#and some people still have the AUDACITY to be homophobic

[theschizotypalsolilquy]

I just know that that anon is the same person who was camping under two Jikook blogs yesterday and I don't know why y'all even waste your time on them because it's clear as day that they're just a Jungkook solo who's extremely homophobic.

It's okay to think that he's not with Jimin and that he's someone who fools around and has a high body count. Anything is possible. But to double down on the fact that "JK fucks girls" is all I need to know about that person and what their agenda really is. If the point they're trying to make is that it's unlikely for a young, handsome, successful and famous man like him to be in a committed monogamous relationship, then why is their emphasis only on the fact that he's sleeping with women? He can still be sleeping with men as well, no?

I love how they use "scandals" and that recent smoking clip of him *nonchalantly* staring at a girl for three seconds as proof that he likes pussy, but conveniently ignore all the times he's shown blatant attraction towards men over the years.

I wouldn't be surprised if anon is just a JK solo imagines herself as his future Y/N and doesn't like the fact that there are so many people who believe he possibly doesn't like women, likes men and even more so, that he's been in love with one for so many years. It shatters the illusion.

Anon should give up on coming here with some mission to make Jikookers "see the light". It's futile. There have been many like them years before, they're not the first. But what's always interesting about these people is that I've never see them camping under Taekook, Yoonmin and Vmin (when it still had people who genuinely believed they were in a romantic relationship) blogs with their theories.

I've always lurked on every side of ARMY Tumblr and I never see the other shippers getting such asks; it's always Jikookers. Which is strange considering that Jikookers aren't even nearly as loud as Taekookers or Yoonminers for them to always attract people like that.

Simple answer?

Cuz they feel threatened by a 5'9 androgynous beauty who gets heart eyes 24/7 from their solo stan.

But what they forget is that before Jimin's "glow up" (cuz dude was always hot he just matured into an ethereal being and honestly good for him) JK was still obsessed. Constantly touching and squeezing his arm muscles, the almost exorcist neck turn when Jimin would flash his abs during the choreo for "No More Dream", how when the members were asked what part of Jimin they liked the best, JK doubled down and said "all of that".

He LOVES that man. And whether they think it's platonic or romantic, some people have a problem with it. And that's horrible for them because their bond is so rare. It should be celebrated. The gods decided those two should meet, they should bond, and we are better for it. Because something like that comes along so rarely, and we are privileged to witness it.

But homophobic bitches and delusional yns ruin it. They can't accept it. I guarantee you that if those two weren't half as hot and as popular as they are, they wouldn't give a fuck. It's the audacity to them. How dare a gorgeous man love another gorgeous man? He should be getting all that pussy, spreading his seed far and wide, not settling for a man. How dare he gatekeep his own hotness??

That's how they think. And it's revolting.

#jimin #jungkook #jikook #kookmin #park jimin #jeon jungkook

[francesminos-tt]

Joffy is the captain of the football team and Daeron is a serious and renowned lawyer, they hate each other.

But somehow that doesn't stop them from having sex.

optional tags: odaxelagnia, rough sex, rimming.

My bad habit is trying to build up the world even though it’s just smut.

Today was the first day Joffrey went back to the football field. He had been wrongly suspended for the rest of the season by a complete misunderstanding, but he managed to appeal his case to the National Football Committee, getting back to the field after only three months. However, three months suspension was still a long time, especially for a rising star like Joffrey.

Joffrey Velaryon was Harrenhal FC’s youngest captain in the last three decades. This record was formerly held by his biological father, Harwin Strong, who made it to the captain at the age of 23. Joffrey was made captain at 22, just one year after he had made his professional debut. He was a talented forward player, quick, agile and very skillful at free kicks. He had scored a warping 20 goals in the last season, winning himself the newcomer of the year.

However, just when everyone expected Joffrey to lead Harrenhal to the realm’s cup, he was suspended for getting into a bar fight and injuring four people. The scandal was the biggest gossip on social media for months.

Golden Boy Proved To Be A Violent Hater!

Is Joffrey Velaryon Homophobic?

The LGBTQ+ Society Cancels Joff the Jork

The Westeros Football Committee and The Riverlands League says they will not tolerate violence and hate crime

Joffrey wanted to spit on those damn reporters’ faces, but he couldn't afford to cause any more troubles now. His mother had called the crisis management team, led by none other than the person he hated the most in this world. His serious, renowned, highly competent lawyer uncle Daeron, who Joffrey hated with passion.

