#& I'm not putting it in the reblog itself because that's just not The Same

[whywhatswrongwithblue]

MINI-FEST ALERT!

As you may know already, Rose Tyler was born on the 27th of April, 1987. (Er. 1986? I'm not sure, and neither is Doctor Who itself.)

Can we, as chronic fans of a character who hasn't been on screen for almost fifteen years, let this day pass by without celebrating it??? Our girl turns 37 this year! (or 36, or 38, or maybe even 40+ because time runs differently in pete's world. sigh) ANYWAY what better way of celebrating this day than by giving her all our love via fan creations?

From the moment you see this terribly put-together post until the 28th of April, we will be holding a mini Rose Tyler Birthday Fest!

Same old rules...any medium goes! Fanart can be nsfw! For fic, there is absolutely no minimum word count, (seriously I'd love to see your headcanons, even), and there's no restriction on rating there, either. We will be accepting pre-canon and all three canon pairings from the show; nine, ten and tentoorose! The only* "rule", as such, is that you stick with the theme: Rose's birthday. And even that, you can interpret loosely! Tell us about multiple birthdays, or just one, or about the birthdays she spent without the Doctor and the ones she'll never have to spend without him again.

Tag us @whywhatswrongwithblue and we'll reblog your work!

Happy creating! :))

*Not really sure if this even needs saying anymore, as you can probably tell from this blog, but we're massive fans of tentoo and of rose's canonical ending and would super appreciate all entries being pro-tentoo (i.e, not killing/retconning him!) ❤️

#event #rose tyler #billie piper #doctor who #dw #tenth doctor #tenrose #ten x rose #ninth doctor #ninerose #nine x rose #tentoo #metacrisis doctor #tentoorose #tentoo x rose #timepetals #ficandchips

[getvalentined]

An open letter to @staff

I already submitted this to Support under "Feedback," but I'm sharing it here too as I don't expect it to get a response, and I feel like putting in out in public may be more effective than sending it off into the void.

The recent post on the Staff blog about changing tumblr to an algorithmic feed features a large amount of misinformation that I feel staff needs to address, openly and honestly, with information on where this data was sourced at the very least.

Claim 1: Algorithms help small creators.

This is false, as algorithms are designed to push content that gets engagement in order to get it more engagement, thereby assuring that the popular remain popular and the small remain small except in instances of extreme luck.

This can already be seen on the tumblr radar, which is a combination of staff picks (usually the same half-dozen fandoms or niche special interests like Lego photography) which already have a ton of engagement, or posts that are getting enough engagement to hit the radar organically. Tumblr has an algorithm that runs like every other socmed algorithm on the planet, and it will decimate the reach of small creators just like every other platform before it.

Claim 2: Only a small portion of users utilize the chronological feed.

You can find a poll by user @darkwood-sleddog here that at the time of writing this, sits at over 40 THOUSAND responses showing that over 96 percent of them use the chronological feed*. Claiming otherwise isn't just a misstatement, it's a lie. You are lying to your core userbase and expecting them to accept it as fact. It's not just unethical, it's insulting to people who have been supporting your platform for over a decade.

Claim 3: Tumblr is not easy to use.

This is also 100% false and you ABSOLUTELY know it. Tumblr is EXTREMELY easy to use, the issue is that the documentation, the explanations of features, and often even the stability of the service is subpar. All of this would be very easy for staff to fix, if they would invest in the creation of walkthroughs and clear explanations of how various site features work, as well as finally fixing the search function. Your inability to explain how your service works should not result in completely ignoring the needs and wants of your core long-term userbase. The fact that you're more willing to invest in the very systems that have made every other form of social media so horrifically toxic than in trying to make it easier for people to use the service AS IT WORKS NOW and fixing the parts that don't work as well speaks volumes toward what tumblr staff actually cares about.

You will not get a paycheck if your platform becomes defunct, and the thing that makes it special right now is that it is the ONLY large-scale socmed platform on THE ENTIRE INTERNET with a true chronological feed and no aggressive algorithmic content serving. The recent post from staff indicates that you are going to kill that, and are insisting that it's what we want. It is not. I'd hazard to guess that most of the dev team knows it isn't what we want, but I assume the money people don't care. The user base isn't relevant, just how much money they can bring in.

The CEO stated he wanted this to remain as sort of the last bastion of the Old Internet, and yet here we are, watching you declare you intend to burn it to the ground.

You can do so much better than this.

Response to the Update

Under the cut for readability, because everything said above still applies.

I already said this in a reblog on the post itself, but I'm adding it to this one for easy access: people read it that way because that's what you said.

Staff considers the main feed as it exists to be "outdated," to the point that you literally used that word to describe it, and the main goals expressed in this announcement is to figure out what makes "high-quality content" and serve that to users moving forward.

People read it that way because that is what you said.

*The final results of the poll, after 24 hours:

136,635 votes breaks down thusly:

An algorithm based feed where I get "the best of tumblr." @ 1.3% (roughly 1,776 votes)

Chronological feed that only features blogs I follow. @ 95.2% (roughly 130,077 votes)

This doesn't affect me personally. @ 3.5% (roughly 4,782 votes)

#tumblr dot com #tumblr staff

[autolenaphilia]

Edit: as hoshi9zoe pointed out, the original version of this post needlessly berated other transfems like Jennifer Coates, for which I do apologize, and I have toned it down in this edited version. The original version survives in reblogs.

Some months ago, I was searching through this transandrobro blog to see if they posted a callout of me, and i found this reblog, which I couldn't really write about for months, because what do I even write. I recently wayback machined it for posterity, and I guess this is my attempt to write a post about it.

It's saint-dyke himself, the coiner of transandrophobia, saying that the infamous (at least for me) article "I am a transwoman. I'm in the closet. I'm not coming out" is what made him coin the fucking word. It's literally bolded and underlined: "Reading this article is what made me coin “transandrophobia”.

The reason I put off writing this post is that reading that article makes me feel like i'm drinking poison. And it is poison, make no mistake, it's internalized transmisogyny brainworms dripping out of the writer's brain and onto the page.

It's a justification for why the author, known by pseudonym Jennifer Coates, doesn't want to transition, despite knowing she is a trans woman. And it's the exact kind of internalized transmisogyny that keeps trans women in repression and not transitioning. "I'm not going to pass, i'm forever going to be an ugly freak who will at best be humored by other women, the closet is uncomfortable but at least it's safe"

It's the same exact bullshit a lot of represssed trans women tell themselves because it's what society tells us about trans women, that we are freakish parodies of women, that we will never pass, and if we don't pass we have failed and are ugly freaks. It's all to scare us into staying in the closet and make others hate and fear us. Transmisogyny permeates our society, and the majority, maybe all transfems will absorb and internalize some of it.

Coates says that it all is just applicable to her, but again so many transfems believe this shit before transitioning and realizing it's a pack of lies. If this bullshit was in any way valid, a lot of trans women shouldn't transition, because before we actually transition many of us believe it word for word. And "it's only true for me" is how we justify it to ourselves. We tend to be way harsher on ourselves than others. This kind of self-hating transfem tends to think: "Other trans women are beautiful graceful goddesses, earthly manifestations of the divine feminine, always destined to be women, while I'm an ugly forever male ogre who just has a fetish."

It's all bullshit, it's poison, it's internalized transmisogyny.

And the rest of the article is bullshit too. It is not some insightful mediation on gender as some people say, it's the author confusing and mixing up actual transmisogyny with an imagined problem of misandry. She does this because she has gone full repression mode, and decided she has no other choice to live as a man, so her dysphoria and experiences of transmisogyny are actually men's problems.

It's a bad article, excusable because as Coatas points out, it's "essentially a diary entry." that was meant to be a way to "vent frustration" and she "did not intend for anyone else to actually read it." It is clearly not the product of a healthy mind.

I hope the author sometime in the past seven years eventually did transition, and that for whatever reason she didn't want to publicly repudiate her own article. Maybe she lost access to the medium account so she can't delete it.

Far worse than the article itself is the response to it. I've seen it passed around as some insightful commentary on gender by the "feminists are too mean to men, misandry is real" crowd. I have argued against this before. And other people have made insightful comments about it.

And learning that saint-dyke claiming that he was inspired to coin the word "transandrophobia" because of this article is the cherry on top of this shitcake of transmisogyny. For my thoughts on "transandrophobia" theory and how transmisogynistic it is, see here.

Of course, Saint-dyke absolutely could be bullshitting here. Claiming that Coates's article is what inspired him to coin the word might be a lie to claim that transandrophobia theory is not transmisogynistic because it came from listening to trans women.

This is why "listen to trans women" doesn't work. Because TME people will always choose a trans woman who confirms their prejudices. Blair White has made an entire career out of this. And Coates article is popular because it says that misandry is real and trans women's issues are partly caused by it, misgendering herself and other trans women.

And it's popular for another reason. Coates has thoroughly internalized transmisogyny, and thus her article presents a trans woman that is exactly as transmisogynistic patriarchal society wants her to be. She is suffering, but ultimately accepts her assigned role. She truly believes that her biological sex dooms her to forever be male. She literally "manages her dysphoria by means other than transition" as conversion therapy advocates want us to do. She never makes an social claim on womanhood by actually transitioning, so she doesn't invade the sacred women's spaces. Yet she performs the role of woman perfectly by serving men, by defending them from supposed feminist misandry. And she fulfils the ritualistic role that the rhetorical figure of "trans women" sometimes serves in progressive spaces, of giving a blessing to TME people's pre-existing views and actions, all while actual flesh-and-blood trans women are destroyed by those same deeply transmisogynistic spaces. This time it's a blessing for the same "misandry is real" soft-MRA bullshit that has infested the online left and created the transandrophobia crowd.

That is why this article and the positive response makes me sick, makes me feel like i'm drinking poison. This is what its fans want trans women to be like. I'm acutely aware this kind of self-denial is exactly what transmisogyny wants from me and tried to indoctrinate me into doing it. And I want none of it. I want to live, I want to be a woman.

#my writings #transmisogyny #jennifer coates #this is a lot more emotional than i usually am #but i'm so angry and disgusted

[kimdokjas]

wait wait, what’s the change tumblr did to the reblog chains ? 🥲🥲🥲 I’m so lost

okay so basically, let's say you see a post on your dash

before the update, if you clicked on a url, you could do 3 things:

view that specific reblog on the blog you follow (A)

view the previous reblog on the blog A reblogged it from (B)

view the original post on op's blog (C)

however, staff recently implemented an update where clicking on a url no longer takes you to that specific post. now, clicking on a url just takes you to the blog itself.

this means that you now get 5 things:

view ONLY that specific reblog on the blog you follow (A) -> changed location near header. also, you will now ONLY see that post and nothing else

view ONLY the original post on op's blog (C) -> changed location near header. you will only see that post and nothing else. and ONLY if the op hasn't deleted it, otherwise it just shows an error

view the blog of the person you follow (D)

view the blog of the person D reblogged it from (F) -> option B no longer exists

view the blog of the op (E)

you might be thinking: "cool! i get more options so that's good, right?" well, no.

there are SEVERAL things wrong with this and it goes beyond the prev tags issue

1) first of all, it's counterintuitive that A and C changed locations to the area near the header, especially if your userbase was already used to the previous functions. it just seems like horrible UX design to me but let's put that aside for now.

2) as you can see, option B which allowed you to see the previous reblog of a post no longer exists.

now, if you click on the previous url, you will just be taken to their entire blog. you can no longer view the post itself.

someone asked staff about this, and they replied in this post that the change was INTENTIONAL and if you want to view the previous reblog you would have to "go through the notes view".

to borrow what someone else said:

basically, this update just killed the prev tags culture in one fell swoop.

(sure, you can still use it to reply directly to the person you're reblogging from, but it's now literally useless to use "prev tags" for everyone else involved. sure, you can choose to copy tags or peer review them, but again, if people will have to copy them then the less people are likely to use them, and not every prev lends itself to peer-reviewing imo)

now, listen. i know not everyone likes the prev tags culture, but it just seems like such a poorly-thought decision to kill a culture that like... half of your entire userbase uses (see this poll as a quick reference) and that's UNIQUE to your site and sets you apart from other social media.

but it's also not even just prev tags. let's say you want to remove an annoying addition on a post's reblog chain? you can no longer do that.

however, i feel like this is the most important point:

regardless of how you may feel about the prev tags culture, the pure UI aspect of it should remain

what i mean by this is: even if you don't like prev tags, simply 1) being able to access the reblog chain, and 2) clicking on a post and actually have it take you to their BLOG (and not just a page with that one single post) is literally essential navigation.

this update threatens to drive down user engagement (which is already critically low) by making it harder to navigate. which is actually another point:

3) even if you click on A and C now to view those specific posts, it's NOT the same as it used to be.

before, you could view the reblog directly on the blog. so you could just scroll down and see the other posts leading up to it. now, you will be taken to a page where you will ONLY see that post and nothing else.

but also, you can no longer easily navigate other people's blogs.

you know how sometimes you would see like 50 notifications of someone going through an entire tag on your blog? that's going to happen a lot less, i'm afraid.

let's suppose you want to go to op's blog because they're an artist and you want to see more of their art. so you click on C and see that the tag they use for posts with their art is "#my art"

cool! before, you could just click on that tag and immediately view ALL of their art as long as the posts have that tag.

but now, if you click on that tag, it will take you to the ENTIRE tumblr tag with literally all the posts that everyone in the history of time has tagged with that specific tag.

now, to do the same thing that just took 2 clicks before, you would have to: click on C to view the post -> look for the tag you want to navigate -> click E to view their whole blog -> scroll and look for a post that just so happens to have that tag (the search function is literally useless) and hope to god that there's a recent one or you'll have to scroll for ages or simply give up -> if you happen to find it, click on that tag to navigate their posts.

you see how this is counterproductive, right? you see how this can literally drive down engagement with content creators, right?

if you make people's blogs harder to navigate, you will literally drive down the number of likes and reblogs on their posts, which have already been steadily declining for years now.

4) options D and E to view the blogs and not the posts are literally useless because you could already access other people's blogs before. you just had to click on their url to view their blogs starting from that specific post AND you could choose to just refresh it to view their newest posts.

either way, the change just seems completely unnecessary. and again, it's not just about the prev tags culture but about basic UI.

so what can we do about it?

i normally don't advocate for flooding staff with messages but i do feel like this is one of the worst updates staff has ever done (and that's saying something) and something needs to change.

even if they don't retcon the entire update, that's fine, but staff could at least add the option to view the reblog chain as a different feature (maybe even opt-in) for example. there are better ways to go about this than just axing an entire existing feature.

also, this same issue that makes it harder to navigate blogs needs to change. i feel like content creators will be especially affected by this unless this changes because you can no longer easily navigate their tags, so it will inevitably drive down engagement.

so please, contact staff and let them know we want a change.

you can contact support here!

here's a template for a possible message you could send, but feel free to edit it. (under category you can choose "Feedback")

Hi, I would like to politely request a change to the recent update that affects the reblog chain of posts. Regardless of the "prev tags" culture itself, the UI aspect of being able to view the reblog chain of a post is essential for navigation on this website. Even adding it as a separate, opt-in feature would be a huge help. Additionally, clicking on a post and then on one of the tags now takes you to the entire tumblr tag instead of the tag on that blog, which makes it harder to navigate blogs. Both of these issues have the potential to drive down user engagement by actively making it harder to navigate Tumblr, but especially for content creators. I hope you can do something to address these issues as soon as possible. Thanks in advance and have a nice day.

also, if you can and/or want, reblogs are appreciated to help spread the word!

that's pretty much the gist of the issue from what i've seen, but if anyone else has anything to add or a different way we could contact staff to make ourselves heard, please feel free to let me know!

TLDR: it's not just about prev tags, this update affects basic functionality and content creators as well

#pls reblog if u can to help spread the word!! #@anon this turned out a lot longer than i expected omg #i hope u don't mind me hijacking this ask to make a general informative post about this issue!! #ask #anonymous #tumblr #tumblr update #prev tags #signal boost #supportcontentcreators #evansyhelp #staff #long post for ts #196

[katebacks]

All Mine - JJK (M)

→ pairing | Jeon Jungkook x Reader

→ genre | smut, angst, ceo!jungkook

→ word count | 6,431

→ summary | CEO of one of the biggest companies in the country,

Jungkook didn't have much time for love. You were in love with him,

but he didn't feel the same way about you, at least that's what you thought.

→ warnings |sex, Adult content, alcoholic beverages, low slang words.

→ A/N| I've been away for a long time, but I'm slowly coming back now. I haven't come off hiatus yet, but it's a start. Please, if you like it, reblog and comment, I'm always open to suggestions.

