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#because it is a real thing that happens to people
autolenaphilia · 3 days
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I don’t care about accusations of ”pedophilia.” I will not give a fuck, I won't investigate your claims, I will just ignore it.
For one thing the accusation of pedophilia is often entirely meaningless. This is because pedophile/pedo etc are words that carry the taint of child rape, of calling up the disgust such an act naturally produces, but are accusations that don’t require such an act or a victim of it. If you call someone a “child rapist” that has weight, but you also have to back it up with a victim this person supposedly raped for the accusation to actually be meaningful. But words like “pedophile” carries no such demands, it literally just means “someone who has an attraction to children.” It doesn’t require an actual victim. It’s an accusation about how someone feels in their head and can thus be liberally applied. Someone criticizes your asinine submarine idea to rescue some children in a cave? Call them a pedo. And even words that once had a more specific meaning, such as “grooming” can be stretched beyond all meaning to mean whatever it wants to. Someone talked to under-18 people about sex and gender in a way you don’t want to? Call them a groomer.
In a culture of pedohysteria, pedojacketing is easy. And it’s especially easy to weaponize it against queer people, the idea that queerness spreads through queers recruiting children by molesting them is one of the oldest queerphobic narrativeness out there. I’m using “queer” here because this is a narrative used both against gay and trans people. But in the present transphobic/transmisogynistic backlash it’s most often used against trans people, especially transfems, as transmasc people are more often infantilized.
But on a more deeper level “pedophilia” is the wrong framing of the real problem of child sex abuse. It’s literally a medical term, a diagnosis. It makes child sex abuse a problem of some sick individuals with a diseased attraction.
This is of course a bad and antifeminist understanding of what rape and sexual violence is. It’s an inevitable and natural expression of power. The widespread rape of women is caused by the patriarchy, of men having power over women. And the misogynist oppression of women with sexual violence naturally extends to young girls. But all children are disempowered in our society. Adults have power over them in the patriarchal family, in the capitalist school system and other institutions of our society. Sexual violence against children flows from the power adults institutionally and systemically have over them. The vast majority of sexual violence towards children comes from the family and schools, not the “stranger danger” of creepy weirdoes hiding in bushes.
This is the reality that the framing of sexual violence as the result of sick individuals with a diseased attraction obscures. And it inevitably calls for a reactionary carceral and psychiatric response, justifying the police, prisons and psychiatric institutions. That’s why “what will we then do with the pedophiles?” is such a popular clichéd response to prison and police abolitionism. This very framing of the problem calls for a carceral response. If the problem of child sex abuse is sick individuals instead of the system, if we constantly root out and punish individuals we will eventually solve the problem.
In reality carceral responses actually make the problem of sexual violence much worse. The police, prisons and involuntary psychiatric hospitals are violent expressions of power and thus create the conditions for rape.
Pedohysteria is constantly used to justify the expansion of state power. Here in European Union we have had a legislative push to ban end-to-end encryption and make all online communication accessible to law enforcement, total online surveillance. And the reasoning is because otherwise pedophiles can use e2e communication to secretly send child porn to each other without the police being able to do anything, which is of course true, that does and will happen, but doesn’t justify killing all online privacy. This “chat control” act is literally called “regulation to prevent and combat child sexual abuse.”
The pedohysteria also justifies vigilantism, which tumblr callout culture is part of and is also a deeply reactionary and even fascist phenomenon. Vigilantism rests on the idea that what the police do is right, but they are not doing it well enough, because they are too reigned in by liberal ideas such as laws and regulations and the courts. So random people should take on the role of police to punish “criminals”, like pedophiles. And this goes through tumblr callout culture. A subtext running through pedojacketing callouts of transfems is the idea that transmisogyny does not exist and does not lead to transfems being disproportionately punished, but instead transfems are using their minority status to get away with sex crimes.
This standard conservative rhetoric about how liberals often literally let minorities get away with murder justifies their reactionary vigilantism. Of course in reality, transfems are far less likely to commit sexual abuse of children than other groups of people, because we are systematically excluded from the very institutions where such abuse happens, such as parenthood/the family or schools, because of the transmisogynist stereotype that we are all perverted child rapists. And the callouts of transfems as sex predators are in themselves abusive and protect actual abusers, just like how police and prisons are.
So no, I will continue to not give a fuck if you call someone a pedophile.
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leclercmode · 2 days
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big win ☁️ charles leclerc
summary: charles is the first home winner of the monaco grand prix and you couldn’t be prouder.
couple: married! charles x you
Y/N in the Ferrari’s Paddock
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NOW: “A Moment I Will Never Forget” | Emotional Charles Leclerc On His Home Win | 2024 Monaco Grand Prix
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comments ⬇️
user1 i love the way charles talks about y/n, i want a relationship like theirs 🥹😢💔‼️✨
user2 the respect they have for each other 😭😭😭
user3 while charles was there, shining with his love for y/n through the interview, all i could think of was "imagine being their future children and seeing such powerful and unbending love between your parents" 🥺
user4 @user3 u’re absolutely right omg 😭🥹🥺😢
user5 when a husband speaks about his wife with so much love - all women thank you!!!!!!!!!!!! because like… this is so SPECIAL to us.
user6 @user5 frrr!! like ??? i’m not even married, but i’m feeling so happy abt them!!!!
user7 ok but can we appreciate how he still has her present even in his work life? unlike other famous people that wants to keep their loved ones on much secrecy as possible. he’s so real and genuine for doing that!!!!
user8 wow imagine having a partner who loves you like he loves her.
ynusername has added to their story
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charles_leclerc
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Liked by ynleclerc, lewishamilton, and 3.139.681 others
charles_leclerc BEST DAY EVER ❤️❤️❤️
thank you for everything, i love you all ❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️
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user9 congratulations, char 🤍
scuderiaferrari bravo charles!!! so proud ❤️
user10 best weekend everrrrr
user11 you’re the best, we’re so proud of youuu!!
user12 amazing race, charles!! i’m so happy for you and to ferrari.
ynleclerc YAAAAAY!! you did it, good job 😘‼️✨
charles_leclerc @ynleclerc you’re the main reason for every good thing that happens in my life 🤍
user13 @ynleclerc YOURE THE BEST YN
user14 @ynleclerc @charles_leclerc I LOVE YOU BOTH SM
user15 che giornata, charles!! sei nella storia di monaco!! 🇲🇨🇲🇨 (what a day, charles!! you are in monaco history)
charles_leclerc
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Liked by ynleclerc, lewishamilton, and 2.349.928 others
charles_leclerc now a big THANK YOU for wifey, i don't know what i’d be without your immeasurable love and support. you're everything i’ve ever dreamed of and everything i could ever dream of having. you're the woman of my life, i love you.
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arthur_leclerc i just love you guys so much
user16 i’m in love with her fr
user17 was here from 2017 and the GROWTH ✨ im just so happy for them
lewishamilton ❤️❤️
user18 charles is deeply in love with yn and she is deeply in love with him
user19 @user18 frrrr!! it’s wonderful to heart them gushing about each other
user20 @user18 and im deeply in love with them
user21 this kind of love makes the world go round
user22 i like that he adores her openly, so egoless. aaaaaa yn, keep him!!!!!!!!!
user23 3 years dating and 5 years married ✨ this is true love.
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fremedon · 12 hours
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Back in 2014, I did a panel at CON.TXT on dubious consent tropes: sex pollen, fuck or die, omegaverse, and so on. And we talked about how the same tropes can carry different kinds of narrative weight, and how the ways they're used have evolved over time--how tropes that started out as a way to get around the rape culture assumption that Nice Girls Don't were repurposed to interrogate rape culture. By making the coercion external to all parties to the sex act--by removing culpability--they allow for rape and rape culture stories without rapists.
And I proposed that a lot of these tropes were also coming to be used in ways that read as allegories for the impossibility of resisting the conditions of late capitalism. A character is placed under complete social or biological constraint, with no power to escape or fight or do anything but submit, and their only choice is whether to submit gracefully or make a token and futile resistance. And that their decision to make the experience something they want--to claim whatever good they can in it--is an act of power. That to consent, even internally, and make it meaningful, even when they have no way to enforce a refusal, is an act of power.
Because it was a panel on dubcon, and saying Yes is what differentiates dubcon from noncon, in fiction, we talked mostly about stories where the protagonist says Yes; we talked about these consent tropes as allegories for the ways that people do, in fact, find good in conditions they cannot opt out of. People do build good relationships under rape culture. They build communities under late capitalism. These things do happen, outside of fiction, and a story about someone reconciling to life as an omega can have a lot to say about the complicated internal struggles people go through to make them happen.
We didn't talk so much about the flip side of these tropes--that by making that internal Yes meaningful, even in circumstances where No has no power, they also imply that there is meaning in No, even where it has no effect. They validate the worth of an internal resistance, even where it achieves nothing. Maybe we mentioned it? I don't even remember--it was a panel on dubcon, not noncon, and that internal No has the power to change the genre, if nothing else.
I am thinking now, though, about the rise within fandom of a purity culture that strenuously rejects these tropes--while also granting them remarkable power. That claims that, because real life does not have the distinction possible in fiction between dubious consent and nonconsent, that not only is fictional dubcon no different from fictional rape, it's no different from real rape. That returns culpability to these stories and places it firmly with the author. That says that a fictional character cannot consent, to anything--and that the real author, being the only person involved with actual moral agency, owes it to the character to keep them safe.
To exercise moral choice on their behalf.
To say No, in the fictional world where that No is meaningful, and to imbue that No with an irresistible moral weight in the real world.
At any rate I'm not saying the crowd that thinks not voting to withhold their consent from things done in their name is somehow a meaningful form of protest just needs to read some sex pollen about it. But I'm not not saying that.
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sweetmilkespresso · 23 hours
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Treat You Better | CS55-> ? Fic & SMAU
order: Ex!Carlos x ChronicIll!Fem!Reader x Mystery Driver
flavor: angst
ingredients: angst, chronic illness, gaslighting, hurt/comfort, and fluff
You can't help but look at your past relationship and compare it to the one you have now.
bariata's note: Hi, this is my first real fic in the f1 fandom. It's more of test to see if people would be interested in more like this. I hope you enjoy what I've brewed up for you.
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Sometimes you can't help but think about what you used to have.
Back when you and Carlos first got together you felt ontop of the world. You were in love and it felt like nothing could stop the rush you felt everytime you touched. You knew in your heart you loved him. You knew in your heart that he loved you too. Well, until you got sick.
It had started with the migraines.
They happened every few weeks coming and going like a tidal wave.
Eventually the migraines got closer and closer together until you got them daily.
They made you nauseous and every light became a potential trigger for a flare up.
You went from following Carlos from race to race to laying alone in the dark of your Monnaco apartment, in far too much pain to do anything.
That's when your relationship began to crumble.
It started with little things.
Carlos would complain about your constant rainchecks and I-Owe-Yous.
Next was the eyeroles and frowns whenever you mentioned your pain.
Overtime your body started to decline. Fatigue and exhaustion plagued your every waking moment. The aches and pains more pronounced as each day passed.
It was hard to stand and walk on your own.
As your body started to deteriorate so did your relationship.
What was originally little quips and snide remarks turned into white hot arguments.
Soon he was referring to you as:
"Too much" and "Exhausting"
You shot back that he was acting childish.
Not everything revolved around him and his needs. Things like this don't suddenly disappear because others find it tiring.
Until one day he'd had enough.
He'd locked you out of the apartment and threw out your things.
The two of you were done.
----
Looking back at that time you had felt so alone.
After you had broken up you moved into a little studio apartment that barely seemed fit for a person let alone a person with needs like yours.
Everything was too cramped and there was little you could do accessibility wise. You were renting the place after all.
----
But then he walked into your life.
It had been gradual at first.
He'd message or call you asking for an update since you'd went quiet on all your socials.
Soon enough he was inviting you over or coming to your place to visit.
It was incredibly cramped with the two of you in your little studio but you made it work.
He was so considerate of what you were feeling.
Whenever you cancelled he would just smile and say "Okay, there's always next time."
He was brazen and open about what he felt.
How he sat you down and point-blank made his intentions of "courting" you very clear.
You remember your first kiss.
You remembered how he cupped your cheek and asked permission before gently pressing your lips together in a chaste kiss.
He'd asked you to move in with him only a few months into your new relationship.
You agreed wholeheartedly. Your lease on your old studio apartment had been coming up anyways.
He happily helped you move in.
He didn't let you lift a single finger. Every little thing was taken care of. He hired a crew to move your stuff from your old studio to his place.
He was certainly full of surprises.
----
"Hey, y/n. Can you come over here and tell me if this is sturdy enough?" He asked you from the tile floor of the bathroom as he screwed a hand rail into the walls.
"What do you think about this one?" He asked as he passed you an ipad with plans for renovating the place.
"We can get the counters lowered and widen the space here so you can wheel your chair through and reach."
He installed ramps for all the doors.
He attached a wheel chair rack to every car he owned.
Since the house was two stories he even hired a guy to build a chair lift so you could reach the second floor.
Once your hands started shaking he would kneel down and tie your shoes for you.
Every little action was full of adoration.
He made it so easy to love him.
----
You're brought back to the present by a loud snore from right next to you.
Looking to your left you are met with the sleeping face of the love of your life.
You thumb over the pictures in your phone.
Smiling at the pictures you press post.
y/ninstagram
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y/ninstagram In a world of boys, he's a gentleman.
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jo-com · 2 days
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Charles jealous and possessive please 🔥 Smut. Thank you so much ❤️
₊˚⊹♡ ➛ le mien
Charles Leclerc x Fem!reader
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Summary: Part 2 of Mine
Genre: DARK fic.
