#whys this refusing to show up in the main tags... so mean to me...

[cyrusbug]

I think they should've been allowed to go on cute dates in rebooted

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest.

Zipper

Day #12 - Prompt: Ow! | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: M | CW: Aftermath of a Sex Injury | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Minor Steddie | Tags: Gareth's Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day, And Eddie Tries To Make It Better, While Goodie Tries To Make It Worse

"Is it bad? It feels bad," Gareth says, clearly refusing to look down again. And, he's gotta say, Eddie doesn't blame him. He wouldn't want to look down either if it was his dick in this condition.

"Well," Eddie says, as diplomatically as he can, "it's not great."

Gareth whines from his place on the closed toilet seat, as Eddie is squatted down between his thighs. Looking, examining. 

"It's probably gonna fall off," Goodie chimes in, and Eddie reaches over and swats at him. 

"Stop it," Eddie chides, because that's not gonna help anything, then he reassures Gareth, "It's not gonna fall off."

Goodie laughs his ass off, and Eddie's gonna kill him if he keeps this up. Gareth's freaked out enough as it is. These things happen, and yeah, Gareth seems more prone to stupid accidents than the rest of them. But still. This is brand new territory, even for him.

But Eddie's pretty sure it probably feels like it's gonna fall off, even if it isn't, because goddamn, fucking ow. 

The door out in the main room of the hotel opens and closes, and then Jeff is in the doorway of the bathroom, asking, "Why does it look like Eddie's examining Gareth's dick?"

"Because he is. Gareth tried to rub it off," Goodie says, dryly.

"He didn't try to rub it off," Eddie clarifies. 

Jeff leans over Eddie's shoulder, "Looks like he tried to rub it off."

"I didn't try to rub it off!" Gareth shouts. "If you aren't gonna tell me what I need to do to fix it, then let's all stop looking at my junk."

Eddie laughs, because it's ridiculous. It's not like he asked to look. Definitely not. Eddie lifts it up one more time, and man, it looks like he's been stabbed in the dick with an icepick, right under the head.

"What happened?" Jeff asks, and Gareth sighs, because he's already been through this twice before and he's beyond fed up. He told Eddie, and then told it all again to Goodie when he showed up, even if he really didn't want to, Eddie's sure. 

And now Jeff is here and wanting to know, too.

"So, I was fooling around with this girl last night," Gareth says, like he's giving witness testimony in a murder trial and not a sex story.

"And she bit your dick?" Jeff asks. 

"Tried to Lorena Bobbitt it right off," Goodie riffs.

"Yeah, with her teeth," Eddie adds, piling onto the bit. Can't help it. He feels sorry for the kid, but not that sorry.

"Guys!" Gareth shouts, and they all fucking laugh. But let him continue.

"We were fooling around, and she was grinding on my lap, my cock, and it got caught up against my zipper in a weird way," Gareth says, and the rest of them all shift uncomfortably, as if their dicks might be the next in line for such an injury.

"It didn't hurt while it was happening?" Jeff asks, being far more empathetic and reasonable than Eddie thinks Goodie or him have been.

"Of course it fucking hurt, she was rubbing a hole into my goddamn dick through my underwear with little metal teeth."

"Well, why didn't you stop her?" Jeff asks, like a reasonable solution to this would ever be the answer. 

"Because there was a girl grinding on my dick, Jesus H. Christ, why do you think, asshole?" Gareth snaps, and they all laugh. 

"I mean, you could have paused and done some rearranging, right? The options couldn't have only been 'no grinding' or 'hole in the dick', right?"

"I don't know, I didn't want her to stop what she was doing. Okay? It felt good, except for the whole making an extra hole in my dick part."

"Of course," Goodie says dryly, "that makes sense."

"Shut up, Goodie. Like you'd have ever stopped a fucking hot girl from grinding your dick down to a bloody nub," Gareth snips, covering his face with both of his hands. "Just fix it, Eddie."

Eddie isn't sure how he's supposed to fix this. It's just gonna have to heal. He can't make a hole in the dick go away. He's not a magician.

"Did you have sex like this?" Jeff asks.

"Are you crazy? I have a hole in my dick, no, I didn't have sex. I have a hole in my dick and I didn't even come. I have regrets."

And they all laugh.

Gareth's had enough, Eddie can tell.

"Okay, okay, show's over," Eddie says, and shoos the other two out of the room, the door closing behind them as they go, and then it's just him, still perched between Gareth's thighs.

Once it's just them left in the bathroom, Eddie looks up at Gareth, "Do you think you need to go to the ER?"

Gareth shakes his head, "No. It just really fucking hurts. I regret everything."

Eddie smiles, but keeps himself from laughing. It's hilarious, but it probably feels like a razor blade's stuck into his dick. It's the stuff of nightmares.

Eddie nods at him, "Okay. Then take a shower. Wash it really fucking good with soap, even if it burns, and then put some ointment on it. I'll find some gauze, or a band-aid, something. Then just keep an eye on it. Make sure it's getting better, not worse. Unless you really do want it to fall off?"

"Definitely not," Gareth says.

"Okay, that's the plan," Eddie says standing up. It's times like these that he wishes he wasn't the go-to whenever any of them need help, because this? This wasn't on his schedule for the day.

"Hey," Eddie says into the phone, "I touched another man's dick this morning. Thought you should know."

Steve laughs into the receiver, thousands of miles away, "What'd Gareth do now?"

Eddie smiles, big and bright. At the knowledge that Steve knows him, trusts him, loves him. 

And then he starts into the whole grizzly debacle, from top to tip. 

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇

Notes: This is inspired by based off of Kevin Smith's comedic retelling of his first night with his wife. (Explicit story, but linked if you want to hear the original.)

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Things Learned and Unlearned Ch. 14

Series Summary: Y/N has spent her life trying to outrun her mother's reputation. When she meets the rich and successful playboy, Dean Winchester, how quickly can he get her to stop running?

Pairings/Characters: Dean Winchester x Y/N, Sam Winchester, Jessica Winchester, Lucy Winchester (OC)

Warnings: Each chapter will have it's own warnings, but there will be smut, seduction, virgin!reader, playboy!dean, Edwardian era BS attitudes surrounding sex and women. (Technically it's set in 1900 and the Edwardian era started in 1901, but you get it.) Angst, Fluff, all the good stuff that regularly pops up in my series. 😁

Chapter Warnings: Implied smut, angst, attempted sexual assault - it's stopped, but there is non-consensual kissing and fondling. Misogyny and violence.

Word Count: 5,115

A/N: Here's Ch. 14, the penultimate chapter! I so appreciate all the love and support you're all giving this series. Hope you enjoy the latest installment. ❤️

Series Master List || Main Master List || Tag Lists

Dean bounded up the stairs leading to his front door, two at a time. He needed to get in and out quickly. He was already running behind and he didn’t need to be waylaid by his family. He just needed to change for the show before going to pick up Y/N. He had a lot of clothes stashed away in her hotel wardrobe, but not his tuxedo. 

Just the thought of Y/N made anger churn in his stomach again, but he pushed it aside. Thoughts of her had kept him distracted all afternoon, and it was affecting his work. 

It was pointless to be angry, anyway; it didn’t matter enough to be angry. There had always been a fifty-fifty chance of her staying or going. Sure, maybe her decision to let him bed her the night before had confirmed for him that she meant to stay, but she obviously didn’t see it that way. 

So that was the end of it.

He walked carefully through his front door, happy to find his home quiet; no one was around as he crossed the foyer to the wide staircase that led up to his bedroom. When he was halfway up, however, he heard Jessica call to him from the bottom.

“Dean! You’re here.”

He sighed. “Evidently.” He said as he stopped and turned back, trying for a smile as she climbed the staircase to join him.

“Why are you here?”

“Well, I do believe I live here.” He said sardonically. 

She cocked her head and gave him a look that said she didn’t think he was funny. “You know what I mean. You’ve barely been around since we’ve been here. Or should I say,” she raised an eyebrow, “since Y/N’s been here.”

Dean gritted his teeth. “I’ve been busy with work. Which is why I’ve gotta get going now.” He pointed upstairs. “I’m late.”

Jessica frowned. “You’re late for work at,” she checked the grandfather clock on the landing. “at seven thirty in the evening?”

Dean sighed. “I’m taking potential business partners to The Manhattan, the vaudeville theater, for a show tonight. I’m just here to get dressed.” 

He’d invited George Taskett and Simon Brighton, the owner of Clearwater Pulp and Paper to come to the show with them. He refused to believe the small voice in the back of his mind that told him he only did it so he wouldn’t be alone with Y/N all evening. He’d simply done it as an apology for being utterly distracted in their meetings earlier that afternoon.

He turned away from Jessica to start up the stairs again, but she reached out to grab his wrist. 

“Wait. I…I wanted to talk to you.”

Dean sighed. “Sure. What is it?”

Jessica let go of his wrist to cross her arms over her waist, stepping up one stair so that she was on the same step as Dean, leveling their heights. It wasn’t often that Dean found himself standing nearly eye to eye with a woman, but Jess was very tall. 

Perfect fit for Sam. Dean thought, even as the fierce look in her eye had him bracing for an onslaught.

“I was wondering what…what are your intentions with Y/N?”

Dean frowned darkly. “Excuse me?”

Jessica raised her chin. “You heard me. Y/N is a respectable woman.”

Dean’s voice was low and strained. “Have I ever insinuated that she isn’t?”

Jessica made a scoffing noise. “I know about the offer you made to her, and I believe that it was less than respectable.”

Dean’s jaw hurt from clenching it so tightly as he spoke. “My private affairs are no business of yours.” He said, turning away and starting back up the stairs.

“They are my business when they concern my governess, a respectable young woman that we’ve taken under our wing.” 

She followed him up the stairs to the landing. “Someone we see as family!” She called out to him when he started up the second half of the stairs.

He turned back to her. “Y/N is a grown woman and is quite capable of making her own decisions. In fact, I doubt very much she’d appreciate this little conversation.”

Jessica stomped up the steps after him. “I know for a fact she doesn’t want me to talk to you, because she told me not to. But I thought…” 

She reached his level again and stared at him for a moment. Then her shoulders deflated and she shook her head. “I thought I could get through to you. Make you understand that you’re throwing away a remarkable woman, kind and caring, beautiful, intelligent.”

Dean waved away her words, running up the rest of the stairs. “I’m well aware of Y/N’s attributes, thank you.”

“Then why wouldn’t you marry her? I mean my god, you love each other, that much is obvious, so I simply don’t understand your reasoning.”

Dean went deathly still, alarm bells screaming in his head. The same bells that had been going off for weeks now, maybe longer. 

He looked back at Jessica and knew his anger was obvious. “That is absolutely not true and you have no idea what you’re talking about! I am not ‘in love’ with anyone, and I have absolutely no intention of ever being married!”

He took a breath and attempted to speak calmly, but his voice was still raised. “Now, since you seem to know all about my life anyway, I’ll tell you straight out that Y/N has refused my offer and will be returning home with you in a couple of days. Seems as though continuing on as a ‘respectable woman’ as you put it, has trumped being ‘in love’.” He spat the words out, his stomach bound in knots and the now familiar panic climbing in his chest.

He turned away from her again and Jessica chased after him. “I simply don’t understand you!” She shouted at him. 

He spun back to face her. “You don’t have to understand me! You just have to mind your own damn business and stop-”

“Mommy?”

Lucy’s little voice interrupted Dean and he turned, still breathing heavily, to see Lucy standing in the doorway to her room, rubbing her eyes. She’d obviously already been in bed and their shouting had woken her up.

“What’s wrong?” 

Jessica walked over to pick her up and give her a shaky smile. “Nothing, poppet. Uncle Dean and I were just…talking.”

Lucy pouted. “Loudly.”

Dean reached over to pinch her cheek lightly, trying hard to keep his voice level. “Sorry, kiddo. Didn’t mean to wake you. I’ve gotta go now anyway, so you go on back to sleep.”

He turned away quickly before Jessica had the chance to say anything more. He tried desperately to erase her words from his mind, but they summed up one of his worst nightmares and he had a hard time wiping them away.

***

Y/N was just starting to wonder whether Dean was simply not going to come, when she saw him appear on the other side of the garden doors, knocking gently.

She stood up from her chair and waved him in. He opened the doors and stepped through, bringing the scent of cold air with him.

He nodded at her and she smiled a false smile.

He cleared his throat before speaking. “I apologize for being late. Work went longer than I expected. But we made a lot of progress. I hope you don't mind but I've invited George Taskett and Simon Brighton to the show with us this evening. Just as a gesture of goodwill while negotiations are being finalized.”

Y/N nodded. “Of course. That's smart.”

He nodded back and an awkward silence sat between them for a few seconds before Dean picked up Y/N’s coat from the chair and held it open for her.

“Well, shall we?”

***

As they jostled along the New York streets, Y/N found herself getting more and more annoyed at the continuing silence between them. If this was how the rest of their time together was going to go, she didn't think she could take it. 

She turned to look at his stiff profile; it was gorgeous like a marble statue, and just as unmoving.

She sighed. “Are we honestly not even going to talk about this?”

She saw his jaw tick. Movement at last! “Talk about what?” He asked, dully.

Y/N refused to answer such a ridiculous and redundant question, merely staring at him until he finally turned his head slightly to look at her briefly before rolling his eyes and looking forward again.

“What is there to talk about, Y/N?”

Y/N barked out a laugh without humor. “A lot, potentially.”

He growled slightly under his breath, and shifted in the seat so his torso faced her. 

“Have you changed your mind? Hmm? Ready to accept my offer after all?”

Y/N's heart squeezed tight and she heard a voice in her mind shout a resounding “Yes!” But she shook her head sadly. 

“No, but-”

“Then that's it, isn't it?! It’s finished. There's nothing else to discuss because we’ve already discussed it. So that's it, and we're done.”

Y/N felt like she'd been kicked in the stomach. She knew he was referring to the discussion being over, but the words went much deeper than their current conversation and they both knew it.

She nodded slightly and turned to stare out the front of the carriage again. “Yes, fine.”

