see me.” He mockingly told you,but you could tell he was genuinely touched.He went on to tell you that it felt like he was sleeping on a huge slab of stone,but he went to sleep anyway because he was too tired.You two had a long chat and before you knew it,it was time for your date.

(A /N: One thing I’m manifesting for myself starting this December 21st is a better sleep schedule.It’s getting late,but I didn’t want to go back on my word so I just cut it short 😅 Part 2 will be up soon though!)

[redhawtriot]

Operation Unvirgin (Bakugou x Reader)

Tip Jar ☕- Not expected but always appreciated💞

I had this idea the other day that Bakugou probably would be super celibate. Like he is very goal oriented and doesn't like to attach himself to others, so I feel like he wouldn't have ever bothered with girls or even beat his meat or anything (the shit’s fucking perverted okay?! how could any decent person touch themselves?)

But he hears that Deku is boutta get laid and he gets pissed bc WHAT? That loser is gonna beat him in something?! So he goes on a mission to loose his virginity before Deku. 

So I wrote the NSFW piece of this and it was UTTER GARBAGE, but I know that many of you guys are writers so think of this as a very informal request: Anyone can write the second half of this and tag me and I will repost it (except no non-con plz). It doesn’t matter how long it is.

If this completely flops I will ... sigh... post my shitty NSFW next week... (But please spare me and yourselves from that outcome) 

HnM💕

Bakugou never could understand all the hype surrounding the opposite sex.

The blond man would wrack his brain as he tried to remember the exact moment where his fellow peers stopped looking at girls like the enemy and started looking at them like walking deities, mindlessly floating behind them as if an invisible scent enchanted their spirits. Sometimes he felt like a lone soldier in sustaining self-respect.

In his isolated state, he only watched in disgust as freaks like Mineta and Kaminari drooled over women and reduced themselves into warm bodied zombies in the presence of a vagina. Pathetic.

He would never in a million years let a woman rule over him. He had seen how his hag of a mother treated his father, and he would rather stick his face in a vat of acid than have his soul belong to someone like that.

His stupid mom always told him that he would probably meet someone in high school that would change his mind, but there he was, the night after graduation, victorious in his pursuit of staying the fuck away from crazy broads like her.

In fact, this ridiculous graduation party that Kirishima had dragged him to was probably the last time he would see most of these extras, since he doubted many of them would make it past being D-listers or side-kicks—and that was him being generous.

The colorful beams of light took turns fading in and out of the dark room as the heavy bass of multiple speakers pounded into his body, sending a flurry of vibrations in his abdomen. Although, Bakugou would never admit this out loud, he actually enjoyed this scenery. The stomping of the music reminded him a lot of his own quirk and the lights weren’t completely hideous.

Yeah, as long as no one at this shitty party tried to talk to him or get on his nerves he would be just fine—

“Baku-brooooo!”

God Dammit.

“Hey, dude!” Kaminari threw a sloppy arm over the angrier blond’s shoulders as Kirshima, Deku and Mina all followed behind him through the dense party crowd. Now, if this had been two years ago, Kaminari just might have found himself short an appendage through an explosive altercation; however, throughout his high school career, Bakugou found that simply ignoring the idiots was usually enough to deter them from trying to converse with him.

So Bakugou swallowed the increasing rage that was bubbling in his throat and simply scoffed instead, swatting the man’s arm away from him and turning his back on him and his incoming entourage. Kaminari only laughed in response, “C’mon bro we are officially graduates! Ditch the bad boy act and loosen up a little—we are men now! Just ask Midoriya!” he slyly suggested.

The sound of his rival’s name piqued his interest, yet the stubborn man still refused to give the short-circuited idiot the satisfaction of knowing such a thing, so he continued to glare away from him as Izuku spoke up, “N-no it’s nothing really… Uraraka and I have just been together for a while. Honestly, I don’t even know if I will go for it. I don’t wanna be a jerk or anything bringing it up to her! Forget I said anything at all, actually!” the young man frantically waved his hands as his face became obviously red even in the dimly lit atmosphere.

Mina snickered as her hands found their way to her hips “The shy guy act is cute and all Midoriya, but every girl wants confidence in bed! I am sure she wouldn’t mind if the two of you at least talked about it,” she bumped the green haired boy with her hips as Bakugo furrowed his eyebrows even deeper.

Kirishima was the next to speak up “GO for it, man! There worst that can happen is that she’ll say no!” he heavily patted the concerned Izuku’s back, “But the manliest thing for you to do is respect her boundaries,” he quickly added in.

The green haired man shook his head at the ground, “I should have just kept my big mouth shut...”

“She won’t say no,” Mina sang with a mischievous expression drawn across her face.

The three boys turned their attention to her with confused glances before Kaminari spoke up, “C’mon Mina! You know something don’t you? Spill it!” he begged.

Mina looked as if she were contemplating for only a moment before he gestured for the men to come closer, “Don’t tell her I told you, but…” she trailed off for dramatic effect, “She was totally gonna try to seduce you tonight, Midoriya!!” She winked. Bakugou’s ears perked up at this statement,

“WhAT?” both him and Izuku cried out.

