#the fandom gave me a place where i felt accepted

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

do you support jkr? /genq

because i really like your content but am a little unnerved so i would like to clarify so i can put my mind at ease

Thank you for asking anon maggot and here you shall have my answer (I have to say I might get a tad bit emotional because this is very very very important to me):

FUCK JKR WE DO NOT SUPPORT JKR OR HER TRANSPHOBIA ON THIS BLOG. I FEEL LIKE I NEED TO YELL THIS LOUDER BUT I CANNOT POSSIBLY.

Fuck JKR, and fuck everything she did to tear away the safe space her stories had made from queer people everywhere. Fuck her for using her position of influence to endanger the lives of a community that's already so vulnerable.

I'm a trans man, and while I refuse to let what she did take away the joy I've found in the queer parts of the Harry Potter fandom (because it exists, god bless fandom), I will never spend a day without feeling sick at the thought of how much grief she's brought to me and queer people everywhere.

[adding an edit here to say that there is an explicit discussion of transphobia below, so content warning, skip the next two paragraphs if you need to]

It's really sad that I understand completely why you asked that question, anon maggot. Because every time I enjoy someone's content or a creator, I'm always, always wondering but what if, but what if they hate my community, but what if they're against people like me, I don't know if I can feel safe here.

I never know if I can feel safe anywhere. I have to sit and listen to people who love me and I'm not out to, as they talk about how trans people shouldn't have basic human rights. It's a sickening feeling to know how if I said just one sentence, people who claimed to love me, the families of my friends, would immediately just... turn on me. Invalidate me at best, and I'd rather not think about the worst.

Please know that this blog supports all queer people (yes that includes people who are aroace spec, of course it does, that should not be discourse that is happening at all, but it is, so yeah).

You are all safe here. I will do everything possible to make sure you know that.

[azrielbrainrot]

I Laugh Like Me Again... She Laughs Like You

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Description: Whether in the solitude of his room or surrounded by family, all Azriel can think about is you. He would give anything to hold you one more time.

Warnings: Angst, Mourning, mention of suicide

Word Count: 3652

Notes: I don't even know where this came from. I was listening to sweet music by hozier and thought "what if I gave Azriel more trauma". The idea popped into my head and it basically wrote itself. I can't believe I have to say this but with this fandom I'm not risking it: this wasn't written to hate on Elain (or any other character) or incite anyone else to do so. Keep your stupid fights off my post, please and thank you. Hope you enjoy!

Part 2

Another family dinner at the river house meant another night of watching everyone around him happy and in love. Azriel didn't think of himself as egotistical, would never think the love his brothers are experiencing is undeserved either, but it reminds him of a time where he was the only one in the Inner Circle with a partner, of when his brothers were the ones confessing to him how jealous they were of how he had found someone that loved him so much, of a time he never thought would have an end. It reminds him of you.

He looks himself in the mirror as he buttons up the navy shirt, trying to ignore the vacant room behind him. If you were here with him you would have been making jokes about his insistence on keeping the blue theme going in his clothes even though he swears he doesn't think too much about what to wear or his appearance in general.

On a good day, you'd be helping him with the small buttons right now, with shadows swirling around your legs and looking up at him the way you knew would take his breath away every time. On an even better day, he'd have your back pressed against his chest, his fingers inside your familiar heat, the other hand wrapped around your throat so you could watch him play with your body, panting his name and clawing at his arm, pleading with him to keep going, to let you touch him. He'd be late for an entirely different reason, not for getting held up talking to his spies, and then getting lost in his memories.

Sensing his thoughts, his meddling shadows move to his desk, filtering into the drawer they knew held a small velvet box. The dark wisps carefully picked it up and set it on top of the dark wood. Leaving it there and moving back to their original places around the darkened room, letting him decide for himself if he wanted to open it or not.

It had been a while since the last time he touched it, busy as he was these days. There were times he would sit and look at it every day, sometimes without even daring to open it and look inside. But there were also times where even the sight of the navy velvet would suddenly suffocate him with the reminder of your sweet scent, one he would never be able to smell again. It would make him hide the box at the back of his drawer, the back of his mind.

Over the last few years, his reactions to it had gotten milder, an unwilling acceptance of the fact that he would never see you again allowed him to reminisce on the happy memories you had together, even the sad ones, every little fight you had seemed so inconsequential now, he'd give anything to be able to have any moment with you back, to hear you say his name one more time.

He walks to the desk, only hesitating for a beat before grabbing and opening the box. His heart throbs as he stares at the ring sitting inside, thumbing at the empty space left behind by it on his finger instinctively. He had never liked rings, didn't like anything that brought attention to his hands or rubbed against the rough skin but the moment you slid the silver ring into his finger it felt right, he had never wanted to take it off. Azriel would wear a ring on each finger if it showed the world he was yours.

He wore the ring for an entire decade after you died, even after all hope that you could still be alive had left him, he couldn't bring himself to let go of it, to let go of you. His mother had been the one to tell him he needed to stop wearing it, that holding onto it, onto the past would only bring him more heartache. He could still hear her begging him with tears in her eyes, not bearing to see her son in such a state, but he had only actually taken it off when Rhys was taken by Amarantha.

He had thrown the ring into the Sidra that night. He's not sure if it had been anger, frustration or simply hopelessness that drove him to it in that moment. He was tired of not being able to protect anyone, tired of losing his people, the people he never thought he would even find when he was just a boy sitting in a dark humid cell. It must have been that boy's pain, still inside him, that drove him to act like that. If it hadn't been for his shadows immediately flying after it he would have lost it, wouldn't have this reminder of a happy time sitting in front of him right now, it had helped him ground himself more than once during the years following that night. His shadows had saved him from himself once again.

He closes the box gently, rubbing at the smooth texture of the velvet, trying not to let himself get lost in your memory and the bitterness that followed at the injustice of it all. Your marriage had only lasted a little over a decade, he's had to live with your ghost for much longer than that now. Still, he knows he won't forget that time no matter how many more years he lives, and, even if it's another five centuries, he knows he'll still wish he had had the chance to spend them all with you.

Some of the pain has dulled, most days at least, but the guilt still eats at him. He should have known something was going to happen, should have reached you sooner, should have told someone to go with you, should have gone himself, should have been the one to die in your place. The millions of possibilities will likely invade his brain until his last breath, after which he'll finally be able to see you again. That was another thought that had consumed him far too often in the beginning. If it wasn't for his mother, his brothers and Mor, if it weren't for the pain it would cause them, he would have taken Truth Teller to his neck just for the chance to see you one more time.

Azriel? His wings go rigid and he tightens his hold on the box at the sudden intrusion. He tries to push his thoughts as far back into his mind as he can before lowering his mental shields, almost letting out a sigh of relief at finding them in place, hoping his brother couldn't get a glimpse of his thoughts. He hands the box to his shadows so they can safely place it back inside his drawer. Are you still coming, brother?

Yes. He moves back to the mirror and finishes buttoning his shirt while trying to keep his tone as nonchalant as possible. However, the hesitation on the other side tells him Rhys sensed exactly what was holding him up in his room, he knows him better than anyone after all.

Hurry then. We're all waiting for you. Azriel closes his walls as soon as he feels his brother's absence in his mind. He knows they miss you too. They had welcomed you with open arms and considered you part of the family after their marriage. Everyone in the Inner Circle took a big hit when you went missing. He will never forget Cassian's face when he arrived to see Azriel kneeling down in a pool of your blood, with no body to be found. His brother wore his heart on his sleeve and it had shattered that night. There were countless sleepless nights for everyone following that moment.

They all threw themselves at finding you in any way they could. There was enough blood on the floor to tell them you had died but none of them wanted to believe it. Azriel talked to every single one of his spies multiple times, ordering them to track every movement in their respective areas. Rhys sent letters to every ally he had and then joined Cassian and Mor in searching every corner of Prythian personally. Even Amren, ever the logical emotionless one, searched for you with every means she could, contacting friends the spymaster didn't even know existed. But, one by one, they all had to accept the truth, Azriel ending up being the most hesitant to.

He had long since killed the attackers, putting them through as much pain as possible for as long as he could keep them alive, making them regret ever touching you. But that didn't help with the gaping hole in his chest, nothing helped. They didn't know how to find your body either. Rhys looked through every corner of their minds and only found them leaving you behind, bleeding on the cold ground.

Rhys refused to show him the memory, no matter how much he begged him to let him see you one more time. Now he knows his brother was just trying to protect him, not wanting that to be Azriel's last memory of you, with the amount of blood left behind he knew you couldn't have been in good shape, but at the time he lashed out at his brother like he had never done before, probably would have killed him in blind rage if it hadn't been for Cassian trying to hold him back and if Rhys wasn't Rhys. Thinking back he should have thanked him instead, for holding onto such a painful memory and keeping it to himself so no one else had to suffer from it.

Even if he couldn't see you again, he still wishes that he had your body to bury at least. Azriel doesn't know how the Mother could be so cruel as to not only let you die so soon, so painfully without at least letting him find your body so he could put you to rest next to your parents' graves. It would also give him a place to talk to you, to feel as close to you as possible.

The pain almost came back in full when Rhysand first told him about Feyre. Jealousy had reared its ugly head at the fondness in his brother's gaze, the slight tint to his cheeks at just saying her name. He was happy for Rhys, especially after everything he'd been through, but that happiness couldn't hold a candle to the pain he felt. He remembers the night he confided in his brothers about the lovely female he had met, how she had told him she loved him, it had been much like that one.

To make matters worse, the first thing he remembered when Rhys told him about his mate was a stupid bet the two of you had made - you had been adamant that Cassian, as sweet as he is, would be the next to get married, Azriel had voted for Rhys, one of his many conquests were bound to work out one day. He won and yet he didn't feel victorious at all. He couldn't even tell you of your loss, see how pouty you get when it happens, ever the sore loser. Didn't even remember the prize but there was no way for you to give it to him now either way. What hurt the most was that he couldn't even tell you his brother had found his mate. These were the best news in over a century and he just wanted to share them with you, wanted to share everything with you.

He takes another look at the mirror with a small sigh, straightening his wings and making sure his face doesn't give anything away before calling to his shadows. He feels them wrap around him slowly, giving him some comfort before taking him directly to the river house.

“Almost thought you weren't coming.” He was still half covered in shadows when he heard Cassian's voice. Everyone was standing around talking to each other, waiting on him. The guilt was tugging at his heart strings again. Why would he ever feel like he needed more than a family that loved him? Who was he to think this wasn't enough for him? It was something he could only dream of when he was younger.

“He's here now. That's all that matters,” the smile Feyre gave him was warmer than usual and her hand lingered on his shoulder for a second too long. Azriel looks over to Rhys, finding him already looking at him, studying his face. He had told his mate of whatever he sensed in his mind then. He hoped neither of them brought it up at least, now or later. What good would admit he misses his dead wife do? No one can bring you back to him.

“Finally. I'm starving.” Cassian clapped his shoulder as he passed by him on the way to the already set table, sitting down immediately. Everyone followed in his footsteps, greeting Azriel and finding their seats. Seems he really had kept them waiting.

Conversation picked back up naturally and he let himself fall into the usual rhythm of these dinners, letting his body relax around his family, forgetting about his old life for the moment. He walked over to the already set table and took his seat next to Elain, as it usually was these days. The seating arrangements had moved around a bit over the last years to accommodate not only the new additions to their little circle but also the relationships in them. He used to always sit next to Cassian but now had given the seat up to his beautiful mate. It left him next to Elain most times since they were the only single fae at the table.

Elain gave him a soft smile as he sat down and he nodded at her with a smile of his own. They had been getting closer ever since she was turned to fae and started living in Velaris. Her quiet nature quickly drew him to her, feeling at ease almost immediately with the middle Archeron sister. But he had to have been blind not to see the way she looked at him, not to notice the enamored smile she gave him.