A few minutes later, they finally pulled up outside The Manhattan Theater, which was large and impressive. The lobby inside held a glittering chandelier and lively art on the walls; Y/N knew that under better  circumstances she would have been excited and eager to be there. But the world seemed dim now, all of it lacking in color.

Then, afew minutes after arriving, her evening got much worse.

George Taskett was approaching them with a smile, and walking just behind him was Byron Temple; and he was smiling the way an alligator smiles, like he’s just waiting to swallow you whole.

The two men reached them and George held out his hand to Dean. “Good to see you Winchester and thanks again for the tickets. I don't get out very often when we come up to New York, so this is wonderful.”

He patted Byron on the shoulder. “Hope you don't mind, but Mr. Brighton sent word that he'd been called back to the mill on some urgent business and couldn't attend. So, not wanting the ticket to go to waste, I invited Byron along.”

Dean's smile wasn't echoed in his tone.

“Of course not. Good thinking.” He reached out a hand to Temple and the man shook it, his beady blue eyes calculating and cold. 

Dean stepped back and put his hand on Y/N's lower back. “You both remember my companion, Miss Taylor?”

Y/N bowed her head towards the two men. Taskett smiled warmly. “Of course I remember. Couldn't forget such a lovely face.” 

“Indeed.” Byron said, smiling again and making Y/N's skin crawl. “You seem to have bloomed even more since our last meeting.”

Despite everything going on between them, Y/N pressed herself into Dean's side and was immensely grateful when he slipped his hand around the side of her waist to hold her there.

The lobby lights dimmed briefly, letting them know the show was about to start, so they all filed into the theater. George and Byron were sitting a couple of rows behind them, so they parted ways and took their seats, agreeing to meet in the lobby afterwards.

Y/N was very glad to lose Byron Temple's uncomfortable presence. But as she and Dean sat down beside each other, she began to feel the tension grow between them once again. 

The show began, and the first act was a dancing clown who did a lot more prat falling than dancing. Everyone else laughed and clapped at his antics, but even though Y/N clapped along, she couldn't force herself to laugh. 

She smiled politely through the other acts; a man and a dog who performed tricks together, a comedian who told vaguely risque jokes that she wouldn't have understood a few months ago, a male and female dance act who were decidedly better than the clown, and many other interesting acts. Sometimes they were very talented, and sometimes just unusual. 

But Y/N knew that a few days ago she would have loved them all. Now; however, her heart was simply too battered to enjoy any of it.

Then, just before the last act of the evening, Lillian Russell came on stage. Y/N knew her name; she knew she was a singer. But judging by the reaction of the crowd, she realized that she must be an incredibly popular singer. The audience cheered loudly, clapping for a full minute as Miss Russell stood on stage, graciously waving and curtsying to the crowd.

As the cheers finally quieted, the orchestra struck up and the soprano began to sing. Her voice  was rich and sweet - certainly beautiful enough for Y/N to understand the reaction she’d received. She sang three songs, to the thunderous applause of the audience. But as she tried to leave the stage after the third, the crowd cheered for her to sing more. 

Someone near the front shouted, “After the Ball!” And everyone around him picked up the cry, chanting for her to sing the popular song. 

Y/N's stomach clenched as Miss Russell smiled indulgently and held out a hand towards the orchestra. “Alright, just the chorus through twice then, shall we?”

The familiar notes of the waltz began and Y/N felt tears come to her eyes, letting them fall as the soprano's beautiful voice gave heart wrenching power to the melancholic lyrics.

After the ball is over,

After the break of morn—

After the dancers' leaving;

After the stars are gone;

Many a heart is aching,

If you could read them all;

Many the hopes that have vanished,

After the ball.

As the orchestra played the closing notes and the crowd began to clap wildly, Y/N dipped her head towards Dean quickly.

“Excuse me.” She said, rising and making her way to the end of the aisle and then out into the lobby. Those lyrics had felt a little too relatable and the lilting melody brought back the memory of Dean waltzing with her around her hotel room.

Was that really only yesterday morning? Y/N thought. It felt like a lifetime ago.

She quickly made her way to the ladies room, incredibly grateful that it was empty while the rest of the audience watched the end of the show. She sat on one of the padded benches and tried to get ahold of herself. This whole evening had been a mistake. After their disastrous goodbye earlier, Y/N should have begged off.

As it turned out, pretending she was fine when her heart was splintering into tiny pieces was actually remarkably difficult.

After a minute or two, Y/N felt a little more in control, and splashed some cold water on her face at the sink, patting it dry with her handkerchief and then tucking it back in her purse. She took a big breath and walked back through the door, stopping dead in her tracks when she saw the man waiting for her just outside.

“I saw you run this way.” Byron Temple said in a dark voice. “I thought I should come make sure you were alright.”

Y/N squeezed her hands into fists, immediately disliking the fact that the ladies room was tucked away under the stairs, hidden from the main lobby. She supposed it was designed to give ladies some privacy, but that was the last thing she wanted right now.

She licked her lips and tried to smile. “That's very kind. But I'm fine, thank you. Just powdering my nose. If you'll excuse me, Dean will be waiting for me.”

She tried to step past him, but he snagged her wrist and pushed her further under the stairs. She tugged against his hold, trying to break it, but he held firm.

“Don't know why you're running back to that bastard. I can see that he's made you cry.” He ran his thumb across her cheek and she slapped his hand away. He merely chuckled. 

“I told you before, pet, to call on me when Winchester sets you aside. And I'm guessing by the tension between you two, and the tears staining your cheeks now, that it's either happened or is just about to happen.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.” Y/N said in a harsh whisper. “Now unhand me and leave me alone.”

“Don't be like that, pet. I promise that I can offer you a lot more than he can. I'll show you just how a woman like you should be treated.” 

Y/N yanked on her wrist again, speaking quietly but angrily. “You are disgusting and vile and I want nothing to do with you, do you hear me? Now let go of me this instant, or I’ll tell Dean what you've said here and he’ll-”

Byron laughed. “No you won't, and if you did, so what? Do you honestly think he’d care when he’s done with you anyway? Do you really believe he's going to toss away the massive deal that’s been brokered between our companies, a deal that’s been six months in the making - just because I upset his little whore?” 

Y/N clenched her jaw, embarrassment spreading through her at the degrading insult. But she had no doubt of her answer. “Yes. I know he would.”

But Byron ignored her, yanking her up against him and shaking his head. “I think what you really need is a taste of what you're missing out on.”

Before she could even squeal a protest he slammed his mouth over hers, shoving his tongue past her closed lips and making her gag. Acting completely on instinct, Y/N bit down on the slimy muscle invading her mouth, making Byron swear and rip his mouth away from hers. 

She could taste the coppery blood he left behind in her mouth, and then he backhanded her and the sharp taste of her own blood mixed with his.

“Fucking bitch.” He growled at her with quiet rage, pushing her backwards until she was shoved up against the wall. “I would have treated you so nice. But I guess now I have to show you what a real man does with nasty whores.” 

He slammed his hand over her mouth and nose, cutting off her air and making her panic instantly. He bent his head slightly, attaching his foul mouth to her neck, while his other hand was shoved up her skirts, grabbing at her thigh and pulling at the ties on her drawers as she struggled against him.

Then suddenly he was ripped away from her and she bent double, gasping air into her starved lungs. 

She looked up in time to see Dean smashing his fist into Temple's face, a loud crunch indicating that his nose was now broken. The older man fell to the ground with a howl and Dean immediately jumped on him, pummeling him endlessly with left and right blows, as blood spewed over the marble floor beneath them.

Coming out of her stupor, Y/N ran to Dean, pulling on his arm, just as a crowd began to gather. George Taskett pushed his way through the crowd to pull on Dean’s other arm, just barely managing to pry him off. 

“What on earth is going on here?” He shouted, obviously very confused.

Dean was breathing harshly, and his tuxedo was askew, but otherwise Temple hadn't managed to get in even a single blow.

“I'll tell you what's happening!” Dean shouted. “The goddamn deal is off.”

Both Y/N and George gave Dean wide-eyed, disbelieving looks. 

“Dean, don't.” Y/N said softly, beginning to tremble.

“What are you talking about, Winchester? What has gone on here?” George asked again, looking down at his Vice President laying on the ground as Byron covered his bleeding, broken nose and, horribly, spat out a tooth.

“If you think for one minute I'm going to do business with scum like this, a man so lacking in moralality that he would-,” Dean cut himself off and then waved dismissively at Temple, “well, then you're crazy.”

He grabbed Y/N's hand and quickly hustled her out through the gathered crowd. Y/N looked back helplessly at George Taskett, who seemed to be completely knocked for a loop.

Dean quickly hailed a cab and helped Y/N up into it. “Rialto Hotel, quickly.” He told the driver as he climbed in behind her. The driver clicked his tongue at the horses and they sped away. 

Dean tried to look at her more closely in the dim light of the carriage, pushing her disheveled hair off of her face. But Y/N was shaking too hard now, as the terror of the situation came crashing down upon her. She just shook her head and buried her face in Dean’s chest, weeping uncontrollably now that she was safe.

Dean gave up trying to see her face and just wrapped his arms around her and held her close. He lifted her out of the cab when they arrived, and refused to put her down until they were inside the room.

She stood in the middle of the floor, while he quickly lit all the lamps and closed the curtains. Then he returned to where she stood and gently peeled her coat off of her shoulders. He stayed behind her to take the pins out of her hair, pulling it back off her face while she inhaled deep, shuddery breaths, finally calming down enough to speak softly to him.

“Thank you.”

Dean just shook his head and turned her to face him, moving her into the light a little more and trying once again to see the damage. She watched his face contort with rage all over again as he saw her split lip and the angry bruise she could feel pulsing under the skin of her right cheekbone.

But he gritted his teeth and his voice was gentle as he kissed her forehead. “Just wait here, sweetheart.”

He moved off to the bathroom and she heard him running the bath. Tears began to fall again as he came back and led her into the warmly lit room, filled with the scent of lavender. 

He removed her clothes gently, and then helped her step into the tub. She looked back at him as he held her hand. 

“Will you hold onto me?” 

Dean nodded and stripped away his clothes quickly, stepping in behind her and sitting them both down in the warm, fragrant water.

For a little while he simply held her as she’d asked, pressing soft kisses to her temple and along her hairline. Eventually he took one of the clean cloths and ran it under the cold water tap for a moment before pressing it to the side of her face that was still throbbing.

“Y/N, what happened?” He finally whispered to her.

So she told him. Her voice was quiet and halting at first, but she eventually told him everything, including what had happened at the poker game.

Dean clicked his tongue. “Sweetheart, why didn't you tell me that sooner? I would have ended things with that snake immediately.”

“Exactly.” Y/N said with conviction. “That's why I didn’t tell you. I knew how important that deal was, how hard you'd worked on it, and I didn't want you to have to end it simply because of some insults from a jackass.”

Dean shook his head. “That wasn't something you needed to worry about.”

Y/N shrugged. “Of course it was. It was important to you.”

“Yes, but not more-” Dean cut himself off and Y/N felt him tense before he continued 

 “You should have told me.”

Y/N nodded. “Yes, I should have.”

Dean was quiet for a minute before pulling the cloth away from her cheek and kissing her there gently. “Ready to get out?”

She nodded again and Dean stood up to help her out of the cooling water.

He dried her off and then combed gently through her hair before braiding it, pampering her in much the same way as he had that first night they’d spent in the hotel together. Y/N knew she would have started crying again, if she’d had any tears left to shed. But she'd finally cried herself out and now she was just exhausted. 

Dean tucked her into bed and seemed to hesitate a moment before climbing in after her and pulling her back against his warm chest. Her heart hurt, and her head ached, but despite that, her tired mind slipped, fairly quickly, into a very restless sleep. 

Some time in the middle of the night Y/N woke to find Dean wasn't beside her. She sat up quickly and sighed in relief when she saw him sitting in one of the green chairs. The light in the room was dim, just one lamp burning, and he was cast in shadows.

“What are you doing?” Y/N called to him softly.

Dean got up and came to sit on the bed facing her. “You punched me twice in your sleep, and I thought maybe I was making you have bad dreams, holding you the way I was.”

Y/N shook her head and shuddered. “No. You weren't the bad guy in my dreams.” She whispered.

Dean pushed her braid back off her shoulder. “I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I'm sorry I brought him anywhere near your life.”

Y/N frowned. “But it isn't your fault. You couldn't have known. I'm just grateful for the rescue.” She took a deep breath. “You know…he's the reason - one of the reasons - I said no to your offer.”

Dean tensed. “Y/N…”

But she just continued. “Or, well, men just like him. He called me…” The word stuck in her throat and she cleared it. “He called me a whore, you know. And…he wouldn't be the only one. Most of the world would believe the same, if I stayed with you.”

Dean's jaw ticked, but he nodded. “Yes, I understand. And I’m sorry for that. The world can be an ugly, hypocritical place.” 

He licked his lips. “But what I’ve offered you, Y/N, it's…it's all I can offer. I can't…I won't get married, and I won't love you.”

Y/N felt what was left of her heart shatter completely.

Dean spoke softly, shaking his head. “I can't, sweetheart. I won't.” He reiterated before taking a shaky breath. “But you and Jessica are right.”

Y/N frowned, trying hard to keep the ever present tears at bay. “Jessica?”

“Yeah,” he scoffed slightly, “she took me to task earlier tonight. Said I had no right to make an offer like that to a respectable lady.”

He shrugged and one corner of his mouth lifted. “And she was right. You deserve more out of life than to be ostracized by the world. You deserve to get what you always wanted, what you told me you wanted all those months ago.” 

He smiled at her gently and ran his fingers along her jaw. “You deserve contentment, children, a respectable cottage and a…” He paused and cleared his throat, nodding as though he was answering a question in his own mind. “And a compatible husband.” 

Y/N wanted to shout at him that he'd made those things impossible now, that she wouldn’t find contentment without him, that the compatible husband she'd always wanted was sitting right in front of her. 

But she didn't say any of that; he'd made his feelings very clear, and she couldn't fault him for not loving her. It wasn't a given that just because she loved him with every fiber of her being, he was going to love her back.

“I won't love you.”