Kaminari and Kirishima laughed at the blond’s outburst, “So you were listening after all, huh Bakugou?” the latter questioned.

“What do you think of the situation, buddy?” Kaminari leaned into the explosive man with a smirk.

“I’m not your damn buddy,” Bakugou bumped the electrical dumbass away from him, “I think you idiot perverts need to stop worrying about whose panties you’re gonna fail getting into and worry about not being able to keep food on your fucking plates when your careers flop!” he barked as the four blinked in surprise at his sudden outburst.

Kaminari saw this as the perfect opportunity to mess with him, “Bakugou are you… a virgin?” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“MIND YOUR OWN DAMN BUSINESS, PIKACHU,” the man under interrogation screeched.

“He totally is!” Kaminari threw his hands up in feign shock, causing Mina to giggle.

Izuku awkwardly shifted on the balls of his feet as Kiri loudly spoke up, “Hey guys, it’s not manly to butt into another man’s personal life like that.”

Bakugou ignored his defender and continued screaming at dumb and dumber through the loud music, “S-Shut the hell up!” his face was dusted in a light shade of red as he spoke. He tried to shake these foreign feelings of embarrassment away. So fucking what if he was a virgin?

“Deku still ain’t shit! Who fucking cares if he’s gonna get his dick dirty?! I could fuck any of these bimbos!” he loudly called out, causing a few girls crowding the area to throw him wary glances before they cautiously moved away. The group of friends noticed this and Kamari and Mina failed miserably at stifling their laughs at the scene.

“It’s ‘make love to’, dude…” Kirishima quietly correct his angry friend in a feeble attempt to save his future endeavors with women.

“NO. FUCK! I said what I meant dammit!” he yelled as he once again fought away the redness on his face, “I could fuck any one of these bitches within an inch of their life!” he furiously vowed.

“Any, huh?” Mina questioned with a raised eyebrow.

“That’s what I fucking said, Raccoon eyes!”

“Then how about…” the yellow irises scanned the dense room for a moment before a smile split her face. She happily pointed a finger, “that one!”

Bakugou followed her finger through the crowd and found you on the other side of the room. The fading lights intermittently illuminated your features, but he knew exactly who you were— Y/N L/N.  The only other person at U.A. known for being just as proud as himself if not more. Also known for having a slough of men on your heels at any given moment, but not giving a single one of them any significant time of day.

Mina snickered at Bakugou’s sudden silence, causing him to throw a glare at her. He fought of any creeping feeling of disheartened as he began a march toward your dancing figure, “Fucking easy” he roughly hyped himself up before approaching you.

“Hey,” he barked roughly. It didn’t really come off as much of a greeting and had more of a threatening tone to it, but in your shocked state you could only offer a half-hearted smile at the daunting man before returning to the conversation that you were having with your friends.

However, after a while, you noticed that your friends were distracted as their scared eyes kept darting behind you. He was still there wasn’t he?

You rolled your eyes before throwing a glare in his direction, “Do you fucking want something, dickhead?” you snapped.

“I SHOULD—” he began to threaten but he clamped his mouth shut and bottled up his feelings of rage from being disrespected before he continued, “You…” he barked, an unfamiliar feeling of uncertainty gripping at his chest, “I want you,” he said sternly. He had heard Kaminari say some stupid shit like this before and it worked. If it worked for an idiot like him then surely—

Bakugou’s thoughts were cut off as you simply threw your head back in a fit of laughter before turning your back to him to converse with your friends again, “Anyway,” you loudly began before beginning to talk to you friends again.

Bakugou’s face contorted in aghast uncertainty before he looked back to his classmates. Kaminari was giving him a thumbs down, Mina was giggling like crazy, Kirishima was beaming him a reassuring smile and Deku was no where to be found. Fuck! he probably went off to find Uraraka!

The thought set a competitive fire in his chest as he looked back toward you, “Let’s--“ he stopped himself to re-frame his approach. He thought of the words of encouragement that shitty hair might give him in this moment,

‘Treat her like a queen!’ ‘Ladies love a man with a code! Don’t tell her what to do, ask her!’

“Do... you want to dance,” he forced himself to ask through slightly gritted teeth. This was utterly humiliating.

“You think you can handle it?” you joked through a small smirk before eyeing him up and down. The man only averted his glare from you in response as he scowled at a nearby wall. You gave a small laugh at the display. It was almost childish how he was acting.

You suddenly noticed the red tint that was adorning his cheeks, sending a wave of excitement throughout your body. A sudden predacious urge clutched your abdomen at the sight.

“Okay,” you smiled after wetting your lips. You leaned into him before grabbing his forearm and leading him deep into the hot pool of dancing bodies. He stiffly followed after you.

If he thinks he can handle it then you’ll just have to show him how wrong he is...