Word: 2.03k words
TW: baby trapping, p and c penetration, possessiveness, jealousy, branding, manipulation, obsessive behavior, bit angsty, corruption, brainwashing, wrap it before you tap it folks and overall messed up shit. This is not proofread and there are some grammatical error also google translated french. if uncomfortable minors do not interact!!
─────── ─ ♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧ ─ ───────
Y/username just posted!
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Liked by Charles_Lecler, Francisca.cgomes, Carlossainz55 and 1,290,456 others
Y/username Happy 4th Anniversary Mon amour!
Charles_Leclerc i love you so much darling!
Y/username i love you more💋💋💋
Carlossainz55 Stay strong guys!
User1 Cutest Couple ever🙈
User2 JUST GET MARRIED ALREADY
User3 Agreed😍
Y/bff The cutest fr
❤️ liked by the author
Arthur_Leclerc Congrats bro!
❤️ liked by charles_leclerc and author
Despite all the love you share on social media, nothing can compare to the real truth that exists beyond the internet.
People don't see the things he does behind closed doors—all those emotional abuse, obsessive behavior, and possessiveness. Never, even once, do people know that it's happening between the two of you.
All they know is the sweet words you guys share in each other's posts and the way you act whenever there are people around you two—all sweet and loving like one of those fairy tale romances you read. But behind all that, they don't see how hurt you are mentally. It was happening constantly, and you were so used to it that you became numb and just succumbed to the growing pain you feel inside. 
To the point where you act like his puppet—doing everything that pleases him, and acting the way he wants you to.
You never once complained, thinking that it was just how love goes.
You were a fool. A fool blinded by "love".
...
"Hey y/n/n, are you alright? Me and mom have been worried about you; you haven't been going to our usual family gathering." your sister asked over the phone.
It was true; you haven't been going to those gatherings for a while now, only because Charles said, "It's not safe to go outside," and of course, like the sweet girlfriend doll you were, you followed his words.
You stared blankly, your mind wandering off. You tend to get lost in thoughts nowadays, and you're not sure why. Maybe it's from the stress you've been feeling, but you just brushed it off like it was nothing.
"Yeah, I am good. I've just been busy lately, you know? Keeping the house safe and everything," you chuckled dryly. 
"You know I can tell when there's something wrong, right? So just tell me."
Before you could answer, Charles walked into the room. With one hand holding Leo, he was snuggled up nice and cozy in his embrace. His eyes roamed around the room searching for you; his gaze then fell prey on your meek figure—you sat there holding the phone in one hand while the other rested on the softly fabricated couch. You looked angelic, as if untouched by any form of evil. 
Then again, Charles wasn't just any form of evil; he was the reincarnation of the devil himself, and he wanted nothing more than to corrupt your innocence.
With a soft smile, Charles walked to where you sat, sitting beside you and settling leo down on his lap. 
"Who are you talking to poupée (doll)?" he asked nonchalantly.
"Oh, just my sister; we were just catching up on things." You muttered, your voice quivering slightly; you don't know whether you were scared or just have some sore throat that made your voice crack.
Charles looked at you in disbelief, his eyes narrowing with skepticism, and simply turned his attention back at Leo. "Hang up the phone," he said bluntly, not even sparing you a glance.
"But baby, we were just talking." You tried to argue with him, telling him that you just wanted to chat with your sister, but as usual, he blocked your words of plea and glared at you—he always does that, looking at you as if he were judging your whole soul.
His eyes have always been your weakness; they both scare and pleasure you at the same time. Charles knows that, and he uses it to his advantage every time.
The atmosphere in the room was heavy; you could feel it weighing down and crushing your spirit.
Sighing defeatedly, you had no choice but to end the call with your sister and not further complicate things.
"Hey, uhm, sis, I'll just call you back, okay? Something just came up."
You didn't even let your sister respond before hanging up the call. Charles hummed contentedly and patted the seat next to him. At that very moment, you felt angry with him, but you knew that you couldn't do anything about it, so you sucked it up and sat beside him. Leaning close to his embrace.
"Bonne fille, ma chérie (good girl, my darling)," he mumbbled softly, kissing the roof of your head.
...
Charles gripped your waist tightly, his jaws clenched, and hands balled up to a fist. He half-ass smiled at the man, trying to compose himself—fighting back the urges to beat the shit out of the guy in front of them.
He saw the way he looked at you; his eyes scanned each and every part of your body like you were some kind of art on display. fucking disgusting. 
You, on the other hand, held on to him, almost ripping the fabric of his clothes with your tight grip. You paid no mind to the guy he was talking to and just stared at the bustling room; in there, people were having fun, dancing, and drinking with others. 
At that moment, you didn't care about Charles or who he was conversing with; all you wanted was to spring free from his embrace and just party wild with others. Was that too much to ask for?
For him, it was. If it was legal, he wanted nothing more than to lock you up and live the rest of your lives together. So, having that idea was just wishful thinking—it never hurts to dream, though. 
"I'll see you around, yeah?" The man asked, earning a subtle nod from Charles as an acknowledgment.
"Quel putain de cinglé (what a fucking weirdo)," he mumbled under his breath, his accent making the words sound more spiteful and venomous.
You didn't hear him say that. You were too busy to admire people's enjoyment and bask in the laughter and smiles that surround you. How could people be as care free like that? The ache on your heart only grows fonder. Oh, how you wish you could do the same. 
With your head up in the clouds, you didn't seem to notice the angry monegasque that stood beside you, cursing you in any language he knew. The next thing you felt was a harsh sting that rested on your jaw.
"What the fuck is wrong with you? I've been trying to talk to you! What are you even looking at? Are you cheating on me, Chienne (Bitch)?" he yelled, not even caring anymore if people heard him.
Your breath hitches, eyes widening, and heart racing fast.
His hands were now on your jaws, gripping them with sheer strength. You didn't know what was going on or why this was  happening to you. You were always so nice and never did anything to cause harm, so why?
All those questions in your mind made your vision go blurry and your head spin, causing you to black out on the spot.
...
You woke up the next day with a pounding headache and only bits of memories of what happened that night. "Ouch," you winced, massaging your head to try and ease the pain. 
As if on cue, Charles walked in with medicine on his left hand and a glass of water on the right. 
His face lit up, seeing that you were now awake. He softly smiled and walked towards your shared bed. The matress dipped down as he sat next to your sitting body.
"Are you feeling better, mon amour?" he asked. His hand was about to stroke your cheeks, but out of reflex, your body flinched at his sudden movement. 
That made Charles frown. You know how bipolar his mood has been; that's why you've been extra careful not to ruin it. You were expecting him to be mad, but what happened was the opposite. He only sighed deeply and lowered his head. 
"I am sorry, Mon cœur." Your being shocked was an understatement; in fact, you were flabergasted at his words. You never knew that hearing him say that would make you want to tear up.
"Hey, baby, it's okay. I know you didn't mean for it to happen," you assured him, and rubbed circles around his arm. 
And just like that, Charles once again got you wrapped around his finger. You were way too easy to convince and so naive that you'd fall for anything he said.
He slowly lift up his head and gave you a light smile.
You then melted at his expression, it was silly of you to think that a face like that could ever harm you. he would never do that.
...
"Fuck, Charlie, put it in already, please," you begged, your eyes watering from the overstimulation. His hands gripped your waist tighter—muscles flexing in the process. 
"You're so needy for my cock, mon amour," he breathes out. 
The two of you have been at it for half an hour now, both out of breath and with marks made by one another. Your bodies were sticky with each other's bodily fluids, but you guys paid no mind to that. Only focusing on reaching the pleasure you both wanted so badly.
Without wasting a second, Charles huridly inserted his dick into your aching core. Your eyes widened from the sudden sensation between your thighs; you could feel how he was stretching you, and the need for him to satisfy you only increased. 
"Move, please" you said, your voice quivering and hands scratching his back to let out some of the pain.
Your legs instantly rested on his lower hip, wanting to keep him as close to you as possible. You don't know why you're acting like that, but you suddenly got the urge to mount him and fuck him till dawn. 
"Shit baby, you're always so tight," he chuckled, his left hand settled in the headboard while his right hand played with the nub of your tits.
His hips clashed with yours, making the two of you a moaning mess. Charles then dove down to your breast and licked it, biting and teasing them. He made sure to leave plenty of marks. 
"Oh god, i..i am about to come," you gasped, your toes curling from the rush of adrenaline coursing through you. 
"Just come for me, baby," he said, continuously pounding into you, your flesh crashing at each other and making a loud, smacking sound.
His hand then snaked up to hold onto your ankles, lifting it up. Shifting his dick into a deeper position.
With the new found position, your vision started to go blur; now only seeing nothing but stars. Your mind then turns hazy, and hands gripping tightly on the duvet sheet that scattered on the bed.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck" was the only thing you said before collapsing on the matress, your body convulsing with pleasure as your juices slowly fall down your flush tighs.
"Damn, all that for me, ma chérie?" Charles laughed, licking his lower lip at how ravishing you look; fucked out and cockdumb for him.
He continued to rut his hips to your overstimulated cunt. "Fuck, Je veux mettre un bébé en toi (i want to put a baby inside you)" he mumbled, not minding your state and carried on fucking you into an oblivion.
"I'ma fill you with my cum, make you a mama and the fill you up again....fuck" he rambled, his hips never stoping, not until he reach his high.
And after a few more thrust, he finally came inside of you— his eyes rolling in the back of his head with satisfaction. He continued to rut into you; not wanting to spill his cum and then coating your walls with his white seed.
You were sure to get pregnant by that and after that, you two are going to be tied forever, just like he planned.
...
yeah that was pure filth, hope you guys like it though! My requests are always open.
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riririnnnn · 3 days
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More random things in Blue Lock I find endearing:
-> Brothers
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LOOK AT THE HAND PLACEMENT OF SAE. JUST LOOK AT IT. LOOK. AT. IT. OHMYGOD I'M GONNA CRY.
Oh god.
It's tough to explain, but to see him supporting Rin's arm instead of the trophy makes me want to punch a wall. It feels like, "Yes, we won this together, Rin." OHMYGOD! AAAAAAAA!!!
-> Hushed wisher
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I really don't think we have ever seen Noa coaching any player other than Isagi, so him silently rooting for Kaiser caught me off guard real hard. Of course, it doesn't seem like much of a big deal, but to see that Noa hadn't completely taken his eyes off of Kaiser and that he hadn't completely pulled away his trust from Kaiser hits a certain type of emotion in my heart.
Considering that Kaiser wants to win over Noa too—a fact Noa, probably, knows—makes everything feel a bit.. bittersweet.
-> CHEERS!!
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The above panel happened after Shidou scored a goal against Barcha and honestly—
CUTE!!!
I mean, BM was next in line to face PxG—it's probably the reason why they were watching the match live—and they were going to face Shidou which makes them rivals, and yet, when he does something cool, they all go, "WOOHOO! THAT'S COOL!!" instead of worrying or being jealous.
It's called sportsmanship, I guess?
It's sweet.
-> BM's Dad
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There's another translation, but I find the above one way better because it's so... soft.
I mean, Noa has always been shown as this cold, emotionless person who inhales and exhales logic, so it was sweet when he tried to reassure Kiyora—when he showed some kind of compassion. It was like, "Hey, Kiddo! It's okay, don't worry, you'll play the next time! Cheer up!"
It also makes it sound like even if Kiyora were not to have the required stats for the next match, then Noa was prepared to against his own ideals and let Kiyora play regardless.
Sweet!
-> Protective
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When Nagi got pissed off because Barou's violent behaviour nearly hurt Reo. Like, just look at that stance, he was ready to beat the crap out of Barou if Reo wouldn't have stopped him.
No matter what label you give Nagi and Reo—lovers or friends—you can't deny that they are probably the best thing that happened to eachother.
I really want what they have.
-> "It's their love language"
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They barely knew eachother and yet when these two started to brawl, they all intervened immediately—Nanase and Isagi are literally hanging onto them with their dear life. It's tough to explain, but I found the gesture really sweet, like, they didn't know them! They could bash open their skulls—it wouldn't affect them at all and yet, they are trying to stop them!
Adorbs!!
Also, Chigiri was on the other side of the field, I guess. He came running!!! So sweet!
-> First friend
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The way Bachira blindly believed in Isagi. Like, he had full trust that Isagi will come and play with him. He never doubted him at all! The healthiest duo of Blue Lock!
Also, look at his duck lips. Cutie.
-> "Welcome to the academy!"
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Anybody who has shifted to a completely new place full of completely new people knows how good and relieving it feels when others make an effort to help you feel welcomed.
No idea if those three extra characters got selected in the tryouts or not, but they were nice. If Kaiser would've met them earlier, then they all would've surely been good buddies.
-> Beloved Ace
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The way everyone instantly got mad at Shidou when he hurt Sendou—sweet! Also, the fact that they all refused to play if Sendou didn't play makes me giggle.
I adore bonds like these so much.
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Pt: 1, 2, 3.
Probably the last of this series.