At least he wasn’t lying to her - trying to hold onto her under false pretenses.

She smiled at him now, through her brokenness. “Yes, I'll hope for those things, I guess. But…” 

She swallowed hard and tugged on his hand. “Will you come back to bed, and do those things you do to me that make me forget everything else? Kiss me until the world fades away to nothing but you and me?”

As he leaned in to claim her mouth in a searing kiss, Dean's bright green eyes glittered like jewels and she knew in that moment, that emeralds would always make her cry.

***

Y/N woke late the next morning and she wasn’t surprised by the empty bed beside her. She'd felt Dean disappear from her before the sun had even broken over the horizon. 

She sat up and saw the note that was tucked under her snow globe on the table. She wrapped the sheet around her and walked over to sit gingerly on the edge of the chair that was closest. She stared down at the folded piece of paper for a couple of minutes before picking it up and unfolding it. 

Dean's neat, bold handwriting took up the whole page.

Y/N read over the short note several times, hoping to find something more than the words on the page, but that was it.

She folded it back up and let it flutter to the floor as she wound up her snow globe and set it down on the table, staring at it as she rested her chin on her folded arms. For a long time, as her tears flowed silently, she drank in the frozen scene of permanent joy that could never be hers.

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters:

@lyarr24

@lacilou

@deans-spinster-witch

@globetrotter28

@suckitands33

@alwaystiredandconfused

@evznackles

@jackles010378

@impala67rollingthroughtown

@krazykelly

@candy-coated-misery0731

@envyaurora95

@spnwoman

@deans-baby-momma

@luvr4miya

@arcannaa

@viviwatchestv

@winharry

@ladysparkles78

@kr804573

Dean Fics Only:

@roonthelittlespoon920

@slamminmine

@zepskies

@safiyas-world

@aylacavebear

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom:

@kazsrm67

@slut-for-evans-stan

@sexyvixen7

@nancymcl

@hobby27

@waywardcheshire

Everything Incl. Fan Edits:

@k-slla

@leigh70

@eevvvaa

@kickingitwithkirk

@foxyjwls007

@notinthislife50

@roseblue373

@mishkatelwarriorgoddess

@avanatural

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

@deangirl96

@stoneyggirl2

[bengiyo]

I Hear the Sunspot Wasted Taichi As a Character

I went off a bit in the tags of @lurkingshan's Japanese QL Corner earlier, but I’m still annoyed enough about this to make a proper post. I wanted to leave this show alone because I liked Kohei and Taichi in the early episodes enough, but this show wasted our time for 6-8 weeks in a way that I find unforgivable. They took a loudmouthed, forthright, and well-intentioned character and made him stare blandly for almost two months while actively avoiding his and Taichi’s feelings. I’m so disappointed.

I’m glad @twig-tea has been covering some of what she remembers from the source material, because her added context has kept me from feeling so confused about this show. It feels rather insidious that this show would cut out any of Taichi’s struggles with Kohei’s queerness, and what reciprocity within himself means in favor of Taichi just looking confused at the camera for two months. It feels like a cowardly choice, because they didn’t want their main character to be unlikeable. It’s like they knew, like many J-BL recently, that they would not spend time in what becoming a couple for these two friends would mean. They also got so precious about the physical intimacy at the end in a way that just doesn’t work for me. Substituting food for intimacy doesn’t always work. I don’t even think ending on a kiss fixes this, because no amount of soft intimacy fixes the years of avoidance Taichi subjected Kohei to. 

It really bothers me how this show was so much longer than the film adaptation we got years ago only to be fundamentally worse because it refused to complete the full arc of their story. With the entire story available, why focus only on this initial getting together portion, strip out characterization, and also merge two female characters to create a worse one as a result? This ended up making both Taichi and Maya so unlikeable. Taichi went from demanding that Kohei speak up for himself and make sure people hear him, to someone who actively avoided Kohei’s clear confessions multiple times for two years! This is terrible!

Maya was such a frustrating character, especially because I’d spent time with Nana in Silent (2022). Nana presented a far more nuanced set of grief about hearing people engaging in hard of hearing and deaf people that Maya sorely lacked. Beyond that, her personality shifted with each episode to suit whatever needs the narrative suddenly asked of her. It was not fair to her actress, who never feels like she’s dialed in properly, and it’s unfair to both characters she’s asked to cover. Moreover, it’s unfair to the Taichi character, because so much of his stilted characterization ends up blamed on her entry into the story when it’s not her fault. It’s the writers’ fault for abandoning anything resembling an arc for Taichi.

This really was just such a waste. I really liked the building relationship between our leads in the early episodes, and I thought the actors had good working chemistry. I did not enjoy the entire back half of this show, and it was so annoying to see this show spin its wheels until the very last minute, before changing a key reunion scene for a half-hearted hug to conclude this wobbly narrative. These characters deserved a better adaptation than this, and it’s yet another strange adaptation this year afraid of the story they’re telling. I’m over it.

[canonmisogynyvictimstournament]

PROPAGANDA

ATHENA CYKES (ACE ATTORNEY)

1.) Despite supposedly being the MAIN CHARACTER of the game she was introduced in, she somehow still always ends up playing second fiddle to Phoenix and Apollo, to the point where she isn’t allowed to take the lead on even so much as a single case. Instead of the senior lawyers standing to the side in a mentorship role like they do for literally EVERY OTHER PLAYABLE CHARACTER, Phoenix and Apollo keep stepping in to outright take over for her. She literally does not make it through even a single case without needing some male character or other to swoop in and hold her hand every step of the way, not only Phoenix and Apollo but once even Blackquill, her rival prosecutor, as well.

Why? It has nothing whatsoever to do with her competence level. It’s a video game; her competence is determined by the player’s, just like everybody else. It seems like the writers just couldn’t STAND the thought of her doing anything on her own, or thought that the players would walk out en masse if it wasn’t the Phoenix and Apollo Show every second of gameplay. (And yeah, it DOES sometimes take me some time to warm up to new characters, but that was the case for Apollo too! At least give me the CHANCE to judge her on her own merits rather than assuming that I’ll immediately write her off!) Like, why did you even WRITE this character if you think so little of her?

2.) WHERE DO I EVEN BEGIN. She’s introduced in the middle of a male characters “trilogy” (Apollo justice) so the story is never about her. She appears in aa5 only to NEVER headline her own case IN HER INTRODUCTORY GAME and always fail unless a man comes in and saves her. Her own story is sidelined for Apollos. Next game, she only really appears in one case that’s a throwaway and still can’t do shit on her own. Ugh. She deserved to be treated better, more competent, etc.

3.) my girl is an attorney and a practicing psychologist at age 18 (youngest defense lawyer in the series) & is often shown to be more competent than her male colleagues, and yet is constantly pushed out/sidelined/generally treated like an assistant character rather than a lawyer (the assistant position in these games is usually reserved for characters who don’t have law degrees/are generally not educated enough to understand the courtroom proceedings to their full extent. athena is none of those things but she gets treated the same way by the game because. well. we know why.) Instead of being the main playable attorney in her debut game, the story is taken over by her male colleague (WHO ALREADY HAD A WHOLE GAME DEDICATED TO HIS BULLSHIT BTW) & her development is ignored in favor of his in both her debut game AND her second game. Even when her backstory IS explored it’s done via a male family friend of hers, meaning even when her OWN story is being told it’s not even about her it’s about simon’s lame ass. for extra context here in her debut game she is only the playable attorney in one case out of five, while the other (male) playable attorneys were playable in all or all-but-one of the cases in THEIR debut games. capcom hates women sooooo bad

KOTORI MIZUKI/TORI MEADOWS (YU-GI-OH! ZEXAL)

1.) first: ygo zexal is directed (and partially written) by known misogynist shin yoshida who is on record as saying that he would Never write female characters if he wasn’t being forced to by higher-ups. kotori’s voice actor signed a legal contract forcing him to include her character in Every Single Episode. she gets no duels that aren’t tag duels (2v2 duels), one of those is interrupted in the middle and all others she both loses, aren’t even shown in full, and all happen in the same episode. she is literally contractually required to be a major character and the dude in charge still point blank refuses to do anything with her despite the fact that she’s supposed to be the female lead of the series. please take pity on her for being handed to one of the worst people in the world and how despite the active attempts by other people to make her relevant in the story she was still denied that

2.) She only dueled once in the whole show and it was when she was brainwashed. Her main role is to only cheer the male protag on and say his name during his duels I guess.

[msbigredmachine]

On Sight - Part 3 (Jey Uso/OC)

The fact that we hate each other don’t mean we can’t fuck. Just don’t fall in love with me. Part 3 of my 4-part Jey Uso/OC series.

Warnings: The usual smut, toxic behavior, angst

Word count: 6.5k

A/N: I had to split it, so now it’s four parts. I wasn’t comfortable that it was so damn long lol.

ON SIGHT MASTERLIST

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

PART 3 - BOTH?

A tired sigh left your lips as you disabled the comments on your Instagram page. Another day, another disrespectful internet troll trying to fuck up your mood. 

The past couple of weeks were some of the worst you’d encountered in recent memory. Barely eighteen months since you joined WWE and you had already fallen prey to the vulturous dirt sheets and backstage drama. Your co-workers were now under the false assumption that you were in a love triangle with Jey Uso and Cody Rhodes. After the airport pictures were leaked, you and Jey trended on Twitter for twenty-four hours, as fans had a lot to say about what they believed was a new wrestling romance. You refused interviews, shut off your comments and mentions on all your platforms, and under ‘advisement’ from Hunter and management, you stayed off TV for a couple of weeks until the whole thing blew over. But now that you were home alone and not traveling, your mind was forced to return to what happened that day.

Return to the one person you had no business thinking about.

You did not miss Jey Uso. He did not deserve a second of your attention. Which is why you ignored all his phone calls and text messages, only stopping short of blocking his number. He did not deserve an ounce of your emotions. Even though you cried over him more times than you cared to admit. Even though you couldn’t get all those nights…and mornings…and afternoons…of passion, out of your head. He did not deserve any of your headspace. And yet, all you could think about was those chocolate brown eyes of his that pierced your soul…Eyes that now haunted your dreams…Eyes that were filled with rage just weeks ago. In all the times you got on each other's nerves, you had never seen him like that, and you weren’t sure you wanted any part of it.

The irony was, you had no intention of fraternizing with the talent when you joined the WWE. Workplace dalliances often went up in smoke. But there was something about Jey fucking Uso that you just could not seem to resist. Your mind kept saying no, even resorted to name-calling and bickering to repel him. But once your body gave in, there was no going back. Then, your heart followed. Thinking all would be well, you carried on like a naïve little girl, only to end up getting embarrassed. And it hurt like hell.

Your phone vibrated, and your partner in crime, Kayla Braxton’s happy face flashed at you, reminding you about attending Beyoncé’s show later tonight. How could you forget about the hottest tour in town? You all bought VIP access tickets months ago and there was no way you were going to miss it. Your hair appointment was in an hour and a custom-made outfit would soon be at your doorstep. You planned on looking your very best tonight; after all, you never know who would meet at a place like that…

Long story short, you were moving on. You were becoming the main character again, living your best life and damning all negativity to hell. Because you were that bitch. Simple as.

Fuck Jey Uso.

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

If Jey thought you didn’t have that many fans before, he found out the hard way that it was the exact opposite.

Your fanboys were coming for his head. The nicer comments were “It should’ve been me!” and the more caustic ones were not very PG. Only God knows how they would have reacted if they found out how the breakup went down; he’d be fucked six ways to Sunday.

The Tag team champion groaned, squeezing his eyes shut and regretting it instantly - because every time he did, your face was all he saw anymore. His brain seemed to enjoy tormenting him with memories of the mess he made that day. He could still smell the roses he’d bought for you. He could see you in that room, Cody’s lips pressed against yours...

...The tears in your eyes as he screamed at you…the pain in your voice as you screamed back…

He knew he fucked up. He said some terrible things he wished he could take back. But now he couldn’t go through a day without being asked about you and when he started dating you. Hilarious, as you weren’t even speaking to him. He glanced at his phone again to see if you’d finally replied to at least one of his numerous calls and texts. Of course not. You ignored every single one of them. You avoided him and refused to be anywhere near him. As much as he deserved your wrath, it was starting to get to him.

Scrolling through his Instagram, he noticed Liv Morgan’s recent IG story placed her at Beyoncé’s concert. Most of the Smackdown female roster were with her, yourself included. He knew you loved Beyoncé, so undoubtedly you were having a great time. Your hair was beautiful, and you looked hot as hell in that jumpsuit…

Fuck.

He thought this shit only happened in movies; the whole enemies-to-lovers schtick, catching feelings only for something stupid to happen and ruin the connection you were building. Well, it was happening in real life and happening to him, and honestly? It sucked.

His matches also suffered a drop in quality. By all standards they were still okay; he was still executing all his moves right and his mannerisms were adequate. But it wasn’t the same. Because he was missing you. Without you around anymore, he was useless. He'd become so used to being with you that your absence opened up a void that he felt could not be filled. 

His boys were starting to notice and were losing patience with him. 

“Dude, get your shit together,” Roman admonished him one evening in their locker room as they prepared for their tag match for the Smackdown main event.

“Chill. I’m just in a funk, that’s all,” he explained lamely, acutely aware that his older cousin would see right through his excuse.

“Not our fault that you fumbled Y/N. Don’t mean you should take it out on your performances and make the rest of us look bad.”

“Stop being an asshole, Roman,” Jimmy said as he taped his fingers, then turned his attention to Jey. “I’m still shook over the fact that you were sleeping with her all this time and I had no idea,” he said to Jey. “And why you tell Big Uce before me? Huh bro?”

“He never told me. I found ‘em fucking in our locker room,” Roman clarified.

Jimmy gaped at his brother with wide eyes. “Yooooo, what?! When was this? Damn, you nasty as hell, twin!”

“Fuck off, you and Trin done fucked in worse places,” Jey countered. “It was a long time ago, bruh. Now she won’t even look at me.”

“What d’you expect?” Roman continued. “What did you think would happen after what you did? And on top of those photos getting out? Yeah, you didn’t stand a chance. Own that shit, dude. You fucked up.”