[mkstrigidae]

Okay so I'm making my way through your masterlist and I'm in love?? Like let's start off with Winter's Child- a masterpiece. You make Sansa a loving and relatable character and interweave the powers into cannon in a way that actually makes cannon make more sense (preconceived biases and such). Jon and Sansa's relationship is SO SWEET and they way they bonded was absolutely adorable (and the backstory with the houses and the powers they have make so much sense) 1/3

(2/3) Neon Rain literally the best Cyberpunk AU! I've ever read. Like what you did with the world building?? The stark class differences (haha see what I did there?), the choices in SOUND, and I could FEEL myself there! I love the family dynamics between the Starks and I'm loving the little details you're dropping with the Greyjoy's , Jon's parentage, and all of the medical procedures. Jon is dramatic af and I love it and Sansa is a bamf AS SHE SHOULD. Nothing but love for this

(3/3) A Past Worth Having has a special place in my heart. You build up this setting like a tapestry, just seeing more richness and depth the longer you look. I'm proud of Sansa for holding her composure, just FEELING in the angst that the older Starks feel at her return, and loving the relationships with Robin and the rest of the Starks + Jon Arryn. The detail that you're putting into the investigation/Oberyn is awe inspiring and I can't wait to see what you do next with the trial + Jonsa

Haha thank you so much!!! This is such a sweet ask to get! My response is under a cut, because this might get kind of long! (lots of my own meta below, bc i accidentally had a lot to say, haha)

With ‘Winter’s Child’ I’ve really enjoyed weaving in fantasy elements to the world because I like to look at stories and pick at loose threads until they unravel and asking ‘what if?’. I thought it would be a super interesting concept to take a character like Sansa, who in ASOIAF is exactly what she is supposed to be as a noblewoman of her class and conforms very well in that role, and put her in a position where she was essentially a societal outcast in a lot of ways! In WC, Sansa has a lot of similar coping mechanisms to ASOIAF Sansa, in that she sort of romanticizes society to avoid thinking about how absolutely awful it is. In ASOIAF, Sansa holds tight to the notion of knights and chivalry and courtly love to cope with the fact that she essentially has no control over her future and, as a woman, is basically property. In WC, I have her really struggling to make herself into that perfect lady and using that as a sort of shield to the fact that, without a gift, there isn’t anything she can do to improve her lot in life. Sansa has these ideas about becoming a perfect lady and hoping that being perfect in other areas will ‘make up’ for what society perceives as deficient about her, but is more jaded than ASOIAF Sansa due to her age and her earlier exposure to the ills of society. So you get a Sansa who gets along better with Arya and Jon as a result, in part because she’s had that exposure to what it’s like to be an outcast in society. I think that the best fantasy has a really strong emotional backdrop (a really great example is ‘Fruits Basket’ which starts by hooking you with this wacky, fun premise about people in a family turning into animals when hugged by a member of the opposite sex, and slowly builds into a point where you can see that the family ‘curse’ is a representation of generational and familial abuse- of bonds that should be broken, and of bonds that may kill us even as we cling to them- it’s extremely complex and rich and if you haven’t read or watched it, I can’t recommend it highly enough), and so while I really love writing about the fantasy aspects, and writing scenes where Sansa does really cool things with her ice powers, the core of the story is really about Sansa coming into her own, and learning that she was a person who was worth something even without any sort of gift. Sort of overcoming societal stigma and realizing your worth and forcing others to see it. It’s so much fun to write, but i’m stuck at the moment, because i need to reread the books, and my roommate is borrowing them right now haha!

God, APWH is like, indulging my inner world-building suspense-narrative loving writer persona. It’s literally my all time favorite trope- which is of someone growing up to find out that they’re a long-lost somebody or have family they never knew about- combined with a lot of research on trauma (which i’ve been doing for academic and other reasons for a while) and a lot of slowly growing psychological horror courtesy of Petyr Baelish (trust me, it’s going to get WAY more intense). There are so many pieces of media that I love, but I think that GRRM has so many characters and such a well fleshed out world that it’s very fun to dive into his worlds and create something there. Inherently, I love a slowly unraveling mystery and morally gray characters, and this is allowing me to indulge in both!!! World-building is my favorite, because i tend to be fairly detail oriented, and i’ve been laying bread crumbs in so many places throughout the story to hopefully build up to a decent conclusion! I know sort of how it ends, and I think people are going to absolutely lose their minds if I execute it correctly. We have a few chapters to go until we get to anything in the semblance of a trial- there’s some more emotional aspects that I think need to get addressed first, and so I’m so grateful that people are so supportive of being willing to wait for the Jonsa, because they really start spending a lot of time with each other during the trial and prior to the trial (i’m a big believer in bonding via long car rides and so there’s a lot of that!). I’m just so humbled and awed by the response to it- I never dreamed that people would enjoy the story this much- when I started it, I was writing a light-hearted family piece that wouldn’t be too long, and, uh, it kind of evolved from there. Clearly, I am not good at keeping things concise haha.

I left Neon Rain for last, because your comments on this one really made me smile! Of all of my stories, oddly enough, Neon Rain is actually the most deeply personal for me, and I’m just so flattered at your kind words! I spend a lot of my time thinking about the flaws inherent in our society, and without getting too detailed, Sansa’s experience with a family member struggling in the medical system is not unfamiliar to me. There’s a weight that comes with the realization that a system that is supposed to care for people is based on capitalistic ideals of profit maximization, and as someone who has experience working in the healthcare system- no matter how bad you think it is in the US, I can promise you it’s actually worse.