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iamthedukeofurl · 2 days
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Discworld is an interesting beast in the age of ACAB. Like, the city watch books are a story about police and the way in which a good police force can help and protect people. Which would make it copoganda. And I'm not going to say that the City Watch books are completely free of copoganda, but they also do something interesting that fairly few stories about heroic police officers do, and I think it has a lot to do with Samuel Vimes. A lot of copoganda stories like, say, Brooklyn 99, are perfectly capable of portraying cops as cruel, bigoted, and greedy, but our central cast of characters are portrayed as good people who want to help their communities. The result is that the bad cops are portrayed as an aberration, while most cops can be assumed to be good people doing a tough job because they want to help protect people from the nebulous evil forces of "Crime". The police are considered to be naturally heroic. Pratchett does something very interesting, which is provide us with Vimes' perspective, and present us with an Unnaturally heroic police force. In Ahnk-Morpork, the natural state of the watch is a gang with extra paperwork. It's the place for people who, at best, just want a steady paycheck and at worst want an excuse to hit people with a truncheon. Rather than be an army defending people from the forces of Crime, the Watch is described as a sort of sleight-of-hand, big burly watchmen in shiny uniforms don't stand around in-case a Crime happens in their vicinity, they stand around to remind people that The Law exists and has teeth. The Watchmen are people, when danger rears it's head, their instinct is to hide and get out of the way. When faced with authority, their instinct is to bow to it out of fear of what it might do to them if they don't. Carrot is a genuine Hero, but his natural heroism is presented as an aberration. Normal Cops don't act like Carrot does. The fact that the Watch ends up acting like a Heroic Police Force is largely due to the leadership of Sam Vimes, but Vimes himself is a microcosm of the Watch. The base state of Sam Vimes would be an alchoholic bully of an officer, one who beats people until they confess to anything because that makes his job easier. Vimes The Hero is a homunculous, an artificial being created by Sam Vimes fighting back all those instincts and FORCING himself to behave as his conscience dictates. Vimes doesn't take bribes or let his officers do the same because, damnit, that sort of thing shouldn't happen, even if doing so would make things a lot easier. Vimes doesn't run towards sounds of screaming because he WANTS to, he forces himself to do so because somebody needs to. It's best summed up in Thud “Quis custodiet ipsos custodes? Your Grace.” “I know that one,” said Vimes. “Who watches the watchmen? Me, Mr. Pessimal.” “Ah, but who watches you, Your Grace?” said the inspector with a brief little smile. “I do that, too. All the time,” said Vimes. “Believe me.”
In the hands of another writer, or another series, this exchange would be weirdly dismissive. To whom should the police be accountable to? Themselves, shut up and trust us. But from Vimes, it's a different story. Vimes DOES constantly watch himself, and he doesn't trust that bastard, he's known him his entire life. The Heroic Police are not a natural state, they're an ideal, and ahnk-morpork only gets anywhere close. Vimes is constantly struggling against his own instincts to take shortcuts, to let things slide, but he forces himself to live up to that ideal and the Watch follows his example. Discworld doesn't propose any solutions to the problems with policing in the real world. We don't have a Sam Vimes to run the NYPD and force them to behave. We don't have a Carrot Ironfounderson. But it's at least a story about detectives and police that I can read without feeling like I'm being sold propaganda about the Thin Blue Line.
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loonylesbian · 1 day
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ok i am very much so not a writer, or at least not creatively. but i had this idea and i couldn’t get it out of my head so i decided to write it out. it ended up being 6.1k words so feel free to not finish it cause i’m sure it’s not good. however if you do read the entire thing i hope you like it and don’t clown on me too hard. long story short either you’re welcome for this or i’m sorry for this. there is no inbetween
naked in manhattan // k. martin
10 years ago
“Kate can you believe it! We’re starting high school!!!” you scream, hugging your best friend on the last day of summer. If you were being totally honest, you were nervous never being good at making friends, always relying on Kate for that. Her being so outgoing and friendly, it’s not that you weren’t nice, you really were, if anyone asked Kate would say that you’re the sweetest person she’s ever met, you were just shy. Talking to just about anyone made you nervous, in fact, you had a short list of people who didn’t make you nervous.
“I know! It’s gonna be great, I’m gonna do my best in basketball and volleyball, and you, my little genius, are gonna be the best in every class, and make tons of new friends,” she reassured you as if she could feel the nerves radiating off of you in waves. You were grateful for that, she had always been able to know exactly what you were feeling and how to help, even if you didn’t. It was one of your favorite things about her, sure there were too many things you loved about her to count, but that was one of your absolute favorites.
“I promise I’m gonna do my best to make it to each and every single game of yours,” you told her holding up your pinky while looking up at her, she giggled and interlocked her pinky with yours in a pinky promise, something you have insisted on doing since you met. You swore that it was more real than a regular promise, and made it to where the universe let the promise happen, not just the people involved.
“Well if it’s a pinky promise, I know you're never gonna miss a game,” she replied with a smile reserved just for you.
7 years ago
So far your promise had held, not without some struggle, but you had still attended every game Kate had for both sports she played, and just about every other game she just wanted to watch. There were a few games where you were late because of your job, studying, or other things that had gotten in the way, and the two times where you sat as far away from everyone else as humanly possible because you didn’t want to get them sick but also didn’t want to miss Kate’s game, but for the most part you sat right at the front to cheer on your best friend.
After the game tonight you guys were gonna have a sleepover as tradition for Friday night games, whether it resulted in a win or a loss. Either way, you usually ended up in her arms bringing her comfort, whether that be her knowing that she deserves it because she played well and won to bring her down from that high or wishing she had done things differently to change that loss and you reassuring her that it wasn’t all her fault, because as far as your were concerned basketball was a team sport and a loss couldn’t hang solely on one person's shoulders. After all, you were her number one supporter, never failing to let her know how proud of her you are and how much you love her no matter how she feels. You made everything feel okay for her, but it was the least you could do, afterall she did that and more for you.
when i sing that lana song it makes you cry
On the drive back to her house listening to the radio, she couldn’t help but look at you as much as she could without crashing the car. She couldn't help but feeling like she was was really listening to the song for the first time as you were singing along to “Young and Beautiful” by Lana Del Ray. She didn’t quite know what it was but when she looked at you and listened to you singing she couldn't help but feel her heart race and her body flush, she swore she could listen to you forever. Had someone told her in that moment she would never get to hear you sing like that, she would swear she’d cry And if anyone asked, she would tell them she liked girls, it wasn’t like it was a secret, and she’s had crushes before, she knows what it feels like. But she never thought she would have a crush on you, purely because you were her best friend, she couldn’t do that, it could ruin your friendship. That wasn't something she was willing, or at least wanted, to risk. A friendship that you've had since kindergarten, although now that she thought about it, it was basically a lesbian right of passage to fall in love with your best friend and-
mean girls we watch every night, and we both have a crush on regina george
“So wanna watch Mean Girls?” you ask abruptly interrupting her thoughts. Truth be told she’s glad that you did, it was probably best that she didn’t dwell on those thoughts for too long. Little did she know she wasn’t the only one who wasn’t having completely friendly thoughts about the other. She was just the only one who wasn’t in total denial about liking girls in the first place.
“Obviously. As if we would watch anything else first,” she replies with a scoff as if it were crazy for you to even ask. Although, to be fair it was crazy of you to ask because that was the first movie you watched anytime you had a sleepover, and it had been that way for years.
“Sorry. Sorry. I forgot you had a crush on Regina George,” you said with a small chuckle, brushing off the twinge of pain you felt at the idea of Kate having a crush on anyone else, even if it was a fictional character from a movie. Because why would you be sad or jealous about that? She was just your best friend, right?
Kate flushed even more red at this comment if that were possible with the combination of the game she had just played and watching you. Even though it was chilly outside and in the car, in that moment it felt like it was 100°. She wasn’t sure if it was nerves or joy that was causing her to feel that way, but she did. In that moment life was perfect, the chill in the air, the rain falling around the car they sat in, the now soft music coming from the speakers, and most importantly you. She wished she could stay in that moment forever, just taking you in, stuck in that perfect moment forever. She let out a slightly nervous chuckle, lightly biting her lip, before she replied, not wanting to break the peace she felt.
“Okay, okay, don’t act like you don’t have a crush on her too. I know you have a thing for blondes.” She finally lets out trying to wave you off and ignore her pounding heartbeat, all while trying to steal another glance at you. What she doesn’t notice, however, is your face flushing or your fists clenching when she says that as if she uncovered a deep dark secret, that you hadn’t told anybody. And to be fair that’s exactly how you felt, you did have a crush on this mean girl and you did have a thing for blondes, but you hadn’t quite come to terms with that yourself, let alone talk to anybody about it. So if anyone asked, the blondes you had a thing for were blonde guys, but you were hoping nobody would ask. Even if that person was Kate, your best friend.
And you didn’t notice her grip on the steering wheel tighten a little bit, waiting for a response. Hoping you would do or say anything to acknowledge what she had said, telling her she was right or wrong, waving her off altogether, laughing. She waited for any acknowledgment of what she had said for the rest of the ride home, but it never came. Instead, you changed the subject all together after sitting in silence for a few minutes. You hoped she didn’t notice that, but she did.
And so you followed your typical Friday night game routine, going to her house, watching Mean Girls, finding yourselves tangled up together but never acknowledging it, and then turning on some other random show or movie before falling asleep. Still in each other's arms. Still, just best friends.
6 years ago
Today was the day, the last full day before your crush best friend was leaving you. Ok well not you per se, but she was leaving. And yes you were also going to leave and go even farther in a few weeks, but that’s beside the point. It still felt like she was leaving you and it just didn’t feel right. You couldn’t exactly put into words how or why you felt so badly about it, but you did. Maybe the fact that you had never been apart for longer than a week played a part in it. Sure, you were both gonna go off and hopefully live your dreams, but it just didn’t feel right to do that away from each other. However, she was going to Iowa and you were going to New York and there's nothing you could do to change that now. And you did genuinely think about going to Iowa instead, but New York was your dream, so when you got into culinary school there you decided to go. You knew you loved it and you knew that New York was a great place to start, not to get started on the fact that it could take you literally anywhere you wanted to go. That didn’t make the decision any less painful though.
“I’m gonna miss you so much,” you whispered in Kate’s ear giving her a hug. You honestly don’t know why you’re saying it right now, it’s not like she's leaving right this second, but you still need to say it, and you’ll probably say it about 1,000 more times before you actually have to say goodbye in the morning after your final Friday night sleepover, even if it didn’t follow a game you guys have grown into the habit of doing this almost every Friday night. She squeezes you tighter if possible when she hears this, trying to burn that moment into her memory, knowing she loves you but it’s too late to do anything about it now, at least not anything serious. It wouldn’t be fair to either of you, to admit her feelings for you after years of friendship less than 24 hours before you guys go to different states for college. It would be cruel, and she told herself it would almost be more cruel if you felt the same way about her. She knew that you came to terms with being queer, at least enough to admit it to her and yourself, what she didn’t know is that a big part of that was you coming to terms with being in love with her. But still, it was too late and she had to let that be.
“I’m gonna miss you too,” Kate said with a big sigh before releasing you, muttering a quick “more than you could know,” under her breath, hoping you didn’t hear. Happy when you showed no indication of hearing the last part.
“But we still have a whole afternoon/night to do all of our favorite things together before I leave. And we can go get our favorite breakfast in the morning,” she said with a more upbeat tone, poking your sides slightly, trying to lighten your spirits too. Slightly succeeding when she saw you perk up a little, putting a small smile on her face.
“Okay, okay, so what do you say to popcorn, Mean Girls, and a bunch of candy?” you asked, slightly mimicking her accent. She replies with an eager nod. Grabbing your hand and pulling you to her room after making a pit stop for the snacks, failing to notice the blush that covered your cheeks. You simply follow her rushed pace, happy you decided to wear sweats and a tank top, as opposed to something like jeans to lounge around in.
By the time you were about halfway through the movie, you found yourself wrapped in her arms, like usual. But for some reason not knowing when you’ll see her again after this, and the cheesy high school coming-of-age movie in the background made you a little more confident. Not super confident to where you would outright tell Kate that you’re in love with her, but confident enough to try and hint at something, which is more than you’d ever been willing to do with anyone else. So that’s what you do. Especially after spending years denying your feelings, and almost a whole extra year hiding them.
“You know what sucks,” you start off looking up at her waiting for any kind of acknowledgment. She finally looks down at you with a light “Hmm?”
“I’m about to go to college and I haven’t even had my first kiss,” you say unable to stop your eyes from glancing down to her lips. This statement took her off guard, sure, you had never talked about anyone, guys or girls, but you’re you and she figured you had your first kiss and in your typical shy fashion, you just hadn't wanted to bring it up.
“What? No way!” she says laughing a little only realizing her mistake when she saw your face drop.
“No no no, I didn’t mean it like that. I just don’t get how you of all people haven’t had your first kiss yet!” she exclaims “I mean you’re literally perfect, you’re beautiful, you’re smart, you’re funny, you’re a great cook, I mean you're my favorite person in the world. I just don’t get how no one’s kissed you yet!” she finished off her little rant with a small huff.
“Well no one’s wanted to,” you mumble looking down a little bit, feeling embarrassed all of a sudden.
“That’s not true,” she mumbles quieter now than she had been before, suddenly feeling almost as shy as you while taking you off guard. It was pretty obvious what she meant, no hidden meaning laced in with her words, unable to pick her gaze back up to your eyes once they dropped down to your lips.
“I mean would you?” you question with a little more confidence once you notice where she's looking. You can’t help but follow her lead and look down to her lips, before going back up to her eyes, even though she still wasn’t looking.
touch me baby, put your lips on mine
“It doesn’t have to be weird or anything, it's just you’re my best friend, and I’ve never kissed anyone, and you’re leaving tomorrow and I don’t want to go to college without at least having my first kiss,” you kind of spit out hoping you don’t sound pathetic or desperate, or make her want to kick you out.
“Would you want me to?” she questions back, already knowing your answer but just wanting to ask to know that you were sure.
“Yeah, I’d like that” You rush out in a kind of whisper to her nodding, so she nods back to you. You can both tell that you’re nervous, each for different reasons. All it takes for you to start leaning into each other is locking your eyes again. In that moment she looks like an angel, with the soft glow of the lamp making her hair look even more golden than usual, to the way she was looking at you, not to mention how you felt about the grip she had on you. You barely even had time to actually look at her before her lips crashed onto yours. And that’s exactly what it felt like in that moment, like waves crashing onto cliffs, a completely overwhelming feeling, yet still, it brought you a newfound sense of peace. She pulled you as close to her as possible, knowing that this may be the only time you get to do this, not wanting to be even an inch away from you. At this point you were basically straddling her while she was leaning up against her headboard, both wanting nothing more than to be together, knowing you couldn’t.