You knew it was wrong, but it was something you couldn't avoid. From the day you laid your eyes on Jungkook, you had fallen madly in love, but always knew he didn't feel the same way and probably never would. He was cold, impatient and sometimes mean. Well, maybe most of the time he was mean, that was his nature and he made that very clear when you went on a date for the first time.

Despite being a gentleman, he wasn't romantic at all, he wasn't a man of flowers or romanticism.  He could open doors for you, he could pull out your chair for you to sit in, he could buy you gifts and expensive things, but he would never say those three words that most human beings expect to hear. And at first you were fine with that, but after a year in a relationship that was seemingly without commitments and feelings on his part, you were feeling tired. Tired of wanting him to spend the night at your apartment , tired of receiving diamond necklaces the mornings after sex as compensation for him not staying. You were tired of being treated as just an object, as something to satisfy his sexual desires, and mostly tired of him trying to control your life completely.

Jungkook was the president of a pharmaceutical company, the most successful in the country, which was on its way to winning the Academy Award for Global Entrepreneurship. So he was almost always busy, signing contracts, leading new research, traveling on business, so you only saw each other 6 times a month.  Sometimes he decided at the last minute that he would take you with him on a trip, forcing you to undo your commitments and ignore your duties for weeks, and even though you didn't have a job, since your life seemed to revolve only around him, with him paying all your expenses, including putting an apartment in your name, you attended business administration college, and you had exams and assignments that you did with your friends. That's why you always ended up getting on bad terms with your friends for missing your college dates, but you never got a bad image to the university itself, because since he started dating you, Jungkook started donating millions of dollars to your college.

But about the trips, you never complained about it. You visited Paris, Italy, Switzerland, Dubai and several other countries. During the day, you went out and got to know the city you were in, you went to the tourist spots, met new people, ate the native foods, but you always did it yourself, all alone,  because he was always busy with his business meetings, and only saw you at night, in his room.

You also had nothing to complain about the sex. It was always full of lust and madness, goosebumps and sweat. His hands went against the sensitive points of your body and your hands gripped his muscular arms. When you had your chest against the mattress, and he was on top of you, hitting you hard from behind, you would squeeze the sheet between your fingers, and he would caress your arms, bringing his hands to yours, intertwining your fingers. When you were on top, riding, the sweat pouring down your neck, strolling between your breasts, until it dripped onto Jungkook's defined abdomen, you held onto the headboard, using all your strength to do it faster and faster. As he held your waist, pressing his fingers against your skin, his eyes glued to your wet body, the moans echoing through the room, the bed creaking, he cursed as he felt himself coming, gripping your body, sitting on the bed, using the strength of his arms to keep you still on his lap, while you felt his hot liquid spurt into you, the pleasure taking over your body, and you were delirious, coming on his dick.

Then you fell down on the mattress, he pulled you into a hug until he felt that your breathing had normalized, and that your body had stopped spasming. He would get up, get his clothes and not even shower, just kiss you good night and walk out the door of your apartment, leaving you too tired to even try to stop him. And then it would take him days to respond to your messages or call you for yet another overwhelming night.

You were just tired of this bullshit.

You had enough money in the bank to support yourself for months, even years if you lowered your life quality  a little bit and stopped buying so many expensive things. And if you needed to, you had real diamond necklaces, earrings and rings that you could sell for a good price, as well as exclusive brand clothes, shoes and bags. You worked before you met him and your old boss assured you that if you wanted your job back, you would have it. There was nothing that could stop you from getting your freedom back, and meeting other people, having a loving relationship with someone else, other than the fact that you were totally heads over heels in love with Jungkook.

"So, are you coming to celebrate Minho's birthday with us tonight?" Rosé asked as you walked across campus. She was your age and in your class, she was also your best friend and shared everything with you, just like you did with her. She had a body to be envied, buttery brown, caramelized, as she liked to say. Her light pink hair shone as she walked and drew stares, compliments and sighs. She wasn't exactly the easiest person to deal with, she had the strong spirit, the strongest personality and that's why you admired her so much. As long as you had known each other, you had never seen her cry for any man, quite the contrary, it was men who cried for her. And she was the only one of your friends who knew about Jungkook.

"Yeah, I can't even remember the last time I had something with alcohol. I need to drink and go wild."

"Your Sugar Daddy won't let you drink.” She laugh.  “I highly doubt he'll let you hang out with us, anyway. Doesn't he hate you going out without him? So bossy, gosh."

"He's not my Sugar Daddy." You protested.

"Oh no? So what do we call a rich old man who pays everything for a young girl? Philanthropist? Good old man?"

"He's thirty-two. He's only fiveyears older than I am, he’s not that old.” 

Rose rolled her eyes.

"Well, he's not your boyfriend, so..."

"Anyway, we're not hanging out anymore." You shrugged. "The last time I saw him was almost two weeks ago. Since then he hasn't called or texted, and I haven't tried to get in touch either."

"Have you finally come to your senses and realized he wants nothing more than sex with you? And that he will never want to get married or have children?" She asked stopping in her tracks and grabbing your arm, causing you to stop as well. You just shook your head and nodded, a tear starting to run down your cheek, even though you fought so hard to hold it back. Rosé hugged you and stroked your back.

"I just wanted to understand why he can't love me. Am I that bad? Am I so stupid that he didn't even want to spend time with me to get to know me? Am I only good for sex?"

"Don't say those things, this guy is just another asshole in the world and he doesn't deserve you to spend your expensive foundation on him. Not even if he paid for it."

That comment made you laugh through your tears and be grateful for having Rosé by your side.

"Come on, let's pick out our clothes for tonight. Let's dress as slutty as possible, and oh, Minho has a crush on you. Maybe tonight you should use him to forget about Jungkook."

...

You were just getting dressed, wearing  a short, low-cut black satin dress, and high heels of the same color. You chose to pull your hair into a high bun, leaving your shoulders exposed.

You were just putting on your earrings when the doorbell rang. And you shivered all over. Usually, the doorman called to let you know that there was someone in the building who was asking permission to go up to your apartment, and the neighbors almost never stayed home as they were always traveling for work, so there was only one option of who was at your door.

You held yourself still, hoping that if you didn't make a noise, he would leave, but a few seconds later you heard the electronic lock being unlocked and the door opening. It was Jungkook. He always rang the doorbell first before entering the apartment so he wouldn't scare you. But still, you were scared as fuck. He never came to visit you without telling you first. Something was wrong, and you could sense it.

"Princess, are you home?" You could hear his voice coming from the living room, as you heard his footsteps in the hallway, probably heading towards your room. That was it. There was nothing to do. You simply went back to looking at yourself in the mirror, finishing putting on your earrings, remaining calm. When he entered the room, he stopped pacing suddenly, frowning at your, not expecting to find your like this.

God, how wonderful he was. He was all in black, wearing casual clothes, with his suede shoe. His brown hair tossed back, and his scent invading the room. He carried a bottle of wine, a Romanée Conti Grand Cru in one hand while his cell phone and apartment access card were in the other. You looked at him in the mirror, waiting for him to say something, but he continued to stare, relentlessly. You turned to him, his eyes falling on your shoulders and cleavage, for a few seconds he remained there, just looking at you, until he finally seemed to come to his senses and raised his gaze to yours, still frowning.

"Why are you dressed like that?" He asked in a serious tone, the kind he used when he didn't like something. You looked at yourself for a few seconds before turning your attention to him.

"Why? Isn't it good?"

"You look absolutely gorgeous." He exclaimed without hesitation, bringing a stupid smile to your face."Did we have anything scheduled today?" Jungkook looked at his rolex, trying to remember if he had forgotten any appointments he had made with you that night.

"Hmm, no." You said, still unsure what to say. Jungkook raised his head, again looking towards you with a frown. You bit your lip and turned back to the dressing table behind you, opening your jewelry drawer and looking for a necklace. "I'm going out with some friends today." And so you chose one that had only one cut diamond pendant in the shape of a heart. Jungkook had given it to you for your birthday, two months after you started hanging out.

“What friends?” You didn't even have the courage to look at his reflection in your mirror as you heard his voice getting angrier. But you couldn't understand why. He'd said himself that there was nothing between you, so why did he seem so upset?

“Some college friends. It's one of our classmates' birthday today and Rosé invited me to go with them to a pub downtown.” And that was it, you were ready to leave.

"Okay." he almost whispered. "And why didn't you tell me?" He asked putting the wine bottle on top of the dresser that was next to the door, and shoved his hands in his pants pockets. You shrugged and turned to him, who still had that confused, troubled expression on his face.

"You didn't call or text, you just... disappeared for almost two weeks, I thought you'd finally found a new sex toy and had forgotten about me. I was just moving on."

And so you walked past him, heading to the closet and looking for something. Jungkook blinked a few times until he finally understood what was happening and turned towards you, who was wearing your jacket.

"Is there something you want to tell me, (y/n)?" He never calls you by your name, only when you were in a fight or about to get into one. And you didn't feel like fighting at all, because you knew that every time, you ended up in bed, and he ended up leaving, as usual. You just sighed, fighting the urge to start cursing and jumping into his arms, and just grabbed your keys and your cell phone off the nightstand next to your bed. When you turned to him again, he remained motionless.

"I don't have anything to talk to you about, Jungkook. Like you said, we're just two adults having no-strings-attached sex, I don't owe you any explanations.” You didn't even know where you got so much strength to say that. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going out with my friends. If you want to stay, make yourself at home, if not, don't forget to lock the door when you leave."

When you walked out the apartment door, you felt like you could finally breathe again. You weren't afraid of Jungkook's reaction, you knew he would never do anything violent or dangerous to you, but you knew he was quite possessive of his stuff, and you knew he thought you was his. And to be honest, you knew you were his, you felt like his, but that had to change, you had to get over it. You wanted a family, children someday, and you knew he didn't want something like that. He wasn't the right man for you.

It didn't take long for your taxi to arrive, and by the time you boarded, Jungkook still hadn't left the building. Maybe he would stay there a little longer, maybe he would wait for you to come back. But you would try not to worry about it.

When you arrived at the pub, Rosé was outside, waiting for you to arrive. You had already been to that place once, Jungkook was the one who took you and there you’d stayed in the VIP area. It was quite an experience counting that you had sex in one of the bathrooms.

“Ready to forget that asshole?”

No, you weren’t

“Yeah, I am.”

But you could pretend it.

...

The night was moving really slowly, you had like three or four drinks, and had a bunch of strangers hitting on you like they know you. The songs were good and you even danced some with Rosé, but it was weird to be in a place like this without Jungkook shielding you from the others. You always felt safe when he was close to you, but even with your male college friends hanging around, you couldn't let go, for fear that one of those weird guys that was hitting on you might decide to do something. Being a woman wasn't easy, but being a woman in the middle of a pub full of drunk men and possible predators was even harder. And you hated it. You hated misogyny in society, you hated feeling like a targed, and you hated feeling so dependent on Jungkook.

"Is everything alright?" Minho's voice sounded close to your ear, making you look over your shoulder and see him standing right next to you. He was a tall, handsome man with black hair and an athlete's physique, he was polite and kind, and he loved children. He would be your perfect match if there wasn't an asshole on your mind.

“Yeah, I’m just tired.”  You smiled. “So? Having fun?”

"Oh, I don't know. Sometimes I think I've lost the ability to have fun at parties that start after 8 pm." He said scratching the back of his neck. "I guess I'm too old for these things."

"Don't say that, you must be tired of studying and working so hard." You said taking a sip of your drink.

"But what about you? You don't seem to be enjoying yourself either." He sat on the bench next to you, turning to face you, his arm resting on the counter, very, very close to you, so close that his hand almost touched yours that that covered the glass on the counter, preventing anyone from trying to put something in your drink.

"No, I'm having fun." You lied. "I'm just really tired, it's been a long week."

"Well, yeah, Rosé said you've been pretty busy with some personal projects. And to be honest, I've always been really curious about what those projects were, or if you were actually just dating someone and didn't want anyone to know." He gave a wan smile. "But she assured me that you didn't have a boyfriend and that you were actually looking for one."

You laughed humorlessly. Rosé, i’ll kill you. You thought.

"It's like her to say something like that."

"Look, I'll be really straight, I know we're not that close, we are both always busy and we hardly see each other at university, but you know, I kind of have a crush on you, and by crush I mean I'm dying to be more than your friend." You felt your cheeks burn, but couldn't stop staring into his eyes, which gave him enough confidence to go on. "And if you give me a chance, I think I could make a great boyfriend. Not that I'm saying we're going to start dating right on the first date." He chuckled sheepishly, and you thought that was so cute that you couldn't contain a shy laugh either. "I'm really bad at these things, sorry, I'm not very good at hitting on a girl." He cleared his throat, glancing around. "Anyway, I think we should dance, to see if this embarrassing moment can be broken."

"That would be a good idea, but I kind of don't like dancing around all these people, there are a lot of men here and I don't like the idea of a strange man trying to rub himself against me.”

"They are not going to touch you." He said smiling, reaching out to you. "I won’t let them." You bit your lip, thinking for a second. You needed to take a chance on whatever it was, only then would you be able to forget Jungkook. Or at least begin to try.

You smiled and nodded, reaching your hand towards him, but before you could even bring your fingers into Minho's palm, a huge male hand wrapped around yours, making you turn around to see who it was, your eyes widening when you saw Jungkook looking down to you. And what surprised you the most at that moment was not the fact that he was there, but the soft look he had.

"Forgive my tardiness, princess." He said smiling, bringing his face closer to yours and giving you a kiss on the forehead, leaving you even more in shock. "Kyle and I got stuck in a huge traffic jam." Kyle, the man almost as tall as Jungkook, dark-haired, dressed in a suit, who was standing two steps behind him, was his private security, his bodyguard. There was nowhere Jungkook went that Kyle wasn't together, except of course, your apartment. You didn't talk much, usually he was very quiet, and polite, he greeted you and that was it, he was silent for the rest of the time.

“You must be the birthday boy, I suppose. I hope I got here before you blew out the candles.” He turned to Minho who had a confused look and still had his hand extended towards you. If it had been on other occasions, you would have caught the sarcasm in Jungkook's words, but at that moment, you were still trying to process that he was still holding your hand.

On the other hand, Minho seems to have understood very well what he meant.

“(y/n), there you are... Oh my god what is the steel giant doing here?” Rosé came out of the crowd that was occupying the dance floor, and just like you, she widened her eyes when she saw him.

"I'm sorry, but who are you?" Minho asked, putting his hand down. A smile appeared on Jungkook's face as the sparkle in Minho's eyes faded.

"I'm Jeon Jungkook, (y/n)'s boyfriend." He simply said. The two girls looked at each other, still wide-eyed, mouths agape, while hissing ‘oh my god’ without making a single sound.

"Wow, you really do have a boyfriend." Minho laughed dryly. "I don't... I thought... Rosé told me you didn't have anyone... I didn't want to... You should have told me." 

You just wanted to curl up and hide from all that embarrassment. You didn't even know you had a boyfriend, how could you tell others that you had one?

“No, no, no, she doesn’t have a boyfriend, he’s lying.” Rosé intervened, making everyone look at her. Even Jungkook frowned at her. "If she had a boyfriend, she would have said it, wouldn't you (y/n)?" 

You wanted to say something, but you didn't know what. Luckily, Jungkook always had an answer for everything and saved you the shame of making up a blatant lie.

“We kept our relationship a secret for some time, I didn't want her to be disturbed by onlookers or reporters. I didn't want our personal lives to end up on the cover of a magazine.”

“What, you’re like famous or something?” Rosé questioned, crossing her arms in a very arrogant and petulant way.

"I'm just Hanmi's CEO."

"You mean the Hanmi Enterprise?" Minho asked totally shocked. Jungkook nodded. "Like, the biggest pharmaceutical company in the country?"

“Yes.”

"Oh my god sir, I swear I didn't know (y/n) was your girlfriend, I would never do anything...” And he started freaking out. “My god, the Hanmi Enterprise is every business administration student's dream in this country, the internship project that you have is just amazing."

Rosé rolled her eyes and grabbed your hand.

"While you guys sit there sucking each other's balls, (y/n) and I are going to the bathroom."

And she started pulling you towards the bathrooms. The moment you were inside, she turned towards you and slapped your arm.

“Ouch. Why did you do that?”

“Why did i...What the hell were you thinking of calling the Iceman, Olaff's creator, to come here?”

“How many drinks did you have? Elza is the creator of Olaff, not the... Ouch, stop hitting me.” 