Sometimes he let himself wonder if things could work between them. She had a mate but it was clearer with each passing day that she didn't feel anything for the male tied to her. It was also obvious how well Azriel and Elain got along, fitting into each other's lives almost seamlessly. He didn't love her but couldn't say seeing himself fall for the lovely female was such a far-fetched idea. She was a beautiful and kind fae, loving her would probably be as easy as breathing.

When everyone had been made aware of the mating bonds, he had even considered if the Mother had made a mistake. His two brothers had ended up with two of the sisters after all. Now he can see he was just desperate for a bond like theirs. In truth, he wouldn't even know what he would have done if Elain had truly been his mate. Would he finally put you behind him? Would he have thrown the ring away again, for good this time? He knows he couldn't bring himself to even with the power of a mating bond. You were etched deep into his skin just like the bargain marks inked into his shoulders.

As the dinner moved on and they made their way to the sofas in the sitting room, his family was already more than lively. Mor had busted out one of Rhysand's old wine bottles, setting the mood for the rest of the night. Azriel had completely relaxed by then, letting himself enjoy their company, his shadows retreating almost completely around the room. Finally having some reprieve from the particularly insistent thoughts that were plaguing his mind today.

Cassian was telling a story he had heard a thousand times now but he still laughed along with everyone else. Listening to Cass tell the story so many times wouldn't make the fact that he had flown straight into a river any less funny. Azriel even remembered the following part, the one Cass doesn't include in the story which was after they pulled him out and he had gotten sick for a week, making him miss practice and lose every spar with him and Rhys for the next months.

Even old stories had a new life with new people around, it was the first time the sisters heard this one, judging by the slight tint to Nesta's cheeks as she laughed at her mate and how hard Feyre was clutching at Rhys' arm to ground herself. Even Elain was laughing hard enough that her body was shaking. Her laugh was soft and melodic, a lovely sound really, but it suddenly opened a familiar pit in his stomach. It reminded him of you. She wasn't quite as loud and her eyes didn't immediately water like yours but the way she raised her hand to her face was similar. And just like that the illusion of happiness he had created shattered.

She was nothing like you but he still found you in every thing she did, in everything anyone did. He couldn't go to half of the city's bakeries and shops without thinking of you and every moment you spent there. He had even changed rooms in every one of Rhysand's houses, not bearing to sleep in the same bed you had held him in. Everyone in the Inner Circle had learned to avoid certain topics, certain stories in fear they would remind him of you. Even your name was rarely mentioned unless he did so first or strictly necessary. Every thought of getting over you was nothing more than wishful thinking. It was like his entire soul was begging him to go to you, but you weren't anywhere in this world.

This had to be one of the worst parts of his routine lately, having to take extra care to school his features when spending time with his brothers and their mates. If his face showed any sign of how much he missed you, how much he wished he could hug you to him just like they can do with them, they would immediately look at him with pain in their eyes, pain for what he lost and will never get back.

It had taken too long to get used to how differently they treated him after what happened. He had to start a fight to get them to stop treating him like he could break at any second when it was the truth. They knew it as well as he did, but they also knew that they had to let Azriel mourn in his own way, that there was nothing they could do besides stay by his side.

You weren't mates - maybe the pain he feels would never compare to what his brothers would go through if their mates ever met the same fate as you - but that had never mattered to him. His soul sang for you the same way he sang for his shadows, you were written into his very being just like they were. And, most importantly, there wasn't a single fiber in his body that wanted to live without you.

Even a mate could never erase you from his memory, even if you had been alive. He doubts if a mating bond had snapped between you two at the time, you would have gotten any deeper into him than you already were. He can't imagine loving you, wanting you more than he already did was possible.

He felt his shadows move to him, almost sending them away thinking they were coming to comfort him again, hiding him from the world as usual. Their urgency gave them away, and by the way Rhysand's body tensed across from him he also had noticed something amiss.

“What happened?” The High Lord's voice cut through the atmosphere immediately, everyone looked to him for an explanation and got ready for any possibility. His entire body stood still when his shadows told him they felt someone winnowing into the townhouse.

“Someone's in the townhouse,” he stood up as he spoke, sending some of his shadows out to find out as much as they could and the rest around Velaris to check if there were any other disturbances.

“Who could get past the wards?” He felt a shield around them, Rhys had likely set it up around his house. Cassian's siphons were flickering red as they all prepared for what could come next. Velaris was more than well protected, especially after the attacks before the war, but the High Lord's homes were nearly impossible to get into uninvited, Azriel himself had helped make sure of it.

“I don't know,” he held onto Truth Teller as he waited for his shadows or his High Lord and Lady to find something. His shadows were being strangely lax about the whole situation, maybe this was someone who knew of a way to go around his gift, keep them distracted.

It took longer than usual to receive a response from them, making him and everyone around him more concerned by the second. By now everyone was donning a sword or weapon of some sort, only waiting on more information before splitting up to keep Velaris safe and find the intruders.

When his shadows finally appeared they wasted no time rushing to his ear, at last sensing his urgency in the matter. Their answer was one nothing could have prepared him for, his heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest.

His shadows came back carrying a once familiar tune. They came back singing your name.

[dr-spectre]

I saw this really great thread on twitter by Grungygrim and it definitely highlights my thoughts and frustrations with the story of these games and the Splatoon fandom as a whole. (be forewarned, i get really tilted in this blog post fyi.)

I made a blog post about 2 weeks ago where i said that i was happy that the narrative online that "Callie is an idiot who got kidnapped and then brainwashed/mind controlled against her consent" is going away. Unfortunately I'm gonna have to retract a lot of the stuff i said. I'm still seeing, TILL THIS DAY THAT NARRATIVE ONLINE! IM STILL SEEING SO MUCH MISINFORMATION AND IT MAKES ME REALLYYYY ANGRYYYY!!! As a big fan of Callie, people completely outright ignoring her character arc THAT WAS SET UP SINCE SPLATOON 1 BY THE WAY!!! and not even bothering to look at outside sources for more information and lore genuinely pisses me the fuck off to no end.

No, hypnosis is NOT MIND CONTROL/BRAINWASHING! I DONT WANNA KEEP REPEATING IT! YOU CAN LOOK IT UP! if a person is genuinely uncomfortable and doesn't wish to take the suggestions to heart while hypnotized, THEY WONT DO SO! THEY STILL HAVE CONTROL! Yes, Marie did say "kidnapped" in some of her dialogue, but from her perspective, OF COURSE SHE'S GONNA THINK CALLIE GOT KIDNAPPED! She's known to worry about Callie all the time and ruminate about her, of course she's gonna think of the worst case scenario, doesn't mean she's right though. Was Octavio still in the wrong for hypnotizing Callie in the first place and allowing her to bring out her darker traits more easily? YEAH! NO SHIT! HE'S A BAD DUDE! Not a totally evil person but he has made some awful decisions out of desperation for his people. Why do you think he was so quick to help out the New Squidbeak Splatoon in the finale of Splatoon 3? His people got turned into fluffy monsters by a giant bear, he's all about helping his people.

Hell look at how Callie acts while under the Hypnoshades, she decorates Octo Canyon and her peppy and energetic self is still in tact even during the final boss, she's just more mean and violent. Callie was in an emotional and mentally unwell situation due to her overworking herself and being incredibly lonely as her relationship with Marie was damaged overtime. Callie accepted the suggestions of DJ Octavio and heard him out, AS SAID BY HER FROM THE RELATIONSHIP CHART! She wasn't forced into anything. She didn't suffer "sexual abuse" from Octavio by being forced into skippy clothing as some psychos say online, if she didn't want to wear that outfit she wouldn't cause hypnosis is NOT MIND CONTROL!! I hate having to repeat this over and over again, i hate how the developers basically rushed and ruined this interesting villain arc with stupid shades, only to try and hastily fix it later with an obscure post about A GOD DAMN RELATIONSHIP CHART THAT PEOPLE EITHER DONT KNOW ABOUT OR DONT CARE TO LOOK AT BECAUSE THEY SEE SPLATOON AS SOMETHING FOR KIDS AND TO NOT GIVE ANY CARE TOWARDS!!!!!!!!

I made a god damn giant blog explaining Callie in Splatoon 2 because i felt so frustrated about how my favorite character in the series was being treated and i tried to salvage the story that the writers tried to make. The way that people made her situation worse by saying she got kidnapped and forcibly ""mind controlled/brainwashed"" actually gave me chest pain, thinking about that kind of scenario for Callie actually hurts me... Heck i cant even listen to the Splatoon 2 stage music or final boss music because hearing her reversed vocals makes me feel uncomfortable due to the misinformation online. I hated all the misinformation and i wanted it to stop. HELL EVEN IN GIANT TIMELINE VIDEOS WHERE PEOPLE DO TONS OF RESEARCH THEY STILL GET IT WRONG!! UGHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!! i guess it'll still be the common and popular notion that Callie is an idiot that got kidnapped and then ""mind controlled"" by some shades... oh well... ugh...

I'm sorry if I'm coming off as really angry, i am. It's just, my brain is really hyperfixated on this squid and she means a lot to me. Seeing the way the fandom as well as the writers treat her makes me really mad. I hope i can find some peeps who feel the same way as i do. Misinformation is so frustrating man... i dont even wanna get into the Octarians because that's a whole other can of worms... anyways im done ranting. have a good night or good morning wherever you live y'all.

[lizaluvsthis]

SMG4: The PuzzleVision Movie

[SPOILER ALERT and more into the ship]

VERY.

MAJOR.

SPOILER.

PLEASE.

Its funny enough how i predicted spongebob squarepants in my theory

(It even also has the ship I had a true pairing with. Squidbob.)

When old fandom meets the new fandom I'm currently in be like-

I see how they got each other's backs...

Suprised that SMG4 has done this- because last time we remembered, Smg3 is the one who comes risking his own life to save his buddy.

Now it's giving the DEJA VU moment but this time SMG3 is the one who gets saved by smg4.

"You saved me!"

Notice how different they act around their partner when they get saved?

Smg3 during wotfi 2023 AND in his recolor design during the 10 year anniversary.

He himself has pushed those things away or pushing out the soft stuff saying— "yeah yeah" or "I'd like to see you die otherwise"

BUT HIM? He still couldn't accept himself with the softness he's gained alot. He still calls his FRIEND. Baka.

(Hah idiot.)

One thing to say that it WAS AWKWARD SMG4 just looks at our guy. My man... my homie... buddy chum pal old fella amigo-

You. Are not. Okay. My man. (GAY PANIC SAYS OTHERWISE)

I know its not relevant but I drew this back in march 25 believe it or not I may have predicted this as well

Me and my brain goofing around telling me what if the gays did do that.

Anyways- back when Three lets Four carry him, as much as they both hate each other they atleast had to do it somehow inorder to escape.

Yet four could ever care less and he was still grabbing his waist at that time, and Three not giving a sh-t just looking up at the sky noticing how pretty it is.

Three... DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHOSE GRABBING YOUR WAIST RIGHT NOW??????????

Two siblings getting both of their fingers broken.

And its even in the right hand! Since Mario is immune to broken bones, Meggy however gets to be on the same place Mario has been in IGBP. NOW she gets to feel the pain what Mario may had felt.

-

And thus at the near end where SMG4 hits PV with a meat hammer or aka luigi- HE LITERALLY KICKED THE HEAD OUT- AND THE ANIMATION THAT MADE IT SO SERIOUS.

I think I understand his anger so much from this clip that everyone would agree.

Ever since PuzzleVision gave back everyones conciousness- he showed the Western Spaghetti and IGBP act of the crew on how emotional things became.

"And SMG4... who knew you could play an antagonist so well! High ranks for me!"

He felt so guilty. He looked down. He knew what PV was talking about.

By an antagonist' actions.

Just like how he was possessed by the goop itself, he started going crazy during that time and he let his anger get on to him.

SMG4 DID NOT WANT TO BE THE BAD GUY.

He was so scared and felt pity to himself because of that. And it was all ruined because of PV himself.

Smg4 didn't want to remember what happened during that encounter and never will.

Besides on the deal with PuzzleVision. SMG4 and Meggy's traumatic experiences weren't talked enough from their problems during the movie.

So much things are happening from the show that no one is talking much about it while watching.