Neon Rain actually just started out as a series of mental images from listening to music that I had to get down on paper, and evolved from there. I actually really love the ‘soulmates’ and ‘class differences’ and ‘mastermind art thief’ tropes, but am incapable of writing fun stories without thinking about the reality of those tropes (see APWH for another extreme example of this haha), and so as I was writing and trying to capture this mental image, the rest of the world began unfolding around me. Jon is different because of a different upbringing here, and so is Sansa, and to see the formerly idealistic Sansa become so jaded by the time she meets her soulmate is just catnip for me. You have this interesting dynamic between them, because Jon wants nothing more than to have Sansa in his life, and give her everything she wants and needs, but where the old Sansa (who was arguably middle-class and somewhat naive, as financially secure teenagers understandably tend to be) would have swooned over that, the Sansa who meets Jon when the story begins is seeing the world and all the unfair and unequal systems in it. She can’t just live happily ever after with him right away- there’s a sense of guilt there, of sansa not feeling like she deserves nice things, and there’s also Sansa’s deep sense of compassion and kindness that won’t allow her to just live life as the well taken-care-of girlfriend of a wealthy man, because she isn’t able to just put on blinders and pretend that all the injustice in the world around her doesn’t exist, simply because it wouldn’t affect her that way anymore.

I think that the core to writing Sansa, for me, in any universe, is that she is a kind and compassionate person who is capable of feeling sympathy towards even the people who have done horrific things to her and her family- that emotional awareness and empathy is a harsh thing to have in a world like Neon Rain, and in our own world, honestly. I’m so glad that you appreciate Sansa’s BAMF-ness in the story- I think that her chapters demonstrate that she is capable of doing extraordinary things when she’s doing them for people she cares for, to be kind (The scene where Alayne helps Robin down from the eyrie is most indicative of this I think), and so in this world, I just love having Sansa be a complete badass out of necessity. Also, it’s fanfiction, and I really wanted to give Sansa a cool motorcyle, because no one else was gonna do it!!!

Also, my characters like to run away with me, and before I knew it, Rodrik Greyjoy had a huge adorable crush on Sansa in the story that I immensely enjoy writing. The Greyjoys are fun because they’re all absolutely insane, and i’m a total sucker for ‘gruff dangerous character is completely a sucker for the kind sunshine-y character’ trope.

God, this accidentally got really long??? I’m sorry- thank you so much for such a kind ask!!! I love hearing what people think of my stories, and this was so sweet :)

[misterbitches]

I ship muren and li cheng bc i only saw it through gifs then i watched this episode cos i was like im only starting this show if they kiss im waiting and they did and it was nice and i got so anxious that i was about to fucking vomit. I really like them together. The top/bottom shit is dumb and i hope if they must mention it they all build a bridge and get over it so they can switch cos who gives a shit. I didnt realize how large they all are like most “tall” men on tv are lying. But bc that kid is so thin and tall and the other one (idk the stepbrother) is huge too. Li cheng is shorter than them both but more ~manly~ but still short so why doesnt he take a DICK UP HIS BUTT XD since that’s all that fucking matters and there’s only 2 genders and 2 eays to have sex lmao so nothing else otherwise ur screwed

Hd a terrible past couple of weeks personally and because i keep seeing my peopl eget murdered and things ripped from us ^_____^ anyway here’s Some libertatrian communist dumb bitch discoars so i’ll tag it:

keep in mind these are my opinions’”” when i engage in discourse. I am not the end all be all and I don’t need you to agree. There’s some shit I am non-negotiable on but thsi is just exchanging of information. Any authoratative tone I take on comes from my beliefs, my life, my experiences, and what I choose to cultivate as a person and an artist. I dont have control over your feelings, you do. If it hurts you then either tell me the issue and be PRECISE about it, understand that context matters which is why i type so much in engagement, and do not fucking lie or misconstrue my words. Do not call me western ever in your life either. I am a black-american. I have adhd and bc i am a black woman if ur automatically thinking im brolic i am accepting money in my paypal for ur wellbeing to get me to shut the fuck up.Thanks.

The stepbrothers storyline is stupid and lazy writing. I really want to counter people that say it’s written well and that it’s interesting because it isn’t. Even if it was illicit and fucked we can write a story out about this. Let’s rethink what they could have done shall we:

- become stepbrothers at about 16 and their parents mismanage the relationship and they fail in trying to get an integrated family together (this is what happened in the #iconic transit girls and that was fuckin’ weird but hey dude guess what we watched it and it was weird but not unethical and we know one is like 19 and the other is 21 and a girl so it’s like wow you avoided so much and handled their stepsister story very…….um lightly given the end lmao but it was there and people had AGENCY)

-OR you realize that freak is obsessed with him and then he realizes it and is like “bitch i swear to god” and in typical shtity trope BL fashion they can find a way from obsession, to loss and independence when you lose your obsession, to “love” if they choose

- have the fucked up shit but make it clear what the issues are and you literally cannot write your way out of it so do not try

But why can’t fucked up things be shown? Also this is realistic.

0. Well according to you but no one said that they can’t. So that’s on your interpretation of critique (that is, again, not bullying or harassment.) They can, i just gave plenty of scenarios in which it is affective and not just annoying to witness, trope-y, and frankly ridiculous and offensive. Sorry! They don’t do it well. You can come up with alternatives too. See #2 btw.