You had never kissed anyone before but thought to yourself that in that moment that if this is what it is like you never wanted to stop. Kate had kissed people before, and you knew that, but what you didn’t know was that none of those felt anything like with you. They couldn’t compare. Not by a long shot. If she didn’t know how much she loved you before, she definitely knew now. The only issue is that she knows this, it’s gonna make it even harder to leave you in the morning.
By the time you guys pull away breathless from a mixture of kissing, nerves, and giddiness, you can’t help but feel at peace, resting your foreheads against each other’s. Sure you knew that nothing could come of this, that nothing would come of this, at least not right now. But you were happy. Happy that you got to show her how much you love her in one small way, one new way. Happy that you got to know her, and happy that she felt the same way about you. Even if you guys didn’t necessarily talk about it, or say outright say it, you both knew that was always one of the best things about your friendship, you didn’t have to actually talk in order to communicate and get your point across, and even when you did need words you didn’t need many of them.
So when you guys make eye contact again you come to a silent agreement, you have that night, and the next morning to talk if you want. You know you love each other, but also that there's realistically nothing you can do for you to start a relationship at that moment and have it work out. Not when you were about to be nearly 1,000 miles apart. It wasn’t right to risk it. And you both know that you’re too important to each other to risk your friendship, especially when almost all of the circumstances are pointing to it not working out. So, you have that night, after that, you’re friends again, maybe not even best friends, and if it works out you can be together in the future when you can be closer. But for the time being this is for the best, this is safe.
April 2024 || Present Day
It had been years since you and Kate had last seen each other properly, there were brief passings when you were both in your hometown that resulted in short conversations, but you were both barely there, you less than her, and when you were your family made sure you never went longer than 20 minutes without them other than to let you sleep. You had stuck to being friends, not best friends, just friends. Never talking about that night, your last night together. Not wanting to risk it, not yet. Other than that, you guys have managed to text each other occasionally to check-in. Keeping each other updated on your lives, but not close. It was as if you had both come to the understanding that you should keep a certain level of distance so as not to ruin what you had. Knowing that if you talked more, you would’ve talked about what could have been more. And you just couldn’t risk it.
id love if you knew you were on my mind, constant like cicadas in the summertime
That’s not to say that you didn’t keep an eye on her and her basketball. You had been her #1 fan since day one, and even if you didn’t talk or see each other as much as you used to, you wouldn’t let that change. You still felt the exact same way when you thought about her, even if you tried not to. Even when you knew you shouldn’t. You just couldn’t stop thinking about her. While you obviously couldn’t go to all of her games anymore, you still watched every single one, even when you were at work during them you would try to either watch it on your phone or record it and watch it when you got home later. You even managed to take off work for both the Final Four and the Finals this year to watch her and her team, even if you didn’t make it in person, you still had to watch the games live. And once you heard that she had declared for the WNBA draft you had to get a ticket for that, it was perfect, it was in Brooklyn so you didn’t have to travel more than taking the subway. And this time you told yourself that you would talk to her, not go up to her at the draft but you would text her and let her know that you were gonna be there if she wanted to meet up after, or at any point while she was in town. You would make an effort to see her. You really didn’t know when the next time you’d get the chance to see her again would be, it’s been so long since the last time, partially due to schedule, partially due to nerves, and you were about to move across the country to Las Vegas for a new job. You figured it was now or never, and you really hoped you would get the chance to see her so you could get her out of your mind.
You knew you had to try. Try to talk to her, try to see her, try something. You couldn’t stand it anymore, constantly thinking about her, you needed closure, even if there wasn’t necessarily anything to get closure about. You still had to try. So even though you had grown up a lot in the past six years, you had learned to start a conversation instead of stuttering your way through when someone came up to you, gotten more friends, and most importantly gained confidence and figured out a pretty good idea of who you were. You were nowhere near as shy as you used to be, but still the mere idea of Kate brought back butterflies that made you feel like you were in high school again. Frankly, the feeling had to be classified as something stronger than butterflies. So obviously the idea of calling her went out the window for you, you figured she was so busy anyway that she probably wouldn't answer, and you told yourself that if she chose not to answer a text it would hurt less than not answering a call. And after a lot of thinking and rewriting, you finally sent her the text.
“Hey Kate, I heard you’re gonna be in town for the draft and I know you’re probably busy but I would love to see you. I just wanted to let you know that I’ve been keeping up with your games, I’m so proud of you, still your #1 fan, and can’t wait to see where you go. I’m gonna be at the draft rooting for you, just like I have been every step of the way even when I couldn’t physically be there. So if you wanna meet up after the draft or at any point while you’re in town let me know.”
Once you hit send you waited, and waited, and waited. Once it hit six hours with no response you figured you weren’t going to get one. Now that you had sent it, you realized that it was more nerve-wracking to sit and wait for the possibility of a response than to try and figure out what to say and hit send. Every possible reaction she could have had to your text was running through your head, well not every one, just every bad one. You didn’t know what she was thinking, or how she thought anymore, and that was terrifying to you. The nerves were so bad that to anyone watching you probably looked like a mess, flushed cheeks, sweaty, a little hunched over, and very clearly looking nauseous. But you were fine, it was no big deal.
You lied to yourself, it still hurt that you didn’t get an answer, but still decided to go to the draft anyway. Even if she didn’t want to see you, you still wanted to support her, figuring it was a big event and the chance of you seeing each other let alone talking were slim to none. You could go and didn’t have to talk if she didn’t want to. Plus you didn’t want to waste your money after you already bought the ticket and more than anything you wanted to support her, she was your first friend, your best friend, so far your most important friend, and now she's about to be a professional basketball player. You had to be there to see it come full circle, after spending the better part of ten years being able to count the number of her games you hadn’t seen on one hand, and saying you were her #1 fan, you just couldn’t miss it. Not for you, and certainly not for her.
By the time you had actually gotten to the draft and it started you were so focused on listening for Kate or her name, you couldn’t focus on anything else. You couldn’t hear anything that wasn’t related to her. You were confident that she was going to get drafted, but there was still a “what if” sitting in the back of your mind knowing your heart would break for her if she didn’t, maybe more than hers. Then you heard it, “With the 18th pick in the 2024 WNBA Draft, The Las Vegas Aces select Kate Martin, University of Iowa.” you were so focused on her getting on a team that you didn’t think of the city she might end up in. You wish you could hit rewind when you heard it, almost not believing it. She got drafted to the Las Vegas Aces, you would be in the same city for the first time in 6 years. There could be a chance of you guys actually happening. Of course, she still had to go through training camp and make the roster before she was officially on the team, but you have no doubt that that’s going to be the easy part compared to everything else that it took to get to that moment. Not to mention text you back. When you’re finally able to focus again, there have been a few more picks you decide to go on your phone and check Twitter to see what they are saying about the draft. What you didn't expect to see when you opened your phone, however, was a message from Kate.
🏀Kate 🏀
“Hey, sorry I didn’t see your message or get back to you earlier! I’m so happy that my #1 fan came to support me just like you have been all these years. It means the absolute world to me to know that you came here for me tonight because I wasn’t even sure I was gonna make it. I haven’t been on my phone like at all today, but I’d love if you’d come celebrate with me and my friends tonight? It only feels right that you’re there, you’ve been there for pretty much everything else already, you should be there to celebrate now too.”
When you read the text you could’ve sworn your stomach quite literally did flips, while a giddy feeling erupted through your body, even releasing a small, relieved, laugh. At this point, the last thing you were expecting was to get a response, at most expecting to go to a bar close to your apartment for a drink or two, if you were feeling frisky. But upon seeing her text, you decided “Why not?” and decided to respond.
“Yeah of course I’d love to celebrate with you and your friends!! You deserve it after all the hard work you put in to get here. Just send me the time and place and I’ll meet you there.”
You tried to keep your response short and sweet, not trying to read too much into what she said or trying to seem too eager. Although, you were quite excited to actually see her and have the opportunity to talk to her again. You figured it wasn’t guaranteed that you were even going to talk more than a simple greeting, let alone that she would want to talk about what happened the last time you spent any substantial amount of time together. Hell, you weren’t even sure you’d stay longer than half an hour. But before you could dwell on it too long, you got a response, with nothing more than an address and a time.
//
By the time you show up, which is 20 minutes late due to nerves alone, you are sure Kate had forgotten that she had even invited you. What you hadn’t expected was for everyone to automatically know who you were, greeting you excitedly. You thought at most one, maybe two people would vaguely know who you were, but you didn’t expect all of your friends to recognize you and know pretty much everything about you. Including things you were pretty sure you hadn’t told Kate when you would catch up.
But that’s exactly what happened, all of her teammates knew who you were, Jada, Gabbie, and Caitlin, even people she barely knew. Never in a million years did you think that she could possibly talk about you that much. You didn’t think there could possibly be that much for someone to talk about regarding you, let alone that anyone would want to, especially after 6 years of limited communication. Yet it warmed your heart, it made you happier than you had been in a long time, to know that she talked about you, that she cared about you enough to talk about you that much. Jada went as far as to say,
“We finally get to meet you after her nonstop talking about you for I don’t even know how long. We were starting to think Kate made you up,” before giving you a hug in greeting. You could tell from that alone that she was an absolute sweetheart.
new crush, high school love again
By the time you had been able to talk to Kate for any substantial amount of time, it was clear that you both had a few drinks. Neither one of you could help yourselves from embracing each other in a long overdue hug, slightly rocking as she lightly rubbed your back. You couldn’t help but feel like you belong there. You had always felt like you belonged when you were with Kate, fitting together like two puzzle pieces. Like you had wasted time not being there. You never wanted to leave her side again. You didn’t think you could stand it. At that moment, hugging each other again for the first time in you don’t know how long, you both felt like you were in high school again. You knew she still gave you butterflies, but in that moment you could have sworn you fell in love with her all over again.
“I’m so proud of you, I knew you could do it,” you whisper while pulling away from the all-too-long hug. Looking up at her, you were filled with an all-new type of butterfly, a bird maybe. Filled with a sense of joy knowing she was happy to see you, and a sense of contentment knowing that you were going to be in the same city again, for the first time in years. Knowing that you know each other, without really knowing each other. In a sense you know each other, you kept each other updated on the big things, relationships you were in when you talked, basic interests, but you didn’t know what really mattered. You didn’t know the little things, the day-to-day, the highs and the lows, and you missed that. You missed knowing the one thing that made her day unbearable, or the one thing that got her through the day. It was always you, to this day. But she wasn’t willing to tell you that yet. She loved you, and you her, and you both knew that, but you only knew that past tense.
“I couldn’t have done it without you,” she says into your ear sending a shiver down your spine. You had officially fallen even more in love with her than the last time you saw each other, and you barely talked yet. And just like no time had passed, able to see the change in your demeanor, she grabbed you by the hips before looking into your eyes.
“I’m serious y’know? I really wouldn’t be here without you. You made it all worth it,” she pauses, eyes briefly scanning the room. “Every time I felt like I couldn’t do it, you made sure to tell me that I could. You made it clear that you believed in me, but you weren’t ever gonna push me into something I didn’t want. Even when you weren’t there I still thought of you. Thought of what you would say, how you would make everything better. You got me here baby,” she finishes off. Her eyes found their way back to yours while she talked, the intensity of her gaze alone could melt you.
“Even though I wasn’t there I never missed a game. I watched every single one, even if it was just a recording. I'm still your #1 fan, and I can promise to never miss a game of yours in the WNBA now either. I’ll even be at all the home games,” you smile up at her looking to see if she caught onto your words. You can see her trying to figure out what you meant, her eyebrows scrunching up in confusion as she was thinking before a smile eventually broke out on her face.
“What? Are you moving to Vegas?” she asks, her volume growing with each word. She grabbed you by the shoulders before lightly shaking you in disbelief. As if trying to figure out whether or not this was really happening.
“Yeah, I got a job there and I’m moving at the beginning of May,” you say laughing at her clear excitement. To her it felt like she was about to burst, this is what you had been waiting for, this was a sign. It wasn’t planned and neither one of you had any idea it was going to happen, but you were going to be together again.
the rush of slumber party kissing
“I can’t believe it! Are you joking?” she asks looking down at you for any hint of a lie coming from you, but she found none, so she continued. “Like we’re actually going to live in the same city? This is amazing, I can’t believe it.” and then it slips out, she doesn’t mean to say it, but she does, “We could try. Like we could actually be together, for real-” By the time she realizes what she said she was looking at the floor and couldn’t bear to try and meet your gaze. After all, she basically just confessed that she was still in love with you after 6 years of barely seeing or talking to each other.
“Really? You’d want that?” you ask her, grabbing her face and lifting it to meet your eyes. You couldn’t believe she wanted you, after all this time she still wanted you. So you did something Kate never in a million years thought you would’ve done, you kissed her. She wasn’t sure where your confidence had come from whether it had been her basically admitting that she never moved on from you, or the drinks you had, or just simply you growing up and actually being more confident. But she couldn’t think about that now. Now she had you in her arms, for the first time in years. She had you in a way she thought she had missed out on because she waited. And in that moment she knew she wasn’t going to let you go ever again.
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orbitariums · 1 day
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warmth | art donaldson + patrick zweig + black fem reader (a snippet)
i miss posting on here real bad and i keep teasing things (christopher moltisanti, richie jerimovich) and not actually writing/releasing them SO i'm putting this snippet of this oneshot i'm writing to encourage myself to actually put this out.
i think this will probably have multiple parts because the tension needs to builddd. and please, let me know y'alls thoughts!!! what do you think, what do you predict is gonna happen, r u thirsting adequately, etc. i love hearing your little comments <333
& let me know if you’d wanna be tagged when this comes out
essentially: reader, patrick and art were childhood best friends who conveniently were all in love with each other, or at least had enough sexual tension to make it feel that way. fast forward almost a decade later, and reader has made it onto the red carpet with her fantastic pen, and patrick and art have gone pro. when she invites them to her house for a star-studded friendsgiving, tensions rise and old doors open, springing forth new possibilities. this is only the beginning.