"Is... is it over?"

Smg4 proceedingly cried emotionally because of the torture. He was apparently too blind enough to notice now that he realized it was him to blame. He was so dumb enough and so angry that he could cry.

Three didn't even slapped him or shut him off, he lets him cry over there due to the fact that he may need to release his emotions.

Because he knows how sentimental Smg4 became when it involves with dealing his own emotions that HE couldn't even give an advice for. But could only stay quiet.

Because at what hell of a state would he even say to SMG4 when they're trying to escape from this hell of a nightmare?

Four still doesn't accept himself, and neither does Smg3 too. From everything that happened.

Our boys are suffering enough and its hurting us like hell.

[velaryqns]

ok awesome :) could i please request a james wilson x fem!reader where reader is a young (of age) nurse or intern at the hospital and her and james have been seeing each other but not really labeled it, and she finds out she’s pregnant? maybe her and james are excited but someone at the hospital points out their age gap and james’ failed marriages and is just an asshole about it idk. feel free to write whatever you’d like! thank you so much <3

I DONT CARE,

Fandom: House MD

Pairing: James Wilson x Female Reader

Warnings: pregnancy, age gap (reader is in her 20s, James would be in his 30s/40s), slight angst, divorce, people being assholes, Greg House being Greg House, there’s a little time jump: sorry not sorry.

Notes: you best believe I was quick to write this. I love me some James Wilson and he doesn’t get enough love. I had so much fun writing this pen.

You sat in silence, the test in front of you as you stared at it. Cuddy had sent you home because of how sick you had felt throughout the day. And it wasn’t getting better no matter how much you insisted. You had made sure to tell your James goodbye before you headed out to return to your apartment.

James said he would be at your place later that night, and you accepted this. He knew you hadn’t felt well, and only checked to see if you needed him to bring you anything; you didn’t.

You hadn’t voiced concerns to James about the possibility of being pregnant. When you’d first started getting close to him people made sure to inform you of his bad luck with relationships. He’d been divorced three times and his girlfriend before you had passed away in a horrible bus accident. Hospital staff continuously told you there would be no reason to have a relationship with James, this included his best friend: Greg House.

So far, you’d been grateful you didn’t listen to them.

You could hear the keys jingle in the door and only turned toward it to greet him. James walked in and the smell of takeout food was comforting, you hoped you could keep it down.

“Hi hon,” you called out, rising to your feet and grabbing the takeout bags. James insisted on keeping the bags until you leveled him with a playful glare that admittedly flustered him every time it was sent his direction. His feeble arguments failed and you took the bag with you to the table, setting it down and glancing over at the test, “I think I found out why I’ve been so sick.”

“Oh really?” James came up behind you, an arm wrapping around his waist as he took a glance at what you were staring at. His eyes went wide and a small smile formed on his face as he turned you to face him, “Oh honey, this is amazing!”

“Are you sure?” You questioned, laughing at his excitement and wrapping your arms around his neck, “Only Cuddy and House know about our relationship…”

“And that’s all that matters,” he reassured you, his lips gently meeting your own, “Let’s eat and head to bed, we can get you to a doctor and then tell Cuddy.”

You hummed, lowering you face to rest on his shoulders while he gently rubbed your back. You did just as James had suggested, and the next morning he had scheduled you an appointment. He made sure it wasn’t at the hospital you both worked at, knowing that the news would get out faster if that was the case.

James reluctantly went off to work, being Head of Oncology never rests, and you headed to the appointment on your own. You had a reason for why the father wasn’t there, and sat through your appointment in mostly silence.

Once you had your ultrasound pictures in hand you made your way back to the hospital. You checked in with Cuddy, then ventured to James’ office. You were already pulling the photos out when you saw Cameron, Taub, and Foreman standing in the room. You quickly slammed the pictures to your chest, eyes wide as you looked at James.

His eyes landed on the photos, then he gave a small nod, “I will handle House in a moment, could I please have a moment alone in my office?”

The team glanced toward you, but then filed out and left you in silence. Once you were certain they were far enough away, you walked to his desk and set the pictures on your desk. A smile spread across his face at the sight, and he lifted it up, “This is amazing.”

Time passed and to say the both of you were excited was an understatement. While you still hadn’t put a label onto your relationship, you two were still going to welcome a child into the world. James insisted on you moving in with him, and you jumped at the opportunity. Cuddy and House were the first to know, then House’s team, and then word slowly traveled by ear around the hospital.

You were sitting at the nurses station, trying to relax in between patients. You ran your hand over your small bump, glancing up as House limped in with a paper clip. Foreman and Chase were close behind him.

“Clinic hours?” You questioned. Greg hummed, bored and nodding as he continued past you and into a room. You stood and grabbed a stack of files to figure out which patients were his or not. Knowing that most nurses couldn’t tolerate House, you automatically fell into the position of being the nurse to help him.

“Still can’t believe you’re the girl who got Wilson to settle,” Foreman muttered. You raised a brow in confusion, “We all know how relationships go for him. Who says adding a baby into the mix will be any different?”

You were silent for a moment, pulling your hands away from the files and watching Foreman, “James and I have been perfectly fine, thank you.”

You returned to your tasks, but Chase wanted to add onto the doubts, “And what about the age difference? Everyone knows about it now. Doesn’t it concern you to be having a baby with someone who’s older than you?”

“What goes on in my relationship is my business,” you snapped, dropping the files to the counter and feeling the eyes of other nurses on you, “He is my partner, not yours. He is the father of my child, not yours. And that’s all that matters to me. I don’t care about our age difference or his past relationships. Why? Because I do love him, and unless you two want to be romantically involved with him I don’t see why you care about my relationship with James.”

You turned to the other nurses who watched you with wide eyes, “I’m sorry to dump this onto you, but could one of you help House for a moment? I need a moment.”

“Of course,”

Once you received your response you walked away from the nurses station, tears welling in your eyes. You forcefully wiped them away as you opened the door to James’s office. You knew he would be with patients, so you shut the door and moved to the couch in his room.

Sprawling into the sofa you stared at the ceiling while resting a hand on your stomach. You didn’t plan on dozing off, but it eventually happened at some point you were awoken by James gently shaking you awake.

“Cuddy sent me to find you,” he said softly, helping you sit up as he remained crouched in front of you, concern on his features, “Are you alright?”

“Are you worried about having a baby with someone…younger?”

He looked concerned, taking your hands and shaking his head, “Where is this coming from?”

“Everyone has been talking about it since news got out,” You murmured, already feeling your tears ready to fall. James’s brown eyes were filled with so much worry as he rubbed his hand on your knee, trying to comfort you, “You can’t expect me to believe you haven’t heard it.”

“Of course I have, from House himself,” James informed you, then he shrugged, “But I don’t care. We love each other and this baby, and that’s what matters to me. Your age is the least of my concerns, and so are past relationships.”

Your eyes met his own, and you gave a small smile as he reached up to cup your cheek, wiping tears away, “I hope our baby learns so much from you.”

He only chuckled while you leaned down and kissed him. You pulled away and his brown eyes watched you lovingly. He smiled, “Let’s go get you and little one some food.”

James stood and helped you to your feet, arms wrapped around your waist as you shared another brief kiss. You two walked beside one another to the cafeteria, and when you saw House and his team you froze slightly, but James being beside you kept you going.

You each grabbed your food, James making sure you got everything that was healthy for you and the baby, then joined House and the team. Chase watched you closely as you settled in a chair, fighting for comfort while James watched in silence. He was never one to take away your physical tasks, but would still silently fuss over you.

You began eating your lunch, but the team’s eyes didn’t leave you. You shared a glance with James and he remained silent, so you sat up straight, “Is there something you all need?”

“You’ve been crying,” House pointed out rather abruptly, “Either your hormonal or the reality of the father of your child has come crashing done on you.”

James heaved a sigh, dropping his fork and leveling a glare at House. You place your hand over his, silencing him so you could speak, “There is no reality to it. James is the man I love, we’re having a baby, and that’s that.”

Chase’s eyes widened briefly, and Foreman quickly returned to eating his food. House studied you for a moment, and you only watched in response, clenching your jaw and feeling James take your hand in his own.

You silently returned to your meal, and after a moment: James did as well. There was a smug look on his face that he was thankful you hadn’t noticed.

It was later that night, after you had both gone home, when you were changing into your pajamas. You were silent as James walked in, he tucked his hands in his pockets as he watched you for a moment.

“I don’t think Chase or Foreman will say something again, or House for that matter,”

You turned to him, gaze softening as you sat on the bed, “They can say what they want. I don’t care.”

With that you laid down on your side, turning off your lamp and waited in silence for James to join you.

And sure enough, he did.

[aziraphales-library]

Hey :) thanks for all you do for the fandom!

I was wondering, can you recommend any good (canon-verse) fics that have Crowley and/or Aziraphale being temporarily human or loosing their powers (and having to deal with what that entails)? I'm asking specifically for temporarily because I've found plenty that have them turn human for good but somehow couldn't figure out a way to search for ones where it's temporary.

Thank you already and I hope you have a lovely day!

We have a #turned human tag, and some of the summaries specify "temporarily", so look for those. There's not really a way to search for fics where there's not permanently human, other than skipping to the end to check. So that's what I spent ages doing...

Damned to Humanity by Justanothernerdsstuff (T)

“I thought,” Aziraphale said, his smile starting to shift. “That I was already excused from heavenly duties. Seeing how my last visit upstairs went,” He noted, silently thanking Crowley for stepping into that fire for him. “You were. But this,” He flicked the card towards Aziraphale and it swayed through the air until it rested at his feet. “Is much more than being excused. You’ve fallen,” Gabriel clarified. *** Aziraphale falls, but Hell doesn't want him any more than Heaven does. As a result, he is turned human. Trigger warning: the possibility of death is briefly mentioned.

human nature by attheborder (T)

When you’re talking about bodies locked in orbit, forever circling each other, it takes two to tango. Forces opposed; action and reaction. One, and the other.  But the blank-slate version of Aziraphale sleeping beside Crowley in this cold little bed had no fear of Heaven, no fear of Falling. Not even a fear of snakes. He only had, as all humans did, the knowledge of good and bad, and the ability to make a choice. *** Crowley must turn Aziraphale human in order to hide him from Heaven. (Inspired by/fusion with Doctor Who’s Human Nature/Family of Blood arc)

Human Incarnate by nikkiRA (M)

“They think I’m immune to demon fire, see,” Aziraphale said, in a slightly airy voice. “So they had to… get creative.” “Aziraphale, what. Did. They. Do?” “Can’t you tell?” Aziraphale gave a little laugh. This must be what shock felt like. “Can’t you sense it?” He grabbed Crowley’s hand and pressed it to his chest, so the demon could feel his rapidly beating, very human heart. “I’m a human now, my dear. Very, very mortal.” Aziraphale is punished. Crowley refuses to accept it. Shenanigans, feelings, and plots ensue.

It's Not the Fall (It's the Landing) by Ginger_Cat (E)

To save each other from Heaven and Hell, Aziraphale and Crowley become human. Things, predictably, do not go as planned. Crowley thought about what he’d come there to do. He thought about what it meant, in the context of God’s warning. Really thought. There wouldn’t be hopping from restaurant to restaurant with his best friend for the next six thousand years (give or take). There wouldn’t be any more miracles, or tempting. There wouldn’t be any skirting Hell’s wrath for eternity. And when it was over, the deepest, darkest, horriblest pits would be reserved for him. Crowley said, “Will you make me human, too?”