1. No it isn’t doing a good job of reflecting life because life has consequences. The exaggeration in drama doesn’t mean the arc shouldn’t be there. Almost always things that aren’t heavy with the message or meant to be sobering in a deep way are COMPELLING. The realism is the basis for art because we are human. This is not the way real humans act.

Someone said Tharn Type was mature and I had to laugh because no, no one acts that way and is “in love” if they act that way that means they fucking hate each other and they’re immature and frankly it’s just not that interesting for many of us to watch because the dramatization of the “realism” is fucking bonkers. That was such poor writing it is unbelievable and someone has the audacityt o say it’s how real adults act. Fucking murder me if I’m with someone for 7 years and we break up over a miscommunication and for some reason I am not as horny as my always horny boyfriend. The fuck? What kind of lives do you lead? Either you are not an adult or you are an adult who needs therapy.

I also hear the “realistic” argument but then people try and temper it with “but also it’s fiction.” What do you think fiction is? Why do you think filmmaking exists? Number one, it’s propaganda in the sense that you want others to buy into your presentation and see what you see. That means that the creators are telling people and influencing them WITH ART BECAUSE THAT’S WHAT IT IS about their feelings around a situation. That’s why it is imperative to be responsible as a filmmaker and artist and underline the deepness of creepiness if that’s what they want. If they want to relay that rape sometimes ok and psychos are crazy so they get boy (??!?!?!? BITCH?) then they achieved it with no innovative information. We know people get raped bc we are human beings and many of us live with that fear. You know, being the target demo and all. And bc BL loves that trope it’s rape fantasy peddled to young people and women. Just like shitty wattpad fics or NYT best sellers. Hooray, what now? Or are you trying to purport that this isn’t glorified fanfiction? Which it literally is

2. This is the issue with these shows. No one is saying that fucked up shit cannot be shown. There’s a film about a woman who is raped and she falls in love with her rapist (because he was masked but i think we find out later that she knows. Binoche is in it.) I have no desire for that film—i think it’s by a man and i extra dont care—but I hear it’s sort of powerful for many. I heard it was a good film. But the act itself is always eschewed and the conflict comes from how fucking ridiculous it is especially finding out that she knows. The power imbalance adn the possibility. They may not have handled it in a way I would have cared for but it was there.

There’s simply no imagination because these people do not care that much and aren’t great writers and filmmakers because they simply do not have to be. Sorry.

The industry doesn’t rely on the best they rely on efficiency (this is everywhere.) You can tell by the camera angles, the editing, the camera itself (idk if it is multicam but the flatness is typical soap flatness without the glowboxes to soften their faces.) Simple constant lighting. Now the surroundings are mostly beautiful. But even to some of the costumes. And those edits are abysmal, some of that camera work.

So with all that said even with the couple I extremely enjoy I see its (H4) faults. Add into that a lazily thrown together “shocking” love and if they are trying to get us to feel a type of way about its sexiness they fail. This is why movies like 50sog, 365 days, etc aren’t enjoyable to people because it’s fucking strange situations that they dont want to entangle or make enjoyable to viewers across the board. They know what people will take. It’s just that bitch what are we here for if even the sexiness isn’t there for ur stupid story.

At least with that teenager and 30 yr old man in MODC (which i do not love but i like them in theory if it wasnt totally repulsive to me and also if it was developed in a way that was good TO ME) they had their, er, “sex appeal” i talk about this as well the main couple in MODC to me, visually, was a miss. Not bc whatshisface was small and stuff but bc he was so sickly and they needed that to propel the story but it was just not appealing given how the story progressed. A missed opportunity in tying the two together besides making him look waif-y and sickly only to have the “did ur mom die in a car crash? No, cancer” type of move in not another teen movie. But the opposite. And not funny. Wayne tho????? GORL. Eggs. Cracked.

fandoms have a very warped sense of harrassment and discourse.

Most fandoms have harassers who are “protecting” the cast and crew who don’t need their protection (or maybe the crew does since they probably dont get paid well but why the fuck would anyone care about that lol) but very few have the people who have concerns or massive critique about the show are not going to be “bullying.”

If people are saying “if you like xyz, u suck” then sure it may suck for you to see but who fucking cares. Either talk to the person or don’t be friends with them. That is not bullying or harrassment. Things that are shitty get criticized. Fuck, things that aren’t shitty don’t. Get away from this idea of cancel culture and people misunderstanding the story. We have the ability to.

Think beyond your noses of personal preference. You don’t have to convince people of what you believe. Discussing it is good but critique is not bullying, harrassment, or hate. Neither is fucking roasting shit because even this shit I like (manner of death lets say) deserves it. Art is meant to be critiqued and if you dont fucking like the bullshit people make then say it. They know stupid stories like this are scandalous and they don’t give a shit in how to present them.