"If you didn't invite him, then how the hell did he... Oh my lord. " And she covered her mouth, her eyes widening. "Do you think he implanted a mini tracker in you while you slept?"

“He didn’t do that, Rosé.”

"So he's tracking your phone, what a freak."

"He doesn't..." You took a deep breath. "Rosé, he's a partner at this nightclub. I've come here other times with him, one of his friends must have called and said I was here."

"Why didn't you tell me that when we arrived? I could have chosen another place."

"I didn't know he would come after me, at least not after the short conversation we had before I came here."

"What conversation?" She asked stopping to go around in circles. "I thought you guys weren't talking."

"And we weren't, but today he showed up at my apartment by surprise, all…perfect, holding a very expensive bottle of wine. I said I was going out with some friends, he asked why I didn't tell him, I said I didn't owe him an explanation, and I left."

"Oh, so I know exactly what's going on here, he's trying to show that he's the alpha male, and that you can even say you don't owe him an explanation, but still, you belong to him."

"Well maybe I do."

"I can't believe you're saying this." She said, in disbelief. "Have you forgotten how he's been treating you all this time?"

"Look Rosé, he never promised me roses and hearts, I always knew he didn't want a serious relationship, but you saw what he just did, he declared in front of other people that he's my boyfriend. That has to be worth something." You said throwing your hands up. "I think perhaps I should give him one more chance."

The girl was thoughtful for a few seconds, until a smile that you knew well appeared on her lips.

“I know this face, what are you up to?”

“I thought of a great way to test your Sugar Daddy.” And so she walked towards the door, while you rolled your eyes and followed.

"He's not my sugar daddy." And when they opened the door, they both came face to face with Kyle, the bodyguard, who was standing in front of them. “Kyle, what are you doing here?”

"What do you think? The old man told him to come after you. So controlling.” Rosé complained.

“Mr Jeon asked to let you know that he and your friends are in the VIP area, and that he is waiting for you there.” Kyle said simply. Rosé just sighed and headed in a direction opposite to the VIP area. “Is your friend all right, Miss (y/l/n)? Need something?"

"No, she's fine, you get used to it with time."

After climbing the stairs that led to the VIP area, (y/n) noticed that the two sofas were almost full, there was only one vacant seat, on a loveseat sofa and was right next to Jungkook. He was engaged in conversation with the other guys, and they were probably talking about politics and his company. Deciding you should drink some more, to process everything that was going on, you headed to the drinks counter and sat there, ordering a margherita for the waiter.

It didn't take long before a hand went to your waist and Jungkook sat down beside you.

"So... Steel giant, huh?"

(y/n) looked at him for a few seconds before taking a sip of her drink.

"Don't think about it too much, Rosé is 5.25ft tall, anyone is a giant for her."

"She doesn't seem to like me very much, you must have spoken very badly about me." He said nodding to the bartender that already knew what his drink would be.

“I only told the truth. It's not my fault if you're the bad guy.”

"I'm not the bad guy, only when you ask me to be." He whispered the last part. At other times it would turn you on, but at that moment, you weren't in the mood for it. Then you swiveled around on the bench, facing him.

“Look, why are you here anyway?” You asked. “Why did you come to tell my friends that you're my boyfriend when you really aren't? Have you come to show that you own me?”

“To be honest, it made me jealous to death that you could be getting hooked up with other men, and that possibly at one time or another, you would fall for one of them.” He said staring at Minho while he was talking to his friends. “And I could have sworn you were falling for that guy.”

“And what do you have to do with it, Jungkook? It was you who said that..."

"I know what I said, princess, and I was wrong."

And he made you gawk.

“Were you?”

"Yeah." He nodded. "Look, I'm not good at this, and I'm trying to change my behavior with you because you deserve so much more than a guy like me and I want to be someone who deserves you." He sighed. “Today I received the best news I could receive in the business world. And the first thing I thought of was you, I thought how much I wanted to share this news with you and how important you are to me. So I went to your apartment with that wine. I thought it was about time I had a conversation with you about my feelings, about why I was so…cold.”

"Well, you can tell me now." You said still not believing what you had heard.

“No, it's a conversation we should have alone. And I don't want to stop you from having fun with your friends. In fact, I just want you to know that I don't think of you as a toy, I know my actions so far just said that, but I swear that's not how I feel about you." He said getting up and approaching you, hovering over you, holding your face. "I just wanted you to know that..."

"(y/n)!" Rosé's voice caught your attention, and you turned to the side, seeing your friend running towards you. “Come with me, now!” And so she grabbed your arm, taking it from Jungkook's hands, who just sighed and sat down again, watching you walk down the stairs until you lost sight of you.

"What's it?" you asked, your voice not loud enough to override the loud music in the room. You were being pulled into the crowd, on the dance floor in the common part of the Pub.

“You will dance with me. Our special Have Mercy choreography.”

"What? What are you...”

“I'm going to prove to you that Jungkook doesn't deserve a second chance, that he's controlling and that the moment he sees you dancing sensually among this bunch of guys, he's going to drag you out of here. Because that's what shit men do, they fuck women up, he takes away your freedom and ends your life. Trust me."

"Rosé, he's not like that."

"Oh no? Then dance with me and prove me wrong."

When CHLOE's voice invaded the place, Rosé started dancing the 'special choreography' they had created in their freshman year of college, when they met and became best friends. It was something sensual and provocative, and one that would surely attract the attention of both sexes there. Praying that no strangers would try to grope you, you started dancing with your friend.  

You weren't the best dancer in the world, but you always liked to dance, it made you elastic and it was a great exercise for people who, like you, didn't like working out. Rosé had a lot more waddle, she could wiggle her hips a lot better, and she created all the choreography. And if she didn't like what she studied in college so much, she'd probably be a dancer.

And the highlight of the choreography, in your opinion, was when you wiggled your ass, keeping your legs straight and lowered your torso, touching your fingertips to the floor, and then you went up at once, throwing your hair back, and lowered yourselves. at once, as if you were actually going to sit down.

“(y/n) and Rosé are killing it.” One of the friends from the university who was in the VIP area said, making the others look over the railing, to the dance floor below, seeing the two swaying among the other people, attracting several looks.Jungkook approached the protection bar, holding a glass of whiskey and watched you, who tossed your hair, went down and up, made provocative movements and was attracting a lot of attention.

He looked at Kyle who got the message and just waved his hand, calling out to the other security guards who followed the boss to the common area dance floor.

Jungkook looked around, seeing the amount of men who were watching you too.

“Bunch of pervs. Kyle" He called, not taking his eyes off his girl.

“Sir?”

"Don't let any man touch her."

"Yes sir." And so Kyle led the security guards who, one by one, barred any man from approaching the two girls in the middle of the dance floor who with your dance, now infected other girls who danced sensually around them. Jungkook started walking in circles, slowly, around the girls, eyes glued to you. In his mind, several scenarios were happening, several memories were reproduced and the fire that burned in his chest, only seemed to burn with even more intensity.

When herealize that a man managed to avoid the security guards and enter the circle, and that he had his eyes and even his hands raised towards you, Jungkook quickened his pace, slipping between you and the boy, looking him up and down, his gaze cold and intimidating, not needing anything else for the boy to back off.

At the end of the song, you and Rosé celebrated and only then looked around, seeing that the security guards had made a kind of barrier, leaving the men out and the women in. You both looked towards Jungkook who was beside Kyle, looking at you with a smug smile on his face as he shoved his hands into his pants pockets. You can't help but smile.

"I told you." You turned to your friend who looked nothing less than impressed.

"He literally pushed every man in this pub away from you, just to let you dance." She laughed. "Yeah, that's pretty cool."

You walked towards him and let him hug you by the waist.

"Do I need to do anything else to prove how important you and your happiness are to me?" You looked around, biting your lip, trying to think of something. The whole situation, the dancing, the display of power, made you aroused and you could feel that you were wet, so when you saw what you wanted, you turned to him and leaned on his shoulders, bringing your lips to his ear.

"I want you to fuck me on those tables over there." You said pointing to the darkest corner of the pub, where literally no one was sitting, as they were more interested in dancing and getting high than sitting. Jeon let out a groan and tightened his hands on your waist, starting to push you towards the tables, he never backed down on a challenge and was always willing to fuck anywhere you were comfortable with.

Minutes later, you were at one of those tables both in the dark. You were kneeling on the floor under the table. He had his pants open and his cock was in your hand. You moved your soft hand over him as your mouth sucked on the top, making Jungkook grunt and grab your hair, moving your head according to the pleasure he was feeling. And with every movement you made with your tongue, he pushed your head harder until you swallowed his whole dick, being able to feel the bottom of your throat, moving his hips against your mouth, fucking your throat until you are out of breath and patting his thigh, making him let go, watching the saliva run from your mouth to the middle of your breasts, making him even harder with that sight.

He cursed - his words were not heard because of the loud music. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a condom. He ripped the package open with his teeth as you stood up and had your back to him. As soon as he put a condom on his cock, he grabbed your waist and pulled you onto his lap,pulled your panties to the side and let him position his cock at the entrance to your dripping pussy. You slowly sat up until you were full of him, your walls getting used to the size he was. You spread your hands across the table, slowly moving your hips back and forth. Jungkook threw his head back, hitting the club wall, cursing as you slowly rolled on his lap, lust taking over his body, totally at your mercy. He used to be the dominator in bed, but he would never lie about the fact that if you asked, he'd drop to his knees for you, his princess. He got so weak when you moved like that.  He cupped your waist, pressing his fingers into your skin, in an almost silent request for you to move faster, and you did, riding his cock with ease.

And between moans and curses your chest was against the table, Jungkook was standing behind you, one hand resting on your back while the other held your waist, hitting hard from behind. His grunts and groans of pleasure were totally masked by the electronic music that was now blaring from the speakers. No one there had noticed the madness they were committing, and if they did, no one cared. His cock hitting the right place, making you roll your eyes and grab the edge of the table while you bit your own lips, feeling your pussy tighten around him, your core so hot and so tight, it hurt.

"Fuck." You grunted as you felt orgasm reaching your body, as he increased the force of the blows, now pulling your arms, making you stand, your ass lifted against his hip, one of his arms hugging your waist, while with the other hand he grabbed your throat. He bit down on your shoulder, sucking on your skin as he slammed his cock against your pussy. “Fucking hell, fuck.” He hissed as he came. His cum filling the condom and he in the midst of his delirium of pleasure, he wished he was filling your pussy with his cum, imagining how pleasurable it would be to see his cum running down your legs after he filled you.

He collapsed sitting on the seat, taking the condom off his dick and zipping his pants while you adjusted the dress and hair. He pulled you onto his lap, sitting you sideways on his thighs and hugging you, letting you lay your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes and resting.

"We should go home." He whispered to you, who just nodded, too tired to speak. He then got up with you on his lap, carrying you out of the club, and to the car, where Kyle took them to your apartment.

And for the first time, Jungkook slept with you in your bed.

all rights reserved © katebacks | 2018/2022 — no reposting and/or modifying of any form on any medium is allowed. no translations allowed.

#bangtanarmynet #bangtanshadowfamily #thekpopnetwork #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #bts #bangtan smut #jeon jungkook angst #jungkook angst #ceo!jeongguk #jeon jeongguk smut #jeongguk smut #jeon jeongguk angst

[bowtiepastabitch]

Deeply Transgender and Vividly Pornographic: a deep dive into what makes a fic queer

This is a response to the wonderful @ineffabildaddy making this post, which it was originally going to just be a reblog to but once I started approaching a thousand words it was a bit unwieldy so we're just going all the way. If second base is reading their fics and third base is actually talking to your mutuals, I have no clue what this is.

Here's the prompt text that started it all:

Alright, well I am nothing if not a scientist (narrator voice: they were, in fact, a humanities major), so I spent several hours of my weekend putting this together because I'm a burnt out academic and this is the enrichment in my enclosure. Readers, this is going to contain experpts of some very spicy stuff, so stop here if you're not interested. Me bringing porn? To your tumblr dash? It's more likely than you think.