The Human Dilemma by theshoparoundthecorner (G)

“That’s not possible. How could my eyes just change overnight?” Crowley snapped his fingers. The mirror remained stubbornly shattered. He looked up at Aziraphale, face pale. Aziraphale took a step forward. “Like I said, I think something’s happened.” “What’s going on? Why isn’t it working?” Crowley snapped his fingers again, his agitation growing. Aziraphale placed a hand on his shoulder. “Crowley, let’s leave the mirror be for now and talk this over. I’ll make us some tea, or coffee, or whatever you’d like. I just don’t think it’s a good idea to for either of us be around broken glass at the moment.” Crowley nodded, taking Aziraphale’s hand and stepping over the shards to safety. Aziraphale could feel his hand shaking in his. “Crowley,” he said, “I need you to take a deep breath.” “Why? I don’t need to breathe.” “Yes, I rather think you do. I think we both do.” “Angel, what is going on?” Aziraphale reached forward and placed a hand on Crowley’s chest, feeling a strong heartbeat racing beneath it. Crowley reached forward and did the same. “Crowley,” Aziraphale said after a moment, afraid to speak the truth into being, “I think we may be human.”

And because I know someone will mention it if I don't...

Pray For Us, Icarus by Atalan (Series) (G-T)

For three centuries, Crowley has been reincarnated over and over as a human with no memory of his past. Aziraphale has tried to find a way to restore him to his true self, but all he seems to do is hurt them both. This time, he only means to steal a brief moment when he walks into Crowley's flower shop. But Crowley can't let it go...

- Mod D

[pearl-likes-pi]

i honestly dont know hoe to say this, but you really had a hand in shaping my brai chemistry while i was growing up, no kidding. i remember when i was 13 or so and whenever you posted a pearl rap career chapter it would unironicaly make my day (specially when you dropped the peridot chapter i had a stomach infection or smth, so that video and the last one out of beach city episode were on replay for me for a few days). its really weird seeing that rebecca managed to make a safe space for lgbt folks (it was really hard for me to accept myself as gay, it seems really simple nowadays but back then it was so discomforting to even thinm about it so su and its fandom, and by some extent, your vids, helped me externalize some feelings or queernes i guess, do you remeber when someone said your video editing was raw and masculine? lol). anyways, its wild to think i was in 5th grade when i first watched laser light canon and now im finishing my journalism course in college and seeing how this show raised me in some way and helped me to be aware of my own mental health i only have good memories, thankfully, and its really sad to see that it ended, but i honestly wouldnt have had it any other way. its kind of a long rant but id like to thank you, mackenzie, your videos made me laugh a lot when i was a teen and they still make me now. this show was truly a gift, it made us connect to something bigger and magical. this was kind of a long rant since ive kinda forgotten that su existed and remined that it existed because of some dreams lol. i remembered back then when i was super anxious about the cluster episode, i remeber checking your tumblr everyday and seeing fanon content. i really dont know how to express myself since english is not my first language and i tend to ramble on a lot on my native one, but id like to say youve made me smile a lot, it was so cool seeing you present the su podcast and being an intern at CN. i honestly wish you the best.

Dude it means so much to hear that my lil shitposts have had an impact on people!!!! I completely understand where youre coming from re: SU's impact on your life (and acceptance of queer identity) and feel the same way!!! im so grateful for this show and everything it represents. in a world without Steven Universe my current life would be completely unrecognizable. like genuinely I dont think any single aspect of my life would be the way it is without SU. which is nuts but it's true!!!

I love engaging with this community and it gave me a lot of support when I was at a place in my life where I felt pretty isolated. I'm kind of rambling now too but this seriously has been sitting in my inbox for a bit now and I just knew i needed to respond and say thank you for sharing. <3

ALSO LMAO I FORGOT ABT THE RAW AND MASCULINE COMMENT THANK YOU FOR REMINDING ME HAHA

[gentlebeardsbarngrill]

My current letter to the HBO Folks.

@stardust-sadie's latest letter, @merryfinches, @poison-into-positivity and so many others inspired me to write my own letter to David Zaslav. This is what was sent, feel free to use any of it if you'd like, I stole some of Stardust-Sadie's commentary with their permission (in their letter).

---

Email Addresses:

Only emails that worked:

support@hbomax.com

kundeservice@hbomax.com

The rest of these are not working at the moment:

david.zaslav@discovery.com, david_zaslav@discovery.com, To whom it may concern: attention David Zaslav, help@hbomax.com

---

To whom it may concern: Attention David Zaslav

I realize you all are probably being swamped at the moment by an influx of responses to your decision to not greenlight Season 3 of Our Flag Means Death, so I appreciate you taking the time to read this if you do. 

I am writing today, much like many of my fellow fans, hoping to provide you with evidence and earnest feedback as to why you should reverse the decision not to renew. I have used HBO Max in the past, but once a show I liked was over, and another one on another network came up that we wanted to watch, we decided to cancel. I was on HBOMax before I knew about Our Flag Means Death, and aside from Doom Patrol and Harley Quinn, we didn't have too many other shows we wanted to watch. After cancelling for many months, I heard of Our Flag Means Death from an artist that drew for other fandoms that I liked. Looking into the fanbase, I quickly found pieces that I felt were definitely up my alley and decided to cancel other networks for a few months to jump back into HBOMax.

Why is this important? I don't watch ads in a lot of places. I block pop ups because they are often very spammy, so I don't get recommendations for shows like most people. I'm a [AGE][GENDER][PROFESSION] and I avoid advertising in most cases. You know where I get my recommendations? Fanbases, casts and crews. The absolute adoration of an artist or writer that I like loving a series will get me to look into and watch that show before any other kind of advertising. Your fanbase is free advertising. THAT BEING SAID -- I'd like to explain to you what meant so much to me about this show.

Not only was I absolutely floored by the quality, and story of Our Flag Means Death, but the thing that kept me wanting more was the messages it portrayed. So rarely is there a show that embodies drama, comedy, and an all encompassing belief in forgiveness and change, and accepting others for who they are. This show gave me a new outlook on life. It helped me to heal parts of myself I didn't realize were hurt. I found love and compassion in the cast, the crew, and the fanbase that I haven't experienced in modern television in a very long time. I became engaged in other max shows because of it (Wellington Paranormal, The Last of Us, His Dark Materials, Lovecraft Country, etc). I'm actively watching shows and content I had previously decided not to worry about because of the influence of Our Flag Means Death. 

For me, as a fan, knowing that Max has content that means so much to me and others, shows that as a company, you're willing to have content that not only sparks the imagination, but fosters kindness, acceptance, and forgiveness no matter what race, gender, sexuality, or financial background you're from. That is the content we, the fans, have been looking for in so many places and have found them lacking. Another great example of this is the Barbie movie that you had a sign language interpreter for. While I am a hearing person, I still watched it because it was fascinating and so incredibly inclusive, and that tells me that you, HBOMax as a company DOES care about inclusivity.

When we waited for the renewal announcement this winter, I purchased Our Flag Means Death merchandise from your store (a mug and a blanket) because I knew I needed something to commemorate this great show no matter what happened. I am one of many fans who did this. Fun, reasonably designed merchandise is something we the fanbase can get behind. 

Our Flag Means Death is a powerhouse in television, and I know that it's only meant to be 3 seasons, so it won't be a cash cow forever, but I can tell you it's brought SO MANY PEOPLE to your platform that would normally just not have joined up. I am on HBO Max right now so that I can watch Our Flag Means Death whenever I want to. You're getting monthly subscription fees from me and so many other people JUST for this show. Your decision to cancel it is actually hurting your numbers, as can be seen in the clear drop in shareholder confidence since the announcement on January 9th.  Attached is a screenshot of the WB Discovery Inc Stock for reference.

In addition, a colleague of mine said this best so I will quote them here:

"Furthermore, the decision to cancel the show has led to a very prominent and public backlash from the very passionate and vocal fanbase of Our Flag Means Death. Fans have made their displeasure known across all the major social media platforms: X, Instagram, TikTok, Tumblr, YouTube, Facebook, etc etc. This backlash is unlikely to die down in the near future, and is likely to continue to reflect a poor image of HBO Max to subscribers and investors. 

The egregious decision to cancel Our Flag Means Death has also caught the attention of journalists writing for major publications, such as Vanity Fair, The Hollywood Reporter, The Independent, and even more niche internet publications such as Collider. "

All of this is true. As an active member of this fanbase, I am seeing this across all platforms.

I implore you, as a huge consumer of  fiction, fantasy, sci-fi, historical, and lgbtqia content, to please reconsider renewing Our Flag Means Death for its 3rd and final season. We the fans are willing to put our hearts and souls into these letters because this show made an impact on our community that is so immense and cascading that it can't be quantified. I guarantee that a good faith act to do so will not only restore your reputation but open new revenue streams if you continue with this kind of inclusive and heartfelt content.

Thank you for your time,

[NAME]

[dragonydreams]

Fic: I choose you as my man - BuckTommy

Title: I choose you as my man Fandom: 9-1-1 Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Pairings/Characters: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Tommy Kinnard Summary: Buck wants another date with Tommy before the wedding. Timeline: post 7x05 Word Count: 1,382 Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over these characters. I am merely borrowing them from Reamworks, Brad Falchuk Teley-Vision, Ryan Murphy Television, and 20th Century Fox Television. Betas: Thank you to @medieshanachie for looking this over for me. Author's Note: Title from "Take Me As I Am" by Wyclef Jean from Love, Actually soundtrack

Read on AO3

Buck couldn't believe he had as many butterflies in his stomach as he did as he adjusted the placement of the popcorn bowl on the coffee table. He glanced up at the television to where the movie was waiting to be started. 

He grabbed a couple of coasters and set one on either side of the popcorn bowl because he was an adult and didn't want rings on his table from when the beers that were still in the fridge inevitably began to sweat.

He didn't know why he was so nervous. It wasn't like this was the first time that Tommy had been to his loft. Then again, this was the first time he was coming over for a date. 

He felt the smile begin to grow as he thought back to the last time Tommy had been here. To when he'd turned Buck's world upside down with that kiss. The kiss he hasn't been able to stop thinking about since it happened.

He really hoped that they would kiss again tonight. And boy, did he feel fourteen years old again, just hoping for a kiss. 

Before he could get too lost in his thoughts, there was a knock at the door. Buck smoothed down his polo shirt and hurried to the door.

"You're here," Buck said, holding the door open for Tommy. A thrill raced down his spine as Tommy gave him an appreciative once over. One he couldn't stop himself from returning.

"I'm not too early, am I?" Tommy asked, stepping inside. 

"N-No, you're right on time," Buck answered, closing the door. "Go ahead and sit on the couch and I'll grab a couple of beers."

Tommy's rich laughter boomed when he saw the TV. Buck grinned to himself as he hurriedly opened the beers and joined him.

"You've been talking to Howie about me?" Tommy guessed as he accepted the beer Buck held out for him.

Buck dipped his head and looked up at Tommy through his lashes. He heard Tommy's quick intake of breath at the gesture but ignored it. "Well, he has known you the longest."

Tommy's bright eyes dimmed a bit. "Yeah, I was a different man back then," he said.

"Don't worry, he told me that, too," Buck assured him, reaching out to squeeze his - very muscular - arm.

"How'd that conversation go?" Tommy asked, somewhat nervously. 

Buck gestured towards the couch and they sat, both turned to face the other.

"I pulled him aside during a slow period at work and told him that I was bringing you as my date for the wedding," Buck said. 

"I wish I could have seen his expression to that announcement," Tommy said. "I wasn't out to anyone when I was with the 118."

"This was also how he found out that I'm bi, since I'd never been on a date with anyone who wasn't a woman before you," Buck admitted.

"And you chose a fire station as the place to come out to him?" Tommy asked, eyebrows raised. "Howie can't keep a secret to save his life."

"Which is why he was the last one on my team that I told," Buck said. "Not on purpose, but it just kinda ended up happening that way. I was kinda almost hoping that Maddie would let it slip, but unlike her fiance, she can keep a secret." Buck paused, then rushed to say, "Not that I'm keeping  us a secret. I'm not ashamed that I'm bi, or to be going out with you. After all, I'm bringing you to my sister's wedding. To Chimney!"

Tommy reached out and rested a hand on Buck's knee and squeezed. "Relax, I didn't think you were."

Buck took a deep breath. Not just because of how good it felt to have Tommy's hand on his leg, but also to release some of his nervous tension.

"Anyway, once that news sunk in he was so excited that we're going out and couldn't wait to share with me some of your favorite things," Buck said, glancing at the TV. "And I figured that since we missed the movie last time, that we should start with one of your favorites." 