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩
warmth
“We should just turn around now, save ourselves the embarrassment.”
Patrick paid Art no mind, rolling down the window and leaning out of it, pressing the buzzer as you had dutifully instructed them in your email invite. 
“Too late now. Already threw away about a gallon of gas just coming up the hill to this place,” he replied, the sense of ease in his voice only egging Art on even more. 
“Exactly why we should leave. I mean, fuck. Does she have to live on a hill?”
“Residence of [last name], to whom am I speaking?” a male voice rings on the other end. 
“Uh…” Patrick starts, Art reaching up over him, 
“Patrick Zweig and Art Donaldson?”
A silence filled the air. Patrick swatted at Art, forcing him back in his seat. 
“Why’d you say it like a question, dumbass?”
Art stammered, already starting to get red in the face,
“I was --”
The gate swung open and both the boys let out a sigh of relief.
“Thank you!” Patrick chimed, smirking at Art, who seemed to be sinking in his seat. 
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩
Meanwhile, you were inside the mansion that you call home, flowing around the kitchen like there weren’t about fifty people milling about and mingling amongst one another. It smelled like something out of Hansel and Gretel -- from the fragrant brown roasted turkey sitting in the oven, to the gourmand scent of perfectly caramelized candied yams, to the vanilla musk perfume you dotted on your wrists. A black mini Schnauzer nipped excitedly at your feet as you added half a cherry tomato to the giant bowl of salad you’ve been prepping for the last twenty minutes. You look like a pro, like a party of this magnitude is no big deal to you.
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩
“Do we ring the doorbell? Or maybe… should we knock?” Art questioned, hands tied behind his back as he glanced up at Patrick for answers. 
“It’s open,” Patrick retorted, but he too stood stupefied at the door, like a weary traveler wavering in horrific awe before the mouth of some epic beast. 
“On three?” Art suggested, and when he didn’t hear a response, he started to count, “one… two…”
Patrick stepped in before Art could get to three. Art scoffed, but followed behind him anyway. 
The two of them stood there silently, taking the grandiosity of it all in — the sky-high dome ceiling, two grand wooden staircases directly opposite one another, the shiny verdant porcelain flooring, the Basquiat painting hanging above the wide bookcase directly in front of them. Mouths open, they looked like they were ready to catch flies. 
“Fuuuck me,” Patrick breathed out heavily. Art’s head was stuck staring up at the ceiling, so high he thought it’d never end. 
“You made it.”
Both Art and Patrick seemed to stand straight at the sound of your voice, like soldiers at attention. You almost laughed, but instead you stood there coolly, smiling at them both with your lips and your eyes— in them, a look that was almost knowing, wise beyond your years. It seemed like a lifetime before either of them would speak. They spent half that lifetime practically gawking at you, drinking you in. And how could they not, when you were draped in that cream-colored silk dress, the flowy bottom dancing above your ankles. You looked more beautiful than they remembered you, calmer, secure — of course, they hadn’t seen you since they were teenagers. Now there was this air of timelessness about you that was only just poking at the surface when you were in high school. Now it surrounded you. Something mystic encompassed your entire spirit, dripping from your head to your feet. They’d spent years seeing you from behind a screen, being interviewed on live TV, attending red carpets for award shows, blending in with the Hollywood mecca — another beautiful twenty-something industry talent. But the glow of the television that seemed to give everyone a perfectly filtered sheen was nothing compared to your beauty here. 
“It’s so good to see you,” Patrick broke the silence first, practically lurching forward with open arms to embrace you. His beard scratched against your cheek. You could smell the cologne that was beginning to wear off, mixed with a hint of cigarette smoke. His arms nearly suffocated you.
When he pulled away, you couldn’t help but chuckle at the way he smiled at you so fervently. 
“Good to see you too, Patrick…” you glanced over at the mousy boy who didn’t seem to have changed much since high school. “C’mere, Artie.”
Art chuckled: a nervous huff of relief, inching forward into your open arms and nuzzling his chin into your shoulder, closing his arms around your midwaist. You could smell the aftershave that still clung to his face, and the detergent still fresh from his clothes. 
You pulled away, but took one of each of their hands, squeezing. 
“My two boys. Man, how long has it been?”
“Oh, just a while—”
“Seven years,” Art interjected. 
“Who’s counting, right?” Patrick grinned, making all of you laugh. 
You looked at them almost expectantly, eyes wide like a doe, the slightest smile playing at your lips. They looked back with bated breaths. Always, you were in charge, always. It had been like this since the scabby-kneed days of childhood. If you wanted to play on the swings, they were there on either side of you. You were the queen of the sandbox. In middle school, they snuck extra cookies for you from the lunchroom and fought over who got to surprise you with the treat every day. Senior year of high school, in the hotel room in London, when you had them perched on either side of you like baby birds waiting for mother’s return— when you had both your hands on each of their thighs, had them panting like puppy dogs, inching your hands further and further only to leave the minute you heard “lights out.” 
It had been seven years since then and still, it was the same. Only this time, you were stupidly rich, thanks to the soaring success of your two psychological thriller books turned TV series. It wasn’t that you’d forgotten about them, or didn’t care about them now that you were rich and famous. You’d gotten accepted to study creative writing at Brown, Art went to play at Stanford, and Patrick went on his path to go pro. You were delighted to see that they were only a click away thanks to the internet, just one click away from being reintegrated into your life. Your childhood best friends. 
“C’mon, lunch is almost ready.”
Friendsgiving. Who didn’t love the concept? It was a readily welcomed, wholesome idea — friends of all ages and backgrounds coming together to rehash their Thanksgiving with leftovers, stories from the year, and maybe a game of cards. Except your friendsgiving was attended by A-list actresses, Cannes festival attending screenwriters, and the odd Grammy-nominated artist. And your friendsgiving was not at all an intimate affair — it may as well have been a club party. Most people were outside, dancing, shrieking with laughter, drinking, and skipping their way to their seats. Your backyard was vast and verdant green, with a pool in the center, the perimeter lined with lemon and peach trees, and miles to explore. 
“This is fucking insane, is that Dakota Johnson?” Patrick scoffed. He and Patrick had been left to their own devices yet again, while you flitted around being the hostess with the mostest, easing and gliding about. A laugh here, a clink of glasses there, and a coolness to you that stood in striking comparison with the warmth that stirred deep down inside you. A warmth that could be served with a ladle into goblets, like some elixir with magical properties only you possessed. 
“No, you idiot, that’s— oh shit. That might be Dakota Johnson.” 
Clink clink clink. 
“Everybody, hi, hi! Thank you for coming, please, sit down,” you called out, clinking your glass to get the attention of your guests. Patrick and Art scrambled to find seats, ending up at a table with people who might have been minor celebrities or art critiques or designers -- at least one of those options. 
“I wanna thank you all so much for coming, this really means a lot to me. I know these sorts of things can be really hectic, but you guys make this house feel like a home. I’m glad that some of you will be staying with me for the next few days, there’s always room for more,” you glanced over at Art and Patrick. “Some of you are new friends, some of you I’ve known for far too long. But I think it’s incredibly fucking cool that we’re all here together now in this moment, just enjoying each other’s presence. I do this every year, and every year I meet even more amazing, talented, fascinating people and you all are so dear to my heart. And now, what we’re all waiting for… lunch is served!”
A cacophony of cheers rang out as staff rushed about to place plates in front of everyone. You stood giggling, basking in all of it. Patrick and Art couldn't help but watch on with deeply impressed smiles — you were meant to bask: in glory, in pleasure, in everything. You looked just right standing where you were.
The rest of the afternoon Patrick and Art spent attempting to blend in as best they could. They were pro tennis players, but this was another level of stardom that they couldn’t quite fathom yet. They watched you ruthlessly the entire night, unable to squash those rising feelings of attraction and yearning for you that had never quite simmered to begin with. You’d always been cooler than them, but watching you now there was a certain air to you that belonged to a grown woman, someone comfortable and confident and in their element. You were positively swimming in the sunlight the entire afternoon. It was like you had this sort of magnetic pull to all things good, rich, and warm. People wanted to be around you. And god, did this prove that. 
By night time, people were finally starting to leave. The sun hung low in the darkening sky, making the fairy lights glow stronger now. The few people that were staying with you for the rest of Thanksgiving weekend had disappeared to their rooms. Besides the waitstaff still milling about, clearing the tables, it was just you, Patrick, and Art. The two of them hadn’t meant to stay so long, really. It wasn’t like they were forcing themselves to stick around and be acknowledged by you in a way that felt meaningful. Sure, you’d had your small talk and cracked a few inside jokes, but as much as neither wanted to admit it, they needed more. If it was hard to get your attention before, it was nearly impossible now. They were surrounded by so many people who all wanted to network and talk and introduce themselves, they found themselves mingling with your friends, some of them people who they’d seen on screen in the past year,  more than you. They’d been dragged onto the dance floor multiple times by multiple acquaintances, only to gawk at you swaying your hips rather than actually dance themselves. It became overwhelmingly clear, in their increasingly present desperation, that they should’ve accepted your offer to stay in this castle of a house for the weekend. Neither of them had packed a bag. 
“This is awkward, we’re the only ones left,” Art sighed, still sitting at their table. 
“Let’s just… wait, okay? She might come back out."
"And give us a little speech?"
"Yeah, asshole, maybe she will."
At that very moment, you appeared again, this time clad in a two piece linen pajama set. You didn’t miss the way both their eyes trailed up your legs as you stood in front of them, arms crossed, smiling expectantly. 
“I was hoping you two would still be here,” you said. You glanced between the two of them, that awkward silence filling the air once again. “C’mon. Let’s talk.”
You turned and walked back inside, the two of them trailing behind you.
"Your house is fucking sick by the way. I mean holy shit," Art blurted once you got to the main entrance hall.
"Feel like I just walked into a page of Architectural Digest," Patrick added on.
You led them up the stairs. Both their eyes dropped to your ass, which poked out just a bit from under the pair of shorts you wore. Silently watching the way your body curved as you walked.
"Ha, thanks. I think I did pretty okay for myself," you replied.
You led them to the den on the second floor and sat criss cross apple sauce on the lush green couch. Art sat on your left, Patrick on your right. Patrick spread his legs and Art had one foot up on the couch, bouncing against his knee. 
“Sorry we didn’t get to talk much. I was so busy being the host of the year that I didn’t pay enough attention to you two. My favorites.”
Art chuckled,
“Favorites? You’re just saying that.”
“No, I’m serious! D’you know how much I missed you guys?”
Patrick scoffed playfully,
“All those TV interviews I watched of you? I wouldn’t even be thinking about us.”
You couldn’t help but grin, that warmth coming through once again. It nearly made the two men melt. 
“Well I was. I always think about you guys.”
Now came Patrick’s voice again, a heaviness to it that almost made you jump,
“Do you think about anything specific?”
Although it had been nearly a decade since you’d last seen each other, you didn’t miss a single thing about either of them. Patrick didn’t mince words, and he never shied away from not just hinting at, but blaring his salacious intentions every time he spoke. You tilted your head towards him, a cool smile tugging at your lips. 
“Just what good times we had.”
A silence, accented with a flood of nostalgia and a pointed reference to those “good times” permeated the air. You took a moment to gaze at the two of them ever so softly — enough for them to feel it, but not enough to make them squirm (though, they were easy to make squirm) — before you decimated the silence by slapping your hands down on either of their thighs and squeezing endearingly. 
“So tell me, where’ve you two been? I’m not the only one on TV these days.”
“Ahh, you don’t wanna hear about boring tennis,” Art waved a hand of dismissal. 
You chortled, a trademark of yours that Art and Patrick had always poked fun at in school,
“You’re right, I don’t.”
“You still laugh the same,” Patrick said, grinning like he was trying not to but was unable.
You chuckled, this time low in your throat, and turned your head to face him again. You and Patrick were similar in the sense that you were always pushing the boundaries, tiptoeing closer and closer to the line — but the three of you had never quite established where that was. At some point, you were all just too close to even think about “the line” or “boundaries” — all of you appeared clueless to societal expectations of friendship, spurting a sort of cultlike relationship where everyone else was an outsider. 
“Do I?” smiling at him like you were warning him not to tease. 
“Yeah, that little snort you do,” Patrick replied, unshaken. 
“You do do a little snort,” Art chimed in, always chirping like he spoke from a less nefarious place. 
“And if I get started on you guys’ little tennis grunts?” you grinned fully now, showing teeth, looking between the two of them and leaning back a bit.
They followed, leaning back against the couch and keeping their heads in line with yours so you were never too far away from them, each of them turning their heads to look at you. 
“No way you actually watch us,” Art replied.
“I do!” you insisted. “Seriously, if you’d asked anybody here you would know.”
“Sure, let me just strike up conversation with George Clooney,” Art shot back.
“Ha-ha,” you bleated sarcastically. “I don’t even know him… but I have walked past him once on the carpet.”
“Look at you,” Patrick smirked. “Little Miss Superstar.”
He punctuated his sentence with a hand on your knee. Your eyes flickered over to him and you caught the way his Adam's apple bobbed in his throat when he swallowed, felt the way he gazed up at you. You didn’t miss the desire twinkling in his eyes. 
Then Art, always second but not necessarily last, 
“She’s our little superstar, you know that, right?” 
His hand just gently grazing your shoulder.
You let them revel in the moment for as long as you felt appropriate, then huffed.
“You know you guys can stay for the weekend, right? I mean, you should.”
“Oh… no, we wouldn’t wanna impose,” Patrick said, his hand slinking away from your knee.