Jey exhaled heavily. “Thanks man, way to make me feel like shit.”

“He is right, uce. That’s a bad bitch you let slip away,” said Jimmy.

Jey gaped at his brother and cousin, lifting his arms in exasperation. “Yo, ain’t you supposed to be on my side?”

“Yeah, but I like her a lot.” Jimmy elaborated. “She’s cool and sassy as hell. Now that I think about it, she was good for you. She kept you on your toes, and you were much happier, Uce. I saw it, and now that I know she was the reason, you need to figure out how to get her back, asap.”

Right. That was not happening anytime soon, not if you had anything to say about it.

The Bloodline’s match was against the team of Cody Rhodes and the Street Profits. Jey did his best to remain professional, but one look at the American Nightmare had his blood boiling. Once they locked up in the ring, his punches got stiffer, his move set became more aggressive. At one point, Jey wrapped his forearm around Cody’s windpipe a little too tightly in an illegal rear naked choke. In retaliation, Cody elbowed him square in the face, causing blood to spurt from his nose. It was all downhill from there, and they barely made it to the end of the match in one piece.

Backstage, a big melee erupted as Jimmy and Solo had to forcibly restrain their brother from attacking the American Nightmare. “You motherfucker! You broke my fuckin’ nose!” he yelled.

“And you beat the shit outta me and almost choked me out, so we’re even, motherfucker!” Cody shot back over Roman’s shoulder. “You got your receipt now. Are you happy? Huh? Are you satisfied?”

“No. Next time keep your hands off my girl!” Jey snarled.

Cody snorted. “Your girl, huh? You say she’s your girl, yet you had no problem disrespecting her and embarrassing her in public.”

“Aye, shut your fucking mouth!” Jey barked, incensed. In his peripheral vision, he could see you standing among the gathering crowd a few feet away, flanked by Kayla and Samantha. The other two women were looking at him like they wanted to beat his ass. In contrast, your expression was blank. Unreadable. He wished he knew what you were thinking.

“Did I lie? We all saw you, insulting her, calling her names over something that wasn’t even her fault!” Cody went on, “So since you wanna air this shit out again, fine. It was me. I put her in a position she didn’t wanna be in, and I regret it and I’ve apologized. But you’re a dumbass for treating her like that.”

The Tag team champ visibly bristled. It was one thing to hear from his family that he fucked up. It was a whole ‘nother thing to hear it from his opp. Both were rather humbling experiences, not that he would admit that shit to anyone. 

Cody picked up his ring jacket and threw it over his shoulder, his ire still trained on Jey. “Now that we got all the aggression out of the way, I strongly suggest that you get on your hands and knees and beg for her forgiveness. That’s a beautiful, smart, gem of a woman you’re taking for granted, and she obviously cares about you, which is a whole lot less than your bitch ass deserves.” With that, he walked away, having made his point loud and clear.

Jey twisted out of his brothers’ grasp, his teeth bared in an agitated sneer. When he glanced in your direction again, you were gone. 

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

You fixed what you hoped was an attentive look on your face while pretending to listen to Bobby Lashley talk. He was a nice guy, but he just wasn't…interesting. You’d been talking to him for most of the night and you were bored, despite the fun, albeit pounding, music booming through the club. The sooner you got out of here, the better, because the mannerisms and suggestive twinkle in his eyes told you he was expecting sex later tonight. Such a pity…he looked like he was good in bed, but it was painfully obvious that you didn't have much in common. Maybe you should start dating non-wrestlers again.

A chill swept through your spine out of nowhere. The hair on the back of your neck stood up as you sensed a new presence among the cluster of people already in the VIP section. Something pushed you to direct your gaze towards the entrance, and you did.

Jey.

Despite yourself, desire flushed through you as you watched him make his way into the room. As though feeling the heat of your stare, he looked in your direction and your eyes locked. Even from a distance, the sparks flew between you, sharp and explosive over the dimmed lights of the large room. You saw his gaze flicker between you and Bobby, a maelstrom of emotions swimming in his narrowed eyes.

Diamond came up behind him, looping her arm around his.

You felt your heart drop, and the pang of jealousy grew inside you like a weed. Of course. Why were you not surprised? 

Bobby calling your name finally broke the hypnosis. Tearing your gaze away, you cleared your throat and reached for your drink.

"We can leave if that’ll make you more comfortable,” Bobby offered, his tone sympathetic.

Adamantly, you shook your head. “Why? We’re staying right here.” 

“So, he your ex now or somethin’?” Bobby inquired, his eyes on you as he sipped his cocktail.

“He’s nothing to me,” you answered, a bit too harshly. “Let’s talk about something else, please.” You plastered a smile on your face, exponentially more interested in Bobby Lashley than you’d ever been.

The drinks kept flowing, to your delight. When a waiter placed four tequila shots on your table, you snatched one up and knocked it back with ease, followed by a second. Looking over to where Jey was seated, you saw him take a swig of Hennessy straight from the bottle. Diamond was on his lap, grinding all up on him. Releasing a deep breath, you cleared your throat, annoyed. The longer you sat there, the angrier you felt, and the more alcohol you consumed. Glancing back at him one more time, you gulped down the rest of your drink and turned to Bobby. 

"Dance with me." You stood up without waiting for his answer. He followed though, and soon you were encased in a moving sea of bodies. Your arms slid around his neck, feeling his hands grab your hips, holding you against him as you moved together with the music. He then turned you around so your back was against his chest, keeping you tight to him. You tilted your head as he nuzzled your exposed neck, his breath hot on your skin. 

“You’re lookin’ real sexy tonight, Y/N,” he whispered in your ear, his big hand draped dangerously over the top of your thigh.

You weren’t listening. You had caught Jey’s eyes again, and he looked like he wanted to murder somebody. Good. Fueled by alcohol and revenge, you ground your ass against Bobby’s groin, feeling his arousal, imagining it belonged to someone else. Your gaze remained on your ex, and your nipples tightened from the way he stared at you, knowing he was fully aware of his effect on you.

Done with the games, you stepped away abruptly from Bobby, swaying slightly on your heeled feet. "I don’t feel so good. I think I’m gonna head home," you informed him.

“You’ve had a lot to drink. Let me take you home,” Bobby said. His voice remained calm, but his teeth gritted with obvious sexual frustration. You saw right through it and hastened your exit.

“No need, I’ll just call an Uber. Don’t let me ruin your evening.” You turned and left without letting him answer. You felt bad that you did him like that, but you just had to get the fuck out of there.

The fresh air afforded you some relief as you waited for your Uber. It cleared your head a little bit, but then all the thoughts rushing in were on him. You hated that he still felt like home to you. It still felt like he was yours. Those feelings angered you because it was not true, and you knew you were being stupid, pathetic and weak. You knew if he’d fucked you over once, he’d do it again. You weren’t a child. You knew the games of the assholes of the world, and you couldn’t believe you’d given in to one, that all you had to show for it were the shattered pieces of your heart.

You really wished you could forget about Jey. You did. All you wanted was for the pain in your heart to subside, but he’d made such an imprint on you. It didn’t help that you were in l-

As soon as the thought emerged, you jammed your hands over your ears, as though this could somehow block out the mental reverberations of your emotions. No! Stop it! You’re not! Not with that prick-

“There she is. The queen ho herself.”

You heard her before you saw her. Diamond. With her hands on her hips, in a dress one size too small for her, adopting a smug, triumphant air as though she had finally won the prize she’d been chasing for a long time. “Nice to see you, girl,” she said, a fake ass smile stretching her face. “I see you been real busy sleeping your way to the top. So, not only did you fuck Jey and Cody Rhodes at the same time, you’re fucking Bobby Lashley now.” She scoffed. “Who’s the slut now, huh?"

The last thing you wanted was to entertain this bitch. But the drinks in your system made your mouth faster than your brain. “Run along, little girl. Don’t speak on things you know nothing about.” You made a shooing motion with your hand.

“Oh yeah? Well, you’re the talk of the town, sweetheart. Jey caught you having sex with Cody. You got tired of them two and now you’re with Lashley. Tell me. What’s it like getting passed around like a lit blunt?”

The fucking lies. That was what you could not stand. The dirt sheets, your nosy ass colleagues. And now this bitch. “Is that what Jey told you, or did you read that somewhere and your dumb, gullible little self swallowed it up like a sheep,” you sneered, eyeing her up and down. “Oh, I forgot…swallowing is what you do best.” 

A snide laugh left Diamond’s lips. “Jey was right when he said you’re jealous. You're pressed because I got your man now. Stay mad, ho.”

You giggled at the desperation oozing from her. She really tried it. “You ain’t got shit, bitch. You’re not half the woman I am. Every time you’re fucking him, you know damn well that he’s thinking of me. Are you enjoying the taste of my pussy, sweetie? Cuz that’s all you’ll ever taste when you’re kissing him or sucking his dick.”

The self-important demeanor slipped from Diamond’s features. “Bitch, I’ma beat your drunk ass right now. You’re begging for an ass whooping, and I’ll be happy to give it to you!”

“Bring it, bitch. Drunk or not, I’ll still wipe the floor with your dusty ass wig. But my nails cost a hundred dollars and they cute as fuck. Your bitch ass is definitely not worth it. Keep enjoying my sloppy seconds though." With that, you walked away, wondering where the fuck that Uber was.

When Diamond shoved you in the back, making you almost fall over from the impact, it felt like a fever dream. By the time you turned to face her, your vision had reduced to a sea of blinding red. The backhand you hit her with was so hard your entire arm stung. She’d barely hit the ground before you lunged again, clawing at her hair, but a pair of strong hands yanked you backwards before you could inflict another blow, pulling a few tracks out of her head in the process.

“Get off me!" you shouted, flailing wildly and swinging your fists. "Get the fuck off me!"

Jey’s arms wrapped tightly around your waist as his warm breath grazed your cheek. "Hey, hey, chill," he whispered firmly into your ear, "Let it go," he added as he glanced over at Diamond being helped to her feet by some of her NXT peers. A small crowd was starting to gather outside, and Jey knew you had to leave, now. “Come on, let’s get outta here.”

“Fuck off me! Let me go, that bitch need to die!” Enraged and out for blood, you continued to struggle against him as he led you away.

“Are you gonna leave me here?!” Diamond shrieked, watching Jey depart with you in disbelief.

Ignoring her, he took you to his truck which thankfully, was nearby. He literally dragged you, kicking and screaming, into the truck, shoving you into the passenger’s side, and drove off as discreetly as possible. 

He knew where you lived. He’d been to your place many times, just like you’d been to his. Though it was only a fifteen minute drive from the club, it seemed like hours as the deafening silence amplified the already suffocating tension between you.

“Why you out here fighting, huh? Whatchu doin’?” he asked, not backing down from the murderous look you shot him at his question.

“Fuck off, you ain’t my daddy!” you fired back. “You shoulda let me wash that bitch, I don’t care if she’s your girl.”

Jey sighed. “She’s not my girl.”

“Oh, really? Woulda never guessed from the way she was practically fucking you in the club.”

“I could say the same thing ‘bout you and Lashley. You were all up on him too,” he challenged.

Feeling your temper rise, you started to respond, but stopped short and shook your head instead. “Ya know what? Stop the car. Now. I’ll walk the rest of the way.”

"You ain't goin' nowhere in them high ass heels," he pointed out. "Besides, you in no shape to be alone right now. And we almost at your place anyway."

“Well hurry up cuz I’m feeling nauseous. Unless you want me to vomit right here. I’ll be more than happy to.”

The thinly-veiled threat motivated him to increase his speed limit. 

When he pulled up at your house, you refused his assistance and tried to get out of the car by yourself. You barely made it a few steps out, teetering on your heels, when you stumbled on the way to your door. 

"Need me to carry you?" Jey asked, knowing the answer already.

You looked at him miserably, "My head hurts."

“Where your keys at?” he asked, opening your purse to fish out your key. Unlocking the door, he picked you up bridal style and stepped through, as you wrapped your arms around him. 

"You're really strong, babe. I like my men strong,” you slurred and broke into a fit of hysterical giggles. 

It was going to be a long night.

In your living room, he laid you on the love seat, took off your shoes and quickly put a trash can next to you, just in case. Sitting in the arm chair across from you, he noticed you staring intently at him. "You okay? Ya need somethin’?"

"You’re sexy as fuck. Have I ever told you that?” you drawled, your smile wider than necessary as you slowly stood up.

Jey couldn’t help but blush at your compliment. "Ain’t nobody as sexy as you, princess," he replied, biting his lip as his eyes scanned your curvy frame appreciatively. Hands down the sexiest woman he’d ever laid eyes on. He ached for you, but he just couldn’t have you.

Your stance was shaky as you crossed over to him, swinging your leg over his lap to straddle him, and wound your arms around his neck. "Jey...I think I like you."

He blushed again, a little flustered by the complete 180 your behavior had taken between the car ride and now. Yes, he knew you were drunk, but he wasn’t exactly sober himself. This was suddenly a precarious situation. "I thought you hate me," he murmured against your shoulder, his hands finding your hips despite himself.

You pulled back and thought about it for a second, "Yeah, I still do. But I like you too. A lot. Maybe." Framing his bearded face in your small hands, your lips brushed softly over his nose, his cheek, his chin. “Can I kiss you? I really wanna kiss you.”

Tilting your head, you nipped his bottom lip, teasing the plump flesh with your tongue. With each press of your mouth, you added more pressure, and like butter next to heat, he melted, capturing your mouth with his, tasting the alcohol on your tongue. God, he missed kissing you. Missed your touch, missed you pressed up against him like this. But this was wrong. You were both clearly out of it, and he didn’t want you to feel like he was taking advantage of you.

Groaning pitifully, he broke the kiss and tried to push you away, acutely cognizant of your big, dilated pupils. "Princess, we shouldn't do this…Not when we both wasted."