"Have you seen it?" Tommy asked, resituating himself on the couch to better face the TV.

Buck grabbed the popcorn and remote and did the same, scooting closer to Tommy, but with a couple of inches still between them. 

"I used to watch it with Maddie," Buck said. "She loves it, too."

"But you don't? We can watch something else if you don't. I'll have lost some respect for you, though," Tommy teased.

"I do," Buck confirmed. "Who doesn't love a movie about people falling in love and the hope that being in love inspires?"

"Exactly," Tommy agreed, stretching an arm out behind Buck on the couch as he settled more comfortably. 

Buck eyed the arm behind him and just grinned to himself, having pulled that move himself way too often, pleased to be on the receiving end of it. He felt the heat rise on his cheeks. 

He raised the remote and pressed play before setting it on the coffee table.

As he sat back, he spread his legs just a bit so his knee was lightly pressing against Tommy's. The other man didn't say anything, but Buck felt him press his knee a little more into Buck's in acknowledgement. A pleasant shiver ran down Buck's spine as Tommy brushed a thumb against Buck's shoulder.

Buck glanced at Tommy from the corner of his eye and he was smiling. Whether that was because of Buck's reaction or the movie, Buck wasn't entirely sure.

He grabbed a small handful of popcorn and tossed it in his mouth. As he automatically began to lick the lingering butter and salt from the palm of his hand, he suddenly realized that he'd forgotten napkins. He leapt to his feet to find Tommy staring hungrily at him. 

"I-I forgot napkins. For the popcorn," Buck stuttered. 

Tommy looked from Buck's buttery lips to his fingers. "I think I can help with that," Tommy suggested, reaching out for Buck's right hand; the left still holding the popcorn bowl. 

Buck blindly set the popcorn on the table as Tommy pulled Buck back down next to him, much closer than before. 

Keeping his eyes on Buck's, Tommy sucked one of Buck's fingers into his mouth, swirling his tongue around each one until it was cleaned of butter and salt. 

Buck could barely catch his breath as he watched Tommy suck each of his fingers clean. His dick took an interest as well, suddenly wishing for Tommy to suck that appendage as well. It took all of Buck's effort to not glance down to see if Tommy was enjoying this as much as Buck was.

"That was so hot," Buck breathed when Tommy finished. 

"Oh, I'm not done yet," Tommy promised. 

He reached out with the same two fingers as last time and pulled Buck into a kiss.

Buck whined with relief to be kissing Tommy again, letting himself rest the hand that had just been in Tommy's mouth in his shoulder, his fingers digging in as Tommy's tongue flicked against his lips. He parted his lips and they both moaned as Tommy's tongue brushed against Buck's.

When they pulled apart a few minutes later, Buck panted, "This isn't why I invited you over tonight."

"You sure about that?" Tommy teased.

"Well, not the only reason," Buck admitted. "I hoped. I really hoped. But I also just want to spend more time with you."

"You don't hear me complaining, do you?" Tommy asked, running his fingertips along Buck's shoulders and upper back.

"N-n-noo," Buck said with a shuddering breath. "How do you do that to me?" he muttered quietly.

Tommy chuckled. "I remember what it was like when I first admitted that I was attracted to men."

Buck's wide eyes met Tommy's smiling ones, his fingers running down Tommy's arm. "Is it like this for everyone?"

"I can only speak for myself," Tommy said. "But in my experience, when you click with the right person, yes."

As if to prove his point, Tommy leaned back in and captured Buck's mouth again. 

It was a good thing that they'd both seen the movie before.

The End

[that-damn-fouth-chaosemerald]

Hello ignore this if your requests are closed if not here's my request (•̀ᴗ•́)و

Could I request (yandere simulator) umeji x male tsundere reader? Oh and can he be musumes brother? You chose if they're already in a relationship or not.

Oh and can I go by sunny?

—❢—

×A/N×

Hii! ^^

Sorry because of the long wait! TwT

I feel like it's a little bit shittier than my other works, but I hope it's acceptable-

×❢ About my work ❢×

you two are not in a relationship, musume is badass, umeji is a jerk, male character x male reader, weak bullying, swears, and I think that's all-

Fandom: Yandere Simulator

Character(s): Umeji Kizuguchi, Musume Ronshaku, the reader (you), mentioned the other deliquents

Ship(s): Umeji Kizuguchi x Reader

—❢—

𝐔𝐦𝐞𝐣𝐢 𝐊𝐢𝐳𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐢 𝐱 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞, 𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

(The picture is not mine. Credit to the og creator!)

𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈: Bad boys by Inner Circle

“Bad boys, bad boys

Whatcha gonna do, whatcha gonna do”

• at the begining, you couldn't believe this yourself either

• in love with Umeji Kizuguchi? Omfg you must be crazy. 0-0

• you couldn't believe this as yourself either

• everyday, you stared at him more and more time

• you didn't notice your own acts btw

• you thougt about him a lot

• basically you couldn't stop it

• and one day, your sister, Musume asked you:

• She was looking the same way where you looked. She gasped a bit when she found out that you watching Umeji, without a blink.

"Oh my gosh, Y/N!" she snapped you from your thoughts (and your stalking).

"What?" you turn to her with a questioning look.

"Do you like Umeji?!" of course, she had to said it like the whole school heard it.

"What?! No!" you feel as you get more flustrated and your face starting to get red.

"Then why are you stalking him?" she gives you a smirk.

"I'm not-, shut up!"

• and then, at home, you started thinking

• you really liked him? Or you just zoned out, and everytime when you think about him your face just simply gets red because of the hotness, right?

• alright, this sounds very stupid, just admin it!

• Yes, you liked him. Very much.

• You stared at him in class (i mean you could just do this time only when he was in class)

• when the school ended and you had to go home

• when the school started and you had to go back to the building

• at lunch

• the other deliquents already noticed you, but he didn't seem to be bothered with you

• maybe he is ignoring you

• you looked away from him to start thinking

• but you couldn't concernate to your thoughts because your sister started to poking you

• "Stop it!" you say it annoyedly.

"He's coming." she whispers.

"Wha-" you couldn't finish your sentece, because when you turned your head forward you saw Umeji as he standing in front of you firmly. Oh shit.

"Can I help you-"

"Stop stalking me. I don't want anything to do with you. Buzz off." he says coldly as he looks down at you with his amber eyes. You felt it as your cheek starting to burn. He talked to you. Alright maybe he was a little bit annoyed, but he talked. With you!

"I didn't stal-" Umeji left before you could finish your sentece. You almost fell on the ground because of him and he just simply leaving?! Asshole. You looked down a bit sorrowfully maybe with some tears. Musume looked up and down at you and the Umeji as he walks away. She stood up firmly and while she walked to him, she shouted to him:

"Hey, pussy!" Nobody will hurt her brother.

• you didn't even wanna look at him after this but

• omg you literally can't spend any moment without just simply thinking about him

• but there was other moments when your cheeks got more red than the usual

• it was a hot summer day

• and Musume decided to bring you with herself to the beach

• you usally don't like to go places like this

• a lot people

• the children are loud

• and there are too many hot guys and girls

• but now you gave it a try

• life is for the living, right?

• and omg what the fate brought you

• correctly, who the fate brought you

• ofc it was Umeji

• you couldn't belive your eyes

• is that really him?

• shirtless, good looking, beautiful amber eyes with blonde hair

• yes, it's really him

• you started to blush as you saw him

• oh wait-

• his friends stood up with him and started walking to your way

• you hided your face with a book quickly

• his friends just simply walked away in front of you, it seemed like they won't notice you

• but Umeji stopped and started analyzing you

• a small sarcastic grin appeared on his face

• "Nice sunglasses, stalker." he said. You felt it as you start to blushing more. He chuckled a little bit because of your reaction, then he walked away.

"Asshole..." you mumbled.

• even if he says that " he doesn't like you " (What is seems like it's not true 😒)

• he definitely loves to make you blush and see you burning just because of him

[xenisstrange]

i don't think anyone outside of this fandom will ever understand what this game has done for me

i was eleven years old lying in my bed with my ipad mini and a pair of earbuds. it was around midnight, way past my bedtime at that age.

i scrolled through my youtube home page and came across a video titled something along the lines of "I CAN TIME TRAVEL???" and started watching.

the gameplay opened with the scene of a girl staring at a massive tornado. and then she woke up in photography class. and then she figured out she could rewind time.

and i was hooked.

then came the bathroom scene. the moment nathan shot chloe, i exited youtube. i was too shocked and stunned to continue. so i put my ipad away and tried to go to bed.

that lasted for less than five minutes.

too curious as to what would happen next, i grabbed my ipad and found the video again.

once i was past the initial shock of what had happened, i found myself falling in love with the art style. i fell in love with the music. i fell in love with the concept, the characters, the universe.

i remember thinking chloe was so cool. i remember wishing i could have a clothing style just like hers.

i remember wishing i had a place like the junkyard where i could escape to.

and i remember relating to max. she's artistic and shy. just like i was.

just like i am.

and then i finished watching episode one. i had to wait two months to see what would happen in episode two. and whenever a new episode did come out, it was always the first thing i watched when i came home from school.

it was like i saw myself in the characters.

kate's rooftop scene broke me. and in coming years, i would relate to her depression far more than i ever realized i would at eleven years old.

chloe's anger stunned me. i didn't realize why i felt so connected to the intensity of it then, but knowing what i was to experience in my teenage years, it now makes sense.

max's sensitivity made me feel so seen. and she was just as creative as i wished to be. i bought an analog camera when i was fifteen just because i wanted to take polaroids like her.

i wanted to be in the world of life is strange. i wanted to experience true friendship (and more) like what max and chloe had because up until then, i felt so alone.

this game made me feel understood. this game made me feel like i could make my life an adventure. this game gave me hope for the future.

i finally played the game myself when i was thirteen. it was the second game ever in my steam account.

but throughout high school, i forgot about the game for a bit, only getting re-obsessed for a short while when before the storm came out. i finally played life is strange 2 in the summer of 2020, when i rediscovered life is strange during covid lockdown. and then came true colors. i played that one the day it got released.

even though the new games are amazing, and the characters' relatability is just as strong, the original life is strange will forever hold a special place in my heart. in a way, it formed who i am as a person today. just ask anyone who was in my life when i started saying "hella" in every sentence.

a few days after i turned eighteen, i realized "i am the age of the characters in life is strange."

and that was crazy to me.

i had grown up with these characters, wondering if my life would ever be as interesting or as venturesome as theirs. and now i was the same age as them.

and then i became older than them. and my life has most definitely not been the adventure i'd hoped for.

but i've come to accept this, as max and chloe are video game characters, and i live in the real world.

but that's why i hold the first life is strange game in such a special place in my heart. these characters were there for me when real people weren't.

this game taught me the difference in morals and beliefs, because what one person thinks is wrong might be right to someone else. this game taught me to be kind to others, to show compassion and empathy, because you never know what someone is going through.

this game taught me not to be afraid to love.

because if i were to be chloe, then someday my max would make a return.

[klbwriting]

Our Strange Duet

Chapter 5: One Step

Fandom: Red Hood

Pairing: Jason Todd x f!reader

Warnings: none, unless shitty dad Bruce is a warning

Summary: YN confronts Bruce while Jason runs away

Taglist: @deans-spinster-witch

One step at a time - Anastasia

               YN avoided looking at the cast list Sunday, instead choosing to ignore the email she received.  Speaking with Bruce Wayne was more important at the moment.  She had so many questions.  Why her mother?  Why give them money and send them away?  Why not just talk to Jason?  He had to know that he was alive now, between the video and now Red Hood stalking the streets more openly, with Nightwing by his side most nights, he had to know that his older sons were working together, so why not approach them?  She was getting answers today, right from the source.  Well, she hoped so at least as she arrived at the gate, pressing the buzzer.  A voice cracked over the speaker asking for her name and if she had an appointment.  She gave her name only and waited. 