All fics and such referenced will be linked at the bottom of the page.

~~~

Heteronormativity and cisnormativity, while unfortunately the dominant norm for mainstream pornography, make little appearance within the fandom writing spaces I myself spend time in. That's not to say I haven't read my fair shair of painfully straight smut in my lifetime, but simply that I have taste and am lucky to be neck deep in a fandom with very little of it. Nonetheless, as a card-carrying queer and writer myself, I consider myself quite familiar with the distinctive traits and patterns of queer and cishet pornographic writing. Beyond merely a focus on non-male pleasure or the subtle presence of queer or trans characters, the characterization of queer fanfiction is distinct and has entirely different mannerisms in dealing with conceptions of the body and pleasure. I'll primarily be citing Ineffabildaddy's work, for the sake of a focused analysis, who I will henceforth be referring to as Sam for the sake of pseudo-academic flow.

There are certain linguistic patterns that tend to distinguish heterosexual and heteronormative depictions of sex from queer ones. For instance, "cunt" is utilized sparingly within heteronormative contexts for its vulgarity and added obscenity, whilst queer writers use it pretty universally and without the same subtext. Throughout his writing, Sam works with this queer-coded vocabulary pretty consistently. In "Strawberry Scripture" (F/M), he describes how "Crowley's cunt... was damn-near swollen" and how Aziraphale has to resist "Bury[ing] his face in it immediately." No cis-het man has ever thought about eating pussy that way, and if you find one I'll eat my fucking hat. Likewise, vocabulary for the phallic tends to veer in the direction of "cock" over anything else. Interestingly, this creates a set of contrasting pairings. Heteronormative slang, from my obvervation, is more likely to use 'dick' and 'pussy', and, especially in conjunction, it creates a very distinctive mouthfeel that separates the two and poses them as opposites. 'Pussy', in particular, has a much more feminized feel when juxtaposed against 'dick', favoring much softer consonants and the english diminutive 'y' ending. 'Cock' and 'cunt', in comparison, have a very similar sound and feeling to them, distancing itself from hetero-cis-normative gender dualism of the language. There is, of course, plenty of nuance to this and the use of a variety of language in subverting cisnormative ideas about the sexed body as well, with phrases like 'boypussy' and 'girldick' being rather essential to the way many trans people describe their own bodies. "Fandom's Pornagraphic Subset," (yes I'm stealing sources from my research paper on monsterfucking, suck my dick) an article published in 2021 by Silja Kukka, describes how the "fleshy, hyperbolic descriptions of sex" that characterize this kind of writing are essential to what she dubs the "[creation of] a new genderqueer place outside of the gender dichotomy"(57). If you read enough smut, you know exactly what this is talking about. For example, in "Despite Knowing Better,"(F/M) we get vivid imagery to describe the way "streaks of her spit oozed from her mouth even as Aziraphale fucked it"(Ch5) and of "her walls quivering and clenching around him."(Ch3) This level of graphic sexual depiction goes beyond what would be considered 'tasteful' or 'sexy' in a heteronormative concept of pornography.

In terms of tropes, let's do a deep dive into "Strawberry Scripture"(F/M) to find what makes it queer beyond it's apparently straight pairing. To preface, this fic involves both foodplay and monsterfucking, but we're only gonna analyze one. The inherent queerness of monsterfucking is actually something I've written an entire academic paper on, so I suppose I'll start there. There's something very queer and often very trans about subverting the standard playbook of sexual acts, and while kink itself can easily be heterosexual, most monsterfucking falls far outside that category no matter what genital configuration those involved have. Monsterfucking tends to reject the phallocentrism of heteronormativity and mainstream kink by subverting the concept of the human body itself, giving inhuman and monstrous qualities to characters usually for sex appeal or general kinky shenanigans. While there's an argument to be made for heteronormativity still being able to creep into certain spaces, that certainly isn't true for this fic. There's something intrinsically transgressive about creating an erogenous zone out of a feature that would largely be considered horror or 'gross' in any other form of media, which is exactly what Sam does here as he describes the "cool, satiny sensation that the plates of her scales against his tip engendered." The scales are not merely called apon for their invocation of the unusual but to give them an eroticism in and of themselves, with Crowley reaching orgasm through their stimulation. We also slide gently into Monsterfucker territory in "Close (well you couldn't get much closer)" (M/M), where an argument could be made that the most trans-coded element isn't even Crowley's T-dick but instead the presence of a magic angel dildo. (sentences I never thought I'd fucking say but here we are.) There's something deeply transgender about the deconstruction of genital purpose in sex that recontextualizes the gendered body's role in pleasure. It falls into the same semiotic revolution and reclaiming of the body as the changes in language used by trans folks to rename and reidentify the literal physicality of the body by ones own standards (ie T-dick).

Another major trademark in departing from heteronormatized porn is the shift in narrative focus away from penetrative sex. That is, even in paragraphs where the main sex event is penetration, it rarely takes up even half the prose. The majority of narration is focused on surrounding or tangential actions: "the flowing movement of ... hips was sedate and wanton and lusciously provocative,"(1) "watching the muscles which resided there tense and relax alternately with pleasure,"(2) "his tongue stole past his teeth and slid over them,"(3) and "he whispered, his voice aching and curling and stretching for her"(4); all excerpts pulled from moments in which penetration is taking place, yet the concentration is anywhere but. Likewise, the act of penetration itself only takes up a small portion of physical sex acts in the grander scheme of Sam's writing. Instead, we as readers are presented with a vast spread of cock-sucking, pussy-eating, fingering, teasing, frottage, kissing, and more. Contrast this with the cis-hetero norm, where penetrative sex is the endgoal, and any other action is shucked aside to play second fiddle as mere foreplay. It's the reason virginity as a concept is directly tied to the mystical hymen and one's experience with penetration; a straight girl can suck dick a thousand times and still consider herself a virgin. As such, in a piece of pornographic writing where I have significant trouble finding lines to pull specifically and exclusively describing penetration (seriously, try it out yourself), the heterosexual influence is negligible. And yes, I'm talking about all of them. I had to restructure an entire argument that focused on comparing lines from different works because it was so difficult to find them.

So, in conclusion, Sam, love, there is not an ounce of heteronormativity in even the "straightest" of your writing. Congratulations.

Links, in order of reference:

Strawberry Scripture (3)

Fandom's Pornographic Subset, article by Silja Kukka and a great read

Despite Knowing Better... (4)

Close (you couldn't be much closer)

Many Different Ways to Eat an Oyster (1)

I'm Beginning to See the Light (2)

Author's notes, and then I promise I'll leave y'all alone: Hi! This started as a short analysis but quickly became a three(?)(maybe more?) hour labor of love analyzing the things I love most about both Sam's writing and the writing in this community as a whole. Please please please ask me questions, I'm an autistic little bitch and I like knowing things. My ask box? Open. Comments? Open. Reblogs? Open. If you've read this far, I fucking love you and I am kissing you on the mouth right now. Don't worry, my gender is just queer so it's gay no matter what. <3<3<3

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #ineffable husbands #good omens fandom #nerd shit #why do any of you follow me #gomens

[madnessr]

Last Night Part Two

Poly Lost Boys + Michael x Reader

Synopsis: You still ponder what really killed you, the day you died or the day you lost your humanity. When the dawn becomes something you'll never see again, will you ever be able to accept your new nature?

Summary: Micheals Ex-Girlfriend received a concerning phone call from Lucy begging her to come and check up on a now distant and unrecognizable Micheal. But what was meant to be a simple reunion and check-in, instead leads to four very rambunctious bikers and an old lover, to be extremely opposed to letting you leave again.

Warning: Animal mutilation, blood, blood drinking, minor injuries, hurt/comfort, some angst, grinding, murder, corrupted representation of Christianity 

Part One

Word Count: 10k

There will be no explicit or detailed smut because I wanted to keep this fic gender neutral! I'm sorry to anyone who expected some spicer scenes with our boys!

Your comments and reblogs mean the world to me and motivate me to keep writing! Please keep leaving them since I love to read them! This will be the final chapter in the"Last Night" series since I'm dying to write about something new. Let me know what you thought of this!

If you needed to explain how you were feeling, the best way to describe it would be in a state of constant panic. Your mind was throbbing, eyes catching onto everything, yet nothing simultaneously. You had become all too aware of the rising sun, the bright light blinding you. Planting a powerful migraine against your head. You couldn't breathe, you couldn't feel but felt everything at the same time. Heard nothing but could make sense of the squirrels hopping from branch to branch. You cried, utterly unaware of where you were. In that moment of panic, when that monster finally let you go. You didn't look back; you didn't stop until you felt like you had put enough distance between you and Santa Carla. 

You sat somewhere in the forest, crawled against a tree as if the wide bark would somehow hide you as you wheezed for air. The moist soil underneath you tainted your pants, leaving you looking exactly how you felt. Some of your blood had soaked up into the top of your shirt, while the rest grew dry and uncomfortable against your skin. 

Your body ached. Your teeth burned, and so did your hands. Glancing down, you nearly threw yourself back into despair at the sight of your sharp, nail-like claws. What happened to you? And most importantly, what were you now? 

You couldn't help but wail, your knees pressed tightly against your chest as you wrapped your arms around yourself. As if you could protect yourself from whatever was happening, even though you knew how nonsensical that hope was. It still provided some comfort for you. 

You had stayed in the position for hours, and although your sobbing was long replaced with tiredness, you tried staying awake. But something about the sun forced your eyes closed, and when you opened them once more, the sun was setting, and your throat burned. You groaned, sitting up from your lying position. You didn't know what to do; you couldn't return to Lucy's, especially if she had something to do with this. The thought made your stomach tie itself in knots, a sinking feeling nearly pressing you against the ground. How have you gotten yourself into this position? 

How could anyone do this to you? Your fists balled at the thought, your sharp nails slicing into your palm. You slowly got up, stumbling around for a little. You could hear so much, could see more precisely than ever before. It gave you a massive headache; some part of you just wanted to curl up against the tree stump and wake up from this nightmare. But you couldn't, no matter how much that thought broke you. This was real; whatever was happening was real. 

You stumbled aimlessly through the woods, trying to figure things out away from the rest of society. A part of you felt safe, knowing that he couldn't find you in the middle of nowhere. The sharp sound of a twig snapping pulled you out of your thoughts, predatory eyes instantly zeroing in on the location the sound originated from. The sound came from a bush, the leaves rustling as something clearly nudged and navigated through the shrubbery. You stood still, not trusting yourself. A peculiar itch, almost like a nervous tick, urged you towards the noise. Your hands craved for something, your teeth ached, and your throat felt dry. Your body screamed for something you didn't understand or refused to recognize. 

Your breath caught in your throat as a small, brown bunny peeked out from the bushes. Its small button nose twitched as it sniffed and analyzed its surroundings. It's cheeks made the whiskers flick, small paws tapping the ground several times before dedicating the mossy floor save enough to hop on. You froze, that nagging urge growing into a raging protest. Before you could even hesitate to question the simple thought, you pounced. The small, high-pitched screech of the bunny brought tears to your eyes as you gripped it. Getting the small fluffy body to your mouth and biting into it. The tiny creature uttered another small cry before going silent, its previously kicking paws and legs halting before slowly sinking and stilling completely. But you didn't care; you couldn't, not when that god-awful nectar was pouring down your throat. Calming the fire, quenching your pain, all through the price of another. 

You were messy, and the grip of your jaw was so fierce that you could hear several crunching of bones under your grip. You gulped up whatever you could, blood dripping out the corners of your mouth, trailing down your neck, and staining your shirt collar. You sucked until nothing came out of the poor bunny anymore, letting go and looking down at the life you just stole. Realization dawns on you like boulders, dropping the poor lifeless body and beginning to weep. You killed something; you killed that bunny. You felt hysterical, hands twisting themselves in your hair as you hyperventilated. The word monster takes the form of a mantra, marching to the beat of your racing heartbeat. 

The burning in your throat died down but was quickly replaced by the aching of your heart. Mourning what you had done it took you nearly an hour to calm down. You had tried wiping and scrubbing off the blood on your body, most likely smudging and making your appearance much worse, but at the moment, all you wanted was that crimson color off of you. It stained, and you weren't sure if you could ever indeed wash it off. It didn't stain your skin, but your soul would bear this mark for eternity. 

You gently shifted the bunny, starting to dig a small hole beside the bushes it hopped out from. Your appearance couldn't get any worse now, blood and dirt-stained clothes. Grimy hands, the dark soil stuck underneath your fingernails. When considering the hole deep enough to prevent any predator from digging up the carcass, gently lower the bunny, covering it with dirt and patting the ground flat afterward. You sat before the makeshift grave, not knowing what to think or feel. There was too much, and as you sat rooted to the ground, you tried figuring out what to do next. A small thought came to you: if anyone could help you now, at least give you refuge, it would be the church. Wasn't that their whole shtick? Providing aid and guidance in moments of doubt, because if that was the case, you'd be a perfect candidate for practicing their moral codes.  

But you had spent nearly the entire day wallowing and mourning your old life, who you were, and fearing what the setting sun made you. No, showing up the way you were now, covered in blood, was a sure way to send a raging mob after you holding pitchforks and blazing torches. You needed to find shelter, hide out the night, and adequately recuperate. But you had no money, and you'd rather die than return to Lucy's home. 

Was that why she had actually brought you here? The thought made your skin colder than it was, but an even worse thought crossed your mind. Twisting your heart in a brutal, vice-like grip. Did Michael know?

Time seemed to tick past you at that moment, the singing breeze creating a symphony of rustling bushes and leaves. It all moved through you, past you, like you weren't really there. You didn't want to breathe, think, or even consider that thought a possibility. Micheal had always been a lousy liar. Currently, that was the only knowledge you had to ground yourself. You tried to control your breathing, but with your rampaging thoughts and the subtle taste of copper in your mouth, you just couldn't. It wasn't that easy, and looking ahead simply felt too overwhelming for you. So, you took things step-by-step, figuring the first thing you could do was get out of this damned forest. 

So, you began walking straight ahead following the setting sun. The orange hue occasionally broke through the thick foliage of branches and leaves. Cascading delicate beams of light onto the mossy floor, the beauty of the sight calmed you. It felt separate from the rest of the world, like a slight pause for you to soak up before returning to the never-resting society you belonged—or instead, used to belong to. 

You couldn't tell how long you walked or where you were, but you knew you had finally made it when you saw the flash of car lights. The sun had finally died for the day, lessening your headache considerably. You finally made it to a gravel-like road, not having any official pavement but clearly hardened from car tires throughout the years. You watched as the car drove on, hoping to follow it to a more populated area. You let the path guide you. You had to be careful; the course contained so many depressions and holes in the ground you didn't want to accidentally twist your ankle. With your current streak of bad luck, you wouldn't put something so ridiculous above you. The longer you walked, the more you couldn't help but wonder how anyone could travel down this path in a car without getting incredibly motion sick. 

However, when you finally saw a house in the upcoming clearing, you weren't greeted by the gradual introduction of neighborhood streets but instead a large farm. Fields and crops litter the area to your left, while pens are to your right. No doubt about yielding livestock. The area practically reeked of cows in the most unpleasant way imaginable. But you found yourself relieved; a farm like this wouldn't have the toughest surveillance to beat, if any, and you felt safer knowing that. You snuck around, keeping yourself hidden as you watched the farmer exit his truck and enter his home. 

You could see so much clearer if the sun had never really set. You glanced around before you found a wooden barn on the south side of the field, rushing your way over and trying to pry the rusted doors open. It didn't work, at least it wouldn't if you didn't want to rip the door off its hinges. You walked around, seeing a broken window. Small, sharp jagged pieces of glass still stuck out here and there, but you managed to lift yourself through it. Not without a complimentary scratch, a low hiss escaped you as you glanced at your cut arm. Your eyes watched as your blood cried from the cut, and a sick part of you was tempted to lick it clean. 

The barn was clearly too old to still be in use; the only company you had was heaps of hay, creaking wood, and a roof that threatened to collapse onto you any minute. The barn had two stories, although the second story only covered one-half of the first floor, a long unstable ladder leading towards it. You had come so far, and the thought of being above viewpoint was somewhat comforting. So, you carefully climbed up the ladder. Letting out a sigh of relief when you made it, throwing yourself onto a lump of hay in the far corner. You felt hidden, away from anything or anyone. 

"They ought' to be here!" Paul exclaimed, clearly exasperated and exhausted from this situation. They had been looking for you all night, neither of them being able to get an ounce of rest knowing you, their mate, had gone missing in Santa Carla of all places. They had traced your steps the next evening when you failed to show up, following your faint scent into a shady alleyway. To say Marko nearly hyperventilated at the smell and sight of your dried blood was an understatement. They were all beyond worried, sick to the bone. Their only consolation is that you were alive; they would've felt it had your bond died. No, you were still alive, and they couldn't rest until they found you. 

"I smell it too; it's faint. They must've been here; their blood must've dried a while ago." Dwayne hadn't spoken a word since you went missing, only ever speaking up when he needed to. He had to remain calm; in a situation like this, David and the others needed a rock to ground themselves on, and despite the emotional anguish he felt, clawing at his heart to cry out for you senselessly, he remained stoic. 