“Fractured ribs, concussion, broken legs and snapped fingers,” Daeron read aloud the medical reports of those who were hospitalized by Joffrey, “very impressive, nephew. Are you sure you want to continue your football career? I think you will do better in wrestling, since you prefer to speak with your fists rather than with your mouth.”

See? He had to laugh at Joffrey any chance he got. Daeron had always been like this, looking down upon Joffrey just because Joff didn't go to university. Daeron always treated Joffrey as if he was some kind of savage. Joffrey hated the blonde man for it. He might depend on his physical strength to make a living, but it didn't mean he was an imbecile.

“If you are here to mock me, just fucking leave.” Joffrey rolled his eyes and tried to turn his head away, but the slightest movement sent a sharp pain down his neck. Fuck, he nearly forgot he had a concussion too.

“No, I am here to help you, dear Joff. Mocking is just for my own entertainment.” Daeron chuckled, sitting down at the edge of Joffrey’s hospital bed, “I need your full cooperation to appeal the case. How about you stop throwing me death glares?”

“What do you want?” Joffrey asked through gritted teeth.

“Firstly, I need a complete and honest statement.” Daeron replied, pulling out a recording pen from his pocket, “Why did you beat these people up?”

“They were assholes.” Joffrey said.

“I need more details than that.” Daeron continued, not at all annoyed, “I know you don't beat people up just because they are assholes.”

“Yeah? All the media seems to believe so.” Joffrey scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“No, you are not.” Daeron said so seriously that for a moment, Joffrey was actually moved by the blonde’s words. However, any good feeling Joffrey had for Daeron quickly disappeared when the blonde added, “If so, I would be beaten to death by you a long time ago.”

“Asshole.” Joffrey spat.

“Exactly.” Daeron had the audacity to smile, “You might have put wasabi in my birthday cake before, but you never beat me. So, tell me, Joffrey, what did these people say or do that made you so angry?”

Joffrey bit his lower lip and went silent. Firstly, he didn't want to tell Daeron why he had gone to a gay bar. Secondly, he was reluctant to admit that he had beaten those people up because they insulted Joffrey’s family and called him a pervert.

“I can’t help you if you don't talk, Joff.” Daeron said, but he seemed patient. He was always composed and calm, while Joffrey was often described as a hot-tempered jork.

“What difference will it make if I tell you? I am already suspended. The damage is done. I don't want to go through the humiliation again.” Joffrey said after a long pause.

“Your mother called me, Joffrey. She doesn't believe a single word on social media. She swore that her baby boy did it for a reason. She wants to appeal your case so bad that she’s willing to beg my mother to let me help you. Do you want her effort to be all for naught?” Daeron asked after switching off the recording pen, “So let me ask you again. What made you start a fight in a gay bar? I will switch on the recording again after you are ready.”

The last thing Joffrey wanted was to hurt his mother. Hell, he started the fight to defend her name. He considered for a moment before nodding, indicating Daeron to resume recording.

“Go ahead.”

“They insulted my mother and called her a hypocrite for marrying a gay man.” Joffrey said, his anger slowly building by just recalling the words, “They called me a pervert and…”

“And?”

Joffrey reached out to switch off the recording again.

“I don't deserve their cock.” Joffrey finished, casting his eyes down. He was sure Daeron could understand the hidden meaning in his words.

Joffrey didn’t go to a gay bar to pick up fights. He went to a gay bar like anyone else, to hang out and hopefully get laid. In the sports world, sexual orientation was still a ‘don’t say, don’t ask’ topic. Joffrey hadn’t get laid since he broke up with his boyfriend, and he was desperate. He didn't want to jerk off in his flat like a miserable 14-year-old anymore, so he went out to have some fun. He should have stayed inside. See what his horny got him.

“All right.” Daeron said, “I already have some idea about appealing your case. I need some time to work things out, and in the meantime, you stay put and do not get into trouble again.”

“How could I?” Joffrey snorted, “Look. I am confined to the hospital bed. I think a prisoner has more freedom than me.”

“Be good, Joffrey.” Daeron stood up and headed for the door, “Think about how you can thank me after I get you on the field again.”

“You are just going to help me like that?” Joffrey asked to Daeron’s back, “I thought you hated me.”

“Maybe.” Daeron half-turned and flashed Joffrey a smile, “But I want to see you owe me one so bad. I look forward to your thank-you gift, nephew.”

“Get out.” Joffrey managed between ragged breaths, “My ass is going to split.”