You frowned and pouted, "We’re fiiiine. Come on, Daddy, I need you." Your lips latched onto his neck, knowing full well it was his sweet spot, rolling your ass against his crotch and feeling him harden underneath you. Your moans became throatier and sultrier, gradually stripping away the little self-control he had left. His lips crashed back over yours, his tongue moving roughly in your mouth, a fistful of your hair in his hand and your ass in the other, molding and kneading possessively. This was such a stupid idea on both your parts. But right now it was all you both wanted and consequences be damned.

You helped him peel off your short dress, tugging it over your head. His palms quickly roamed your smooth skin, stopping at your ass to squeeze the soft flesh. Then, shoving his hand inside your underwear, he flattened his palm right over the slick juncture between your legs and rubbed the wetness there, and he smiled as you moaned softly, as your skin quivered around his hand. But two could play that game. Your hand slithered down his pants, finding him rock-hard. You massaged his length with your fist, and just like that, you both found yourselves in a standoff; heated stare on heated stare, jerking each other off like it was a competition. 

Leaning in to nibble his earlobe, you whispered in his ear, "Fuck me right now, Uso. And make it count."

He didn’t need to be told twice. He shot to his feet, lifting you into his arms with your ass in his clutches. Your body was alluringly warm and soft and he almost wept from how good you felt against him. Cradling you to him, his long legs quickly ate up the distance between the living room and your bedroom. He laid you on the edge of the bed and took off his shirt. His mind and body were highly strung, desperate to find some relief and release all of the pent up tension from tonight.

Although you tried to pretend that this was nothing more than a quick fuck, you couldn't resist sitting up and slowly kissing his lips. He tasted so good, and his naked body felt even better. You let your hands wander over his chest, dragging your nails across his pec tattoos in as you kissed him, before you pulled away abruptly and shoved him onto his back with his legs still set on the floor. Seeing him stretched out over your sheets brought back memories which you quickly tried to dispel. You yanked his pants down to his ankles with force, frowning when a condom fell out of the back pocket. Picking it up, you tossed it onto his chest.

“Put it on,” you told him, denying yourself the enticing visage of him rolling the rubber down his shaft. For all you cared, it was meant for Diamond, but you decided to ignore that and focus on the hard dick that was waiting and ready for your use.

Jey’s eyebrows creased in confusion as he watched you take off your panties, only to turn your back on him. "Whatchu doin’?"

"What’s it look like I’m doin’," you shrugged, nudging his legs wide apart and adjusting yourself in the reverse cowgirl position. You took hold of him and eased yourself down his length, an agonizingly slow slide until your ass pressed down on his pelvis. You both groaned at the feeling, your head hanging down while you reacquainted yourself with his fullness. This was for the best; you wouldn’t have to look at his face or get caught up in his gorgeous eyes.

Placing your hands on his knees, you began riding him, hard, quick, focusing solely on your pleasure. Circling your hips, you moaned out as your pussy immediately clamped around every inch of his cock. He was panting already, his hands on your waist helping you to bounce on him. Jey looked on, completely hypnotized by the sight of your ass slapping against his pelvis, your pussy leaking all over the condom covering his cock. He gripped your ass cheeks before spreading them open so you could take him deeper. As he began to jut his hips upwards into you, you threw your head back with a whimper, losing yourself to the sweet sensation of him filling you, wet smacking sounds echoing around the bedroom as you met him thrust for thrust.

“You feel so good, princess," Jey breathed, caressing wherever he could reach, eventually finding your breasts and tugging your puckered nipples between his thick fingers. 

"Mmmm," you purred, trying to ignore his sexy voice. It was impossible to deny how good he felt, stretching you, testing the limits to the depth and tightness of your pussy. Still, you took back control by switching to hard, grinding motions, concentrating on getting off. Luckily you were almost there; he was nestled right against your g-spot as you gyrated your ass on him, edging closer to your orgasm.

Jey knew what you were trying to do, and the Alpha Male in him was not having it. Surging to his feet with you in his arms, he climbed into the bed and dumped you amongst the pillows back-first. Sitting back on his heels, he pried your legs wide apart and tapped his dick against your clit, then shoved it back inside you. The sharp, sudden invasion only fueled your pleasure, and you squealed, your moans coming in short, raspy pants as he pummeled your pussy hard and fast. Clamping a hand around your throat, he slammed his dick into your sweet spot over and over, making your eyes flutter shut in utter pleasure as you came all over him. This was just like old times...straight-up vulgar fucking that laid waste to your g-spot. Jey kept fucking you through your orgasm, looking down at the place where your bodies merged, and smiling arrogantly at what he saw.

"Look at that pussy, nutting all over my cock. So fuckin' good. You missed Daddy's dick, amirite?"

"Yes, Daddy," you moaned, turning your head to the side as he started rotating his hips, slow-grinding inside your pussy, "Aww, shit..."

“Look at me,” he growled, frowning when you ignored him. Again. Grabbing your cheeks between his fingers, he steered your face back to meet his heated gaze. “I said look at me,” he ordered, his voice gruff and menacing.

Moth. Flame. Just as you predicted, the feelings and emotions came flooding back. Just like you feared, you got lost in his eyes; the passion, the desire, the affection you felt for him, reflecting back at you. You groaned softly with him, and he leaned down and nuzzled your throat, his nostrils breathing in your scent, your skin, absorbing you. Your legs hitched higher around his waist, allowing him to hook them over his elbows and deepen his strokes, giving you that Henny dick, and your pussy reacted accordingly.

“Yeah, baby, grip that dick, squeeze me hard. You’re turned on, ain’t cha,” Jey grunted, licking the seam of your lips and doing the same to both your nipples, “I told you, this pussy belongs to me. You’re mine, princess. Don’t ever forget that shit.”

“Mmm, unnnhhh, mmmph…” You whined so sexily beneath him. All soft and delicate like a little kitten. You were looking up at him with your pretty eyes, dilated with a mix of pleasure and liquor as you took his big cock like a good girl. He was caught up in your eyes and the feel of your fingers clutching the back of his head, enticing him to kiss you again, adding extra tongue, his head seemingly about to combust from how good he was feeling. Sober or intoxicated, your sex was always incredible; he couldn’t get enough of you if he tried.

He swung your legs up onto his shoulders, your heavy pants dissolving into outright cries when he started jackhammering into you. His hips collided into yours with brute force, smothering you into the bed with his bigger body. It was mind-blowing, his dick at the bottom of your pussy, your toes touching the headboard, the heat between you spreading, scorching, hurtling towards an extinction-level explosion. And when it hit you, tears sprung to your eyes and you were robbed of all speech. Your muscles tensed and your legs shook from its intensity. 

Jey’s tortured groan warmed the crook of your neck as he detonated with you, his body shivering from indescribable pleasure. The harsh movement of his hips softened into gentle rolls in his attempt to pour every drop of himself in the condom buried inside you. Afterwards, he hovered weakly over your prone frame, drained and out of breath, before finding enough strength to pull out and crumple down next to you. Your last thought as you curled up against his warm body was how much you missed this. Missed him.

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

The horrendous sensation of your stomach climbing up your throat woke you up. Almost falling out of the bed, you half-ran, half-stumbled into the bathroom. You barely made it to the toilet bowl in time, falling on your knees to empty the contents of your stomach. Tears pricked your eyes as you struggled to breathe. You hated throwing up. It hurt like hell and you always felt like you were puking up all your insides.

Just as you thought it was over, another wave of nausea came along, wrenching through your entire body. You suddenly felt a hand on your back, another pulling your hair away from your face. Jey. You tried to ward him off, but he didn’t budge, holding your hair until you were done puking your guts out. He then helped you up, took your robe and put it on you, and it was then you noticed he was in his briefs and nothing else. He waited for you to wash your mouth and brush your teeth, then carried you back to the bed, picking up the bottle of water and aspirin he’d set by the nightstand.

“Here, this will help. Took some earlier this morning before you woke up.” He handed them to you and watched you closely like a dutiful spouse. The taste of water right after brushing your teeth was revolting, but you forced the medicine down. Once you were finished, you put the water away and pointed at the door. 

“You can get out now. Let yourself out when you’re done getting dressed." 

There was a heavy silence as he digested your flippant dismissal. “You bein' for real right now?” he said through gritted teeth.

“What? We fucked and we got off. Why you still here?”

"Because I care about you," he responded. His voice was tight, strained, struggling to keep his emotions at bay. "Okay? I’m here because I didn’t want you to be alone. I stayed cuz I wanted to see you…Baby, we need to talk."

“I ain’t your baby. And I don’t wanna talk to you.” Getting back out of the bed, you left him alone in the room. You were still tired and the morning light felt as blinding as headlights, but you trudged on, eager to put distance between you and him.

Hurrying into his clothes and shoes, Jey fought off his own hangover symptoms as he followed you into the living room. “You ignored every single one of my calls and my texts. I been tryna talk to you for weeks. Just hear me out, please, babe.”

With every syllable he uttered, a tsunami was gathering strength inside you, threatening to break and flood the wall you had tried so hard to put back up. Then, that wall gave way, and your lips moved, the raging tsunami powering through the throbbing sensation in your head. 

"Fuck you."

Jey flinched, chastened by your vicious rebuff. "Princess," he began, but you kept talking, your emotions spilling like a malfunctioning fountain.

"No, don’t fucking cut me off! Why would I ever want to speak to you again after what you did? You never gave me a chance to explain so why do you deserve to be heard? Huh?” You shoved your hair angrily out of your face. “After Cody kissed me, I came straight to you because I wanted to be honest with you and start off our relationship the right way. And instead you exposed us. I begged you, begged you to hear me out…but you didn't. You called me every name in the book over a misunderstanding! You humiliated me in front of our co-workers! Do you have any idea how that made me feel?"

He did. That was why he was here. To take responsibility for his actions. To start over, if you wanted to. He wanted you to understand that what he did hurt him as much as it hurt you. 

But you had no interest in any of it. “That's not all you did, either and this is the one that really pisses me off. You used me. You used Key West to break down my walls and get close to me. You stole my heart, you made me fall for you and then tossed me aside like trash. You treated me like I was nothing, in fact, less than nothing. I always knew you hated me, but I never realized you hated me that much!”

He felt his stomach plummet somewhere in the abyss. “Baby, I don’t hate you-”

The laugh you let out at his response sent a chill through him. It was sarcastic, humorless, borderline manic, and it burned his soul, the fire almost as scalding as the one that blazed in your eyes.

“You don’t just hate me, Jey. You despise me,” you corrected, your tone clipped and ice-cold. “You detest me. You would never have done what you did if you don’t. You hurt me on purpose, and I blame myself because I was stupid to think you actually cared about me. I let my guard down and that’s on me. But mark my words when I say it will never, ever, ever, happen again. I swear on all four of my grandparents’ graves. You fucked with me for the last time.”

Jey forced down the lump that had formed in his throat. The regret in his eyes was palpable, looking like a lost puppy as he tried to plead his case. “Y/N, please-” 

"Don’t touch me!" You jerked away when he tried to reach for you, your heart lurching at the hurt in his eyes. “Just fucking leave, alright? Leave me alone! Go back to Diamond. You can fuck her all you want now, cuz as far as I'm concerned, there's nothing between us."

Jey came closer to you, his eyes narrowed and unwavering. "After last night, we both know that’s bullshit,” he stated confidently.

For one agonizing second, you wanted to choke him out. You wanted to rip your heart out of your chest, hold the battered organ up in front of his face, and scream: "See this? This is what you did to me!" You were so upset; your legs were about to buckle and you just wanted him gone. You couldn’t bear to be near him anymore. "Last night was a drunken mistake. Period. We’re done, Jey. I don’t ever want to see you again. Get out!" Walking over to the door, you flung it wide open and glared pointedly at him.

A distraught Jey struggled to process this turn of events. He didn’t want to leave you. Not like this. But the tears in your eyes and the quivering of your lip told him everything he needed to know. He had done an unforgivable thing by breaking your heart. Breathing out a dejected sigh, he slipped past you without another word and walked out through the door, out of your life, just like you asked him to, his chest tightening with every step he took.

Slamming the door shut on the man you loved, your legs gave out at last, and you slid down to the ground in a flood of tears. This agony, this ache inside your chest, was tearing you apart. The betrayal and deep regret and utter worthlessness overwhelmed you. You couldn't breathe, your chest heaved, and you struggled not to cry out from the pain that gripped your broken heart like a vice.

On the other side of the door, Jey’s features crumpled in pain as he listened to the anguish of the woman he loved; your sniffles, your sobs, each one ripping out a different piece of his heart. Pressing his forehead against the door, his fingers splayed out against the wooden surface, as though trying to reach out to you, trying to take away your pain. The pain he caused.

"I'm sorry, Y/N…I'm so sorry…"

END OF PART 3

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

More drama!😖😭

Thoughts? Is it finally over for our lovebirds? What’s going to happen in the season finale?

Please leave comments. I love comments!

Banner made by me. Jey gifs by @jeysuso​. Credit to owners of the other pics and gifs.

[aliengoose]

OK GENLOSS THOUGHTS LETS GO

as lots of people are saying I reckon this episode was supposed to give us an idea of how the show is “supposed” to run, and that’s partly why it was so silly and goofy. the eerier bits were all about things that aren’t “supposed” to happen.

in terms of plot it seems ranboo has been kidnapped by showfall and is being mind-controlled by us as sort of “players”. he comments once or twice about not knowing why he’s doing something or not being in full control, and occasionally appears to become more lucid (a few people have pointed out that the mask flashes at these points). basically ranboo is being used as a videogame character to entertain the masses by showfall media.

i cannot figure sneeg out, he’s clearly not being mind controlled seeing he “cheats” with the scissors and also doesn’t have any mask to suggest he’s under control, plus we don’t get to control him at all. I’m thinking perhaps he was an earlier main character test that made showfall realise they need more control over them.