"Search the area. I don't care if you have to stick your nose in the filthy soil; find where the scent leads." David growled; he felt the worst out of everyone; he felt a horrible, cumbersome chain tying itself around his throat. Guilt. He was the coven leader; his job was to ensure his mates were safe. He was immortal, a god-damned creature of hell, but what was the point of being invincible if he couldn't even protect the people who mattered? He shouldn't have let you go that night; he shouldn't have listened to the others. It was in his instinct to take you with him, to keep you in his sight, safe.

 None of them really conversed much since you disappeared, sure they were all mates, but your absence left them incomplete. If the conversation wasn't about finding you, they didn't have it.  

Micheal was fairing the worst, an undeniable feeling of guilt similar to David's settling on his body. Sure, David was supposed to protect everyone. But ultimately, he was the reason you came to Santa Carla in the first place. Maybe if he had hidden it better, his adjustment to his new life, his mother would've never sent you here to hell city of all places. 

Marko couldn't stay still; he had even tried some of Paul's more vigorous weeds to keep him calm. But he couldn't, rushing from place to place like a frightened cat. Some might mistake this as hyperness, but the boys knew the real reason. Pure, unfiltered anxiety. Like a bunny hopping from place to place, a weasel who can't stay still, Marko found you first. Sleeping in a curled, protective form, body covered in several pieces of hay. But the sight of dried blood over you, not hearing your heartbeat, his world crashed down onto him. 

“Y/N?” His voice was croaked, raw from emotion. The simple word, breathless as it was, caught the attention of everyone. 

Marko kneeled, letting his hand ghost your shoulder and arm before shaking you. Seeing your eyes open, as tired and irritated as they were, brought such relief to him that he could cry. However, Paul was a step ahead of him, being the first to join Marko in fussing over you. 

David, Dwayne, and Micheal followed soon after. Dwayne wasted no time helping you sit up, carefully inspecting your body until letting his eyes land on the cut on your arms, studying it carefully before grabbing the cloth tied around his waist and making a makeshift bandage to prevent dirt from coming into your wounds. 

"What happened to you?" Micheal finally piped up, grabbing your hands and inspecting the dried blood. He only let out his own breath when he realized it wasn't your blood. He pulled you into a tight hug, his hold tight and unrelinquishing as he nuzzled his head into the top of your hair. 

"Stop hogging her!" Paul complained, shoving Micheal off. It wasn't anything too forceful, more like a nudge. When Micheal pulled away to fight with Paul, Marko swooped in and pulled you into his arms. Taking on a similar position to Micheals. "You made us worried." He murmured into your neck, giving you another squeeze to reassure yourself you were there. Safe in his arms again. 

All the boys had been so ecstatic to see you; even David's shoulders dropped as he sighed of pure relief. But he was more analytical than the others; he recognized the lack of your heartbeat. The way blood seemed to cling onto you, he could sense it. Somehow, you had become a vampire. The thought made him cold, even more, frigid than he already was. No, his anger was blazing, but it did not radiate a scalding heat but the opposite. His fury was glacial. 

"Wait outside for us." His authoritative voice commanded, sending silence across the shabby barn. They all send pleading looks toward you before slowly leaving. Dwayne grabbed David's shoulder, reminding him to be gentle with whatever the bleach blonde had planned. When the boys had finally left, you felt your ability to breathe return. You had been so overwhelmed, thousands of thoughts and questions running through you. Why weren't they afraid? You were a bloody mess! You could understand Micheal looking for you, but the others as well? 

Your small moment of relief was quickly replaced with dread as you realized you were alone in a room with a man you couldn't bring yourself to lie to. It was silent, the sound of singing crickets seemingly decorating the night air. It would be relaxing if you didn't hate the oppression its silence came with. Slowly getting up, you winced at the reopening of your cut. 

David slowly walked over, carefully reaching out and cupping your cheeks. He stayed like that momentarily, simply soaking in the sight of you before him. Eventually, his hand traveled lower before pushing down the collar of your shirt, revealing the two puncture wounds that changed your life forever. His eyes flashed yellow, a low, animalistic sound escaping him. 

"Who?" 

"What?" You snapped yourself out of your lost haze, finally meeting David's cold stare. It wasn't directed at you, but you, unfortunately, didn't know that. 

"Who did this to you?" 

The question seemingly transported you. Back into the body of a helpless individual, losing their lives in a dingy alleyway. The fear, the panic, it made you crumble. Your knees went weak as you wobbled back onto the floor. "I—" you struggled, trying to put on a brave face in front of such stern eyes. "I—I didn't know them." 

That answer provided a scowl to erupt across David's features, a feeling of uselessness washing over him. How was he supposed to avenge you if you couldn't give him anything to work off of? He sighed, his mind wanting to push further, but a simple glance at your quivering form prevented him from doing so. "Come on, rosebud, let's get you somewhere safe." He eventually settled on that, watching you stumble before picking you up. If he hadn't pushed you enough tonight, he lifted off the ground to reach the bottom, and promptly, the outside of the barn sent your mind reeling. 

You wanted to run, but the feeling of being in someone's arms. Someone you knew, someone who felt oddly safe to you had you staying. The boys glanced at you two, Dwayne coming over and taking you from David's arms. He saw your weak and drowsy state, his heart clenching at the sight. "She hasn't had enough blood." He started calmly, watching you soullessly rest your head against his chest. "We'll give her some in the cave, then she'll be able to recover someplace safe." Dwayne nodded at David's statement, readjusting you in his arms. The movement prompted you to open your eyes, the smell of his leather jacket oddly settling to you. "Get some rest Y/N; we'll take care of you now. You'll feel better soon," you nodded slowly. Closing your eyes and resigning yourself to whatever the future holds for you now. It couldn't get any worse anyways. 

"Are they still sleeping?" 

An exasperated sigh echoed throughout the cave, Dwayne rolling his eyes before rubbing his temples. "You asked five minutes ago; yes, they're still sleeping!" 

A loud hush followed from David and Micheal, both scolding the two for talking so loudly. Everyone was on edge; you had slept for nearly two days now. And although odd sleeping patterns weren't rare for fledglings, you were a neglected fledgling, which provided them all with many concerns and worries. The birth of a new vampire was often labeled as a fledgling, as in the eyes of vampires, you, and your very unique nature, was akin to that of a baby. Similarly to neglecting babies upon birth, they weren't sure what consequences you'd suffer from upon waking. 

"David, we need to wake them. They need to feed." Micheal chimed in, his need to coddle you almost overbearing. Although the boys had given him a fair share of tough love, they made sure his fledgling stage was a healthy one. He was more moody than ever, but changes like those were common for at least a year after turning. Although David acted the coldest, he had been the most persistent that Micheal was feeding enough and adequately. A complete mother-hen in denial. 

David sighed, getting up from his wheelchair-like throne and making his way over to the bed you and Dwayne were snuggled in. The sight would've warmed his heart if the circumstances would've been different. He walked around before settling down on the edge of the bed closest to you. He gave Dwayne an approving nod, "Wake them; they've rested enough." He whispered, gently stroking your cold cheek before pulling away. His poor rosebud. 

Dwayne gently shook your shoulder, shifting you off of him in order not to scare you when you woke up, watching you slowly stir awake, blinking the fatigue off of your cute expression. 

For you, it has, somehow, gotten worse. 

Waking up, you felt feverish; your body ached similarly to how it had done hours ago. When you had—had killed that bunny. 

Your hand instinctively clutched at your throat, trying to somehow dull the ache. Your hearing was blurred, but you heard distant hushes and orders before fully coming too. Your eyes focused on the concerned figures of David and Dwayne, practically looking over you as Dwayne took your hand away from your throat, hushing your pain-fueled whines. "Shh, it's okay. You're okay." Dwayne's soft but stern voice seemed to stabilize you, but the familiar need left your body twisting and shifting. Every little muscle felt utterly uncomfortable, aching torturously. 

David gently combed his fingers through your hair, trying his best to calm you down. Seeing his mate, his little vampire, in such distress ruined him. "It's okay, rosebud, we're here to help." He hummed, glancing at Dwayne as they silently communicated. They slowly helped you sit up, watching the way your hand unknowingly sharpened its nails. Your body prepares itself for a meal. 

"What's happened?" You stammered, hating the way you were losing control. A deep sense of fear washed over you, draining into your being. "I—David, Dwayne—"You couldn't form a proper sentence, but the words you did manage to say put the two eldest vampires into a protective frenzy. 

Dwayne hushed you, gently rubbing a soothing pattern against your back. David already shrugged off his jacket, shifting his shirt to properly expose his neck to you. He watched with narrowed eyes how your gaze halted against his suddenly exposed skin, watching the small bob of your throat as you swallowed at sight. 

Dwayne gently cupped the back of your head, nudging you towards David. "You're hungry, baby; look at David. He's offering you a meal, sweetheart. You'll feel better once you feed; trust us; we'll take care of you." 

Your unsure gaze flashed between them, that odd feeling once again tugging at you. Your body, more than ever, felt pulled to them; they gave you comfort. A need to be with them, and in a moment of weakness, you thought yourself giving in to them. Letting your body get pulled; once close enough, David snaked his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to practically be sitting in his lap. You inhaled the sweet scent that seemingly surrounded David, making your tense shoulders loosen, your body easing into the comfort that David provided. The bleach blood rubbed your back, trying to soothe you further. "Come on, rosebud, let those instincts take over." 

The two could tell you weren't going to take a bite on your own, your mind and body too perplexed to accept the reality of your situation. Dwayne reached over, letting one of his fingernails extend into a claw-like shape and making a small slash at David's neck, letting his crimson blood trickle from the wound. 

As if the smell and sight triggered your buried instincts, you latched onto David's neck. Your fangs pierce the skin with a painful clumsiness typical for a fledgling. But the sound of your eager gulps had both of the vampires relaxing, Dwayne gently moving your hair to one side as David held you close. "That's it, good job." The blonde praised, keeping a firm but caring grip on the back of your head, not letting you go until you had a full feeding. The praise, the touch, and the comfort from both of them allow you to fully relax. Letting out small sighs of relief as you drank greedily, gulping down the sweet crimson from David. Letting his blood calm every screaming nerve inside you, replacing the dull ache with a welcomed high. "Good job, sweetheart; see how good it feels to feed?" Dwayne's voice cooed gently into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. 

It took a while before you unlatched from David, his blood messily spread and smeared across your mouth. The sight nearly made Dwayne coo at your adorable form, your eyes a little glassy from feeling so overwhelmed. David, on the other hand, felt overly satisfied, watching your relaxed state of a post-feed high, gently nudging you to lay back down. 

"What a messy little fledgling you are." He teased softly, chuckling as he watched your eyes droop. Now that your needs have been met, you feel an unexplainable tiredness, the suddenness of your exhaustion setting your nerves off once more. Before you could push yourself up again, Dwayne guided you back down. Covering you in a blanket, "Sleep baby, it's normal to feel tired after such a big meal." 

You nodded, at that moment, not overthinking. "We'll be here when you wake up; rest now, rosebud." You heard David's voice whisper, the two vampires watching you drift off into a peaceful slumber. 

Once they were sure you were fully asleep, they slowly crawled out of the bed. Greeting the upset-looking vampires in the main hall, all angry about being benched by the oldest. "Why did you get to feed her?" Marko cursed, casting an irritated glare toward David, who sat back down with smugness. Flashing your sloppy bite mark off to the others with pride. "Because I'm the oldest and our coven leader Marko." He explained calmly, reveling in the jealousy of others. 

Paul groaned, having laid himself back up on the couch. His head was hidden in one of the cushions. "They probably looked so cute.." Dwayne smiled, your hesitance and gradual acceptance being awfully adorable in his eyes. "They sure was." He mused, making both Marko and Paul groan. 

Micheal sighed, a part of him just glad you ate. But he feared for what you'd be like after waking up from your nap, with a clear head this time. Would you hate him? Indeed you couldn't accept this life so quickly; among all of them, he was the only one who didn't see this feeding as acceptance. He knew you still had a lot of things to say, and none of the boys were ready to hear it. 

When you woke up again, your body felt better, stronger, and more rejuvenated. You couldn't really remember what happened when you woke up the first time, only having a hazy memory of David and Dwayne being by your side. You sat up, looking around you and the bed you were In. The sheer curtains around the bed didn't let you see anything besides silhouettes around the cave, prompting you to get up and shift out of bed. 

You glanced around, analyzing your surroundings. When did you get inside a cave? You could hear distant chatter, following the sound until you entered the central part of the cave. A decrepit fountain in the center of it all, your steps echoing across the stone floors. 

"You're awake!" Paul perked up as he turned around at the sound of footsteps, grinning as he saw you. He waved you over, watching your confused stare before finally making your way around and sitting down on the couch beside him. The couch cushions were soft and overused, letting you practically sink into the pillow-like cushion. 

"How do you feel?" He asked, his eyes carrying the familiar blown-out expression you were used to. "Right now? I'm surprisingly fine." Paul grinned at the answer, taking a quick drag of his joint before moving closer. "Now that's all I ever want to hear, baby." 

"Piss off, you crack-head!" Micheal hissed, shoving Paul's face away from yours. You jumped at the sudden intrusion, standing up from the couch. "Micheal, we need to talk." You said sternly, ignoring the way Paul cackled behind you two. 

The brunette nodded, walking back over to the bed the boys had set up for you. If David returned from his hunt early with Dwayne, the two overprotective vampires would roast him alive if they found out he had taken you out of their nest. He slid the curtains closed, trying to regain a semblance of privacy for you. "Okay," he murmured, crossing his legs as you two settled on the bed. "Hit me with it." 

You sighed, initially wanting to leave wherever the hell you were. But you didn't seem to have the strength to settle back on the bed, sitting criss-cross and fiddling with the hem of your shirt. "What the hell has been going on? I mean—what am I? What are you?" Questions kept escaping you like a bunch of word vomit, making Micheal hold up his hands to try and silence you. 

"Slow down," he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. He didn't want to hurt you with this information, but he knew it was a hard pill to swallow. 

"Firstly, you're a vampire. We're not sure from who, but someone had turned you. The act is done by being bitten and then promptly consuming the other's blood." 

As if the world didn't feel like it was falling down onto your shoulders, the cumbersome weight of your malicious reality certainly did wonders in keeping you in a constant state of disparity. You didn't want to believe Micheal, but you knew better than to sit in a puddle of denial. It wouldn't change a thing; you'd just drag out the pain longer. Before you could properly grieve your past life, the two devil twins came barging into your space. Jumping onto the mattress, making all of you bounce into the air before landing not so gracefully against the mattress. 

"Jesus Christ, you two! Will you chill out? This ain't exactly easy for her to take in." Micheal argued, sitting back up with an irritated stare. But there was nothing much his words could do as the two blondes surrounded you. 

"Cheer up, sugar! Being a vampire ain't all that bad; we can do some pretty cool things too!" Marko cheered, his energy quickly matched by Paul as they tried to cheer you up. They couldn't stand the sight of you sulking, no one in the cave could, but everyone was so preoccupied with your situation that even the century-old immortals didn't know what to do. 

But you still couldn't get over the fact that you now had to kill people; what had happened to you filled you with such rage that you didn't know what to do with yourself. You had been wronged, and every fiber of your miserable being wanted to rip whoever did this to you apart by the seams. "Mhm, sounds great, Marko." You murmured into the crook of your arm, not really paying attention as you sat curled up on the bed. 

Both Marko and Paul glanced at each other at your dull response, Paul's expression contorting to one of worry. He wasn't the best at comforting you, especially since he had wanted his turning, and although the thought of someone else harming you made his blood boil; in secret, a deeply-hidden part of him was glad. Now you were like them and could live together for the rest of your immortal lives. The two glanced at each other before nodding, bouncing off the cave and hiding behind the sheer curtains. 

You hadn't even noticed them leaving, or at least you didn't acknowledge it. But the sound of subtle little squeaks had you lifting your head, letting out a small gasp of your own as you were bombarded by two blonde bats. One had fluffy blonde hair, while the other's fur appeared more curly, no doubt being reminiscent of the two blonde bikers. "Paul—Marko?" You called out, getting little chirps back in return. Paul flew around you a couple of times before landing on your head, making a mess of your hair. Marko didn't sit still, flying around you, giving you a slight nip here and there to keep you on edge as you laughed. 

"I didn't know you could turn into bats!" You laughed, for a moment finding paece in the distraction the two provided. The sound of your small laughter provided the cave with an unseeable light, but all of them could feel it. Paul and Marko flopped back into their human form, grabbing your arm and hoisting you off of the bed. "Come on, darlin', you can do it too!" Paul cheered, Marko, nodding eagerly as the two distracted you. 

Dwayne put the bag of clothes he had gotten for you in his hand down, letting his feet drop to the floor with David's. He let out a sigh, getting up and walking over to the two terror twins. "So she can fall onto the cave floor?" He asked, his disapproval clear in his authoritative tone. 

"Lighten up, Dwayne! So you fall a little; what's so wrong with that? It's all part of the fun." Marko argued, mentally challenging Dwayne. Everyone knew their intention was to distract you, and although Dwayne couldn't stand the sight of you sulking, he wouldn't put you in danger, either. He prefers you brooding then having to you see your body black and blue from screaming bruises. 

"You call falling on your ass fun?" Micheal chummed in, letting his body rest against the headboard of the bed, dramatically rubbing his butt to lighten the mood. 

"Not everyone is as bad as you are when it comes to flying, Mikey," Paul argued, rolling his eyes. 

"She shouldn't transform until she's had a proper meal." The authoritative voice of David chimes in, effectively ruining your mood. You wanted to stand up and argue with the blonde, to stomp your foot into the ground and demand he stops commanding you. But you were out of your element here; even if you wanted to be stubborn, you're just hurting yourself. "I am not killing anyone, David." 