Another chortle from you, this time the kind that said everything about how you lived in comparison to them,
“You wouldn’t be. This is a five bedroom house. It’s fine. Besides, don’t you guys wanna actually catch up? I’ll let you torture me with tennis talk.”
Art started to stammer,
“I-I mean… we didn’t bring anything.”
“Just our idiot selves,” Patrick added.
“Don’t worry. I’ll get Charles to get you guys all set up.”
“Charles?”
“Oh, he’s my assistant,” you said nonchalantly, as if it were nothing. “You’re not fighting me on this. I want to spend some quality time with my boys. Don’t make me have to beg for it.”
“We could never make you beg for anything,” Art replied, just a little too quickly. 
“I know, Art, that’s why I love you,” you grinned over at him. “So, are we all in agreement? Stay with me. Just this weekend.”
“Yes,” they both replied a little too quickly this time. 
You bit your lip, suppressing a smile. 
“You know… I really, really missed you guys. And those good times we had.”
You let the memory of that night of almosts in London resurge, let their minds run amuck with whatever teenage fantasy was still left over from that night. A moment so brief it could almost be forgotten, could even be flagged as incidental, accidental, but the three of you knew, even as grown adults (especially as grown adults), that it would always stick and remain unresolved, unless someone ran to the rescue with some sort of solution. Once again they held their breaths. You stood up, glanced between the two of them like you were sizing them up, and then smiled as if nothing had happened at all — you let them breath. 
“Your bedroom’s the second on the right when you leave here. Charles will help you get set up— I’ll see you guys in the morning for breakfast.”
And just like that, you were gone. The air in the room seemed to clear. Your presence was like a thousand tons of pressure weighing on their bodies and their minds. Finally, they could breathe.
They glanced at each other with the same longing, almost nervous expression — high school all over again.
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩
eek let me know what y'all thought. i wanna finish it by this week <3
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kingtycoon13 · 2 days
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yall I just had to read and see more “Gale is the token straight” “I can’t see Gale as anything but straight” type of posts and I am BEGGING this fandom and Gale fans in particular to DO BETTER and even if you romance him as a female character to SPEAK UP and AGAINST this type of bi/panphobic bullshit, because why is this still happening? It’s because heteronormativity for this character in particular is only empowering these kinds of people to say these kind of things and now make entire blogs dedicated to “debunking the all characters are pansexual” despite LARIAN SAYING ITS CANON
yes I’m angry and upset. As a gay male Galemancer I’m so sick of this constantly happening in this part of the fandom, I’m sick of having to keep making posts like this. I want to just forget about real life shit and “have fun” like all the people who can happily romance him as a lady and not have to get and see this kind of bullshit do. I’ve seriously been on the verge of leaving this fandom several times, if yall truly care about this being a fun and inclusive space I am begging yall to really speak out against shit like this when you see it, don’t tolerate bi/panphobic people and also help to boost more queer representations of Gale, maybe even do some of your own, etc. Let’s PLEASE not turn into a Dragon Age fandom 2.0
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voxisdaddy · 1 day
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Collection of Pleasure
Hazbin Hotel NSFW Headcanons…
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Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Pairings: Alastor | Lucifer | Vox | Valentino | Velvette | Charlie | Vaggie | Cherri Bomb | Rosie | Carmilla | Adam | Lute | Emily | Saint Peter
C/TW: 18+, NSFW, MDNI, reader written as fem, cussing, various kinks, collection of a few subs x dom!reader, mainly the ladies are domming/topping lol, not proofread, some are bad im sorry, carmilla has two though bc its carmilla
In which in at least one NSFW headcanon for each character...
My personal NSFW headcanon for several Hazbin Hotel characters. This includes some of the main cast, the Vee’s, the angels, and some of the other characters ♥︎
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𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Alastor likes being the predator chasing his prey during his rut...
Sex with Alastor is pretty rare, happens occasionally but usually it's for special occasions like an anniversary. His ruts however? His favourite thing to do (aside from you) is have you run around the forest in his room while he hunts for you in his demon form. He can very easily catch you but he likes to let it play out before he pounces on you for like, two weeks. Goodluck lol
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Lucifer is an insatiable beast...
When he started crying and was quivering so bad one night, you thought that enough was enough and climbed off of him only for his hips to desperately follow you, thrusting into nothing. Despite his tears from the overstimulation you've given him for several rounds by then, he looked at you with teary eyes and begged you to not stop. A safe word was set in place because of that, so you made sure when to stop when he genuinely wanted you to stop. But despite how teary eyed he gets or how much he begs, he never uses it.
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Vox likes to watch himself...
"Oh you mean like in front of a mirror?" NO. Well yes but actually he loves getting it on with you in his office because all his monitors will showcase how well you're either riding his dick or fucking his ass with a strap. A few monitors will display his weeping face though thanks to you. He thinks it's humiliating and will try and change them to literally anything else but he can't exactly focus on anything when he's so lost in pleasure. So his weeping face and him getting railed it is. It's like he's your own porn star. This porn star whimpers "mommy" too so have fun with that.
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Valentino is capable of getting fucked dumb...
I know it might be hard to believe with him, but it is possible and it's why he's so obsessed with you. He's very experienced in sex, obviously; doming, subbing, top, bottom, doesn't matter. It's all good. The way you can somehow fuck him so good and bring him to so much overstimulation that all he can do babble incoherently? Mans is down bad for you and grows more romantically attached to you than he thinks. Often times the night after a particularly passionate and heated session, he heads to the studio with a slight limp in his step. The first time people saw him limping like that paired with his surprisingly decent mood that day, they knew; oh you're fucking good.
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Velvette is a pillow princess...
I 100% see her as a dom, and she very well can dom, but she's selfish and wants all the pleasure with minimal work. With the way she acted, especially when it comes to teasing you, it really through you in a loop when you got to bed that evening. Okay so you're topping-no big deal. The real surprise was when you found out she didn't wanna do anything to help you get off. Oh well. Sitting on her face and using a vibrator against her clit is motivational enough for her to pleasure you too.
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Charlie has a little bit of an exhibitionist kink...
a little bit. Kind of? Okay but you know the large window in her room we see her by in episode 1? Has rode your strap and/or fucked you with a strap right in front of that baby. Granted it's pretty high so not like anyone can easily look in anyways but it's still just not private enough that it does something to her. If she's ever potentially really ticked off sometimes she'll eat pussy aggressively while you're pressed, bare tits and all, against the glass.
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Vaggie likes titi's...
Whether your big breasted or sporting itty bitties, her hands immediately go to fondle them during heated make out sessions. She's kinda shy in the bedroom so don't take her boldness to grope your chest as her being dominant-she just can't help herself from groping you. Sometimes after sex she'll kiss your chest. Depending on where she kisses and if she'd biting or not, it may lead to another round.
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Cherri Bomb is the only person who can rival Lucifer over…
Eating pussy. Whether your sitting on her face or her head is buried between your plush thighs, my girl loves to eat. And she eats like her life depends on it. Even when you think she may need a breather and try to move she’s very quick in pulling you back and keeps you there firmly, often smirking when you’re overstimulated and squirming.
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Rosie loves thighs...
Call her old fashioned (cuz she is) but seeing your exposed thighs just does something to her. I mean how scandalous! She spends a majority of her time in Cannibal Town which is trapped in the 1910's. Everyone is dressed in only the most stylish and modest clothing from that time period. So if you ever come strutting about, publicly or privately, in a little something that exposes more of your figure and especially your thighs, expect to have dozens of hickeys decorating your inner thighs by the next day.
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Carmilla always says she has no favourite sex position but she does...
it's 69. She prefers to be at bottom since it makes it easier for her to finger you while simultaneously assaulting your clit with her tongue. And of course while you're down there she likes to keep you trapped with her thighs. Because i mean look at them thighs!!! MMHHMMM!!! I see her leaning more towards dom so like, if you're able to focus on eating her out without getting distracted as little as possible then she'll reward you good.
I have two for Carmilla that I desperately want to share so here's my second one; she loves having you keep her strap warm while she does paperwork. Just you sittin pretty on her big plastic dick, occasionally gripping your thigh when you squirm too much. Will play with your clit if you're being needy-try not to squirm too much though or else you ain't getting anything once she'd done her work for the day.
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Adam secretly cherishes your more intimate sex...
As much as a dick (master) this guy is, he definitely has his vulnerable side. During some make up sex after an argument and temporary separation that could have very easily lead to your guys break up, he found himself unusually emotional as he was balls deep in ya. He didn't cry, as if he'd allow himself to do that especially at a time like sex, but he felt it. The pull at his heart strings, the relief that washed over him that you two were still together, the way your lips uttered his name like a prayer., It was a surprise to him and one he'll never forget.
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Lute cums surprisingly fast via fingering...
You found this out when opting to use your fingers to do the job over the dildo, strap, and vibrator. She already knew she came fast via fingering but didn't want anyone to know that-she came almost embarrassingly fast and it sometimes felt like it wouldn't stop. This hit her ego a little bit considering that she's stubborn as all hell but she could barely defend herself when she kept cumming around your fingers. Safe to say you had quite a lot to lap up that night.
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Emily gets wet easily...
is it really that surprising? You found this out when you were kissing at her neck and reached down to her uplifted dress and felt that slick wet feeling between her legs. She was very flustered and even more when you teased her for getting this wet over a few neck kisses-there was only one hickey (so far).
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Saint Peter has a thing for light bondage...
Nothing hard obviously but his wrists being bound together or to the bed via rope or handcuffs gets him going. It puts him in a position where he's completely at your mercy. Blindfolding him is on the table as well-his other senses are heightened as fuck making him react more enthusiastically to your touches and whispers. Even though he's into it it's also a double edges sword cuz this guy needs to touch you and not even being allowed to look at you either has him whining.
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This has been in my drafts for weeks lol some of these aren't to my personal standards but I was really running out ideas that were both fitting to the character and weren't too basic/a repeat of another's. I didn't wanna exclude some people from my original roster so I toughed it out lol
sometimes my posts get shadowbanned for literally no reason and at random so it would mean the world if you reblogged this thank you <3 no pressure tho!
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hwaslayer · 21 hours
Text
favorite things | pmylm drabble (jyh)
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⇢ favorite things - drabble one // ft. the pmylm couple
summary: yunho's been having a rough time adjusting to the 'real world' and gets upset when he can't have the person he needs the most right away.
words: 2.8k
warnings: cussing/mature language, jealousy/insecurities, yuyu is upset and doesn't really know how to control his feelings rn cause he is just a tired boy 😭, a small lil fight, the awkward silent treatment, yuyu and yeo talk thru his feelings for a bit, kissing/making out, sorry if i missed anything i quickly whipped the rest of this in bed lol
a/n: whipped this baby up because i just felt the need to and i missed my babies!! (+ this lil IG inspo hehe) more drabbles to come 🫶🏼 love you in slow motion update this weekend annnnd i’m gonna have to push back the fallen angel hwa fic cause im all over the place 🥹 but we’ll do better!! lol stay tuned!!
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Yunho has entered the real world and he is exhausted. When his mom used to joke about living and working in this so-called real world, he used to think it was just a thing to keep him on his toes, shake him up a little bit.
Nope, that shit was all real.
And he hates it.
He hates it because it's the one thing that brings another fight to the table for your relationship. Ultimately, Yunho knows all he has to do is adjust and he'll be fine in the long run. Both of you will be fine in the long run.
But today, that feels like a stretch and he is short of patience. Unusually short of patience than usual. He knows you don't mean any harm but for some odd reason, today he feels like the world is going to swallow him alive and everything is triggering.
The first thing is the fact that he has to stay a bit later than usual to finish up a project he had been working on. He was hoping to rush home and spend some time with you before you were off to practice for the evening, spending 2-3 hours with your friends and the group.
That didn't happen.
So, when he gets home and you've already texted him saying you've left with a sad, crying face, he's bummed. He gets himself comfortable anyway, heating up a cup of ramen since he's not too hungry. Maybe he'll get some food with you when you're out— it's one of his favorite things to do.
Now, the second thing that makes him a little more irked is the fact that 2-3 hours go by and you haven't texted. He knows practice can run long, but it's also a little unusual for you to not keep him updated. You finally do a bit past 8pm with a quick:
you: hi baby, sorry! practice was a bit busy, i was caught up during breaks. i'll be home soon then i'll come over after i shower, okay? wait for me (: we should go on a food run! hehe
yunho: sounds good, love. i'll be here.
It closes to 9pm and Yunho isn't hungry anymore. The cup of ramen will do since there seems to be a dim chance of getting food with you, especially when you tell him you'll be over in a quick second but you’re still nowhere to be found. Yunho charges to the door anyway and is hoping to greet you when he swings the door open. Instead, he's greeted with you laughing and giggling with Hyunjin downstairs in the lot as he hands you a bag of to-go food.
Let's set the record straight— Yunho loves your friends. He knows he can trust them, and he knows they're all genuinely good people. He's always been happy you had a good group of people around you.
It's just today, he really, really missed you. After a long ass day. And he knows you [and Hyunjin] mean no harm in your actions, but he can't help but feel a tad bit insecure [and slightly jealous] that you aren't rushing over to see him after not being with him all day. He knows he can blame this on the fact that he's exhausted and a little short on patience. God knows he really did try to keep it cool and brush it off.
He couldn't help it.
Yunho shuts the door again, leaving it unlocked for whenever you feel ready to come upstairs and hang out with him. He sits on his computer chair, irritated, and throws on a game to distract himself momentarily. Maybe it'll help ease whatever he's feeling,
But, nope.
It doesn't.
Because when you walk in, you're still yelling out to Hyunjin and whoever before you shut the door, place the food on the counter and walk into his room. You throw your arms around him from behind and Yunho lets out a small, audible sigh. That was already alarming enough for you, but you still dip your head to the side and try to grab his attention.