Somethings up with charlie and idk what. if showfall is going “hey lets get these internet personalities to be our unwilling characters in this game” it would make sense for why he’s got the slime motifs and all that. BUT how can they be sure he’s doing what they want him to? perhaps he is affected by slime the same way sneeg was? maybe showfall figured out a way to use slime to control him? much to think about.

there’s also the possibility that it’s just not that deep but i do think it’s supposed to give the impression that the entire thing is happening in our world and isn’t scripted or anything. that’s why i love the choice to act it all out live, it doesn’t just allow for more interaction, it is literally a live broadcast of an game featuring fun “characters”. I really hope there’s some deeper meaning in that, about the treatment of people as entertainment without thought for their own health and wellbeing, and the way entertainers often have to play a caricature of themselves to appease their audience.

i know a lot of people have been talking about a face reveal in genloss and given the mask is linked to controlling ranboo and they literally cannot take it off right now i see it going one of 3 ways;

1. he takes the mask off and we get a face reveal (doubt)

2. he takes the mask off BUT they’re wearing another mask underneath. seems like something they’d do

3. he doesn’t get the mask off. we lost. ranboo is stuck under the control of showfall media with only short periods of lucidity. ranboo said at one point that we should be left with a feeling of dread. maybe there’s no escape. what’s more terrifying than doing everything right and still being doomed?

ok that’s all i can think of for now sorry it’s a long post but idk how to add a read more on mobile ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. i’ll edit this if i think of anything else i guess?

edit: this is blowing up i have genloss art in my pinned and plans to make more 👀

edit 2: @pinkpuffballdude ‘s tags reminded me!!! i had completely forgotten to talk about sneeg being awake and staring with dead eyes through the whole sleep part. THAT was creepy. It made me think of NPCs to be honest, the way he wasn’t able to do anything but being forced to witness everything happening, not being able to sleep without a bed. I don’t know how to explain it right now and i’ll come back here if i figure it out. BUT he also talks about refusing to do the cooking show which is the main thing that got me thinking he was a past mc who’s been locked away. also aligns with his “the taken” name in The Game.

[2af-afterdark]

If We Cannot Keep

Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Non-Con/Rape Category: F/M Fandom: Shall We Date?: Obey Me! Relationships: MC/Satan+Asmodeus+Beelzebub+Belphegor Characters: Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor, Main Character Additional Tags: afab!mc (they/them), noncon/rape, breeding, pregnancy, somnophilia, yandere Summary: The brothers refuse to give up the person they love the most. They will do whatever it takes to keep ahold of them. A/N: The ask leads to this post. Since it was not my original idea, I am also posting 🍋 anon's consent to make this a fic. Sorry, but adding all the brothers is really hard, so only some are getting explicit moments. Word Count: 2161

The sun poured through the slits in their blinds and they woke up to that blinding light feeling like they hadn't gotten a minute of rest. It had been like that the last month or so, but recently they'd also started developing an ache in their hips and a throbbing in their head to go with it.

The mornings were pure torture as they went about the house searching for clothing in their stupor. Perhaps it was due to their still exhausted state or maybe it was the way the light played against the walls as it worked its way into their flat, but they swore they saw something darting back and forth in the corner of their eye. Though, when they turned their head nothing was there.

They were probably just anxious for today.

When was the last time they'd seen their partner in person? At least a few days. Between finals and papers and other miscellaneous bullshit, they hadn't had time for personal matters. Today was different. Today was all about showing their partner a good time.

As they finished putting themselves together and started to head out the door, their phone started to ring. They fished it out, noting that it was an interdimensional call from Beel and chuckling quietly to themselves before picking it up.

"Hello?"

"He-"

"Darling!" Asmo cut in and nearly blew out their eardrum.

"Hey, Asmo. What's up?"

"Well, Beel said he was calling you and I didn't want to be left out, especially because you're feeling so good right now."

"Is it that obvious?" They didn't know their emotions reached that far across dimensions when it came to the demons they shared a pact with.

"Why are you so happy?" Beel asked and they could hear him chewing something on the other end.

"Oh, well…" Their face felt like it was burning up. "I have a date today."

The other end went silent for what seemed like an entire minute before Asmo finally chirped up, "Look at you~ Getting lucky so soon after turning someone else down."

"Asmo…" Beel warned faintly over the receiver.

"Are you still upset about that?" They didn't mean to hurt their precious demons, but they also couldn't lie and say they felt that way about them.

"Of course not~" He whined as if insulted. "I'm just happy that you're happy."

"Thanks. I'm actually heading out now, so I have to go. Talk to you both later?"

"Always, Darling."

"See you later," Beel said just before ending the call.

They walked out of their house, tumbler of coffee in hand to fight off the tiredness that wouldn't leave their bones. By the time they showed up at the meeting spot, the entire container was long gone.

They planned the entire day together: movie, the park, dinner at a nice place. It was going to be wonderful.

Unfortunately, they could barely stay awake through the movie and dozed off against their partner's shoulder at the park. It was hard to stay awake and focused for some reason.

By the end of the day, they sat down with their partner at the restaurant. They reached across the table to hold their hands. They ordered dinner, selecting something they usually wouldn't glance twice at. Their partner made a joke about pickles and ice cream, and they grimaced. It wasn't funny.

Actually, now that they were together… their partner was worried. They'd been different lately. It was probably stress or something, but they were clearly out of it. They loved going on dates, but maybe it was better in the meantime to focus on themselves. They needed to ensure they were taking care of themselves.

As much as they didn't want to do that, they agreed. Maybe a small break was best for them. Although, when they got home home they couldn't help but flop into their bed and cry themselves to sleep.

It was the dead of night. Their eyes fluttered open slowly, groggily blinking as their consciousness drifted just out of reach. Everything felt stiff; their joints, head, arms, legs. It was like their muscles refused to work. Even so, it felt like their body was on fire as heat pooled in their stomach and spread outward.

The more they started to awaken, the more things they slowly started to notice were out of place than just their muscles. There were strange noises in the darkness; growling, muttering, creaking, and wet slapping. 

Dancing in the blurry haze of their opening eyes were strange shapes that slowly came more into view as their mind began to wake up. The shapes blended together against the black backdrop of their room, but they could clearly make out that one of them – broader than the others – was moving above them.

"Hungh?" They groaned. "Wha-?"

"Oh no," someone muttered at the edge of their consciousness. "They're waking up. Put them back under."

"I'm trying." Someone else muttered and their head began to pound and ache.

"They got tighter…"

"Are you bragging?"

They knew those voices and the shape of those shadows; Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, and Belphegor. Their head was lying in Belphegor's lap as he rested his hands on either side of it. Satan and Asmodeus were on either side of them. Beelzebub was more difficult to see but they swore he was in front of them.

"What are… you doing here?" They didn't remember summoning them.

"Shit," Belphegor swore and their head pounded again. "Go back to sleep."

Why couldn't they understand what was happening? Everything took so much effort and felt so difficult. It was like their entire body was made of stone.

All they knew was that something felt off.

They let their eyes wander downward toward where it felt warm. Beelzebub was anchored between their legs, large hands pressing against the back of their knees as he forced them against their chest, lips shimmering in the darkness as they dripped with an unknown liquid, and hips snapping forward with a grunt.

The scene didn't make sense at first, but when it finally clicked all the drowsiness washed away instantly. Their body still felt heavy, but their mind finally understood the horror of what was happening.

"Oh dear, you caught us," Asmodeus sighed. "And it was all going so well, too."

They were struck with terror. Even as a sickening feeling joined that heat building up inside of them, they couldn't look away. "Wh-what are you-?"

"So sorry, Darling. You usually sleep through this." 

"Belphie!" Satan snapped.

The youngest of them rolled his eyes. "You try to keep them under when it's Beel's turn. I'm amazed they didn't wake up sooner today.

"Put them back under." Satan accentuated each word like a threat.

"Working on it."

They tried to jerk away from his grip, finding it difficult. "No!"

"Oh don't be like that~" Asmodeus smiled a little too wide. "Since you're awake now, you should enjoy it as much as us."

Asmodeus leaned down over their face, biting their bottom lip between his teeth to draw blood. It was such a sweet taste against his lips that he had to lick it all up to make sure he savored every drop. Their panicked expression was so adorable that he couldn't help but smile down at them as blood rushed to his cheeks, turning his face red with desire. 

"Don't look away, Darling," he sang as his hand trailed over their stomach, rubbing small circles in the same spot pooling with heat before he drifted upward to grope at their breasts. "Don't you want to see how well your body's been trained? I doubt that human partner of yours could even satisfy you after the heaven you've experienced."

He said human like it was a dirty word; like they weren't also human. Like he wasn't enjoying every sickening squelch of their very human body being violated by his brother or the bouncing of their tits as he forced his firm cock into them over and over again and their comparably small body was forced to endure the constant slap of his hips against theirs.

A strained croak dryly snaked out of their throat as they tried to speak. Their tongue felt so very heavy as they opened their mouth to speak. "Sto-"

Before the word was fully out, someone clamped a hand over their mouth.

Satan's brilliant green eyes peered down at them with a smirk, lidded and pressed tight. "I wouldn't try that if I were you." He slipped two fingers past their lips to grasp onto their tongue. "After all, we want to hear you scream more for us, so removing this would be unfortunate."

Their teeth scraped against Satan's fingers as the taste of salt and copper flooded their mouth. His fingers reached further back into their throat, curling downward and making them feel like they were going to choke (or maybe puke). All they knew for certain was how all of their muscles tensed up in terror, making the cock inside of them feel so much bigger than it already was.

Between Satan working at their mouth, Asmo's hands squeezing their chest, Belphegor messing with their head, and Beelzebub dragging his cock along their tight walls in his mission to hit every sensitive spot he could, they couldn't hold out any longer. Their legs began to tremble and shake, spasming in Beelzebub's strong grip as their eyes rolled back in their head and they were forced to cum on the cock that wouldn't stop churning up their insides at a brutal pace.

Tears streamed down their face, burning against their cheeks as they silently pleaded for this to be over. Instead, it got worse. Beelzebub's hips bucked against them more quickly, disregarding the clear bruises he was starting to leave in their skin. 

"Pu-h." Please. They tried to beg one last time for mercy, for the brothers to stop before they betrayed their precious human's trust and love anymore than they already had, but their words were lost between their grotesque sobbing and around Satan's fingers.

It wasn't until they felt Beelzebub's strokes start to grow fast and shallow before stopping that the horror truly sunk in, though. When the sensation of him filling them up with hot liquid finally hit them, they couldn't help but weep. 

A hand gently reached up to brush away their tears. "Shhhh. None of that now," Asmodeus coo'd. "If you exhaust yourself by crying, how do you ever expect to make it through the night?"

Their eyes widened in horror at the implication; a horror that became all too real as Beelzebub withdrew his fat cock from their abused hole and they felt a new one align against their entrance.

"We promise," Belphegor said, "whoever the father of your baby is, we'll all love it as much as we do you. Isn't that better than whatever some random human could give you?"

Baby?

"They won't have a choice," Satan added. "After all, I doubt their partner will tolerate finding out they cheated."

This wasn't cheating.

"What a pathetic waste of existence," Asmodeus spoke as he messaged their chest with a firm grip. "But don't worry, Darling ~ We would never treat you like that. We'll always love you, just the same as your body will always love and need us."

This wasn't love.

Whoever was nestled between their legs now (they dared not look) finally pushed forward, parting their slick, messy folds as the head of his cock sank inside of them and pushed against all the cum already flooding their cunt.

They screamed and cried around Satan's fingers as a new person began to rhythmically buck his hips forward.

Even with all the fear running through them, they couldn't help but notice how heavy their eyelids were starting to feel. Belphegor rubbed his index and middle fingers on either side of their temples in much the way one would soothe a headache and it felt relaxing despite how much adrenaline was pumping through their veins.

"You need to relax or else you'll stress out the baby." His eyes closed and theirs soon followed. "You must be so tired after today, so let us take care of everything while you rest."

Sleep sounded so good right now.

"I promise that nothing but good dreams like this one await."

They couldn't even think a terrible thought about the brothers who had betrayed their trust one final time before sleep overtook them and they passed out. They certainly couldn't even feel how they had cum around the new cock violating them as Belphegor's magical sleep settled into their every nerve.

The sun poured through the slits in their blinds and they woke up to that blinding light feeling like they hadn't gotten a minute of rest. It had been like that the last month or so, but recently they'd also started developing an ache in their hips and a throbbing in their head to go with it.

[lemonhemlock]

Hi! First, let me say that I have greatly enjoyed reading your posts in the divisions of houses during the dance tag. I actually had a question for you regarding Jeyne Arryn. I came to the conclusion that the main reason she decided to support Rhaenyra was because of she wanted to name a distant cousin her heir over her cousin Arnold and his line. However, considering that Arnold has attempted three coups against her, couldn't Jeyne ask the iron throne to attaint him for breaking the king's peace, stripping him and his descendants of any claims to the Vale? Historically, irl coups have never been bloodless so I would think Arnold broke the King's peace. I realize that could mean Arnold might have to be executed or join the Night's Watch. I know he goes insane at some point so I would ask if it would be possible that his life could be spared, even if he couldn't take the black. Irrc, irl medieval society insane people weren't executed (Henry VIII actually had to change the law so he could execute Jane Rochford after she had a mental break) but I don't know if that applies in ASOIAF or not. If you're not the right person to ask this question, I apologize but you seem very knowledgeable.

Hello there! Thank you for dropping by, yes, indeed, that would have made sense for Lady Jeyne's character, to side with the faction who would offer her security in regards to her position as Lady of the Vale.

But I don't think either the greens or the blacks would have had any issue with this: Lady Jeyne is the rightful ruler of the Vale by Andal Law. She is her father's only living child. And her cousin's attempted coups disqualified him from inheriting her seat.

So, it follows that Jeyne should have factored in other reasons when it comes to her alliances. Daemon Targaryen, the man who, at worst, killed Rhea Royce, and, at the very least, tried to poach away the inheritance of House Royce, is going to be the king consort if Rhaenyra wins. Rhea's relative, Lord Yorbert Royce, was Lord Protector of the Vale and regent while Lady Jeyne was a minor, somehow ensuring she would inherit her rightful seat. This is how Lady Jeyne repays her close allies? By siding with Daemon?

I'm not saying there is not a way to believably explain why Lady Jeyne would still side with Rhaenyra/Daemon. We know Arnold Arryn squired at Runestone and that House Royce supported his claim against Joffrey Arryn's, despite Lady Jeyne's will. So, perhaps everything was not daises and roses between Lady Jeyne and House Royce and she could have organically reached a point where she no longer saw the Royces as her true allies, despite her having previously banished Daemon from the Vale when he showed up to claim Runestone.