You watched his cold eyes narrow at you, wanting to watch you waiver, but seeing the resilient look on your face made him sigh. He pulled out a cigarette in a desperate attempt to calm his nerves. His little mate was denying themselves proper health, and although he might act uncaring, it was worrying him sick. The boys had agreed to give you some time to adjust, but as the coven leader, it was his job to assure the health and safety of all his members. Especially you. 

"Don't worry about it; you can still drink from us whenever you feel hungry." Micheal hummed, his tone gentle and reassuring as he rested his hand on your shoulder. Gently rubbing the tense muscle as you settled back into your seat. You nodded, cringing subtly at the idea before deciding to drop it. 

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Paul's sultry voice echoed in your ear, making your hands twitch with an unfamiliar itch. Excitement spreads through you, filling you with a sense of adrenaline. You slowly realized what position you were actually in, Paul lying underneath you, your hips straddling his as he rested his hand on your thigh. In your roughness, his jacket seemed to half slide down his shoulders, now resting against the crevice of his elbows. His mesh-like top left little to the imagination, his pale chest on display for your hungry eyes. He looked delicious. 

As if Paul could tell he was losing your attention, he rutted his hips against your aching nerves. Letting out a shaky sigh, his signature crooked grin spreading across his features as he watched you suck in a breath. "Eyes on me baby, just feel with me, yeah?" Despite neither of you needing air, he sounded practically breathless; but you also felt breathless. Your post-drinking haze left your body so sensitive, every little spark of friction igniting a new addiction deep within you. You two felt like pure sin. 

You have been in the cave for about two weeks now. Letting yourself feed regularly off of the vampires you were staying with, none of you liked to address the elephant in the room that was your turning. The mate bond between you all had strengthened, leading you all to be closer than before throughout this time. Even David acted softer around you. But something you weren't prepared for was the many feelings associated with feeding, more specifically the lust. 

In all your rampant thoughts, you failed to see Marko pull the sheer curtain back, his eyes lighting mischievously at the display. He tugged off his boots, slowly sneaking over to you; your back still turned to him. He watched silently before slowly pushing himself against you. His chest against your back, the smell of the forest and fresh blood sticking to his skin. You moaned at the smell, letting the back of your head rest against his shoulder. As if sensing your uncertainty about actually indulging yourself, Marko slowly let his delicate hands trail towards your hips. Slowly, he guided yours to grind against Paul's aching bulge. 

You let out a shaky breath, one that came out shaky and chopped as you let your body tingle at the feeling. Although it felt good at that very moment, it only fueled your need. Your hand gripped Markos, a weak attempt at stopping him from tempting you. 

"Ah ah, let me darlin'." He mused, his tone so coy you could practically hear his smugness. He continued rocking your hips, one of the hands holding your hips gradually moving upwards sensually before ending at your chin. Cupping the skin in a firm grip, he slowly removed your head hiding in the crook of his neck and titled it towards the debauched sight of a panting Paul. His bottom lip was caught in between his lips, and one of his eyes squeezed shut as his chest heaved up and down in a complete state of breathlessness.

 "Look at him, all messy for you." He pointed out, moving your hips to push particularly roughly against Paul, making both of you moan at the friction. Unlike Dwayne and Michael, Marko and Paul didn't want to comfort you in the sense that this situation was terrible, but instead accept what you now were. How good it could feel, what it was like to have the freedom to explore every ounce of your most concealed secrets. 

"Lesson one of being a vampire," Marko mused, removing his hold on you. The two changed positions with you. Paul now leaning his back against the headboard, legs spread with you in between them, your back pressed against his chest. His hand trailed around your waist, teasing your shirt before slipping underneath. His fingers now torment your searing skin, which in reality was just as freezing as the two blondes was. Marko nudged your legs open, laying on his front so his head rested conveniently between your thighs. He guided them open, caressing your skin soothingly.

"Feeding is often accompanied by an insatiable–" Marko purred, kissing up the length of your thigh. "And nearly irresistible," He continued but was cut off by Paul, who had begun massaging your sides; "hunger," Paul finished. 

"So why don't you lean back and let us care for ya'?" Paul mused, practically whispering the phrase into your ear. In a similar fashion, you would've imagined the snake talking Eve into biting into the apple, Paul and Marko were the current embodiment of Lucifer for you, and this time you weren't in the mood to repent. No, you'd welcome the flames of hell eagerly, the masochist inside you hoping to feel the sting of its flames. With a nod of your head, a messy high clouding you with need, you officially sold your soul to the two devils holding you. 

Marko grinned, his lips trailing kisses up your thigh, inching closer to where you needed him to be. They were teasing you, your needy eyes watching Marko kiss over your most needy spot, his teeth nipping the top of your pants, one of his fangs sticking out from the fabric. He looked up, his darkened gaze connected with yours as he patiently pulled your undergarments down. 

As if in a desperate attempt not to lose your attention, Paul nipped at your neck. The sudden action sends a small jolt of electricity through you, pulling a soft mewl from you. Marko cooed at the noise while Paul chuckled, both clearly amused by your current state. They knew how hormonal fledglings could be, like animals in heat; Micheal was no different.

They had helped him out too, and they were most eager to provide their services now as well. 

No matter how hard they tried, how often they showed you the normality in their ways. You couldn't wrap your head around it, that nagging resistance keeping you awake. You couldn't enter this life without committing yourself to a final attempt at regaining your old one. So, when the others went out to eat after feeding you. You left, setting out for your last, and final attempt at regaining your old humanity.

The leaves rustled with a strange ferocity as you pushed your way through the untraveled path. You didn't want to accept what you were; there needed to be an alternative. You didn't want to admit it, so when the daunting forest around your figure cleared, you saw the back of the church. You wanted to believe in that hope, that perhaps all these values preached and thrown down your throat had a purpose. 

The forest was at the back of the church, revealing a small garden enclosed by a white picket fence. You hopped it, letting your bloody hands stain the purity of its color permanently. You rushed towards the back door, balling your first and desperately pounding in the creaky wooden door. You quickly shifted your focus, trying to open the door and jiggling the handle. "Please! Someone—anyone, please!" 

Not hearing an answer, you stumbled back. Your tears make you choke on your own sorrow, rushing around toward the front of the building. "Please, Father! Anyone, please!" You begged, continuing to slam your hand against the door. It wasn't until it opened that you stood stunned, chest heaving, hands stained, and body soaked. You wailed in front of this man's sanctuary. Begging entry. 

The man appeared elderly, with white and gray hair dominating the little hair he still had left on his head. His black cassock made his position as a priest clear, but you didn't dare move. You felt the need to be invited in. 

"Goodness! Child, come, come inside." He ushered you into the old building; there were candles lighting the area, casting everything in a warm glow. You stepped inside, unable to stop your shaking, until the man covered you in a blanket. He was probably trying to provide your frigid body with warmth. "What happened to you?" 

"Father, please, you need to help me. I need help—please, I need aid." You stammered, letting him guide you into a back room away from the main hall. He listened to you, his brows and face contorted in worry. "Calm down; you are safe now." 

The room seemed less decorated but more elaborate than you would've thought it would be in the church, but you didn't say much as you sat down in the empty chair across the old desk. This must've been some sort of office. The priest stared for a moment, his gaze lingering on your stained hands before shuffling around the desk. His shoes thumped across the red carpet covering half of the dark oak floors. He sat down, letting his hands intertwine, and he rested them folded on the edge of the desk. "So, my child, what brings you here? What has brought you to my doors in such distress?" 

You needed a moment to collect yourself for that question. What hadn't happened to you in the last week? Every horror imaginable seemed to be flowing through your life at the moment. A part of you wanted to lie, but you knew that hiding the true nature of your case would prevent you from getting any practical help. This was necessary. Clearing your throat, you slowly gather your perseverance to continue. 

"Father, you must believe what I have to say. I am new to Santa Carla, but in my stay, I've encountered death and despair more than in any other place." You started, your voice shook and a clear representation of what you were feeling, utterly distraught. The man nodded, seemingly focused on you as he urged you to continue. "But what I originally thought were simple gangsters, feuds, and typical street violence became much darker. Vampires, Father, Vampires reside in this town, and I've found myself to be one of them." 

You were desperate; frantic eyes watched the man inhale and lean back in his chair. He thought deeply, or at least the look of concentration was deeply etched into the creases of his face. He sighed, uncrossing his hand and gently reaching out to rest a comforting hand on top of yours. 

"My child, I've read the bible well. The true structure of this world and how it came to be, the only time vampires were ever named—or mentioned. Alukah only ever being mentioned in Sefer Chasidim, where the creature is understood to be a living human being but can shape-change into a wolf. Alukah can also roughly be translated to "blood-lusting monster" or, in your case, a vampire." 

He had a calm tone, deep and raspy, but it seemed to have an oddly chiding tone. He moved away, leaning fully back now against his chair as he chuckled. "But my dear, I assure you that these are old tales; such demons do not exist among us anymore." 

His words were like a splash of cold water to the face, a deep, unsettling reality overcoming you. You sounded crazy; of course, no one would believe you. "But Father!" He held his hand up to silence you, shaking his head in a disapproving manner. "You can lie to me, but you cannot fool the Lord." 

Anger seemed to replace your sorrow, standing up abruptly, the stool you were previously resting in falling to the floor with a loud clunk. "I am not lying!" You screeched, your face unknowingly morphing into one similar to the boys. Angled features, sharp bones, and burning yellow eyes. The man stumbled back, stammering as he took in the demonic sight that was you. His hand unknowingly grabbed onto his cross, moving out of his chair. 

"I need your help Father; I have not consumed human blood yet! There needs to be a way to fix this!" Once again, you were pleading. A part of you was growing sick of it; how could a man detest your current nature but refuse to help you revert back to your "purer" self at the same time? It was hypocritical. 

The hand holding the pectoral cross shook with a small tremor, breath equally as rough when it escaped his shaken form. His free hand covered his mouth, either trying to hide his labored breathing or trying to regain composure. You weren't quite sure. The silence in the room now was unsettling, threatening even—leaving you on edge. Finally, the old man's hoarse voice cut through the air as he removed the pale hand from his mouth. He waved it toward him as he walked over before passing you and opening the door. Standing beside the frame as he beckoned you to follow. 

"Come come, my child. We must act quickly; you have the devil inside you. With every moment we waste, it'll grow stronger." You nodded, cringing at his choice of words before slowly following him. You would've argued at the choice of words but didn't seem to have the energy to do so. You followed as he led you through the church, leading you towards the back door you had previously banged on. He opened it, leading you towards the backyard. To the left, there was a small gravely path that shortly led to a wooden shed. Wood rot was apparent when you looked at the dying boards that made up the shed's walls. 

He unlocked the shed with his key; the loud cling of chains dropping was quickly followed by the squeak of old hinges being forced to move again as he opened the door. It was an average shed if it didn't have a hidden doorway behind a shabby bookshelf. The old man pushed the shelf to the left, revealing a mossy, dirty stairway further down in what you assume to be a basement. 

As if the priest could see your confusion, he began to say, "This church used to perform a multitude of exorcisms. We used to do it in the old church, but people began associating it too much with demons, so we renovated the old shack basement to do the job. That was a while ago," He mumbled, walking down the steps and revealing an equally run-down setup. There was a bed, shabby with a mattress stained with yellow and brown. The bed frame seemed to be made of rusted metal, not undoubtedly a cheap purchase at the time. Restrains we're hanging from each end of the bed. 

Every fiber of your being was begging you not to lay on that mattress, but your own desperation convinced you. It convinced you to lie down and let that man tie you up; it made you trust him to cure you. 

"So what will you do?" 

"What I need too." 

His gruff voice echoed through the room; he had tied something loosely around your eyes. Explaining that it was all part of the process. You heard him open on an old shelf, the sound of clinking wood making you uneasy. Your instincts screamed at you, but you weren't sure for what. You didn't understand yourself anymore, and the frustration coursing through you nearly brought you to tears. You just wanted all of this to be over, to understand yourself once again. 

"And what would that be?" You edged further, feeling like something was wrong. 

"What I was born to do." 

His voice grew darker, lowering an octave or two, making you shift. The blindfold slid at your defiance, sliding off of one of your eyes. Snapping them open, you took in a sight you'd surely never forget. There, a man swore to do no harm and held a wooden spike in his shaky hand. The other clutching his cross to his heart while whispering mantras. He didn't even hesitate as he saw your yellow eyes open before he slashed forward, putting his full force into the throw of the stake. 

Perhaps it was instinct, or perhaps it was simply foolish for the man to believe leather binds would chain you. But in a moment of adrenaline, you pushed your body away from the mattress, your wrists and ankles suffering a burn from the sudden action as you snapped yourself away from your murder. Watching the way his sheer force stabbed the stake through the mattress, your eyes lingering on sight. 

That blow was meant to kill you. 

"You fucking bastard!" You growled, a distorted tone to your voice as you took a step towards him. But with your lack of control, your hand was around the man's throat with his old back smashed against one of the walls. 

"I trusted you! What kind of priest are you? You are meant to aid, protect, and serve. I am still one of God's creations! You taint your very purpose in this life with your actions!" The hand around his neck tightened, your claws unwilling to draw blood. Your eyes zeroed in on the sinful liquid, the smell so much more intense than of any of the boys.

The boys. 

David was right; they were right. There was no turning back for you. 

"You will never—be one of God's—creations." 

Those were his last words before you ripped his throat out with your teeth. Dismembering the man's jugular, drinking away the last of your crumbling humanity. There was an irony in it that the remains of your dying humanity weren't taken from the vampires you now lived with but by a human themselves. 

The man fell to the floor, eyes a haunting color. They were cloudy; you couldn't describe the sight of his pale skin mimicking the shade of yours. 

You wailed, grieving everything you were as you sat hunched on the floor. Covered in the blood of the man who tried, and in some way—killed you. 

You weren't sure how long you sat there, frozen, until the boys came. A hand gently shaking your shoulder, making you jump, meeting the eyes of a saddened Paul. "Oh, darlin'.." He whispered, watching you stammer, desperate to explain. But he simply picked you up, bridal-style, and led you out where the rest of the boys stood. 

Marko walked over, letting Paul set you on the ground before the curly-haired vampire pulled you into a tight hug. A hug which all of the boys joined, their hearts breaking at the sound of your sobs. "It's okay, it'll be okay," Marko whispered, holding you close. 

"Come on, let's take you home." David sighed after a moment. His voice drowned out in the hauntingly silent night. 

That evening was the second and final marking of your death. The first takes place in an alleyway by a vampire, and the job is finished by a human. You struggled after that night; you barely ate or talked. You felt awful, your thoughts not abandoning you or your guilt. You were a murderer. 

That all had taken place a few days ago, your body now sat on the roof along the boardwalk. It was a motel, two stories high, so you found a semblance of privacy on top of the concrete roof. You sat on the thick stone wall of a fence, letting your legs dangle over the edge. 

"I'll never forget the day I made my first victim." Micheals voice cut through the distant booming of chatter and joy taking place below you by the adolescent and naive party-goers on the boardwalk. 

"It was April 6th, at about 12:06. I lost my life forever." He went on, walking closer towards you. Stopping beside you and leaning on the fence with his forearms. His gaze lingered on the glowing boardwalk, casting everything surrounding it in a golden orange. 

"So we're all murderers.." You murmured, eyes not meeting him, but you knew he was now looking at you. Your tone was cold and distant. 

"He was a child molester." Micheal spat, standing up and gently moving you so you looked at him. "We don't have to be monsters, Y/N; we don't have to kill the good. I chose to take the evil from this world, and you can too." 

You nodded weakly, not in the mood to argue. You let a frail smile tug on your lips, nodding to his words as you let him wrap an arm around your shoulder and squeeze you close before slowly leaving. Giving you space. Once again, you were surrounded by silence. Nothing but the blurred screams from ride-goers, drunks laughing and prancing around on the ground beneath you.  

"He's wrong." That crystal clear voice, his tone stern and unwavering even if David tried to sound gentle. But his words felt icy like a cold bucket of water was poured over you. Sinking into the skin, leaving goosebumps to ravage your already frigid body. When Micheals words provided comfort, as if holding your wounded heart in his hands, David seemed to drop it instead. 

"What?" 

He walked over, the sound of his boots tapping against the concrete. You didn't necessarily look at him, but you noticed he settled beside you. His body bent forward, forearms resting against the wall-like railing on the rooftop. You both stood there in silence, watching the stars glitter across the ocean's surface. The silent, cruel breeze drifts through your hair and body. Seagulls cried, and boardwalk goers partied, but you felt so far away from it all. It made you question the finality of your death and where it had really occurred. Did you die in that alleyway or when you let go of your remaining humanity? You were sure a part of you must die in order to take a life; death is inevitable for either party. There is no such thing as only one dying; the other might live but never completely. Your humanity had died along with that priest. 

"You are a monster." David's voice was stern, clear, and factual. Your gaze turned to him finally, seeing the way he stared so longingly out at the sea before turning to you. 

"What the fuck David?" You snapped, feeling like this was not the time for him to throw his own values onto you. You had killed someone, taken a life, and instead of trying to bring you any consultation, he insulted you? 

"Don't you think I feel shitty enough? Fuck this, I know, okay? I know you don't need to stand here and rub it in my face!" Why had you expected anything else from the blonde, you couldn't lie to David, and he had neither lied to you. He was, on many occasions, the truth. 