And guess what? You won’t like everybody. Many people can’t stand me i’m sure. Oh well. I mean frankly I don’t like that and I feel very unsettled when I don’t feel understood. That’s ok! I have to temper it. Sometimes calm myself down. I won’t get anything and everything I want. And you won’t like every opinion and sometimes it’s like “man am i a dummy?” But the part of growing up is fucking maanging that and beng honest about “bashing and harrassment” and “bullying” and growing up. Yuo can like what you want the “let people like what they want thing” is so fucking juvenile and THAT is not the real world. Which is probably why so many people feel that way, they dont want to live in the real world. Unfortunately, you do.

Think beyond our noses of personal preference and what we feel emotionally in conjunction with others. You don’t have to convince people of what you believe. And you can say things that you believe to be true but it doesn’t make them so or maybe it isn’t received that way to people. And many times we learn new things in the discussions “oh shit i didn’t see it that way” right? Discussing it is good but critique is not bullying, harrassment, or hate. Neither is fucking roasting shit because even this shit I like (manner of death lets say) deserves it. Art is meant to be critiqued and if you dont fucking like the bullshit people make then say it. They know stupid stories like this are scandalous and they don’t give a shit in how to present them. Usually the “opposition” in these situations aren’t the popular beliefs that permeate through society. Trust me lmao

Antiblackness

Antiblackness is a thing. It permeates everywhere. It permeates in this genre and it permeates in fandom. Get it the fuck together. Also do not conflate cultural relativism with being repsectful. They are not barbarians, they are smart human beings either making work or deciding to. We all have diff cultures but we have fucking sense in what is respectful and not. And if we don’t we fucking learn. You cannot excuse things and say “oh culture” when you have 0 idea of that culture or actual people who are radical etc and are fighting against it. Additionally the word westerner is an ignorant term when referring to people in the US or UK who are black. Because we are not. We extend sympathy to other groups and empathy since we know so there is no inherent power imbalance between a black viewer and their subject. Don’t suggest that because it’s wrong and ahistorical and contextless.

FIRST the fallacy of representation as freedom makes people fucking complacent, individualistic, and doesn’t let them think critically. Consumption and discourse around consumption is not helping material conditions of the marginalized communities in your home, the black ones who are ignored, those intersectionalized in these communities. Groups talk about art and what it means for them outside of just what we see and because we also don’t have access to a bunch of Thai reviews or what movements or going on we are less likely to know if we don’t FUCKING SEARCH for it. Because art is constant...which leads me to....

Representation is difficult. It matters and it doesn’t.

Tthese shows are not meant to overturn the LGBTQ+ community.

There are queer filmmakers and artists in these countries. Deep illustrious film careers or even TV that is moving and deliberate. We can even see it with the dude from “your name engraved” in their short series he was in beforehand. BL is no wa pejorative because it is simply not “qu**r” storytelling whatever that means. But know it has always existed everywhere and there are also out artists or radical artists in all these countries who do no respect mediums that are cash-grabs and poorly made.

ex: As much as “Like in the Movies” sort of isnt for me and is a bit hamfisted you can tell how much love goes into that. Love of the characters, acting, and message. Yes it’s cringey to see some of the lines (like very tbh subtlety wasnt exactly their strong suit) and yea naming them after lenin and marx is just 0ihgoaudgijposkagjihou BUT GUESS WHAT? THEY FUCKING DID IT. THEY TRIED. And class was a large component as well bc u cant fuckin ignore it. The show is aware of the machinations in its world as a show but also in the philippines and for a fuckin reason. And duatarte? Loooooooool so like yea not so sure bl makes him love his ppl but the show isnt trying to do that

It’s not a transgressive genre and it has no reason to be. No ethical anything under the way we live it’s just trying your fucking best to be. That’s it. They serve societal ills and capital’s purposes. Which is fine but it is not revolutionary.

These countries in SEA or even SA do not have as big budget for even mainstream dramas—though things are changing and that’s bc REVENUE like revenue from kpop is fucking huge for SK and again so much about that is bc of what happened in their history from japanese imperialism to WWII to the US—so for “queer” stuff it is sort of now important to make that an export and it sure is one. Not only globally or to the west but a lot of these places make their money within asia (duh!) outside of their countries. OBVIOUSLY. so BL is a way to output and gain money. The thing is, it doesnt seem to be put back into the industry at all. For people in all these countries to make works that aren’t for mainstream or wont reach as many people there’s a difference between trying and just shoving shit in your face and going here it’s gay you like it right? But dont antagonize the inherent patriarchal nature of BL.

Another thing: did you guys know thailand was never colonized? You should look it up. There’s little hints of things in ITSAY to represent french influence still. Isnt that fascinating? Find out why. It’s certainly interesting that the representation, though damaging and dubious many times and also incorrect like any media, is huge in asia and this isnt a commodity here (the US) exactly. A lot of that has to do with colonial ideas of gender of which I am sure. But listen………lmao

Sometimes people dont give a shit. And it very much shows. Here is the thing once again. GOOD TRANSGRESSIVE WORK exists.

Een within the capitalist Bs paradigm or you can see people trying (I can sort of applaud parts of lovely writer) also queer media has always existed everywhere the reason you don��t know about it is because it gets takena nd commodified into a mainstream product. We hvae little incentive, particularly if we are not fans of cinema or art in gen, to search fror others when the output is right here. Being dictated by others and the state and who will give you money. No longer an effort of a cast and crew who want to convey things. But google [any country] independent cinema, radical cinema, queer radical cinema, or even retrospectives on the cinema and rethinking what is queer and radical in film. What if we took that, diluted it, got rid of the creators who put themselves through all the work, ignroe al the nuances and do……………….two actors who are conventionally attractive with no chemistry making out.