Daeron didn’t answer, for he was busy burying his teeth in Joffrey’s shoulder, hard enough to draw blood. Joffrey hissed as a sharp pain spread from where Daeron’s teeth embedded in his flesh. Joffrey didn’t know which hurt more, his shoulder, or his hole that was stretched to the limit by Daeron’s cock.

Joffrey had no idea how they ended up like this. Today’s game ended with a draw, and Joffrey managed to give two assists, one of them resulting in a goal, which was not a bad performance for someone who hadn’t played for month. The team’s manager drove him home personally, to make sure Joffrey didn’t get into trouble again. When he came out of the sedan, Joffrey found Daeron’s sportscar on his driveway.

It seemed that Daeron was here to collect his reward, or thank-you gift, as the blonde insisted on calling it. Joffrey would never have guessed that Daeron wanted sex as a reward. They had only fucked like what, five times at most? Or ten? Maybe a dozen? Twenty?

“You should have called me.” Daeron murmured to Joffrey’s nape, licking the wound he had just inflicted on the brunette’s skin, “I will fuck you so hard that you won’t be able to sit for a whole damn week. Are you really going to let some stranger from the bar fuck you?”

Joffrey tried to answer, but Daeron took the opportunity to thrust into him, the tip of Daeron’s cock brushing against his good spot, sending a rush of pleasure up his spine. Joffrey moaned and clenched his hole unconsciously.

“Answer me!” Daeron raised his voice, one arm wrapped around Joffrey’s waist, the other pulling the brunette’s hair, “Do you crave cock so much that any one will work?”

“You weren’t here!” Joffrey retorted, his eyes glistening with tears but his tone was full of hatred, “We are just fuck buddies. Do you expect me to keep pure for you, huh? I am not some innocent chick who will wear a purity ring for you.”

Daeron pulled Joffrey’s hair harder, forcing the brunette to exposing his vulnerable neck. Joffrey hissed in pain, but Daeron gave him no time to adjust. Daeron bit hard on the thin skin of Joffrey’s neck, just beside the brunette’s arteries. Daeron tasted blood on his tongue, the sweet and metallic taste made his very being sing with euphoria. He was a vampire when it came to Joffrey. His gum would actually ache whenever he laid eyes on Joffrey. He wanted to bite into the softness of Joffrey’s inner thigh, the hard muscle of Joffrey’s stomach, the juicy flesh of Joffrey’s ass, Joffrey’s arm, neck, chest, fingers, toes, and even the brunette’s cock. He wanted to devour them all.

Joffrey hissed, grunted and moaned, but he was unable to shake Daeron off. The blonde was like a persistent alien, determined to feed on Joffrey’s flesh, blood, and bones.

“Get off me, damn it!” Joffrey cursed, “I told you not to leave a mark.”

Daeron finally lifted his head from Joffrey’s neck, his lips and teeth stained with Joffrey’s blood, the usual calm and collected lawyer replaced by a lustful beast.

“I never promised I would follow your orders.” Daeron said, sneaking his hand down to grab Joffrey’s sagging cock, “You are not hard yet. Do I not please you, nephew?”

Joffrey knew the damn bastard was calling him nephew on purpose, reminding him just how wrong the whole thing was. They were related. They were both men. They hated each other. But why couldn't they stop fucking?

Daeron began to pump Joffrey’s cock while rocking his hips forward, thrusting into Joffrey’s ass without mercy. He thrust so hard that the lube he used earlier was squeezed out of Joffrey’s hole, as the nasty sound of his balls hitting Joffrey’s ass echoed the room. Daeron felt the brunette’s cock grew harder in his hand, sticky pre-cum dripping from the pink tip to his fingers.

Joffrey let out a muffled groan, arching his back and clenching his hole as pleasure took over him. He was in pain. His cock was ready to explode at any moment, the bloody bite marks on his neck and shoulder hurt like hell, his hole sore from taking Daeron’s cock for so long, and his hair was being pulled so hard that he felt his scalp was going to peel off. Everything hurt, but the worst of all, he was so fucking aroused by the pain.

“You are squeezing my cock so hard with your lusty hole, Joff.” Daeron bit Joffrey’s earlobe before licking off the small beads of blood oozing from the teeth-shaped wound, “Are you going to come?”

Yes, yes, he was going to come. He wanted release, so fucking bad.

“Fuck yes.” Joffrey murmured.

“I need you to promise me one thing.” Daeron whispered in Joffrey’s ear, running his finger down the brunette’s shaft.