"You are a monster, Y/N. You will never die; you will never age." He hummed, ignoring your outburst as he took out a cigarette and lit it. He held it up to his lips, taking a long drag, dropping his hand against the railing before blowing out the smoke. "But you must feed." There was a finality in his town that made you suffer as if you were the only one who noticed the morbid aberration of your circumstances. But how were you supposed to explain your regret about eating a sheep to a hungry pack of wolves? 

"What if I don't want to?" You asked, voice hoarse from the raw emotions you felt. You wanted to smack him, berate him to find another time to torment you. 

"You'll kill someone you actually like." He whispered an answer that took you off guard. Eyes trailing back to him, you noticed that haze. A similar one to what Michael used to wear whenever he encountered an old memory. Yes, David seemed to be dancing in his past. 

"But make no mistake, Y/N. You are a monster. A filthy abomination that feeds off the weak, the defenseless." He focused his cold gaze on you, "You will fall apart the day you realize just how much you enjoy it. The screams, the suffering, the pain. It will be the only consistent factor in your life. And when you look around and see the constant deterioration of mankind. You will turn and see us." He took another drag of his cigarette before dropping it, suffocating its flame with his boot. "We are monsters too, Y/N." 

"I will never let you forget it. I will tell you every day before you rest and when you awake." There was an odd gentleness to his tone, one that made you look up at him once more. Although you could hardly bear to keep eye contact with the man. 

"Why?" You had a thousand questions running wild throughout your head, an intimidating rampage and riot pushing through, begging millions of questions to be answered. They stuck in your throat like a lump, a noose around your vocals, keeping you silent. Finally, you managed to settle on that one word. Why? 

"Do you think a lion thinks of itself as a monster when it eats a gazelle?" 

"We aren't animals, David–"

"But aren't we? We're all just mammals trying to get by. A lion doesn't feel guilty for killing because that's what a lion simply does. They need to in order to survive." His eyes seemed to burn into you, a desperate sense of vulnerability taking hold of his features. It seemed David wanted to spare you from your own feelings, to clear the path you were going on, no doubt one he had walked before. 

"But what if we asked the gazelle what they thought of the lion. When a meal would mean losing a brother or sister, mother or father, the gazelle would see the lion as a monster too." 

A heavy wind blew through your hair, reminding you of the night air. Whispering about the daytime and how you would never be able to see it again. Feel its warmth kiss your skin, see its joyful birth across the horizon. The wind mocked you, and the night sky never felt so empty before.

"So?" You asked, wanting a conclusion to this lesson. A small chuckle parted from David, the blonde finding your impatience amusing. 

"The term monster is subjectable. It depends on who you ask, rosebud. To them," He gestured to the late-night party-goers. "You will always and forever be a monster." But before you could frown, even dare settle on that phrase for too long. He turned to you, taking your hand and squeezing it. As if you'd let go, leaving him alone. "But to us, you are everything."

"I'll call you a monster until the word doesn't sting anymore." 

He whispered, cupping your cheek. You noted the lack of his gloves, for the first time touching his bare skin. He leaned closer, kissing the top of your forehead lovingly. It was an embrace in some way, a sweet and gentle promise. That no matter what you become, he'd love you. 

"We'll be down at the boardwalk if you want to join us; you can't stay sulking forever, rosebud.." He whispered, leaving you alone to think once more. 

When you did make your way down the sandy docks, feeling grain against your shoe as you walked with a sunken head. You wondered how your life had changed so drastically since you came to Santa Carla, whether everything was for better or worse. 

"Hey, Darlin!"

The booming voice of a happy Paul called to you, making you look up. Before you stood your gang of boys leaning against the wooden railing of the boardwalk pier. Their bikes were parked beside them, all smiling as they looked at you. There was fondness in their eyes you could describe, but as you walked over and were encircled by your boys. All equally ecstatic to see you—you felt less alone. Welcomed even. You still had a long way to go, but for once in a long while, did you feel alright. Perhaps, becoming a vampire wasn't the worst thing that's ever happened to you. 

#the lost boys 1987 #poly lost boys x reader #tlb #the lost boys marko #the lost boys david #the lost boys dwayne #tlb x reader #tlb paul #tlb david #tlb marko #tlb dwayne #dwayne tlb #paul tlb #marko tlb #david tlb #laddie tlb #star tlb #the lost boys star #the lost boys x reader #the lost boys #tlb fanfic #tlb x you #tlb headcanons #tlb imagine #the lost boys paul #the lost boys michael #tlb michael #michael x reader

[lopposting]

guys.

I think I did it.

I think I cracked Lies of P.

(me rn)

i keep going back and forth on carlo's death.

i know i was adamant before, on him dying from the petrification disease. i think logically he would have to have had it because of ergo.

but here's another weird point about his death,

i just realized why we intrinsically think he was killed.

Carlo is wearing his school uniform when his stalker finds him, and on the floor at that. That's quite odd. Maybe not being on the floor, but the uniform. Why the uniform?

"He didn't even come to your graduation?"

For the son of an aristocratic family, would this be the image of a deathly ill son in care? Did Geppetto know? Wouldn't he be in palliative care, as Lady Antonia could afford?

Why wear the uniform after graduating?

"Oh, she's here! Grab her!"

"...Gemini, get rid of them! I'm off!"

Was his death literally right after his graduation, on the same day?

And also, Gemini is a little lamp guy. (She doesn't look to be carrying the lamp.) Why does she tell him to take care of the boys? What can he even do? Tell them off?

Here's another funny thing... We NEVER see Carlo outside of his school uniform. (at least, in the "past", "real" Carlo time line).

And as we know, the school uniform has a prominent Sailor collar, the type that is associated with nautical outfits [down to the three stripes, supposedly called a "naval collar"]. The Graduation pendant that he gives to Romeo is of an anchor. [I know that these are all artifacts of the charity house. but they are nonetheless associated in tangent with Carlo]

When we find Carlo's painting, it's right next to this one of a ship. [also, two bottles on the counter, perhaps representing the "two lives" of Carlo and Pino]

also... when Carlo's memories materialize... it's in the sand. Only on the seaside.

Remember, Romeo seems to be associated with a fire element, and Pino with water, the same seems to go with Carlo. The original novel of Pinocchio itself seems to have a strange fixation on the ocean.

And now, might I present to you:

The DLC images are also of a ship and some kind of water turbine.

Director Choi (in pre-release interview): "I'll put it this way: there are more stories I want to tell in Lies of P, so I hope [it] does well."

Also: "There sure are stories we could not introduce in the game" (talking about the story being adapted into another form)

[basically, that there was more to the story than what was really present in the final game.] I'll leave all this to your consideration without adding my own just yet. (I'll add it in a reblog on my own blog without tagging it) Just kidding I want to keep wasting everyone's time

Perhaps after the events of the game,

This is some sort of effort by Pino to either learn more about the deceased Carlo or try to remember his "previous life" as Carlo, by taking to the sea.

Maybe even after the game, Pino will STILL attempt to "awaken" as him so to speak [:(].

[Maybe he actually will.]

Again, Carlo is strongly associated with nautical elements. Again, he is never seen outside of a sailor suit, basically. Also, when we gain the memories of Carlo, they materialize on the sand, at the seaside. Remember, he DIED in the sailor outfit

Maybe we are to take the "sand memories" more "literally" as they are in the sand?

Did Carlo drown and his body wash ashore, which is why these memories materialize in the sand? Why is he so associated with ships?

Pino is also depicted in the water, remember, including what looks to be concept art that was used for the OST? Maybe it isn't "just" a motif? [even simple things like his "official" coat and his eyes being blue, blue blood's tailcoat, and him being associated with the colour blue in general]

Which is why Pino is pictured in the water, since he was "born" from Carlo's death... He was birthed in the water the same way Carlo died in it?

[more notes in reblog]

#lies of p #liesofp #lop #speculation #theory #lies of p spoilers #spoilers #pinocchio #oh my love don't forsake me #take what the water gave me #FINAL NOTE: When “Carlo” appears in the real boy ending #it's raining. #I HAVE EVEN MORE THOUGHTS I HAVE EVEN MORE THOUGHTS BEAR WITH ME HERE #REMEMBER WHEN THE DIRECTOR CALLED THE STORY A PUZZLE? #more notes in reblog #long #tw drowning #carlo #lies of p carlo #dlc speculation

[atthebell]

do people understand that your reblog tags on a post do not impact whether or not a post goes into the main tag. like it does not matter how many times people in my notes tag a post of mine with "qsmp" or whatever the tag is, it's not going into that main tag; that's not how browsing tags work. the ONLY way a post goes into a browsible tag is by OP putting the tags on the original post.

relatedly, do people understand that tag blocking functions the opposite way-- if someone tags "discourse" on a post at any time, it is immediately blocked for anyone who has "discourse" on their filtered tags list. does not matter what op tagged, does not matter who puts it on your dash from that point forward, the tag is on the post so it's going to be filtered. this is how i end up not seeing a lot of those big "tag a piece of media that--" posts; it's because i have a lot of things blocked, so anytime a single person tags any of them on a post, i have the whole post blocked. [and i use xkit rewritten, which means i don't even see the post at all]

also related-- there is a difference between actually browsing a tag and searching a phrase-- tumblr has made it kind of strange to tell the exact difference, so i'll demonstrate:

so when i type in "qsmp fanart", it gives me a couple of options.

first, i can click "Go to #qsmp fanart", which will take me to the tag "qsmp fanart":

rad, exactly what i'm looking for, i'll scroll through latest to see what people have posted in the last couple hours.

however, secondly, it gives me the option "[search] qsmp fanart", which is NOT the same thing as opening the tag itself. it will open the search function and look up "qsmp fanart," meaning it grabs whatever assortment of posts tumblr's broken search engine has decided mention "qsmp fanart":

[most of said posts are, in fact, qsmp fanart, as the way tumblr's search indexing works does include searching tags, but it also searches post content. i'm censoring because posting screenshots of people's art feels iffy to me, not because i have any issue with the art itself.]

these two things are NOT the same. one of these takes you do the actual tag, the other makes you search for those terms mentioned on a post. which, like i said, means it indexes not just the tags but the post content itself-- this means any mention of said search term on a post means it could be seen in this search (unless OP has their blog marked unsearchable). for a while, as well, tumblr made this the default whenever you pressed enter rather than manually clicking an option, meaning people would think they were opening the tag to browse it but instead were searching for whatever they entered. i believe they've fixed that now, or at least one of my extensions has; regardless, clicking the # option will get you to the right place.

this is, in part, how i think we get people going "you put neg in the main tag!!!" which, while it does happen often, is not always the issue; what actually happened is tumblr actually had them search for the term mentioned in the tag rather than going into the tag itself. regardless of this issue, though, i think it's just good for people to understand the difference between when they're searching posts (not very helpful at times, doesn't get you much of what you're probably looking for depending on the search term, drags up every single post (that tumblr can actually index properly) that mentions the term) versus when they're opening the tag (OPs here clearly actually want you to see their posts).

#bell.txt #hellsite onboarding #<- since that's where i put all my tumblr explanation stuff #put way too much effort into this but i keep seeing people confused about how tags work

[breelandwalker]

@sonnabug reblogged your post:

#is myth the right word if they were the ones who felt they were being persecuted? #not siding with them just wondering about word choice and technicalities #because its true our history was founded on what they decided to tell us but is it an outright lie or did they truely feel persecuted

Oo oo oo, a teaching opportunity!

Okay, so the Puritans came to power during the First English Civil War - the one where they axed Charles I afterward and abolished the monarchy. Their whole beef was that the new Anglican church wasn't STRICT enough and still had too many Catholic trappings (and way too much tolerance for the remaining Roman Catholics in the country). So they kept pushing for Purity and Piety, in personal and business spheres, basically insisting that a strict Protestant moral doctrine should govern every aspect of life, from the management of the home to the running of businesses to interpersonal relationships to the governing of the country and its' policies abroad.

Sound familiar? Their whole rhetoric puts me in mind of a particular line from Elvira: Mistress of the Dark: "The local council is horrified if someone in Fallwell, wherever or whatever, is having a good time."

Anyway, all this religious kerfluffle (plus a couple of other factors) eventually led to the complete destabilization of the English government and the execution of Charles I. And then when the monarchy was restored under Charles II and the country was like, "Oh thank goodness, we can have things like beer and Christmas again and maybe a little less religious conservatism," the Puritans promptly went, "Well this won't do at ALL." Most Puritan clergy with separatist leanings resigned from the Church of England and many Puritans packed up to move to the colonies, where they could "practice their religion in peace." (Read: "Where they could be as stodgy and strict and bigoted as they wished and created a system of laws based on religion instead of common good.")

There's a lot more to it than that and I'm simplifying and glossing over quite a bit, but that's the nuts and bolts.

The mess the Puritans made both in England and in America was one of the reasons the vaunted Founding Fathers insisted on Separation of Church and State, as well as why Freedom of Religion is part of the First Amendment. They'd seen England tearing itself apart over a Wabbit Season / Duck Season tug of war between Catholicism and Protestantism for a good century and more, and they did NOT want to repeat those mistakes in the new country they were trying to build. (They got a lot of stuff wrong, but at least they had the sense to be like, "Yeah maybe religion shouldn't run the government.")

So while it's true that the Puritans may have felt persecuted, it was for basically the same reasons that conservatives and fundamentalists claims to be oppressed today - people generally don't like it when their stodgy uptight neighbors try to beat them over the head with a Bible and demand that one particular interpretation of a single religion should be the driving force behind the running of every aspect of an entire country.

But since they got to write the earliest chapters of American history with no one to provide a strong counterargument, we get this pervasive self-created myth that the Puritans were these poor ragged refugees, fleeing religious persecution for a new land where they could live in peace and harmony and...decimate the local indigenous population and murder their own neighbors in the name of piety. The Pilgrims were assholes and we've been fed pretty lies in our schoolbooks for decades.

(For modern context, religion wasn't a strong part of American politics until McCarthyism happened, at which point we got the God references in the Pledge of Allegiance and on our currency. Then the Moral Majority movement got Reagan elected in 1980 and we've been fighting modern Puritans in government ever since. America has never been a Christian nation, but conservatives keep doing their damnedest to try and turn it into one.)

Hope this helps to clarify things! 😊

#history #puritans #american history #pilgrims

[reidslovely]

Bambi!! I have a request, my love!

Frat!Peter taking you and your little baby daughter on a picnic sometimes because he just wants to spend time alone with his girls ♡ maybe she's a bit older by now and he just chases her around a field and they pick flowers to bring to momma? he's so girl dad I'm gonna cry. okay, anyway, love you, love frat!Peter, hope you have a lovely day/night

Tana my love I love you so much!! I adore this thought and while listening to my cute little domestic Peter playlist Hozier's In a Week came on and it only fueled me to write more...thus I give you this cute little blurb..

We'd Become the Flowers

(please reblog or comment in place of liking/hearting this post pretty please)

Grass and flowers crushed under Peter's bare feet as he chased the three year old around the field. “Maisy, Maisy, Maisy May.” He said your little girl's name in a sing-song voice pretending not to be able to catch up with the little girl. 

“Be careful you two I don’t need another coffee table incident.”

Peter and the little girl's ears peaked at your voice yelling into the field. 

“I only needed a few stitches.” Peter defends himself, hearing you laugh. Snatching the curly haired toddler into his arms blowing a soft raspberry on her cheek. 

Her soft giggles and squeals of more filled the air in the meadow, you lounged lazily on the yellow checkered blanket with your finals study guide/homework scattered around you. Peter could see a blur of your hair color and the blue sundress hazy in the sunlight. 

“Wanna help daddy?” Peter asked, kissing his daughter's head spinning her around. 

“Wanna help.” She says kicking her legs as Pete puts her down picking a handful of flowers. She watches him intently grabbing from yellow and pink flowers. “For momma.” 

Peter nodded in response. “Of course.” 

Peter watched her adoringly, she was the perfect mix of the two of you. She was so little but her heart already held your passion and kindness. Her need for adventure and terrible two’s coming from him. He thanked whatever sent you to him, and whatever got him here. He sat in the grass pretending to bite at the flower his daughter was putting in his face.

 These were his favorite days, all day picnics in upstate. He felt a joy he knew all too familiar. It was the same feeling he held going to ball games with Ben growing up, but now he was happy to be on the other end. 

Peter carried his daughter on his hip as he walked back, her little arms tucked full of the flowers they had picked. Maisy insisted she was big and strong enough to carry them all. 

“What is this?” Your head craned up to look at them and the heat built in Peter’s chest and face. 

“Just a little gift for momma.” Peter smiles sitting Maisy down as she handed you the bouquet, which of itself was pretty impressive. 

“Awe thank you Maisy May.” You said kissing your daughter's head flattening out her hair. Maisy smiled hugging her arms around your neck and Peter took a mental picture tucking it away into his long term memory. 

“Everything okay?” You had asked him after a bit of him just sitting and staring, your daughter half asleep in your lap. Your fingers played with her curls as Peter's chin rested on his knee. He smiled and twirled one of the pink flowers from the batch. 

“Everything is perfect bashful, I got my girls.” 

Hope you enjoyed this small little blurb friend 🫶🏼 it was so cute.

Taglist: @helloheyhihowdyheya @sincericida @a-lumos-in-the-nox @moonyslove78 @messymissy @adhdhufflepuff @toomanyfictionalboyfriends @eevylynn

If you'd like to join my taglist check my pinned post!!

#tasm peter parker x reader #tasm andrew garfield #tasm peter parker #tasm!peter imagine #tasm peter x reader #bambi writes #tasm fic #tasm fanfiction #tasm peter #tasm! peter parker x reader #tasm! peter parker #tasm!spiderman x reader #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter x you #tasm! peter parker fluff #tasm! peter parker smut #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #frat!peter lore #frat!peter

[prettyboykatsuki]