Just when she thought the gate wasn’t going to budge it creaked open and she climbed the hill, entering the grounds of Wayne Manor.  She looked around, trying to imagine what it must have been like for Jason, a ten-year-old, to be brought here to live.  He could play anywhere he wanted, run his energy off for hours on a beautiful lawn, there was probably a pool and tennis courts, maybe a full-fledged playground somewhere.  The woods surrounding the property contained hours of exploring potential and she almost laughed, thinking about Dick and Jason in the trees, doing flips and trying to show off for each other.  How strange it must have been for Jason to wake up and realize that this was all gone, that Bruce had pretty much abandoned him to his fate.  She wondered if Jason ever drove by the manor and remembered his childhood.  Were the memories nice?  Or sour in his stomach now?

The front door was already open when YN got there, the butler, Alfred, standing there to greet her.  He took her bag, setting it on a side table before leading her into a sitting room off the main hall.  Once again, she was struck by the home, imaging Jason there, getting into trouble.  She almost smiled a little, then became sad. The look in his eyes the few times he had talked about this place, he was ruined by this place, by what he had lost.  She was heartbroken until Bruce Wayne walked in, then she just felt anger.

“I see you have figured out who the donor was,” Bruce began, moving to sit in a chair, motioning for her to sit in another one.  She sat down, eyes narrowed at him.  “I wasn’t expecting you to be so angry.”

“I’m not angry about the money,” she said.  “But I will no longer accept it.  And the apartment, I have already packed and told them I will be breaking the lease.  You can cover the cost of that, I don’t want it.”  He looked surprised, then annoyed.

“You need a place to live while you study.  That grant will only cover tuition,” he said.  She shrugged. 

“I’ll move in with Jason and Dick then,” she said.  The name Jason seemed to slap Bruce in the face.  He went from looking displeased to haunted before masking again.  “I already lied to him about where the apartment came from, I’ll come clean now that I know that you were supplying it.  I don’t want your money, Bruce Wayne.  I have enough deadbeat dads in my life, I don’t want to be indebted to one.”

“I am not…” Bruce started but she held up a hand.

“Why haven’t you tried to talk to him?” she asked, one hand clenching on the arm of the chair, the other a fist in her lap.  She wanted to scream at Bruce, tell him how much damage he did, how much Jason hurt because of him, but she wouldn’t, let him explain himself. 

“If he wanted to see me, he would come to me,” Bruce answered as if that were the end of it.  YN scoffed.  How idiotic were rich men that they just expected everyone to bend to them.

“You’re the parent Bruce, not Jason.  You should seek him out, you should have sought him out when he died, like Dick did, brought him back, like Dick did,” she said.  “The more you avoid him, the more you ignore him, the less likely it is he will come to you.”

“He was supposed to be here today, not you,” Bruce said cooly.  YN glared at him.  “He would find out about me being the donor and then come confront me.  Not you.”  She stared; glad she had gotten out of that apartment now.  He must have bugged it, hoping to spy.  How boring his summer must have been as she had just sat in her room, spending the days either trying to distract herself or just letting herself sob.  YN stood and shook her head.

“I’ll let him know when I see him next,” she said, heading towards the door, grabbing her bag and storming out.  She waited until she was a few streets away before calling Jason.  He didn’t answer, so she messaged him instead, telling him she would visit Dick’s later.  She needed to clear her head and work on finding a new place to live before it got dark out.

Jason had waited for Dick to get home from the gym and lunch with Barbara before demanding they do something together.  Something that they could talk while doing, unplugged, just them.  Dick grabbed his stuff, loaded the car and they headed into the woods to the North of the city.  It was a good day for a hike, late August, so hot but having cooled off some in the last few days.  It would probably be scorching again tomorrow, but today they could spend the early afternoon climbing the small peaks and valleys of the forest.  Jason could talk and Dick could listen, and vice versa. 

“So, what is with the hike Jay?” Dick asked after a half an hour of walking in silence, leaving Jason to his thoughts.  They weren’t great thoughts.  He kept wondering why Bruce would just abandon him, not once, but twice it felt like.  Did Dick know?  Did Bruce call him often to get updates on him?  Or did they talk, and pretend Jason wasn’t there still? 

“Did you know Bruce was the donor for YN’s mom’s treatment?” he asked.  He had to know how much Dick was hiding from him.  He was behind his brother and nearly ran into him as Dick froze on the trail.

“He…WHAT?” Dick asked, turning around to stare at him.  The surprise in his eyes wasn’t fake, that much was easy to see.  Jason let out a relieved breath.  It would have been really annoying to have to leave Dick behind too, but he could only handle so many lies and half-truths at this point.  “I honestly thought it was Maroni trying to convince her to join him.”

“She thought that too at first, but Maroni apparently was livid she left the country, no, I went to see her last night and she showed me the bank statements, the company funneling the money for her.  Plostast Holdings.”  Dick sighed and looked down.

“Ah yes, Bruce and his anagrams,” he mumbled.  “Apparently letting me pick the company name was too boring so he’s forcing names on you lesser Robins.”  Jason cocked an eyebrow and let out a bark of unamused laughter.

“Lesser Robins?  Watch it I’ll cut you right now,” Jason said, pulling out a knife and dancing it between his fingers.  Dick rolled his eyes but pulled out a knife just in case his brother felt stabby.  “So, he didn’t tell you about his scheme?”

“No, he didn’t,” Dick admitted.  Jason couldn’t tell what bothered him more, not knowing or the scheme itself.  “He must have been trying to draw you out, probably thought if you found out about it that you’d confront him.” 

“Well, he’s wrong, I’m not going to him,” Jason said, moving now to keep walking.  He started running, wanting to feel the burn in his lungs.  He didn’t stop until they reached the overlook, and he could see the city below them.  He leaned on the railing, looking over everything and hating it.  But loving it.  The conflict warred in him.  Dick caught up to him and leaned on the railing, facing away from the city.

“What are you going to do if you’re not going to him?” Dick asked.  Jason shook his head.  “He won’t come to you, remember, that’s not how Bruce operates.”

“Well then I guess we’re at an impasse,” he answered.  “YN knows it was Bruce too.  She might confront him, but that’s her own thing.”  This time Dick let out a humorless laugh.

“You think that she is going to confront him for herself?  She is going for you, so that you don’t have to,” Dick said.  “Make sure when you see her next you do something special, if she’s going after Bruce, she’s going to deserve at least some flowers.”

“We should head back to the city, I’m sure the cast list is out by now,” Jason said, ignoring Dick’s implications.  Dick let the matter slide and they headed down the trail, driving back to the city. 

Once back home Jason checked his phone.  He had a missed call from YN and a message saying she would see him later, neither thing was concerning to him.  He checked him email and shook his head.  Phantom – Jason Todd.  She was right, he was a madman again, at least this time he got a mask.  Then he noticed her name.  Music Supervisor – YN YLN.  Wow, that was a big job for a freshman.  He was about to tell Dick the news when someone knocked on the door.  He knew it was YN, only the two brothers and their girlfriends knew the door entry code, but Barbara had a key to the place.  Jason opened the door to find YN carrying a couple bags.

“Congrats on Phantom, I moved out, can I stay here tonight until I find a new place?”

[agoodficforchii]

I Don’t Do Love

Fandom: Genshin Impact Pairing: Xiao x Reader Word Count: 910 Summary: You've grown to love Xiao, but does he feel the same? Warnings/Extra Notes: Angst, Slight cussing, Lumine is used as "the other girl"

In all honesty, you should've known what you were getting into when you met Xiao. Xiao, conqueror of demons, the last Yaksha Guardian, someone who wanted nothing to do with humans. Really you should have known better. But she was able to talk to him. She got close to him. He let her in. Then again, she was the Honorary Knight of Mondstat, savior of Liyue, the great traveler. What were you? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. You’d probably be laughing at yourself if it didn’t hurt so damn bad.

Flashback

As the sun fell into the horizon, I started approaching the familiar inn. Today was the day I’d finally tell him how I felt! Or that’s what I was telling myself. I prepared for all the outcomes possible, if he rejects me, if he accepts it, all of it. Walking up the stairs to the roof I can’t help but think about the first time Xiao and I had met. I was going to Mondstat to visit some family and decided to stay at Wangshu Inn before continuing the long trip ahead. It was already night when I checked in and instead of eating a full dinner, I skipped straight to dessert, Almond Tofu! After asking if it was possible to eat outside in a less crowded area, Verr told me the roof was mostly empty at night and that's where I headed. I expected a few people but what I didn’t expect was the last Guardian Yakasha to be leaning on the railing. After a short amount of time spent deciding whether or not to go back inside, I chose to walk up next to the lonely Yaksha. He instantly snapped his head toward my direction, scaring me to the point where I almost dropped my plate. We kind of just stared at each other for a while but I always hated awkward silences so I spoke up,

 “Uh hi? I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” I quietly said. 

Despite my best efforts he only turned to look forward again and the awkward silence came right back. After a short while, I noticed him glancing at my plate. Coming to the conclusion that the Archons above had graced me with a second chance to talk to the Yaksha I spoke up again,

“Would you like some?” I asked with the best smile I could muster up.

To my surprise, the Yaksha actually looked flustered. Was he not expecting the offer? Or does he not talk to people often? I snapped back after hearing his voice for the first time, 

“You don’t need to offer me any,” he said, turning his head forward once again.

His voice was so soft in the quiet night. I wanted to hear it again. Finally processing his words I felt a little sad knowing he didn’t expect my offer.

“But I insist! Please have some,” I replied as quickly as I could.

Pushing the plate towards him, he hesitantly grabbed the plate and took a small bite of the desert. 

“I’m [Name], it’s nice to meet you.” I decided it was a good time to introduce myself.

He glanced over at me before replying, “I’m Xiao… Thank you.” 

Thinking about how close the two of us have gotten and all the time we spent together suddenly gave me a huge boost of confidence. 

…

“I guess what I’m trying to say is I like you. A lot.” I had confessed in a whisper, looking anywhere but at him.

The silence that had followed my confession wasn’t the comfortable one I was used to with Xiao. No this was different. I could feel my heart pounding rapidly against my chest, silently praying he says something, anything. After a few more seconds I hesitantly looked at him, he wasn’t looking at me. Why wasn’t he looking at me? A sudden feeling of dread washed over me as I stood there frozen in place. I reminded myself about how I prepared for rejection, it would be okay, we could still be friends. Everything would be okay. Right? A few more seconds pass and I finally see his lips move,

“[Name]...”

…

It’s been a couple days since that incident. I wanted to forget about it. I wanted to run away. I wanted Hu Tao to bury me already. But I couldn’t, no I said I would stay friends with him. No matter how much it hurt, I wanted to stay friends with him. So here I was, walking up the familiar steps up to the rooftop ready to face him. I stopped at the entrance, suddenly feeling deja vu. I see the back of the man I had come here to see. A slight smile fell on my lips as I started to walk forward. I stopped (again) when I noticed there was someone else with him. I recognized that blonde hair anywhere, the traveler. Now normally I wouldn’t stay and eavesdrop, but hell what else do I have to lose now. It’s been a minute and nothing’s happened. I was about to leave when I heard it. He laughed. Laughed might be too generous of a word. It was more like a really small chuckle, maybe a huff? But he was smiling. He was happy. He was happy with her.

“I don’t do love” He had told me that night. 

I believed him.

But I was wrong. He didn’t do love for me. He loved for her.

[freehideoutpuppy]

So I've felt the need to write this for a bit, but kept putting it off because I know the level of discourse this subject will have on the mha Fandom. So, first and foremost, this is a major Bakugo critical post. If you don't like that, you're free to keep scrolling and not interact. Secondly, I am in no way an expert on this subject. I just have years of therapy where this is one of the first things I learned how to do correctly because I'm heavily neurodivergent and sucked at making apologies for a long time. Now, onto the subject!

Bakugo's entire apology in season 6 was absolute utter bullshit and I will be listing all the reasons I found it to be so, along with how it should've been done.