"Hi." You place a quick, chaste quick to his cheek, but Yunho doesn't move.
"Hey."
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing." Is all he says plainly. "I was just waiting for you."
"I know, but Hyunjin stopped by to give us food—"
"I thought we were gonna grab food together?"
"Oh." You frown because it completely slipped your mind, or else, you would've left the food at your own apartment to save it for tomorrow instead. "Fuck, I'm sorry. I didn't think he was gonna swing by with food. We all left each other earlier without any plans of—"
"It's okay." He taps your arms as a signal for you to let go of him. "You should go eat."
"We can share, there's more than enough—"
"All good." It's petty of Yunho, he knows. For him, it's the fact that you told him you wanted to go on a food run after practice. Another small, but meaningful thing you two did often. He doesn't blame Hyunjin for anything at all, no. There was no way of preventing that, and who the fuck was he to make you reject food from a friend?
He just wished he could take you to get food. Watch you order your favorites and do your happy dance in his passenger's seat. It's another one of his favorite things.
"Yunho." You slowly step aside and sit on his bed, your appetite all of a sudden gone from how distant your boyfriend is being. "I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to make you upset."
"It's fine."
"Is it really? Because something feels off and I wanna know what I did so I can fix it."
"It's nothing, Y/N." You almost flinch at the way he calls you your name instead of his cute endearing nicknames. It throws you off guard so much that you resort to a flimsy, broken:
"Okay." It's barely above a whisper. You stand to head back out to the kitchen, quietly eating a bit of Hyunjin's extra to-go thai food before setting some aside in a tupperware for Yunho and placing it in the fridge. The rest of the night goes.. like that.
In silence. With weird tension.
You hate it.
You wish you could just fix whatever you did wrong, or that Yunho would tell you no matter how 'silly' it may sound. He's always been so good with communicating, even during small disagreements, you weren't sure why he was avoiding it this time around.
You quietly get ready for bed, brushing your teeth and flossing before changing out of your sweats and hoodie to Yunho's shirt. You pad into the room, slipping yourself deep under the sheets and pull up some vlogs on Youtube that you need to catch up on.
"Tired?" Yunho asks from his computer chair, still playing his game.
"Mhm." You look at him, hoping he'd come over to kiss you, cuddle you. Shut off the computer and lay next to you, show you any kind of affection. He doesn't budge, though. You feel your bottom lip trembling, your heart slowly cracking in various places. You have to take a breath to prevent yourself from crying, and Yunho can feel it. He can feel your gaze on him, he can tell you're seconds away from crying. So, Yunho stands and shuts off his computer. But, he starts to head out to the living room and you're on the verge of breaking down. His way of avoiding the issue and getting more upset was to shut down. Deflect.
This wasn't like Yunho at all so you knew something was wrong; something was that bothersome to him.
"Baby." You call for him softly, and he just looks at you. You can tell he's conflicted between keeping this up and dropping it entirely, but it doesn't seem to be enough. It's not enough for him to drop it because his expression doesn't change. He still seems cold, distant. Tired. Unlike the Yunho you're so, so used to seeing and having.
"I'm just tired. Go to sleep."
"Where are you going?"
"The living room."
"Let me come with you."
"Y/N. Please go to sleep. I told you nothing was wrong." You watch the way his jaw slightly ticks before brushing you off completely and leaving the room, shutting the door behind him. A loud sigh escapes his lips as he treads to the couch and plops onto it, leaning his head back onto the edge. He shuts his eyes, giving himself some time to sort through his feelings because what the fuck, Jeong Yunho?
He knows this is much needed, though. He needed to step away for a second to regroup. He doesn't want to unintentionally hurt you by saying or doing things that he doesn't mean. He's tired, and he's acting like a fucking baby because he just wanted you at so many points today— yet, the universe just didn't let him have you. That wasn't your fault.
None of this was your fault.
He needed to do better. Just because he was exhausted, didn't mean he had to act this way towards you.
"Yo." Yeosang walks through the door, dropping his duffle bag to the floor as he steps out of his shoes. "You good?" He furrows his brows at the sight of Yunho just resting his head back with his eyes shut close.
"Mhm."
"Where's Y/N?"
"In the room." Odd, Yeosang thinks. It's not like you two to be separated like this. It's pretty obvious Yunho is bothered by something and that you've probably gotten into a small fight over it. Yeosang isn't one to meddle much, especially when it's not his business to. But, he is concerned seeing his roommate like this. It's probably one of the rare times he ever sees Yunho upset.
"You sure everything's okay? I'm not really used to seeing you sitting out in the living room in silence like this." Yunho lets out a tiny chuckle that's barely audible, but he finally turns to Yeosang and purses his lips.
"I guess. Just exhausted lately."
"I bet. You've been working your ass off." Yeosang looks into the fridge before stepping away with a cold water bottle and heading towards Yunho. "Y/N put some food in there for you, by the way."
"Did she?"
"Yeah. It has a little sticky note on top." Of course you did, why wouldn’t you? You always thought about Yunho no matter what.
"Fuck."
"What?"'
"I've been such a dick to her tonight."
"What'd you do?"
"It's so stupid." Yunho begins to explain how his day has just been all over the place— from work, to staying late and not being able to see you before practice, no updates until 3+ hours after practice, looking forward to a food run that didn't end up happening because of Hyunjin. All Yeosang can do is laugh a bit and shake his head.
"Dude, we all have bad days. It's inevitable. You're still adjusting so don't be so hard on yourself. It's hard going from a routine you were so used to, especially with Y/N. Then, having to switch it up and play tetris with your time. It's not easy. But also, I'm sure Y/N has been feeling the same way. She's just doing what she can to support you first and foremost. She'd never hurt you intentionally, and I know she'd always choose you in the end." Yunho's head drops as he leans onto his knees and sighs again.
"Fuck, you're right. I don't know why today was so difficult. I guess it all piled on for me and I didn't know how to sort through it."
"All good. Shit happens." Yeosang shrugs. "Anyway. I'm gonna head to bed. You should probably do the same. I know she's probably waiting for you."
"Thanks." Yeo gives him a little dap before he's off to get comfy and end his day. Yunho stays on the couch for a few more minutes before he brushes his teeth and washes up for bed. He stands in the bathroom for a few more seconds before gaining the courage to finally talk to you about everything that's been going on today. When he walks in, you're still bundled under the sheets, but your phone is against the wall and a video is playing. He can hear you sniffling through the video though, and he knows you've been crying.
God dammit, Yunho.
"Baby?" You hear Yunho softly call your name as he slips into bed and wraps his arms around you.
"Mhm?" You respond, still facing away from him.
"Can we talk?" You sigh and exit the video, locking your phone before turning towards Yunho and setting your phone onto the table.
"Don't force yourself if you aren't ready to."
"I am, and I'm sorry." He looks at you with those puppy dog eyes and it instantly feels like you have your loving, incredibly sweet and attentive boyfriend back.
"What happened?"
"I don't really know. To be honest, I don't have that great of an explanation. I was just tired and I was really looking forward to seeing you before practice. I couldn't see you then because of work, so I was even more excited to see you after practice and to go on our run together. But, you came later and the whole thing with Hyunjin—" He pauses and shakes his head. "It was so stupid and childish of me. I didn't need to act that way, and I'm so sorry I was such a dick to you over that." You cup his cheek and caress the surface with your thumb.
"You should've just told me, babe."
"It's so dumb, though?" He furrows his brows, mainly at himself.
"Nothing is dumb. Whatever hurts you, hurts me. We're in this together, remember? We're on the same team. I just need you to communicate and be honest, like you always tell me. Okay? I'll do anything to fix it and make it better. I'm your safe space like you are mine."
"I know." He leans into your touch before placing a soft kiss to your palm. "I'll do better."
"We have our bad days and that's okay. It won't make me love you any less. Tell me if you need space or if you need anything from me. I want you to be happy and comfortable."
"I know."
"Okay. And I'm sorry about the food run. I promise I'll keep my end of it next time."
"Wasn't your fault, baby. Nothing could have prevented that." You give him a tiny, toothless smile before kissing the tip of his nose.
"Are we okay?" He nods.
"I'm so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.” He repeats before leaning in to peck you on the lips. He holds the kiss before parting and looking you in the eye, brushing the hair away from your face. He dips in for another kiss— this time, it's deeper. More passionate. His hand comes down to the small of your back as he presses against you, slipping his tongue in to fight for dominance against yours. The kiss is so full of love and neediness, but there's no push or pressure to make anything out of it.
So, Yunho continues to kiss you. Pushing up against you ever so slightly while parting from your lips to leave a trail across your jaw.
Your chin.
Your neck.
Back up to your lips.
He loves the way you softly sigh in content, listening to him repeatedly whisper 'I love you' against your lips. Into your neck. Across your jaw. He loves the way you gently bite onto his bottom lip as a way of asking for more. He loves the way your fingers tug on the ends of his hair, the way you press your lips against his cheek, forehead, nose. The way you caress his cheeks and never let him go.
It's amongst the many on his list of favorite things.
He continues to coo you and praise you in between kisses throughout the night, smiling while hearing your giggles and smothering you with more kisses until you find yourself getting sleepy. He holds you close and sings a soft lullaby, playing with your hair as you drift off to sleep with the cutest smile on your face. He can’t help but admire you, fighting the exhaustion that’s been hitting him all week for a little longer. He fights it until he can’t anymore but fuck it, it’s all worth it.
Because sitting at the very top of his favorites list is you.
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⇢ permanent taglist: @asjkdk @bintificreads @interweab @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs
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Text
Say it with me kids
Andrew never thought he was hallucinating Neil
"you were supposed to be a side effect of the drugs"
His FEELINGS for Neil were supposed to be the side effect that would disappear once he was sober.
"I'm not a hallucination"
Andrew never thought he was, Neil misinterpreting this because Andrew speaks in riddles half the time is acceptable since he canonically has to have everything spelled out for him when it pertains to people's feelings toward him. I.e. being called a friend, thinking Andrew will choose Aaron over him, etc.
"you are a pipe dream"
This is both Andrew correcting Neil and a statement about his feelings toward Neil. A pipe dream is defined as an unrealistic and unattainable goal or an impossible hope. This sentence is as close to a confession of feelings as we get from Andrew. He WANTS.
This is the same scene, mind you, where Andrew says he hates Neil. And that's relevant because in order to hate something you have to care. This entire exchange happens in response to Neil expressing his desire to protect Andrew. When was the last time someone wanted to protect Andrew at their own expense? Insisted that Andrew was important?
"if it means losing you, then no"
Andrew knows Neil is real and here and he Wants him but Andrew is not delusional and knows that wanting things is pointless and only leads to pain.
"you are a pipe dream"
As much as this is a confession, it is also Andrew denying himself what he wants by declaring it impossible. Why hope for something when it's impossible anyway? When Neil finally finds out about Andrew's attraction to him he's shocked.
"you never said anything"
Why would he say anything to Neil or proposition him if it's impossible? Neil has said he doesn't swing and Andrew does not Want.
"nothing will come of it"
Andrew will not ask for something when he knows the answer is no. He's through being disappointed.
"I am self-destructive, not stupid"
For someone self destructive, this sure is an act of self preservation. Andrew won't pursue something pointless. He would rather pine and wait for it to pass than subject himself to trying to hold on to something he cares about. Not again. Never again.
"I know better"
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one of the things I see the most in any fandom space is pearl clutching people saying how “shocked” they are when it turns out a “problematic” ship or a “problematic” character is loved a lot in said fandom.
the most recent example for me would be from this poll where it asks people to vote which ship they like the most, thousands of fans have voted, and the results happen to show the ship that is — according to these people — most problematic has won. needless to say, hundreds of these “noble people who usually harass real people, who just want to ship their little ship in peace, over fictional characters in the name of being morally superior” are so shocked that such a “harmful and problematic” ship is the one that is most liked within the fandom they’re in.
I mean… I don’t know what to tell you, but just because you’re “loud” and you like to “witch hunt” people who enjoy fictional things that you think is Bad, doesn’t mean the ship or the character you deemed Problematic is actually hated by the majority of the fandom you’re in.
sure, you are allowed to hate these ships and these characters for any reason, but other people are allowed to like them. and surprise surprise, the world doesn’t revolve around you and your mindset that Liking Bad Fictional Things Equals Condoning Bad Things in Real Life.
shocking, I know. but most sane people can actually distinguish the differences between fiction and reality. and that’s why people who like fictional villains aren’t actually serial killer in real life.
fandom is and has always supposed to be a safe and fun space in which anyone can like and enjoy whatever they want. it never is, and it’s never supposed to be a courtroom where someone’s moral compass is judged based on how they enjoy Fictional Things. because the whole point of enjoying a ship or liking a fictional character is that it’s fictitious, it’s not real. no one in real life is getting killed because a hot fictional villain is loved by hundreds and thousands of fans.
I hope you feel better soon though 🤍
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kinardscoffee · 1 day
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"This is more than a wonderful platonic relationship between two male friends. Buddie's relationship will be the greatest queer romance tv and film have ever seen."
Guys, that's word for word, an actual statement going around social media.
And I'm not really sure why people can't grasp this concept, but I'm going to say it until I'm fucking blue in the face.
Buck and Eddie are first responders.
And, yeah, that relationship IS more... it IS deeper... but it's not because of a romantic type of love. It's a brotherhood that will be with them for the rest of their lives.
As a first responder, you put your life on the line every time you respond to a call. So, you have to have an insane amount of trust in the people you work with. Will they have my back? Will they search for me just as hard as I'd search for them?
The answer has to be yes, or else things will not work well on the job.
It's why people believe Eddie to be queer coded. He's not. But he does respect those who put their lives on the line to help others and he holds them in high regard. Which is what Buck did the first time they work together. Buck voluntarily goes into an ambulance with a live grenade. Not even a fucking bomb that can be disarmed! A grenade. That's something that Eddie will never forget, and Buck continues to do these things throughout their friendship. For everyone important to him. No questions asked. No favors needed in return.