But Fire & Blood leaves out those details and HotD does absolutely nothing to build on Vale politics beyond showing Lady Jeyne being irritated with Rhaenyra (but not irritated enough to refuse her alliance, of course). Why? Because the writers cannot write political intrigue to save their lives. How could they have possibly come up with original machinations? They'd need to understand the politics of the universe they inhabit first and that has proven to be woefully out of their scope.

[ultfreakme]

I broke my silence. Nah, I need someone to talk to me about JonJay, since they are still underrated by the fandom. Like, they started being hated out of nowhere. That nonsense about Damian hating Jay, about what if Jon showed Jay Damian, he would immediately reject it. Demi is literally a fan of Jay and his blog, he literally contributed to Jay and Jon getting together at the 2022 Pride, Jay calls Damian by name and basically sees him without a mask in his real guise, which suggests that he trusts him just enough to show his real personality. He praises him, well, to many of his friends and even relatives (Grayson). This is complete nonsense that the fandom made up is killing me. People also say that Jay is not registered. What? Like, yes, I would also like to know more about him, but this does not mean that he does not have a personality. The entire plot of the comic revolves around him and his story, how in this case can he not have his own character and personality?( like, we literally see that he is a very brave and smart young man who knows how to make difficult decisions. He is also quite daring, he won’t go into his pocket for words, he can express everything he thinks. Jay is very smart and cunning, he knows how to achieve his own and will stand by his interests to the last.) It really scares me how people either don’t want to understand his character. I also saw someone talking about how Jon might cheat on Jay and Nya because the author of her comic released a post about the SuperDreamer (that's what the ship is called). What? In terms of, this bro refused to kiss his boyfriend on the another universe simply because it's not his Jay and people seriously believe that Jon will cheat with another person when he's literally loyal to only one and we're literally shown that, well, he's incapable of cheating on Jay because so much loves him. This is so stupid. Yes, after all, in one of the comics Jon calls a day with Jay “Mental Health Day.” I don’t understand what’s wrong with people. And it seems to me that no matter what happens, Jay will always remain Jon’s main and important love interest. My beloved boys deserve more attention and love from the fandom. I hope that someday they will grow to realize that they are perfect for each other and only at this moment will I find peace

Anon, Anon you are so correct and I love you and I have been sitting with this frustration since 2021 and I am tired.

I know exactly why people don't give Jay a chance:

Xenophobia

Racism

Biases against actual queer people

It gets in the way of the fanon ship; Damian x Jon

A good 99% of the hate I see comes from Damian and Jon shippers who were, for some reason under the impression that Jon being bisexual means he will date Damian....who is not only 3 years younger than him but also just barely out of middle school while Jon is in college.

Most people are still also attached to Super Sons comics, and have yet to come to terms with the fact that Jon is aged up, he is not getting aged down, and Super Sons as it once was is not coming back. So they don't bother reading SOKE or AOSJK or any Jon appearance that occurs where it's JUST Jon (because if you've noticed, the jon kent tag is all damian because they see Jon as Damian's accessory and love interest and not an independent character).

Super Sons mischaracterized both Damian and Jon egregiously while being racist and sexist towards Talia (one very easy example; Damian hates going to school because he's far surpassed that academic level & really only needs school for socialization. Why would Damian who was older than Jon before, willingly go to a grade 3 times below his own where Jon lives, where he needs to get to by helicopter??). Reading that alone means people don't understand Jon, Damian, or Talia(or anyone really).

So when they learn that Damian actually LIKES Jay, that he liked Jay first and enough to introduce him to Dick and potentially a bunch of other batfam characters, they just can't stand it. How dare Damian get in the way of fans shipping him with his best friend(who is 17/18)??? Wdym Damian is happily dating a girl named Nika aka Flatline! Now let's be sexist to the 14 year old girl and call her evil manipulative bitch!!!

Why on Earth would Jon like Jay??? He's not Damian!

And that's another thing; Jay is not Damian and that is all these haters need to destroy Jay and dismiss him. This isn't about character arcs, or canon, or storytelling. It's about being mad that fanon isn't real.

I used to try to get them to at least give SOKE a chance. I wanted to be polite and have a proper discussion but things got overtly racist. I've had people tell me that Jay is seducing Jon, he is evil, he is a criminal who has no morals, he isn't "Asian enough". Me and a bunch of twitter mutuals experienced actual racism, towards ourselves, when talking to these people. I had to delete my account because it was affecting my mental health and I couldn't take it. We also experienced lots of biphobic and homophobic takes (especially about the pink hair which was very fun for a bisexual Asian with pink hair at the time). About how Jay is some "kpop knock off" or "creep" because he and Jon shared a fully consensual kiss. Like yes Karen explain to me how the immigrant Asian kid who just wants to save his country from a colonizer is evil because he kissed a white boy. Do tell me about how he's "mind controlling" Jon to love him. We didn't even have those words thrown around when Saturn Girl legit mind-controlled Jon. But of course! It's because she's white and no one actually read that Legion run. It can pass for heterosexual so who cares!

And the cheating thing grinds my gears it actually makes me want to go scream.

SURE! Let's have the bisexual character cheat! You know let's just forget about how bi people are already stereotyped as sluts and cheaters. Or that Jon's Superman and he straight up said "I'm not going to cheat on Jay."

I think Nicole Maines isn't going to touch JayJon, her run with Dreamer ends around the same time as or before Pride Month and we are getting a pride month jayjon story(unconfirmed yet officially but a cover artist is hinting that's the case). If she does though, if this story is signed-off and it happens through cheating I'm just gonna have to stop reading DC.

I think cheating plots are idiotic, especially with Superfam. Their whole thing is "truth justice better tomorrow." They strive to do good and be kind and honest. Wtf am I taking away if you so severely hurt a person you claim to love? I think they are a lazy and a cheap way to generate bad drama.

If you want drama and for SuperDreamer to happen, at least make JayJon have a proper break up. Making Jon cheat would assassinate his character and Dreamer's because NIA KNOWS JAY. In the story Nia's appearing, she's being sent in to attack Jay's country. It's not even a character flaw atp it's just you two are being hypocritical and choosing to hurt a friend who's done nothing but be kind(lest we forget, Jay was cleaning up Jon's reputation and lost his secret identity FOR JON. He's the one who stayed calm while Jon was about to fight when Nia first showed up).

If Nia is chill with Superman cheating with her on Jay and is simultaneously attacking his country(though it is under Waller's pressure), I will simply leave. What's the point? It's not like POC characters in Superfam get enough respect anyways, especially the Asian ones (I see you Kong Kenan, I SEE YOU). The Steels are fortunately getting more time but that happened after decades and decades (and I've still got no news on Nat and Traci 13 DC GET IT TOGETHER, Nat still doesn't get enough focus imo). I sound really mean towards Dreamer rn but I actually really enjoy the Jon and Nia friendship. I just fucking hate cheaters though, those kind of plots are always exhausting and ill-thought out and the characters become garbage. Because like, you're a superhero, a symbol of goodness and striving to do better. Cheating is actively taking a decision to hurt a person in a deeply personal way. Why would I believe a single thing you say about "truth" when you can't even give that to someone close to you?

I think we should just let the haters stew on their nonsense and find people who create a positive fandom space. My block list for blogs and tags is a mile long. If they can't see how well-written and balanced Jon and Jay are for each other, that's a loss for them and they may....continue to seethe or whatever it is they do.

If you aren't on the supertruth discord server yet or know of it, I'd highly recommend joining!! It's very fun

This was a mess of a response and I let my emotions get too far away from me I am so sorry. I really understand you Anon <3<3 Hugs and comfort from me!!

[runninguplenorahills]

So sorry for putting this in the byler tag but I need to take you with me on my delulu-voyage about Dr. Owens!

The show is kinda playing a game of good cop/bad cop with Brenner and Owens. They’re putting them into contrast by showing Brenner to be more reckless in what he does while Owens is shown to be more understanding and sympathetic. The guy who wants to help. The good cop. But at the end of the day the good cop is never actually on your side either.

Owens has been working with Brenner on NINA. He’s deeply involved in the making of that project! Sure, him and Brenner have different opinions on what is the right way to use NINA and execute their plan but it’s still their plan. Brenner did not force Owens to participate. They were working together.

And the thing is…. Owens is the one who showed up to starcourt mall after El lost her powers. Owens is the one who relocated the Byers and El to Lenora. And doesn’t that also mean that Owens is the one who told Brenner about the fact that El lost her powers in the first place? Because how else would Brenner have known?

And you don’t just build NINA in one night! NINA has been in the works for months which means Owens probably told Brenner immediately after he found out himself! And if Owens thought it’s of importance that Brenner knows that El lost her powers….. well, that means:

He knew that El didn’t simply lose her powers. It was more significant than that which is why he told Brenner (‘Cause Brenner knew that her powers were stolen and I imagine that’s why Owens told him in the first place).

He knew why Brenner needed El’s powers in the first place.

Owens knew Brenner isn’t dead (obviously)

Owens kinda kick started the NINA project.

And well…. Doesn’t that also mean Owens knew about Henry first hand?!

Owens: “What I understand is that something’s going on in that town that no one fully comprehends! And what I also understand is that military strength is not the answer!” (“You cant just shoot this with guns”)

Sullivan: “It’s men of science. Men like you who created this problem in the first place!”

Mike: “So what? Where just supposed to trust that you’re the good guys? Whoever you are?”

Agents: “We’re friends of Owens.”

Mike: “You don’t trust Owens?”

Will: “No no, I mean, I don’t know. He’s been good to us and good to El… but he wasn’t able to protect me. That was you guys who saved me! That was you guys.”

And that’s the thing. If Owens knew about Brenner being alive and deliberately kept that information to himself (which he did), and if Owens knew about Henry and everything that happened (which seems to be the case too)……. Well….. doesn’t that make Owens’ inability to help and protect Will in s2 a deliberate choice? Doesn’t that mean he deliberately refused the idea that Will’s true sight aren’t just ptsd flashbacks? He knew what was going on but pretended like he didn’t? Like he’s the good guy who’s trying to help despite “not knowing what’s going on”?

And you wanna know something else?

Right after the scene in s2, ep.6 in which Joyce questions why she should trust Owens and yells at the doctors: “CAN ANYONE TELL ME WHAT’S WRONG WITH MY BOY?!” we don’t get an answer, but you know what we do get? The recording Nancy and Jonathan made of Owens saying:

“You see why I have to stop the truth from spreading? […].By whatever means necessary.”

Immediately after Joyce’s question. Immediately!

I personally think Owens knew what’s wrong with Will and he knows way more than he’s letting on. He’s the good cop. He’s good to our main characters but he isn’t actually on their side. He cannot protect them because he’s got a reason not to.

[cain-e-brookman]

🐎OC Smash or Pass Tag 🎯

thanks for the tag @topazadine! despite being a great dude, i did have to pass on Uileac. he's not missing out on me, though, because he's got a great husband!

alright, he lost the popularity poll the last time so you'll all have to hear about him now. he's here, he's queer, he is the drama

Hesperos vi Galanis

picrew source

Age: (Mage ages are weird. probably around 60-ish chronologically, but basically just barely considered an adult by Mage Standards. and i mean barely. human equivalent would be 17-20.)

Sexuality: bisexual

Height: 6'1" (~185 cm)

Race: Sky Mage

Overview: Hesperos was born in the mountainous north of his homeland of Pelyra. as part of the Galanis clan, his magic is claimed by Khrou, Goddess of Lightning, though all Sky Mages can call upon the Sky God or any of his children (mostly.) He was exiled from his clan at a young age for a reason he refuses to speak about, cast off of a Pelyran boat on the open sea. But chance, a trade lord of Vizia came across his boat on a return ship from Crescaeya, saving young Hesperos from certain death, and eventually taking him in as his ward. Hesperos has grown alongside a culture much different than his own, the carefree worship of Water Mages clashing with the strict discipline he lives under in his attachment to his patron. This has caused him to pull back into himself where his faith is concerned for most of his young life, rarely discussing his own heritage. As he grew into adulthood, though, he picked up the mantel of his name, donned his clan's colors, and claimed that even if his people shunned him, he was still a servant of his Goddess, and wouldn't be made to feel ashamed of his faith.

Above all, Hesperos is a collection of warring paradoxes. He loves flashiness and bright colors, but hates being the center of attention. He loves theater and preforming, but has terrible stage fright. His feelings towards his homeland and his people is rife with mixed feelings and heartache, but he's proud of his name.

Why you should smash: Despite being charming and flirty, he is a loyal friend and lover who never strays. When he falls, he falls hard and would do anything for the person he's with. He's not quick to anger, speaks softly, but isn't shrinking or shy. Would show you off to every person and make you feel like you're the only one in the world to him. And he's also as generous in other places wink wink. He's also a very powerful Mage, as his Goddess demands complete devotion. All in his clan are trained until they can house the complete power of their patron, and take on some of her physical characteristics, namely bright blue eyes and white hair

Why you should pass: Main red flag? He's a lush. Secondary red flag? About every 3rd thing he says is a lie, and every 4th is a joke. He hides from himself and everyone else, is never not preforming, even when he's the only one in the room. And he will never, ever, truly trust you.

So what do you say?

tagginggggggg @eternalwritingstudent @spideronthesun @illarian-rambling!!

[gothyanki]

@ardentkurashk tagged me in this meme forever ago (thank you!! <3) Now it is time. Lots of yelling about Vin'ath inbound.

Name: Vin'ath

Age: 31

Race: Githyanki

Class: Paladin (Oath of Vengeance).

Alignment: Trying their hardest to be a Lawful Good True Storybook Knight while also following vengeance oath tenets to the letter. This… does not always work out well.

Deity: Having been raised in a cult, Vin is deeply and understandably suspicious of all gods. They’ve dedicated their life to their oath instead, which is totally different.

Favourite spells: Shield of Faith for practicality; Colour Spray for aesthetics. They also love smiting. Divine Smite is their fave, although they couldn’t tell you why it’s the most satisfying.