It’s the same here lets say daniel kaluuya winning the oscar for the film about the BPP. I heard it was okay and not too offensive but it still isnt’ enough. It still isn’t like hwood isn’t trash, nnati black, misogynistic towards BW and women, and all that other shit. It was pushy but it can’t be enough where we are. Black KKKlansmen i think won an oscar, by circumstance i fuckin hate these award shows they mean nothing, and i like the film a lot but he has his misogynoir still resting in his films even if it is poignant. And it was a film that honestly wasn’t really made for black people. And should all art be a response to direct trauma or trying to make ourselves palatable when we’re just human?

$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$ and it’s importance (capitalism) but also sorta individual responsibility

Considering a lot of these actors are rich and then just dip that’s another problem. Mainstream isn’t what sustains marginalized art ever. It doesn’t change in the vast ways we think it does. What changes is the people of these groups pushing, fighting, forcing and then capitalism trying to make it work under capitalism. It will not. It cannot.

This is why artists and labels often don’t mix or you see people like Sonic Youth doing whatever they want and pissing off their label but making them give them money. Same with Nirvana. Vince Staples. The thing is they can fight and make good shit but what capitalism helps people….not care? They don’t respect the audience? We’re getting those returns on poor executed product placement, lighting, editing, framing, fucking acting. And you surewon’t see mixed black asians in these shows. WHY R U is the oNLY one i have seen it in and he just disappears (but that was pretty cool.) so who the fuck is this representing? And before you start: asian countries are not homogenous the way we believe them to be. There are marginalized communities outside of even mixed people that are harmed. So you can skrrt cause on that one: you’re wrong buddy. But it gives us the IDEA of a paradise which is what they NEED.With representation and visibility comes consequence and responsibility as artists. What it allows them to do is coast and not think complexly because why should they; it’s mostly the fantasies of some older woman who probably has money and much less interaction with the world. It’s bonkers. And what that allows even further is for them to say YOU ARE THE THING THAT YOU CONSUME and the THING THAT YOU CONSUME IS YOURS. It is not, it is not your identity, form a close bond but figure it the fuck out. Especially for adults who are hellbent on twisting their minds into pretzels and can’t acknowledge what’s just laziness in art and not giving a fucking shit. Truly.

There’s damage that has been done from Parasite as he was supported by CJE&M and the bullshit obsession america had and eveyrone’s poor interpretation of it if they are rich. BJH is a socialist and he is a filmmaker. He has made films that are outstanding and cost a lot of money. But now a fear for indie filmmakers is just not being able to raise that much or have that much attention. Getting funding that helps them instead of expecting the Next Big Thing that is a fad because capitalism is trash. Yes this funneling of money is absolutely harmful to us artists. Even buying in is strategic. Additionally, that film is probs one of the most radical films to have that wide release and accolade (unlike “Sorry to Bother You” which i have a lot of thoughts about. One being that asian exports are acceptable but black ones are not. This is an overall art critique and global media critique. Blackness is removed, not respected.) However, filmmaking isn’t green, it can’t be socialist, and it’s a lot of work. They used tons and tons and TONS of water to do a huge beautiful feat but we still know there is a cost. We have to figure that out because it shouldn’t be. It doesn’t go back into the crew’s pockets the way it should and the work becomes that of the director’s and actors solely. It’s fucking hard. We have to do our part but it doesn’t mean we are doing it perfectly. We just have to try to do better. So does BJH cos he needs to not be a misogynist but anyways i digress.

additionally and this is something some users fail to understand: people in the media sphere generally have fucking money. I went to film school that was international with super fucking rich kids. Taiwanese kids, kids from south asia, china, thailand. They had money. No not upper middle class money, not “rich” money, not some paltry 1m that’s chump change. Fucking money. Fucking RICH-RICH. MILLIONAIRES. BILLIONAIRES. WHICH IS DISGUSTING MIGHT I ADD. The domestic people didn’t have the money for school (in the UK) and i am in a massive amount of debt like every other black student that went there. You do not understand how much money is needed to survive so people who turn to these crew positions even casting etc need this fucking money usually. OKAY. A lot of the people that do well in these dumb shows or even on a larger scale HAVE MONEY. The reason these industries are small and struggling is because of lack of people and lack of resources to independent shit because oh gee it takes money to make things.

Why should I try? Well you don’t have to really if you have money or a name. Yet...

We can tell when like those Tik Tok shows or DCOMs dont give a shit (anymore.) You know how frustrated we get when content for young people is garbage? Well, see, BL is literally that under that system. Occasionally we will get something good now but there is virtually no need in any sector in the world at this point to truly figure out how to make it better and what to do to enhance artistic literacy, outreach, teaching people new things, getting people from these communities there and having true realistic says. Art and culture is IMPERATIVE TO WORLD LIBERATION but not when it is so stiffly trying to bend to capital’s idea of progressiveness. No. Neoliberalism. No.