Onto my next rant.
If Hen wasn't a lesiban... would you ship her and Chim? I bet certain people would, and it pisses me off, to be honest, because people of the opposite sex can be JUST friends as can people of the same sex.
What about Athena and Hen? No one has explicitly said that Athena is straight... it's assumed because of Michael and the kids... the same setup as Eddie... yet would you ship Athena and Hen together???
Because she gave Hen her number after just meeting her... and they discuss their personal lives down to every last detail... but no, that doesn't happen.
Because the root of the obsession is the one thing they fight bucktommy fans on:
You just want two hot guys to kiss.
It's not about representation because the show has had solid queer representation since the first episode.
It's the basic fact that a majority of a fan base got burned for 15 years on a ship in a completely different fandom that they convinced themselves was real only to never get it.
And now, you're basically projecting onto this show because you were "promised" Buddie.
Who promised you this? I have yet to see receipts for this huge promise, and I know I never will.
I'm just really over this entitlement some people seem to have. Watch the show because you like the show. Don't watch it only because you want two characters who are clearly going down different paths to come together. How is that even enjoyable??
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hypnoneghoul · 2 days
Text
Attitude
WC: 2,5K
Relationship: Rain/Phantom
Tags: Aquarium Date, Fluff and Smut, Semi-Public Sex, Groping, Dynamic Switch, Degradation, Dumbification, Bathroom Sex, Name-Calling, Rimming, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Mildly Dubious Consent, Creampie, Coming Untouched
Their date is going well, but Rain’s patience for Phantom’s groping has been running thin for hours. He finally loses it when he grinds his dick against his ass as he bends over a fence. Or Rain and Phantom go on an aquarium date and fuck in the bathroom.
Notes: Commission for @revengeghoulette :3
Read under the cut or on AO3.
Rain wanted to take Phantom out for an aquarium date—or any proper date for that matter—for months now. Between his and Aurora’s summoning and tour there wasn’t much time and they didn’t really know each other well then. The tour itself was too packed and unpredictable and after it finished they all needed some time to recharge. But now, over a year later, the date can finally happen.
Both Phantom and Rain are barely keeping themself from jumping and giggling excitedly, not only at the prospect of seeing all those cute water creatures they’ve been reading and listening about, but also getting to spend some nice time together; go on a real date, like real couples do.
They’ve both got colorful and shiny stickers and maps to be filled with them, with what they’ve already seen—like a checklist. Rain squeezes Phantom’s hand as they walk through the entrance, both grinning.
As they get lost in the dark tunnels—as they get surrounded by darkness, the peaceful sound of water, colorful creatures and each other—they truly get lost in it. It’s brilliant.
Of course at some point one of them gets slightly distracted. Phantom lingers by one fish for a few short moments more than Rain does, and so he waits for him by the next tank. When the quintessence ghoul does turn to him, though, his eyes get caught on Rain’s ass.
That’s when Phantom realizes what pants he’s wearing. It's that pair.
Phantom isn’t religious in the slightest, but he would pray to whatever god sent those pants Rain’s way. His ass was already delicious to look at—and not only—but when he put these on? No one, human or ghoul, could walk past him without staring at his stupidly perfect butt.
The worst thing was that he knew exactly what he was doing, and a glint in his eyes when he saw Phantom’s realization only confirmed it.
Now that Phantom’s noticed, he can’t tear his eyes away from the damn thing. The fish and all the animals are really fascinating and he doesn’t want to waste their time there, but Rain is extremely distracting. And Phantom is a very touchy ghoul.
He tries to be sneaky at first; brushing his hand against him here and there, wrapping an arm around his waist and letting it wander down as if by accident, or gluing himself to him from the back. Just to take a good look at the manta rays, though.
Thankfully, the pants have pockets which—as Phantom figured out some time into their date—are just perfect for him to shove one of his hands into as they walk. Rain grumbles about it, about how it’s not comfortable to walk like that, but it's obvious he enjoys the attention. Of both the quintessence ghoul and other people in the aquarium. Most of the humans wouldn’t have anything nice to say, most likely, but the ghouls absolutely don’t care.
Still, Phantom ends up taking his hand out and sticking to holding hands with Rain. Most of the time, at least, because he absolutely does not miss any opportunity to touch the water ghoul’s ass, maybe even squeeze a little if he’s lucky.
Rain isn’t exactly opposed to that, but at some point it begins to annoy him. Phantom gets distracted, and maybe it’s his own fault for picking those pants to wear, but the quintessence ghoul should be able to behave. Especially in public.
They are enjoying their date, though. The aquarium is huge and full of really interesting animals and Rain and Phantom would stay there for ages if they could.
Thankfully they can take pictures.
They take a lot of them; normal ones of the creatures, selfies, and candid shots of each other. Phantom will end up printing a ton of them out and adding to his already covered wall to admire every day. Maybe he'll give some out to their packmates, too.
He thinks he’s got a favorite one, though. Rain stretching with his arms over his head and eyes closed—with a sliver of skin peeking out from under the hem of his shirt—and a fish that looks just like him in his aquatic form right behind him in the background. The water ghoul also has one that he favors, of Phantom bending back with a huge smile and fitting perfectly to the curve of the water tunnel to look at a huge sea turtle swimming right over him.
They kiss in that same tunnel just as a whale shark swims by them, asking a nice old lady—the only other person there at the moment—to take a picture for them. It turns out surprisingly well for how her hands were shaking.
It’s perfect and they’re both as close to heaven as any ghoul can ever get.
But even though their date is going well and they’re having fun, the water ghoul’s patience for the other’s groping has been running thin for hours. He finally loses it when Phantom all but grinds his dick against his ass as he bends over a fence to look down into one of the open pools where a couple of otters are swimming happily.
They’re nearly at the very end of the aquarium anyway.
Rain growls as he swiftly turns around—not caring for humans all around them, just as Phantom doesn’t—and grabs the other’s wrist. He squeezes just hard enough to be painful and drags him along the line on the floor leading to the end and the bathrooms. Phantom trips and curses under his breath, but can’t deny he’s got a nice view from just behind Rain like this.
The next thing he knows he’s being thrown shoulder first into a swing bathroom door, “Ow!”
“Shut the fuck up,” Rain spits and even though Phantom’s instincts tell him to obey, he think he’s got a better idea. He definitely has a better idea, he just has to wait for the right moment.
The stalls turn out to be big and actually going down to the very floor, and Rain couldn’t be more pleased with it. He wouldn’t, of course, mind getting some additional…ears, here and there—he’s an exhibitionist at heart—but what he wouldn’t want was for them to get thrown out and banned from the place. The aquarium is awesome.
He pushes Phantom into a stall at the very end of a long line of doors and quickly flicks the lock before pressing him against the wall, chest to back. “You just had to piss me off, yeah? Couldn’t have had a nice moment like normal fucking people without you acting like a whore let out into the public?”
“You know I get bored easily,” Phantom bites back and Rain snaps his—suddenly unglamored—teeth right next to his ear. He grabs his arm and yanks it back to spin the quintessence ghoul around and shove him down onto his knees. He goes down without much of a fight, just like he does for Dewdrop on stage, and Rain doesn’t notice how…suspicious that is in these circumstances.
The water ghoul leaves him there and starts to fumble with his zipper, nearly ripping it open. He would if it were any other pair of pants. Phantom watches with hungry eyes and waits and just when Rain is about to pull the waistband down just enough to get his cock out, the quintessence ghoul goes for it.
He grabs his hips and turns him—so rapidly Rain loses his footing—to face the wall. On instinct he puts his hands to brace himself and he’s so surprised by the sudden switch he can do nothing but whine as Phantom drags his jeans down to his very ankles.
“You fucking wanted this,” the quintessence ghoul laughs. “If anyone’s a whore in here it’s you, Rainy.”
Rain’s brain immediately gets fuzzy.
The sweet whine Phantom gets from him as an answer pulls another cruel laugh out of him and he stays on his knees, but shuffles closer. He knocks Rain’s legs further apart—as much as the pants and underwear around his ankles allow—and goes right for his ass. The water ghoul gasps against the tiled wall when Phantom grabs his cheeks and starts kneading.
“B–batsy, come on,” he mumbles and, only proving his earlier words, pushes his hips back; suddenly very eager.
“Whore, as I said,” the other says quietly, more to himself than Rain. “I bet you’re soaked already, let’s see–”
With that he spreads him and hums—Rain can’t gather if it’s in approval, or the opposite. The water ghoul really is soaked already, his hole truly drooling slick. A minute more with his underwear up and he’d have a sizable wet patch for Phantom to mock.
That may, or may not, give him an idea for later.
For now, though, he leans in to taste him—licking a stripe from his taint up to where his tail would be if he wouldn’t be glamored. Rain moans wantonly at that. His legs shake already.
The quintessence ghoul notices and grabs him just below the knees to gift him a tiny bit of stabilization before he truly dives in.
He shoves his face between Rain’s cheeks and licks into him sloppily, both because he likes it like that and because a whore like him deserves to be licked and fucked messy. The water ghoul cries out, letting out whimpers one after the other as he holds onto the wall for dear life. His cock is dripping like a faucet right onto said wall and Rain can’t even feel disgusted about his tip touching the—most likely filthy—tile.
“Phantom, please, please, I–lemme,” he doesn’t really know what he’s begging for. For him to stop, to never stop, to cum, or whatever else; Phantom isn’t listening to him anyway. He thinks about unglamoring his tongue to reach even deeper, to fuck Rain up even more. Maybe with an additional spark of quintessence, to really hit him.
Phantom pulls back to look up at him, though, and Rain doesn’t seem to be needing any more messing up. He’s already absolutely blissed out.
He licks into him once again—just to indulge himself and feel the water ghoul clenching around his tongue some more, before he completely moves away. Rain lets out a little panicked noise, but Phantom isn’t gone for long.
He shoves three fingers inside him with not much preamble, more to pull yet another sinful cry out of him than to test the stretch. Phantom curls the digits and all but abuses Rain’s prostate with his fingertips for a longer moment, until the water ghoul’s looking like he’s just about to fold and melt into a puddle of goop on the floor.
The quintessence ghoul stands up, then, opens his own pants, and pulls his dick out, stroking it once or twice for good measure, before he folds himself over the other’s back to growl right into his ear, “Shouldn’t have worn these pants, you were just asking for it with ‘em.”
Phantom slams his cock into Rain’s ass balls deep right away and if he thought the water ghoul’s noises were pretty earlier, this one was just divine. 
He takes little—if any—regard to the other’s comfort or pleasure, fucking his slick hole with abandon; simply chasing his own release. He’ll make it up to him later, and he knows Rain will make him pay for this, too, but for now Phantom can only enjoy himself.
His claws are glamored, so he doesn’t draw blood, but he still grips Rain’s waist with enough force to bruise. He knows it will and he can’t wait to admire his marks later.
Rain is whining and moaning and crying against the wall as he claws at it. His cheek gets squeezed against the tile with every move of the quintessence ghoul and Rain can barely breathe. He doesn’t have enough brain left in him to drop his glamor and flare his gills back to life.
He pants with his tongue out like a dog, but Phantom’s eyes get dragged to his own, and he grins when tears start to flow down the bright red of Rain’s cheeks.
“Awww, Rainy,” he coos with faux sympathy and kindness. “Too much for your stupid brain, yeah? Don’t worry, I’ll give you something a dumb whore will understand.”
The water ghoul moans so loud it echoes through the bathroom and slams back into Phantom’s ears so hard it nearly hurts. Rain’s ass grips his cock like a vice and with one more slam of his hips the other realizes that he’s just cum all over the stall wall completely untouched.
“Slut,” Phantom grunts out once again before burying himself in him as far as he’ll go. He shoves his face into the back of the water ghoul’s neck and his glamored fangs itch to bite and suck a bruise into that fair skin. He shudders as Rain keeps wildly clenching around him and he can’t hold his orgasm back any more.
Phantom cums with a groan and Rain echoes it at the feeling of getting pumped full. He’s barely standing—held up mostly by the other ghoul, though he, too, sags as he comes down from his high.
He pulls out, breathing heavily, and bends down to pull Rain’s pants back up right away. The water ghoul can only whimper with confusion as he feels warm cum slowly leaking out of him and into his underwear. Phantom grabs him by the shoulders and turns him so they’re face to face.
“Damn, you’re a wreck,” he laughs at Rain’s fucked out state. He wipes his tears and smooths down his clothes and hair, putting him back together as best as he can.
“Phantom, the–the…can I clean up–” the water ghoul murmurs, but the other doesn’t let him finish.
“Nuh-uh. You’re carrying it back home so I can fuck you all sloppy again,” Phantom tells him and the casualty twists Rain’s insides. “Maybe I’ll invite the others, tell them exactly how our little date went because of how much of a whore you are.”
He takes off his flannel shirt—a bit sweaty now—and hands it to him by the sleeves. Rain takes it with shaky hands and looks at the other with a questioning look, unsure why he needs it.
“Around your waist. Time to cover yourself up,” Phantom explains and Rain nods with burning cheeks as he does, indeed, tie it around his waist.
After a moment of staring at him with still hungry eyes, the quintessence ghoul speaks again. “Unless you do want everyone to see your pretty ass leaking my cum through these slutty jeans.”
Rain mewls pitifully and looks at the other with a stare worth a kicked puppy. Phantom softens a bit and wraps an arm around his waist to bring him close and offer some comfort. He really was mean and rough.
“Come on, Rainy,” he whispers and kisses his cheek with gentleness he’s been lacking just moments before. “I’ll get you another otter plushie, okay? I love you.”
Rain smiles weakly as he nods. “Love you, too.”
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