Armour (Act 1): Scale Mail of Vengeance.

Armour (Act 2): Adamantine Splint Armour.

Armour (Act 3): Still Adamantine Splint Armour! High paladin fashion.

Favourite dye: Baby blue and gold. They flat-out refused to dye their gear at all until they got to Rivington, where they grudgingly agreed to try it out. The description points to a much more militaristic meaning, but to Vin those colours have come to symbolise the sun and sky over the world they love.

(I have a LOT of feelings about the default vengeance paladin colour scheme in light of “I see only blood-red and death-black”. Vin hasn’t drifted as far from their upbringing as they’d like to think.)

Weapon (Act 1): Monster Slayer Glaive (+ anything else they could grab that looked useful).

Weapon (Act 2): Soulbreaker Greatsword.

Weapon (Act 3): Silver Sword of the Astral Plane. Sorry, Lae'zel - it's just too perfect for a githyanki paladin. (In my headcanon, Lae does end up getting it after some token face-saving resistance from Vin. They’re not comfortable with the idea of wielding a silver sword and don't really want to give up the Soulbreaker - they've still got a lot of complicated feelings about the way they won it and they feel responsible for all those whispering souls.)

Buffs: Ooh, it’s been a while - I’d have to load up the game to see what they’ve got on. Githborn Psionic Weapon? Wielding the Soulbreaker Greatsword feels so right to them (ditto for Voss' silver sword, in the very brief space of time they had it); they’ve thoroughly compartmentalised that feeling so they don’t have to think about Why.

Main love interest: Karlach. It was a bit of a rough road to get there (the touch issue might have been the least of their problems), but now they’re an unstoppable team. To hell first, then onward to the stars!

Favourite NPC(s): Vin’s got a huge soft spot for the tiefling kids, especially Mol. (They’re very protective of children in general, for reasons they won’t admit have anything to do with their own upbringing.) Meeting Varrl and Varsh Ko’kuu gave them some hope in a difficult time, even though the circumstances were painful. They also greatly admire Dame Aylin and Isobel… and kind of see them as #relationshipgoals.

…and then there’s Kith'rak Voss. Yeah, that’s a complicated one.

Favourite enemy: Kith'rak Therezzyn and Inquisitor W'wargasm W'wargaz. There was a LOT of emotional fallout after the adrenaline crash, but for a while there they were riding the high of having faced down two terrifying childhood authority figures and lived (not to mention the staring contest with Vlaakith herself…)

Favourite battle: Gortash. That one was very personal - vengeance paladin mode on full display. (The conversation after it was… significantly harder for them to deal with.) Rescuing Halsin from Orin & co. was a close second - they were just so relieved they’d got there in time.

Favourite dialogue: Is “every single dialogue involving Karlach” cheating? Not just the overtly flirty/romantic ones - Vin would happily listen to her read the Faerûnian phonebook.

Aside from that, they got so much vicarious joy out of hearing Lae'zel reject Vlaakith - they don’t tend to show much emotion, but they may have done a little fist pump at “she has sinned against me!” Also, the conversation where Wyll opened up about the circumstances of his exile - Vin felt very honoured that he trusted them enough to let them see beyond the Blade of Frontiers persona, and it led them to drop their Perfect Paladin walls a little in return.

Decision about the Absolute: Red laser destroy destroy destroy + the Crown returns to Mystra. Unlike Lykos, Vin'ath isn’t tentacle-curious.

I tag anyone who hasn’t already done this (see: forever ago) and wants to!

[lokiinmediasideblog]

1 + 12 :D

The Loki fandom has more schisms than the Catholic church at this point. So I'll give multiple answers for the main schisms (pre-Loki series and including it).

character everyone gets wrong. If it's pre-Loki series and such, I think it's both Thor and Loki. And there's many variations of it. I think any characterization that flattens one into just good and the other as bad misunderstands these morally gray characters. With Loki, he's portrayed as a waifish and bookish boring character that can't fight/kill/or lie which takes the fun out of it and makes him seem rather pathetic and not!Loki complimented with either a sunshine himbo savior Thor or brutish evil Thor. With Thor, he's the precious sunshine cinnamon-roll with a purity of heart contending with Christ with either the waifish Loki, comedically murderously evil Loki, or just plain cruel Loki which makes Thor seem dumb and ridiculously gullible. The former is more popular in Tumblr in general, but casuals interpret it as the latter usually. And the comics pre-reincarnation have a lot of the plain cruel Loki with ridiculously gullible and Gary-Stu-ish Thor.

If we're including the Loki series, I'd say Mobius. I can't recognize him in most fanfics (and as such I don't read much Lokius) because most refuse to engage with the darker cannon aspects of his characterization and try to turn Lokius into Ineffable Husbands 2.0 which have nothing in common apart from some superficial level of edgy gothy man + white-haired desk job dude. This guy had access to every instance of Loki's life. Isn't that creepy? And he's responsible for the capture and pruning of many variants. There should be more fic where he's conflicted about his actions. Granted, I have a fanfic where he's terrible (dark!Mobius) and I specify it on the tags. I think the only time it's not annoying to mischaracterize characters is if the author is aware and warns of it in the tags because they're in a kick.

2. the unpopular character that you actually like and why more people should like them. I don't like telling people to like characters. I'll defend them if they get things wrong about them, but it just feels guilt-trippy to me. I know I get annoyed when people get guilt trippy for not caring about the W3 or Sif as much as I care for Loki (who has way more screentime and lines). Pre-Loki series, I think I like Heimdall more than the average Loki fan. I like that he also commits treason against Odin, not just Loki. I think the implications of the All-Sight make him interesting, though he doesn't have that much screentime. I like to portray him as conflicted over his responsibilities, and if I need some Gatekeeper to be an asshole to Loki, I make one up that preceded Heimdall and is responsible for Loki's overall dislike of Gatekeepers and why he learned to hide from the All-sight.

I understand why it happens because seeing everything is rather invasive and we live in a society with increased surveillance every fucking year. But I wish to avoid the "Black character is racist to fantasy race" trope. You can justify Loki learning to hide without pulling that trope, you know? Make up a gatekeeper before Heimdall (I'm not convinced he knew Loki was Jotun and that'd mean he was hired after Loki was adopted). You can make a story. I have plenty of HCs about Loki's distrust of Gatekeepers and that Heimdall was hired after a Noodle incident involving Loki that caused the previous Gatekeeper to quit. It's more interesting than just pure fantasy racism from the start.

If we're including the Loki series:

The character I think was unfairly hated was Sylvie. I say this for the level of vitriol the poor actress received. It's fine not to like Sylvie, but a lot of those posts claiming SdM and Sylvie are single-handedly responsile for "bad rep" when SdM has no influence on the script and it's a DISNEY show (notorious for executive meddling) is unfair and pointing fingers at the wrong direction. FOR THE MCU DISNEY+ SERIES THEY DIDN'T EVEN HAVE SHOWRUNNERS! THIS IS A VERY BAD PRACTICE AND INDICATIVE THEY'RE JUST CHURNING SHIT OUT!

I'm also of the opinion that the comics have more harmful tropes than the show's "self-cest" (specifically talking about Loki stealing Sif's body and Amora and Lorelei's noncon powers M.O.) but I often see the same people praising one and not the other because they think the comic book designs are more stylish. If the shoe doesn't fit, I'm not talking about you. BTW. Just some people I've seen.

[yandere-daze]

have you ever think about people who might be defending themselves not to reblog because they have a right to decide or something? this has been bugging my mind... no offense to anyone though, sorry, and love your works !

Rant incoming, just as a warning lol

But yes, obviously people have the right to decide if they want artists and writers to keep being motivated to post works on here for free or not.

As a writer myself, I just don´t understand the rationale behind it. There is literally zero reason not to reblog. It takes just as long as leaving a like and if you have zero patience to type out the tags then you don´t even have to necessarily to do that ( even if I will literally love you if you do!)

Likes do and mean nothing. They´re the equivalent of being left on reading after writing a long and heartfelt message.

Reblogs help our words getting spread around and actually show us that people care about our posts and want us to keep doing them.

But why have some people decided that they just refuse to do the thing the entire website is built around that would actually help their favorite blogs to stay motivated?

They have the choice not to reblog anything but it´s a selfish one and they better not complain when they get blocked or their favorite creators stop posting.

Just think about it: People ( me included) take hours out of their busy lives to write something and then post it because they want people to read and enjoy their works.

Writing sometimes takes hours of time and effort and it´s not always easy. If we were just going to do it for ourselves there would be no need to type out all of it out because the main fun part of the creative process to me is just daydreaming about an idea I had.

Actually putting it into words to tell a compelling story is tough and takes lots of patience. But we do it anyway because we want to share our ideas with other people, we want to talk about them with others. We want to ramble and fantasize about different scenarios. That´s fun.

It´s only natural to want at least some sort of feedback after spending so much time on something. And then it just hurts when people refuse to reblog your posts for ctually no reason at all, other than that they´re lazy or think a reblog is something super rare and special that only the "best" posts get to benefit from.

( Seriously, I don´t understand the sentiment of "Oh I really liked this but I didn´t like it enough to actually reblog and share it with other people. I don´t think the author should get any recognition. Oh but they better keep writing anyway and fast!")

At this point, rambling about ideas in a friend´s dms feels way more fulfilling. You guys have no idea of all the extensive rambles I went on with Korka that most likely will never see the light of day.

Why should I put in the effort and write it down to share with others when they can´t even bother to spend a single second to reblog it to show me that they appreciated what I wrote.

It makes no sense. Feedback and the back-and-forth with readers and fellow writers is what keeps us going. It´s super fun to get a conversation going about a cool idea you had! It´s not fun at all to see the notes on a post go up but no one saying anything. All that tells me is "huh, I guess people didn´t like this one. Guess I won´t post any of that anymore"

This complete lack of feedback from readers combined with work picking up is actually the main reason why I stopped writing for a few months. It didn´t feel rewarding anymore.

The recent yandere Alcryst post is actually one of the reasons why I started considering posting a bit more again. I was pleasantly surprised by all the nice tags and comments that one got and it made me smile every time I saw a new one pop up. I don´t care if it didn´t get as many notes as most twst works, I still felt way more satisfied and proud of it.

And that´s sort of where I come to the conclusion of this post:

Feedback matters, it really does! Likes tell us absolutely nothing, you could have downright hated it for all I know. But rest assured that I do screenshot every nice tag or comment I get, no matter if it´s actually a thought-out comprehensive analysis or just someone going "HJVJMVJM". I appreciate all of these so much. I save all of them in a little folder and look at them to cheer myself up when things might be tough.

So please, if you want your favorite blogs to continue then reblog! Maybe even leave a nice comment! Don´t forget that you get all of this stuff for free, creators are the ones keeping a community truly alive. You would probably be sad if your favorite writer or artist suddenly stopped posting due to a lack of support.

Please. Take that single second out of your life to hit the reblog button. It helps out more than you think and goes a long way to keep us motivated.

[princeescaluswords]

I can't get this post out of my head.

There's a reason that every time I see someone argue "well, the answer is to curate your own experiences!" I have to shake my head, because they are always, always, always missing the point.

There's a writer that I stumbled across over a year ago who tends to write what others might call dark fiction but I call exploitative fiction. In this writing, they make it a point to have Peter and Stiles (sometimes with other accomplices) murder Scott McCall and/or Alan Deaton. Sometimes there is humiliation or degradation involved. I've never seen any story where the victims are capable of defending themselves, let alone a serious threat. This writer has written this particular scenario dozens and dozens of times within a very narrow range of scenarios. It's obvious that the point of these stories isn't exploring dark themes. It's obviously revenge porn generated because a television show did not make the white male serial killer the main character.

I can say this because the victims of these stories are always Scott McCall and Alan Deaton, though recently they've expanded to include Melissa McCall, because of the way they treated the Hale Pack, by which they mean Peter Hale. It's revenge for denying Peter his legacy, rejecting his philosophy of killing your enemies, or refusing to submit. Though strangely, I've never encountered any stories where Peter and Stiles murder Derek for stealing the alpha power from Peter, they never humiliate the Sheriff or Parrish before slaughtering them for objecting to Peter's murder spree, and they never degrade Isaac before killing him for abandoning the Hale Pack.

Of course, these stories are never tagged appropriately; I didn't seek them out. I finally had to get in the habit of excluding that particular author specifically when searching for Teen Wolf fanfiction, because they come out with a story once a week. Their works are very popular; I won't include the name here, but I will share it in DMs if you want. The worst part is the subject isn't really unique; hundreds of other writers do the same thing of punishing characters for not bowing to white men. What's unique about this author is their volume and their attitude: they have a habit of putting a note a the end of their stories: "I write for stress relief, so I won't take criticism." Oh, is that why you write racist, pornographic violence?

The answer from many well-meaning people is "curate your own experiences!" In other words, let this writer and their followers have their own little corner of the internet and concentrate on avoiding them, which is possible, though it is easier said than done. But this admonition strikes me as galling in its tone deafness every time.

Why do I think this? Let's perform a thought experiment:

You walk into an auditorium to talk about something you love with 100 strangers you don't know and who don't know you. One person stands up and says "My life is filled with stress, so in order to cope, I repeatedly imagine black and brown people being murdered." You would probably try to move your chair a little further away from them, wouldn't you? But that's not the worst part. The worst part is that 92 other people start clapping for them. They appreciate having this content available. You become upset, because you find this behavior repulsive. (Everyone should find it repulsive). When you act in response, some positive soul turns to you and says "You could just have not come in here!" or "You could just leave!"

No one is stopping you from leaving and never coming back, but that wouldn't erase the fact that you know that there's a person out there who loves to imagine brown and black characters being killed in order to feel better about themselves, and there there are people who celebrate this person and reward them with their time and attention. All the "curating experience" won't erase the fact that this person is out there, still writing these stories, still finding 'relief' in writing a wrong because a television show decided that in this instance, a Latino teenager would be the good guy and the rich white male serial-killing con artist would be the bad guy.

I don't see how it could, and I'm going to say so.