The idea of back shots with wyll. Fang...dude ur making me lose it I can't I I I'm gonna pass away. HE. Him face. *Swoons* every time u reblog a pic or gif of him I immediately wanna ride his face so bad. Incurably horny for this man.

it's the little arch of your back that really gets him.

though the view of your ass is also plenty, it's the way you're bent over that really makes wyll feel like he's not supposed to be doing this. even at his most smug, there's just something vulgar about it. you're curving yourself and shaking your hips and pushing up against his cock so eagerly and wyll just. has so much access to you this way. he can see you so clearly in a way that makes his skin burn hotter than the hells.

when you finally does push his cock in, it's like you're one hundred times tighter than normal. it's the angle. such a small hole stretching itself around his thick cock - it never really occurred to him that your body was doing that. he could always feel you, but like this the pulse is so much stronger. he's so much deeper because of the way you're angled and mewling and needy. he pushes tentatively on the small of your back and you whimper from just how tight it gets. and wyll hisses. he grabs your hips and starts to piston himself and there's something so dirty about the way his balls slap your clit and how you press your cheek fervently into the bed roll beneath you because you want him to fuck you and focus on nothing but fucking you. drooling a mess over him only makes him want to fuck you harder, puts thoughts in his head he feels rather guilty about but that make him hard all the same.

he is a good and honest man but the sight of you taking him so beautifully. i just. think that would do something to him.

#return to sender #wyll x reader #a.wyll #god. kill me

[hajihiko]

Hey. So, I saw your Chiaki & Fuyuhiko comic that I like to call "Look on the Bright Side" (since it didn't have an official name in the post itself), and I loved it. I loved seeing Nanami & Kuzuryu interact with each other with the former comforting the latter on Peko and complimenting on how brave he was to save his friend, the scene between Fuyuhiko & Peko during the latter's execution, and then the scene of you making a throwback to your DR3 rewrite from your Talky Talky Tuesday content where the DR2 cast witness Human Chiaki's death and chose not to help her because of how awful Junko's influence on them was. It was heartwarming, bittersweet, and terrifying all at the same time, and as @/self-in-dulled-gent put it in their reblog of the comic, the 4th & 5th panels depicting your DR3 rewrite is a cool and visceral indication of how far the DR2 cast had fallen into despair. Heck, both the comic & the rewrite even serve as inspiration towards my au/rewrite/reimagine of DR3's Despair Arc & how Junko corrupts the DR2 cast into despair. So, thank you so much for the inspiration. I really appreciate it.

With all that in mind, I have some questions I wanna ask you regarding both the comic & DR3 rewrite, if you don't mind.

May I have your permission to do a review on your DR3 Rewrite post for my Advian Reads & Reviews content (which in case you're curious about, AR&R is reading review series where I read something, like fanfiction for example, while also doing a review on it at the same time, giving my thoughts on whatever I'm reviewing as well as potentially even sharing my own stories)?

Will you ever showcase the bonus panel of the rest of the class witnessing Chiaki's death that you mentioned in the comic's tags?

Who is the 5th person on the right between Kazuichi & Hiyoko in the 4th panel (I'm assuming it's Sonia based on the hairstyle, but I thought I'd ask for some confirmation)?

Will we ever get to see the dialogue of Chiaki not resenting Hajime/Izuru for not helping her you also mentioned in the comic's tags?

Follow up on that previous question, do you think it's possible that we might also get to see if Chiaki resents her classmates for not helping her, or if she would also get it with them like she did with Hajime/Izuru?

How exactly does Junko kill Chiaki in front of her classmates? Does she still have her go through her execution like in canon, or does she kill her in a different way, and if so, then how? I ask because I saw Nanami had blood coming from her eyes & mouth (making it look like Junko literally pulled her eyes out), there's blood on her hoodie & left thigh, and she appears to have been stabbed on her right side.

And those are my questions. In regards to gaining your permission to review your DR3 rewrite, if you do grant permission, great! I'll be sure to credit you and give you a shoutout too if you do. And if you don't, then I'm content with that and will understand and respect the reason behind your refusal, whatever that reason may be. Feel free to respond back to me whenever you get the chance. Thank you and have a wonderful day/afternoon/night. 🤗💕❤️🧡💛💚💙💜💖💕🤗

that's one heck of an ask so I'm using a readmore:

Thank you! I remember that comment hehe I'm really glad people like it

1: sure! Just know that I'm like, you know, just a fan and a hobbyist and not even really a writer so I'm not saying my rewrite is more right than anything else!

2: the bonus panel was actually everyone else's deaths (in SDR2) since they all sort of died alone, too. But it didn't feel relevant enough, I prrrrrrrrobably don't have the sketch anymore

3: yep that's Sonia

4: I'll be totally real i don't remember what I was thinking there at all. Sssssorryyyyyy

5: I think Chiaki, if she got to see the events of SDR2 as the AI, wouldn't resent her classmates so much as feel sorry for them and be disappointed. At the same time though I think she might be shocked at what they're capable of. Maybe she can't help but be a bit bitter, who knows. Hajime/Izuru is a different deal since that guy literally got his brains scrambled, can't really blame him. (sort of like deleting all the save data, maybe?)

6: the blood and amounts of it was more about the drama lol. But I thought the obstacle was like, a little too fantastical, not serious enough, so in my rewrite she straight up beats Chiaki to death with some kind of instrument. I think the image of Junko doing something so realistic (and slow) while everyone watches passively is even worse.

Thanks for asking beforehand! 💙

#not an art

[cosmicjoke]

Killing is not always wrong, and the act of killing doesn't automatically make someone a bad person:

Yeahhhh, okay, so as usual, these same idiots are completely misconstruing my words and points.

Let's, for a moment, just accept the absurd premise that killing is always morally wrong, and can never, no matter the circumstances surrounding the act, be justified. Let's just accept that premise for a moment, no matter how absurd or childish or rooted in actually harmful naivety it is.

The argument being made is that Levi, because he's killed, is a bad person. That's the argument. That because he's committed a "bad act", that automatically makes him a "bad person", regardless of the reason or circumstances surrounding his so-called bad act. The argument, then, boils down to ones actions being the sum total of a person's character, and there is no room from there on for any other considerations or factors in judging that person's character. You've killed someone, so, no matter the reason, you're a bad person.

I really wish I didn't have to explain why this type of thinking is wrong, but given the amount of morons liking and reblogging this person's post, I guess I'm forced to.

Even supposing someone commits a "bad act", (again, accepting the premise that killing is always wrong) that in and of itself doesn't make the person who's killed a "bad person". A person's character shouldn't be judged on their actions alone, especially when those actions are viewed in isolation, without considering the mitigating circumstances surrounding them. What a person should be judged by is their actual character, who they are, how they regard and treat others, what they believe, what they feel, etc… Is someone who kills in self-defense automatically a bad person, even if they feel deep regret and sadness over having had to kill someone to save themselves? That's what this person is saying, and it's patently ridiculous and false.

Again, Levi killing, even if you accept the premise that all killing is wrong, doesn't make Levi a bad person. What would make Levi a bad person would be if he killed and enjoyed it (like Zeke) or if he didn't care about what happened to other people, if he felt no empathy or sympathy for anyone but himself, if he enjoyed watching others suffer, if he felt nothing at the loss of life, if he selfishly put his own well being and desires over everyone else's wants and needs. THAT would make Levi a bad person. Not the act of killing alone, but him having a lack of feeling or empathy, remorse or sadness over the act.

This person doesn't seem to get that good people can do bad things, which is one of the central themes of AoT. They don't seem to understand either that we're not saying Levi is good because he kills, or that his killing is good because he's good (why would anyone ever think that's what we're saying?). We're not saying killing is good at all, but that it can be right, depending on the circumstances surrounding the act, and we're saying Levi is good because he's a totally selfless individual who cares genuinely and deeply about others, who sacrifices his own well being, both physical and mental, to help others, no matter the consequences to himself, and that his acts of violence, whether you regard them as justifiable or not, are committed for selfless and understandable reasons, like saving his own life or the lives of others, because he cares about and wants to help people, and are never motivated by things like greed, lust, self-satisfaction, self-aggrandizement or for petty revenge. Regardless of whether you think his violence is right or wrong, justifiable or not, it's that quality of compassion, kindness, empathy and selflessness in Levi that marks him out as a good man and a hero. To deny him that is disgusting and shows a level of stupidly blunt judgmentalism that shouldn't ever be accepted in any substantive debate over this sort of thing.

Beyond that, this idea that killing is always wrong and that killing in self-defense will always and without fail lead to justifying outright murder is nothing but a childish fallacy. There's even a term for it, called the "Slippery Slope Fallacy":

Our justice system differentiates between murder and justifiable homicide for a reason. You can't judge every act of killing the same way, or from the same principle of it always being wrong, no matter what. The only thing that sort of thinking leads to is mass persecution, punishment and oppression, both of thought and action. To view anything through that sort of black and white lens of moral correctness is to deny reality itself and the complexity of both the world we live in and of human beings themselves.

There are countless examples I could give in which killing can be and is regarded as justifiable and correct, but there's really no point in me making this post any longer than it already is. Anyone with a functioning brain and that actually applies logic to their thinking should be able to figure out what scenarios and situations and circumstances would render killing the right and correct course of action.

And that's all I'm going to say on this subject. It shouldn't even need to be explained. But, you know, tumblr and its users woeful lack of critical thinking skills strikes again.

#Levi Ackerman #commentary #meta #analysis #attack on titan #shingkei no kyojin

[olderthannetfic]

https://www.tumblr.com/olderthannetfic/733646414551400449/httpswwwtumblrcomolderthannetfic733409473777?source=share

i'm not prev anon but to me fandom bystander shit is just like.... as you said, don't egg on harassment campaigns, and i would also say, maybe just decide certain shit is beyond the pale and more important than fandom stuff. like, i'm tired of people making excuses for how sarah z falsely accused someone of being a terf (a thing that does nothing but hurt trans women by making terf accusations less credible) and encouraged her followers to harass her, and then played innocent "i didn't outright say to doxx her i didn't do the doxxing!" when she got doxxed, over the fact that that person made a post about how to frame progressive U.S. political goals in a way that will get more moderates on your side (without actually changing those political goals) and sarah z, a canadian with no stake in the game, decided that was "cringe." and every time you point this out, you will get so many defenders rushing in to tell you about how but her videos are good!!! i mean, they're not that good, and there are other people on youtube who are not harassers who make equally good or better ones on the same topics, but also, maybe some things should be more important to you than videos summarizing years-old fandom drama? what room do you have to laugh and cringe about the TJLC people if you're going to support someone who does the same thing?

or likewise, this isn't about fandom so much but i really wish more people on tumblr would decide that tankies who cheered on the russian invasion of ukraine or who deny genocides like the holodomor, a weirdly large group on this website, are people they should at least unfollow if not block no matter what else they offer. there's a popular blog here, heritageposts, that just reposts old "classic" tumblr posts with the "date of origin" (something that can usually be seen on the post itself) that also uses their massive number of followers to post pro-north-korean propaganda and pro-stalin stuff denying his atrocities, and people are just like, whatever, the heritage posts - posts that person didn't even make, but is reposting from others - are funny. like, really? you're just going to put up with them basically being a genocide denier because they reblog funny posts? when there are a million other blogs on here that do the same thing that aren't tankies?

like i think the idea is just like: have some standards, and don't support terrible people because of some other relatively small thing they do (that plenty of other people do). and that there's a difference between this and the idea that you should write anyone off over the most minor transgression. these are big things, and the "positives" are relatively small. doxxing people and genocide denial should be dealbreakers for you.

--

And on a lighter note, I do wish that people would have the balls to go on publicly interacting with ostracism targets. Yes, it paints a target on your own back. No, it does not invite the same level of drama as directly going after the people posting spurious callouts.

[hey-august]

Congratulations on your milestone, August!!! 🥳🥳 I'm so happy for you 😍 Can I have petal (gardenia) + “You’re gonna make me cry.” Thank you ♥3♥

Thank you, Venus!! 🩷🩷 I really appreciate all your encouragement! It makes me so so happy to see your likes, reblogs, comments, asks etc etc etc 🥰

Prompts: Petal (gardenia), "You’re gonna make me cry." Teaser: "[...] I don’t remember putting in an order for droopy sticks.”" Warnings: SFW, established relationship, brief profanity, it takes a moment for Buggy to show up, but he does! Word count: ~1k

Check out my 250 Follower Prompt Event and see fulfilled prompts here.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The sun hung high, dropping a bright and heavy heat onto the ship. Your shadow clung to the small perimeter it was allowed to occupy as you traveled the deck. Only a few crew members remained working under the cloudless sky, cursing those who had taken refuge in the cool belly of the ship. Your passing presence was overlooked as they fixated on completing the tasks at hand and retreating from the sun’s aggression. 

Your feet picked up the pace, matching the speed of the sweat beading on your forehead. Although your body was trying to cool itself, the layer of saltwater only added to the constricting heat. As much as you’d also like to avoid the oppressive heat, there was something important you needed to do.

A ship this size has a few areas that are visited rarely - usually only by those required and just often enough to ensure there aren’t any problems. In this case, you were headed to such an area due to a self-imposed requirement and because you knew there was a time-sensitive problem.

At the stern of the ship was a small maze of storage. Crates and barrels were stacked and strewn with careless intention. The minimum amount of planning was used to organize the wooden containers in a way that each one could be accessed and checked with relative ease. This left behind a few unused nooks as items graduated from storage to in-use. And in one such nook were a few planters with greenery that was becoming less green with each passing minute.

Crouching low, you looked at the plants you’ve cared for since they were seeds. You didn’t expect they would sprout, but they did. You didn’t know if they’d take to life at sea, but they did. You didn’t think they’d live long enough to bloom, but they were trying.

Your heart ached at the sight of their wilting leaves. You pinched a few, examining how the soft rubbery foliage rolled. There was still hope. 

The plants needed to get out of the hot sun. But you also needed to keep them out of sight, at least until they bloomed. You had been working on this surprise for so long and the swollen buds meant the end was close. If they survived.

You swiped at the sweat on your forehead, which only served to gather the liquid and create fat drops that escaped down your hand and the sides of your face. You would need a drink after this and so would the plants. So not only did you have to find a safe place, but you also need to hydrate them. Without being noticed.

Maybe there was a space nearby that would work, at least temporarily. It would be better to bring the planters inside, but even a shady area would be better than nothing right now. You stood up and turned to assess your options, only to be met with an unexpected audience sitting atop a nearby crate.

Buggy kicked his feet against the wood and waggled his fingers at you in a nonchalant wave. The pirate clown had shed most of his usual attire in favor of a version that was better suited for the heat. The open vest showed his glistening chest and arms, signs that the pirate had been out in the sun nearly as long as you.

“Fuck, Buggy! What are you doing here?” you said indignantly, shuffling to the side to block his view of the plants.

“I should be asking you the same thing,” was his quick retort. “It’s too hot to be skulking around like this.”

“Uh, yeah. You head back inside and I’ll be there in a minute. Actually, I’m thirsty. Why don’t you grab some drinks for us?”

“Them too?” Buggy gestured to what was behind you.

You hesitated. Your captain was exactly who you wanted to keep the plants from and at this rate, you might not be able to convince him to leave long enough for you to help the fading flora. This was a surprise for him, one that could be ruined or saved by his presence. If the plants died, then you’d have nothing.

“Yeah…them too. It’s too hot for them,” you said, walking over to Buggy and standing between his still swinging legs.

“Why are they even here? I don’t remember putting in an order for droopy sticks.” 

You slapped his knee, despite the joking grin that accompanied his quip.

“They’re mine. I’ve been growing them and wanted to keep them a secret until they bloomed. They’re supposed to look beautiful…” You couldn’t hide the apprehension at the end. They had meant so much to you.

“I got seeds from that old guy on the island a few months back. I wanted to… They’re…”

Buggy raised his eyebrows but stayed surprisingly quiet. Probably an attempt to conserve energy while under the boiling sun.

“I was growing them for you. They’re supposed to be gardenias and they reminded me of you. I wanted- They’re supposed to be a thank you for everything.”

“Oh stop, you’re gonna make me cry,” Buggy teased, as he dragged a finger down his cheek from the corner of his eye. The movement only highlighted the truth behind the extra mist in his eyes and the quiver in his lip.

Slapping his knee again, you teased back, “Don’t, you’ll only dehydrate yourself in this heat. You’d probably fall apart into a pile of dust, instead of body parts.”

Buggy convinced you to move the plants into your shared quarters. The room would be cooler and would collect enough light for the blooms.

Together, you scooped up the three containers. Buggy looked at the stakes in each planter, labeling the different varieties: August Beauty, Crown Jewel, and Celestial Star. Buggy rolled his eyes in an attempt to spread out the excess moisture they were collecting. He didn’t know what the flowers would look like, but he knew enough to understand why you picked them as a thank you for him.

“I can’t wait to see the flowers, they’re going to be so flashy,” Buggy proudly announced once the containers were settled in their new home and soaking up water.

His unabashed excitement was contagious. You threw your arms around the pirate, ignoring how you stuck together, and planted kisses all over his face. Although the flowers were supposed to be a way for you to show your appreciation, there were other things you could do in the meantime.

#buggy x reader #buggy the clown x reader #buggy the clown #buggy x you #x reader #buggy op #opla buggy #one piece buggy #buggy x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #hey-august 250 follower event