First off: apologizing in front of nearly all of 1-A right after they fought Midoriya while he was already exhausted and probably starving was manipulative af for several reasons. One as I just stated, he was exhausted and probably quite hungry, which absolutely does not put him in the right mental state to even hear an apology, let alone process and accept it. Two apologizing to someone in front of a large number of people tends to force the person being apologized to, into accepting the apology in fear of being labeled negatively by their peers.

The apology should've been done after they got Midoriya back to UA, and he'd had time to shower, eat something, and get a couple good nights of sleep first. And it should've been done around maybe 1 or two other classmates at most who were close to Midoriya or neutral towards both parties. Tsuyu and Yaomomo would've been good candidates for it in my opinion. I'd suggest Todoroki but based on how quick he is to fight if he feels slighted or if Midoriya is involved he'd more than likely have lit Bakugo on fire when he found out what exactly Bakugo had pulled.

Next, there's the way Bakugo went about his apology! Nothing he said was about what he did wrong to Midoriya. It was all about how he felt less than and a bunch of excuses as to why he behaved the way he did.

A true apology would've entailed something along the lines of I'm sorry I gave you the nickname Deku, you're not useless, and I only did that because I felt you thought you were better than me. I'm sorry I told you to take a swan dive off the roof it was uncalled for, and I not only should've never said it, but since I did I should've taken it back as soon as I said it. And so on in that fashion.

Lastly, ending his poor excuse for an apology with that whole this doesn't change anything!? That basically showed he isn't sorry for how he's behaved and undid everything he was trying to do with the apology in the first place. And like I will absolutely admit, I've hated Bakugo from the beginning, but that apology just made him feel absolutely irredeemable in my eyes. And it grinds my gears on how a large part of the Fandom treats Bakugo like the sun shines out his butt. So yeah, nothing about his apology was ok. Thank you for coming and reading my rant.

[spiralinghours]

“Office Hours”

Fandom: Saw franchise

Pairing/Characters: Mark Hoffman x Peter Strahm

Rating: 18+ (R? M? I’m not the MPAA, you know the drill: if you’re a minor, scram, this ain’t for you)

Content Warnings/Tags: feeding kink/weight gain kink/fat fetishism, (mild?) pet play/pig play (Peter calls Mark animal names again), teasing/humiliation/degradation, blink-and-you-miss-it vore-ish reference (but it’s mild and kind of joking……..)

Summary: Peter and Mark are pretty much the only ones left in the precinct late at night… with boxes of donuts.

Author’s notes: Welcome back! I still don’t know how to write these fic intros, sorry!

This is continuation/installment 3 of “Filth”. Let me know where you’d like to see this turn and I might consider it? I’m literally only writing these one scenario at a time as they pop into my head.

But like seriously, comment on this or drop me a line. I wanna hear y’all’s ideas.

Days came and went, again, a blur. It was uncertain if it was a Tuesday or a Thursday, or maybe neither. But the day that Erickson announced that he wanted his agents to crack down and wrap it up was the day that felt ongoing.

On his end, Hoffman didn’t have as much to do. He was sure to get his part out of the way and remain on standby. The downside to that was having to stay as late as the last federal agent that hung around. It was like waiting for the final remaining patron at a bar to leave so the staff could lock up for the night. (Oops, he was that asshole before.)

Milling around the precinct, he shuffled down each hall, trying to look busy, on the way to something, as he checked to see who was where. A few uniformed officers nodded and gave brief acknowledgments before trickling out the back exit.

“Detective,” a voice darted, sounding like it wanted to laugh at something stupid. Of course: Strahm, with his rigid posture and tightly-lined features that made Mark’s insides go cold and fluttering at the same time. “Working late?”

“If everyone here is working late, I’m working late,” Mark shrugged as nonchalantly as he could.

“Right, right, ‘cause you’re the Big Boss.” Peter turned his head a little and grinned to himself, creeping and vicious.

“Mmhmm, yeah.” Mark tilted his head, staring down his nose at the nuisance. “So, I’ll be around if you need anything.”

Peter narrowed his eyes under dark lashes and serious brows, cutting a nasty line from Mark’s face, to his stomach, and then back. Really subtle. “I’ll be sure not to need anything.” He pushed past Mark, side-stepping his broad frame despite fully making contact.

It was a lot like the day they first met on the scene of Kerry’s murder. Peter was just as bitchy then, making faces, and shoving up against Mark as he left, despite having plenty of clearance in the space. Was that something too?

—

A few espressos and two 5-Hour energy drinks in (which equated to how many hours awake, he did not know), Strahm was wishing he had done a few lines coming in, mostly joking with himself about finding a bag in evidence somewhere. (But only mostly joking.)

He had to accept that he did have to question Hoffman on a few things, just to get the last details on some paperwork out of the way. But he had been putting it off, trying to tackle everything but. Mark’s content smugness mixed with absolute incompetence put a scowling, bitter taste in Peter’s mouth. He didn’t think a man like that deserved to be so high in the ranks, let alone get the satisfaction of “helping” someone with such seasoned experience in federal affairs. The fist-clenching, vein-popping cherry on top was that this was the same man who turned out to be the very serial-murdering accomplice Strahm was tasked to seek out. And he was so idiotic about it! Strahm was sure if the department hadn’t already been annihilated, one of them would have found out the truth. Surely. He had to have that faint hope.

Despite all that, Peter could at least revel in putting Hoffman in his place. Even if Hoffman’s given place was on some undeserved, decorated pedestal, Peter could easily knock it down, tapping into the squirming, friction-inducing shame Mark was a glutton for. Among more tactile, decadent things.

“Whatever,” Peter huffed, shooting his espresso down like it was cheap whiskey. He wished it was.

Before exiting his dead workspace, he considered the stack of donut boxes left on a random table, from hours earlier when more officers and agents were bustling around, ant-like. He strode over, shaking the first two boxes on the top before looking inside. One was straight empty, and the one below that had a chewed up fourth of a glazed remaining. He could have sworn on his childhood baseball cards that there were more untouched boxes. It was possible some officers took some home. But like a blessing, a wish granted, the power of manifestation—something—Peter inspected the remaining bottom two boxes to find them completely stocked.

“A nice little treat for Big Boss,” he hummed to himself, walking out with the one box poised on his palm like a serving tray. It was within the same minute that he turned back for the other one.

—

There was an awkward, light knock, but no answer. “Lieutenant Detective Mark Hoffman” in vinyl lettering stared back into Peter’s face obnoxiously from the shut door. He clanked his knuckles as hard as he could on the glass again, trying not to lose balance of the sliding boxes on his other hand.

“Hey! Detective! If you’re still on the clock like you’re supposed to be, you’d answer!”

There was a clearing of his throat, and some other obstructive sounds before Hoffman could reply. “Gimme like twenty minutes. Bit tied up.”

Bullshit. Was he… chewing?

The request fell on deaf ears, Strahm already turning the handle, finding it luckily unlocked. “Stupid,” he huffed.

The clanking of the metal handle mixed with muffled grunts—warnings of “Wait! Wait!”—created a chaotic sort of din that led into a surprising and tantalizing scene.

Strahm stiffened (in multiple ways) upon seeing Hoffman leaned back fully in his luxuriously-cushioned black leather chair, hand casually set on the crease where his chest (top buttons undone, practically heaving) and stomach met. That part of his shirt was peppered with crumbs. His tie draped loose, unraveled at either side of his shoulders, and sweat-dampened brown-black hairs fell over his eyes messily, the result of some labored activity. But where Peter’s eyes hovered the most was right at the rounded center of it all: Hoffman’s gut, peeking through the gaps created by the pull of the buttons, and rolling forward where his pants were undone. Actually, not undone. Upon further glance, it was a rubber band looped through the eyehole and tied to the button, pretty much indicating that Mark couldn’t close the flaps of his pants to begin with, and had to hold it together as such. Even then, the rubber band looked like it would easily snap with too heavy a breath.

It was a whole overindulgent sight to take in so quick, so suddenly. Peter felt lightheaded despite a pleased expression.

“I told you—“ Mark tried to bark in his husky voice, mustering as much anger as possible, but stopped short. He could sense Peter smirking at the way he was attempting to speak through his full mouth.

Strahm’s eyes darted to the opposite corner of Mark’s desk where one of the same donut boxes from the communal space resided.

“Ah, that makes sense,” Peter chimed, overly chipper. “Just like a pig.” He dropped the boxes carelessly onto the desk, watching them slide and nearly fall off. “Those were for everybody, you know. But you just couldn’t help it…” He stalked behind the desk, behind Mark’s chair, and clutched his fingers into the cushion, craning his head down, lips by Mark’s ear. “You thought they looked so good, but they would look even better in that gut. Tsk.”

Hoffman, all the while, felt his face heating up, past the point of even sweating—just burning up, drying up with embarrassment, wanting to crumble into a pile of dust. But all the same, he felt that pulse, that throb return—the instinctual itch that only gripped him when Peter spoke that way. He muzzled himself, keeping a sprinkled, chocolate piece between his teeth, masking any words or expressions that might seep out.

“Can you even sit up? Like correctly?” Peter tilted the chair back before letting it spring around into place.

Mark just sheepishly shook his head, eyes looking glossy, like he could weep from being cornered, berated.

“Feeling stuck? Trapped? Kinda like what you were gonna do to me, huh? Well… maybe not exactly… You did this to yourself, you big hog.”

Mark winced at that. Whenever he’d seen pornos or read anything where people in risqué situations called each other names, it always seemed cheesy, or demeaning for the sake of it. But Strahm had a way of dropping his tone and curling his inflection that told Mark “We’re both pretty fucked for this, but fucked up is fun. No one has to know.” It was suffocating.

“Go on, let me see you get out,” Strahm instructed, backing up with his arms crossed, intentional pressure in his gaze.

Rolling up on its own was the first challenge, as the curve of his belly had extended up to his ribs, with little give to even bend forward in the slightest. The rich coffee drinks and milk that was mingling with all the dough in his stomach was unforgiving. Secondly, his love handles were just broad enough to be squeezed into place by the arm rests. (The latter had been an ongoing problem that had only reached an irritating point recently.)

“Need help, big guy? I mean, watching you struggle is nice, but I don’t have all night.” Strahm couldn’t help biting his lip.

“Fuck you,” Mark managed, panting it out.

“Don’t talk back like that, I’m being nice. Let me get you up.”

Peter leaned down in front of Mark, hooking his arms under his armpits, and used his whole body to hoist him to standing. The embarrassment of the ordeal left Mark incredibly hard, unable to hide it in the slightest, especially with his pants mostly unbuttoned.

“You’re welcome,” Peter tutted. He brought his fingers to Mark’s cheeks and squeezed. “What do you say?”

“Thank you,” he complied, lips squished together in the hold.

“Good boy. Now, get down. Hands and knees.” It was like he was a dog trainer prompting a mutt. Peter took one of the full boxes and let it plop to the ground by his feet.

“What’re you doing?” Hoffman knew it was stupid to ask, knowing well what was expected. But playing dumb earned him sass. And he liked that.

“It’s your dessert. I mean, you kept that whole other box for yourself, might as well finish the rest.”

Mark was on autopilot, finding himself grumbling at Strahm while carefully sinking to his knees and propping up his backside.

“God, you’re like a dog, aren’t you?” Peter sneered. “Good job behaving so well.”

“Thought I was a pig.”

“You’re whatever I say you are, you pathetic pug. Now, come on, eat up, I brought this for you.” Peter nudged the box under Mark’s face with the tip of his shoe.

“Shut up, or maybe I’ll eat you.”

“Kinky. I’d like to see it, big boy.” Peter positioned himself onto Mark’s lower back like he had the other night, except a little less gentle this time. “You know, I prefer the mask on, but at least this way I get to see your dumb mug while you’re shoving food into it.”

Mark just grunted and grit his teeth, parading as mostly annoyed as best he could. He had to admit that lobbing the donuts into his mouth by his lips and tongue was strangely easy, but his ongoing hunger was probably what kept him at it.

“I could keep you as a fat, pampered house pet. You like that?”