That’s why in a way ITSAY is a huge feat; it takes from films etc and they clearly had money (the actors rae rich too which….lmaooooo j’aime pas) but it was a respected fucking script, acting was important, blocking, framing. There’s very little to critique as a visual medium for that because I understand what they are trying to do, their market is going to be mostly young girls, but they RESPECT THE FUCKING AUDIENCE. And guess what guys? You can make money from it!!!! WOAH! Since that may be the only goal which is disgusting and repulsive.

HOWEVER AND THIS IS WHAT IS SAD: itsay is an ex of a great show however knowing the actors backgrounds and the pseudo trouble it stirred when they weren’t supporting people protesting against the coup in the summer it really put a damper on my enjoyment. And this is how we can see that:

a) it’s honestly just a show and a good one but b) now what?

These kids (actors, who are like idk 19? 20?) are rich and not saying anything while countless actors, who were filming, did. Even tul who has $$$$ and the thing is the protesting against the coup legitimately attacks the rich. As it should. The protests going on were cries for help, against a dictatorship and fucking coup, asking people to get fucking help for covid, having kids be able to live. There’s a mini on VICE about this and it probably doesnt go too in depth but there’s a kid in there who talks about his friends getting into drugs and how he just wants to make music, have fun, skateboard. And it’s harrowing to see. This is a direct example of what these things do and don’t do. Yea we know a good show is here, we know growing up and slice of life, we know this is a bit of escapism and idealism but the idealism is reflected in the way these actors also choose to live their lives. So what progress? To who? For who? How is this helping me? What purpose does it serve? I say ITSAY serves its purpose as a piece and a glimpse into possibility of growing up but i do not say it antagonizes a broader issue that needs to be relevant in some sense but simply is not. It’s very singleminded and, well, it’s sort of like “besides my sexuality, what do i have to worry about?” But for real humans like....a lot. I do not respect their decision at all.

Why can’t we do our jobs and make something decent and respect our audience? No time, gotta make that sweet sweet sweet cash baybee. Look how progressive we are! Don’t look at history and material conditions. Thanks in advance, management.

History 4 does not have that respect. Many of these shows do not. Sometimes we hit good, sometimes we don’t. But in the end we cannot settle. And I won’t. If I am critiquing something I will not be shy and if I am meant to enjoy something as escapism then these shows NEED to highlight that and it’s rare sometimes (the best twins is a good reminder like that show is bad but man do i Brain Empty when i turn it on and i like that and there’s not much in it that makes me want to kill myself from annoyance but there are transphobic jokes i dont love however the whole show is a comedy about this dude’s crazy homophobic sister and she is constantly positioned as wrong and they talk about the aforementioned trans women as the actor was in drag. Interesting that they can manage that, huh?)

Oh btw.....taiwan has a very complicated history but ignore all the bad stuff it’s good now you can kinda sorta get married and stuff. KMT? You know how i learned that? I care about human beings and read about it lmao. I am not Taiwanese and look at that. So now I have historical and DIALECTICAL~**~*~****~*~*~ context so i can judge it as an artist, a black woman from america, and from the knowledge i have to pick up on their history to see if this fits into a broader picture besides the micro-one of sexuality on an individualized level. And this is kinda where it comes full circle: these shows are not you, you are not them, they do not exist in a vacuum because nothing does. The failure to critique now means continuing on as it has and it will still do so. History and time are not linear in the sense we think it is. Someitmes things are better, sometimes things feel more austere. We are not living under liberation though and these shows are not going to do so. So they are not US nor are they for a nebulous “us” of which the groups are all fractured and have diff opinions anyway (my opinion as a black american is going to vary from an asian woman’s say and that could really clash and i do not feel solidarity with all those in every community i am for several reasons.)

Final thots that have taken up my time and the only thing i actually wanted to write but got distracted:

Anyway my dissertation is that I ilke Muren and LiCheng a lot a lot and i like how cute they are and how truly dumb li cheng is. This is an example of mostly good writing, decent actors, nice chemistry, and sort of a calmness to them. And I super enjoy how Muren is pretty forward with LC in the sense that being together is like very important to truly be together. When he was like “no i didnt forget!” Or when LC asked him something in the office I forget it was 6 am and again i almost threw up and muren nodded and then LC leaned on him. Very cute. I want more of them tho i may have to skip that othre couple (the cameo the ones from MODC) but omfg the younger one HIS HAIR GREW SO MUCH HE LOOKS SO MATURE AND CUTE OMFGIJ0HUG9SAOGIJPKOAGJSIOHUAGIJP hahhaha the one good thing i will say about THEM.idk how old the actor is i figure he was young idk it makes me happy to see him he’s very cute. I hope he’s in something i can watch and not gag at. Is he hot? Who knows but he is a cutie!!

Anyway muren and lc have a good thing going it’s nice to watch ho\pe they dont fuck it up but im truly a sucker for some true finds 2 luvas i think some user on her\e was like i’m not a fan of friends ot lovers bc it doesn’t seem like they’re actually friends and maybe they were referring to this show idk. But it made me think and it was a very good observation. So i think they are friends and also luvrs <3