Hoffman paused. “What’s with all the animal stuff? Is that some kinda thing for you? I thought it was only the pig stuff because I’m big. Fuck, you’re a weirdo.”

“What about it? I wouldn’t be talking if I were you. You’re the one with your face to the floor making a disgrace of yourself just because I wanted you to.” He lightly kicked his heel to the side of Mark’s belly. “Go on, give me an oink, pet. A real messy one.”

Mark let out a snort, unable to articulate the word “oink” with two donuts crammed in. He figured it was what Peter would prefer anyway.

“I bet this whole precinct jokes about what a stereotypical fatass cop you are. I’d like to see you wobble around here just to see what people say about it, behind your back, when they think you can’t hear them… On the flip side, just think what I could do with you in private, at home. You’d make a good house-pig.”

Mark cut a cold, blue glare, letting the begrudging, bratty acceptance warm him. What if he did want to be Peter’s little house pet? All kept and plump and wanted… Maybe. It was a bit farfetched to realistically maintain. With his position on the force, being on and accessible almost all hours of the day? No way. But… Maybe? Possibly? His brain was still caught in a riled up haze, too in a frenzy to think correctly. But the little notion would live in the rafters of his brain, far off and private, taken out for those moments alone on the couch or during a long morning shower.

“I can’t eat anymore,” was what he wanted to say, but there was no need. Without realizing it, Mark had finished off what was below him… now having to put up with the resulting low-hanging gut obstructing his movements.

“There’s still another box,” Peter snipped, crisp and curt. “But… I’ll be generous. Today.”

The last word rang out, standing to set checkpoints for more days, more badbadwrongnasty encounters. How many more times would there be?

“Need me to roll you over or have you got it?” Peter mulled on, flatly as if he was asking a tax question to an accountant.

“I got it, you cunt.” Though Hoffman just barely had it, moving slowly with discomfort, not being able to hide a wince here and there.

For the slightest moment, Peter looked genuine, a real and helpful softening in his eyes. “Take a Tums. And a melatonin. I’m done for the night so I guess you are too.” He patted Hoffman’s lower belly as a basic gesture to leave (even though it elicited a different mild jolt in Mark), and did just that, being nice enough to take the trashed boxes with him.

Once more, he didn’t look back.

Mark glanced down at the way the precise pinstripes on his shirt bowed out over his rotund form, and then took in how empty his office suddenly felt.

“Guess I’ll go deal with this at home,” he regarded his erection with snark.

[jokeringcutio]

Hello <3 I've been following you for many years and I'm a big fan <33 I'm from Spain, sorry if my English is a little wrong :( On Halloween eve I come to ask you (if it's still open 😨) for a one shot of the grabber x reader, where reader goes trick or treating around the houses :)Thank you very much, I understand if you accept it or you don't have time, I wish you a very nice day <3

Hello, dear anon from Spain. (: Thank you for the request! Here's a little drabble for you, enjoy! ♡

Fandom: The Black Phone 2022 Pairing: Albert Shaw (The Grabber) x Reader (Au Pair from abroad) Rating: Teen Warnings: Au Pair Reader is from Abroad, Mention of Age Gap, Dark Undertones. Overall quite sweet.

Summary: You are an Au Pair stopping at the Grabber’s House. Romantic (with perhaps the tiniest hint of darkness underneath).

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Trick or Treat – Sweet Grabber x Reader version, Drabble

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The chilly autumn air nipped at your cheeks as you walked down the dimly lit street, the excited laughter of Johnny and Louisa ringing in your ears. You were their au pair, a stranger in this foreign land, but tonight, you felt like a part of something magical. Halloween.

"Trick or treat!" the children chorused as you approached a house adorned with cobwebs and flickering jack-o-lanterns. Standing on the porch was a man wearing a pale devil's mask, his eerie grin somehow welcoming.

"Ah, excellent costumes!" Albert Shaw admired, his voice low and rich like dark chocolate. "A heroic knight and a beautiful fairy princess – truly splendid!"

"Thank you!" Louisa beamed, her small wings fluttering with excitement.

"Here you go," he said, dropping handfuls of candy into their waiting bags. The sugary treats clinked together, their sweet promise almost tangible.

"Thank you, mister!" Johnny grinned, his eyes shining with delight beneath his toy helmet.

You stood back, watching the exchange with a mixture of curiosity and wonder. Halloween was a night of secrets and mystery, and the man in the devil's mask seemed to embody that spirit. There was an undeniable allure about him, despite the sinister disguise he wore.

His eyes, hidden behind the mask, shifted to you as he held out a handful of candy. "And for our lovely au pair..." His voice was like velvet, wrapping around you and pulling you in. You felt your cheeks flush, intrigued by the mystery this man exuded.

"Thank you," you murmured, accepting the candy and feeling a shiver run down your spine at his gaze – intense and penetrating despite the disguise. The shadows cast by the jack-o-lanterns danced on his face, casting him in an otherworldly light that only heightened the allure.

"Allow me," he said, reaching up to remove the devil's mask. As it came away, you found yourself staring into a pair of piercing blue eyes set in a rugged, handsome face. A hint of silver threaded through his chestnut-brown hair, which he casually raked back with one hand. He appeared older, perhaps too old for you, but somehow, that only added to his charm.

"Albert Shaw," he introduced himself, extending a hand to you. "Pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise," you replied softly, placing your hand in his. The warmth of his grip sent another shiver down your spine, making you wonder what it would be like to have those hands elsewhere on your body.

“How did you know I am their au pair and not their mother?” you asked, curiously. As you spoke, the air around you seemed charged, electric. The night took on a dangerous edge, something haunting lurking just beneath the surface. You couldn't help but feel drawn to him, the darkness and the unknown beckoning you closer.

“You’re too young to be their mother,” Albert pointed out to you. “Plus, you are the most exotic Flamenco dancer I have seen tonight. The dress fits you like a glove.”

Something in his eyes glittered, and you felt your cheeks flush at the compliment he gave you. “They picked it out for me,” you said, gesturing at Johnny and Louisa. What else could you say? You felt a little embarrassed, really. Especially with the way Albert’s eyes seemed to rove over your frame as if he was looking at more than just the costume. Then his eyes suddenly darted up again and the faintest hint of a smile appeared in the corner of his lips.

"Beautiful night, isn't it?" Albert remarked, his voice low and seductive.

"Y-yes," you stammered, trying to maintain your composure as your mind raced with thoughts of desire and intrigue. "It's... enchanting."

"Indeed," he agreed, his eyes never leaving yours. "Halloween has a way of bringing out the hidden desires within all of us. The masks we wear, the secrets we keep… It's a night when anything seems possible."

"Even the forbidden?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. But despite the loud noises of the kids roaming the streets, he seemed to have heard you.

"Especially the forbidden," he confirmed, his gaze darkening with lust. "There's something thrilling about exploring the unknown, don't you think?"

You nodded, unable to tear your eyes away from him. The air between you crackled with intensity, and for a moment, you were lost in the spell he had woven around you. Halloween had become more than just a night of costumes and candy. It was a gateway into a world of dark romance and dangerous temptations, embodied by the enigmatic man before you.

And oh! How you longed to explore whatever darkness that man had to offer you.

A loud bark broke you out of your trance. A dog came bounding up behind the man and you heard the kids gasp. Johnny, especially, loved dogs.

“Ah, this is Samson,” Albert said as he sunk to his knees to pet the rather large dog that had appeared beside him. You felt Lousia hide behind your legs. She wasn’t as fond of dogs as her brother was. But Albert was running his hands over Samson’s neck, scratching the dog who seemed to enjoy the attention.

“Don’t worry,” Albert soothingly said, his attention fully on Louisa now. “He won’t bite.”

As if that was a cue, Johnny took a step forward and raised his hand, wanting to pet the dog. You tusked him, but Albert interfered.

“It’s fine,” he said, blue eyes on you. “Samson is a sweetheart,” and your heart nearly skipped a beat when you saw his warm gaze upon you and heard the low timbre of his voice. Sweetheart. Had he said it like that on purpose? But before you could think too much about it, his eyes were back on Johnny and he helped the boy to the dog. “You may pet him,” he said. “He likes it.”

Albert helped Johnny run his hand past Samson and you watched how the dog seemed to relax. Behind you Lousia tucked at your skirt, still scared.

"Let's go get more candy!" she said, pulling you along with her. You had to try and keep your balance and avoid tripping over your skirt, but Louisa was quite determined. And upon hearing and seeing his sister drag you away, Johnny seemed to forget Samson and came rushing towards you. He grabbed your sleeve and started to pull along.

“More candy, yay!” he shouted. And you looked over your shoulder at Albert with a look of defeat. How you longed to have talked to him a little longer.

As if he thought the same, he stood up and straightened his spine, reaching up as far as he could to call after you. "Wait," his voice soft yet commanding. "Come back after the children are in bed."

Come back? Your eyes widened at the dishonorable suggestion. You and the much older man, alone, in a house, late in the evening? Louisa and Johnny’s mom and dad would kill you if they found out. But perhaps… perhaps you could trick them. Tell them you went for a drink with Sophia, the other au pair you had recently met, and got along with fine. They would buy that excuse.

"All right," you agreed, feeling a shiver of anticipation race down your spine. You couldn't shake the sense that something extraordinary was waiting for you behind those doors.

Later that evening, still wearing your costume and tired with sore feet, you approached Albert's house once more. Your heart pounded in your chest as you rang the doorbell, an inexplicable blend of fear and desire coursing through you.

Albert opened the door without his mask, his blue eyes piercing through the darkness. "You came back," he said, his tone layered with intrigue and hunger.

"Of course," you replied, trying to sound braver than you felt. "I couldn't resist."

"I am glad you came," he said, a smile curling his lips in a pleasant, warm way that sent tingles down your tummy. He was older, perhaps too old for you, but that only seemed to make him more alluring. The lines on his face spoke of experience and wisdom, and you found yourself yearning to feel the touch of his hands.

“I seem to have lots of leftover candy this year,” he lamented. But there was a certain tune to his voice that betrayed it wasn’t as much a complaint as it was meant as a conversational starter. He leaned against the doorway, arms crossed in front of his chest. A teasing glint in his eyes betrayed how happy he was that you had returned for him. Seeing that brought another gust of warmth to your core.

"Your costume is quite… alluring," he remarked, his eyes roaming over your body with undisguised appreciation.

"Thank you," you replied, heat rising to your cheeks. "Yours was very mysterious."

"Ah, yes," he said, smirking. "The devil himself."

"Maybe you're not so different from him," you teased, feeling bolder by the moment.

"Perhaps not," he agreed, his eyes darkening with desire. "But I can assure you, I'm far more interesting."

The intensity of his gaze sent shivers down your spine, and you found yourself wanting nothing more than to be enveloped in his embrace. To feel the strength of his arms around you, the heat of his body pressed against yours.

"Can I offer you something to drink?" he asked, gesturing at the space behind him, effectively inviting you into his house.

Is this smart? a tiny voice inside of your mind screamed at you. But you were too excited and too intrigued to listen to that voice of reason. You knew you wanted to head inside, and not just because of the cold that started to envelop you while you stood on his porch.

“You can help me get rid of some of that leftover candy,” he suggestively added, his voice low and seductive. His blue eyes were fixed upon you, his intentions clear.

"Yes, I'd love some," you replied, knowing full well the candy was just an excuse to stay near him. You wanted to know more about this man, felt like he was a magnet pulling you in.

Albert smiled broader upon your answer and unfolded his arms. "Come with me," he said.

As he reached out and placed his hand on your shoulder, a shiver of anticipation raced down your spine. Finally, you were experiencing the touch you had longed for all evening. The sensation was electrifying, sending waves of heat coursing through your veins.

As you followed him, the door closed behind you, shutting out the world and leaving you alone in this mysterious man's domain.

~ Fin ~

If you enjoyed:

~~ Masterlist - Request Box  ♡ Support me on Ko-Fi ♡ In the days running up to Halloween, I will be posting Halloween-themed Reader-inserts. Some will be smutty, some will be dark, others will be sugary sweet. Follow me to read more. Love you all