“Anything!” Joffrey was going insane by the blonde’s teasing, “Anything you say, uncle. Just let me come!”

Daeron said something, but Joffrey couldn't hear a word as a wave of pleasure overwhelmed him. His stomach tightened, his toes curling from pleasure, his skin tingling with unspoken euphoria, as he came in Daeron’s hand. Joffrey’s vision went dark for a moment before he regained his senses.

“Good boy.” Daeron was planting kisses on Joffrey’s ear when the brunette could hear again, “I expect you to keep your promises.”

Joffrey hummed. He had no idea what Daeron had made him agree, but he wasn’t going to find out. Not now, anyway. He would rather cuddle in bed and maybe have a second round after he could feel his ass again. He was sure the promise was nothing. Probably some boring rivalry stuff, or Daeron was asking him for sexual favor. Either way, Joffrey wasn’t opposed to the idea.

Joffrey closed his eyes and began to doze off, with his ass filled with hot, sticky semen.

If you decide to be a whore, be my whore instead.

#house of the dragon #hotd #joffron #my asks #joffrey velaryon #daeron x joffrey #daeron the daring #smut

[mettleborn]

Continued from x with @wrathfulmercy

“Sam? You gotta be joking.” Rick replied with his hand nervously tapping against the wooden table they were sitting on while Carlson couldn’t stop grinning about the tea he apparently just spilled. “I’m telling you! Thought he was the cunt kinda guy as well but… we all gotta make mistakes don’t we?” The way Carlson said it wasn’t actually homophobic or so Rick hoped but his damn stupid smirk before he drowned his whiskey wasn’t actually bringing any ease to Rick’s mind right now. No, he was pissed because he knew exactly that if these rumors were true and Sam was seeing someone - a guy - then it was serious. He tried to keep it cool but probably looked like someone just shit on his face, his scoff obviously an annoyed one he tried to overplay with a fake smile.

“Yeah, mistakes. We all make them.” Rick mumbled, thinking how he probably made the biggest one by falling for a man again and starting to trust him. In shame he hid behind his glass of bourbon as he suddenly noticed Sam coming into that same damn bar they were sitting in. This had to be a fucking joke, right? “Oh fuck me.” Rick cussed and added “Do we have an annual employee of the year meeting tonight or what?”

“Oh fuck he’s coming here, don’t mention it Grimes. You know how these stories need to stay a secret when it’s personal. I’m gonna head over to the bar, that chick over there looks just about right for me tonight.” Carlson got up and wasn’t only in a hurry cause he was scared to miss a new opportunity to fill his sheets tonight, but because he was probably scared that Sam would knock his teeth out if he found out about him spilling some facts. “Yeah, have fun.” Rick murmured more to himself and in that moment Sam had already reached his table with that damn adorable smile while Carlson was long gone.

“You here? Alone?” Rick asked as Sam sat down next to him, gaining nothing but a confused glare back. No, he couldn’t take it. Not tonight and not ever. Instead of letting the other man speak, Rick just waved him off and drowned the rest of his drink in an angry matter. “You know what? Just talk to someone else. Maybe to that sweet little lover you got yourself cause one is obviously not enough for the poor starving man you actually are.” In a provocative manner Rick smashed the glass on the table and got up, grabbing his coat from the chair to hide within its black fabric so he could disappear in the darkness not only the club but night provided outside.

He needed to breathe, ball his fists within his pockets before anybody would see this. This was fucking ridiculous. First he ran into fucking Carlson who was just another former partner he used to share a mission with, but then fucking Sam. Coming in looking gorgeous as ever and as if he just has the best fuck of his life that made him a little too happy for Rick’s taste. Fuck how much he hated that. Why did that man look so good? Why did he smile that way? Why the fuck did he have the audacity to come up to Rick as if he couldn’t wait to tell him about his new favorite lover? To hell with him.

“Mistake.” Rick cussed to himself in a teasing manner while he walked around the dark corner that led straight to his hotel room for the night. Man, this night should have looked different than that. Maybe he should start seeing other people too again? But what if he didn’t want to? Lost in thoughts and with eyes that suddenly started burning as if he was about to fucking cry over a man who should have been known to be a mistake, he didn’t realize as he suddenly bumped into another frame and only as he looked up to apologize firmly, he recognized the eyes that were staring at him still with the same confusion and maybe now filled with anger. “You gotta be fucking kidding me.” Rick rolled his eyes and stepped back, his hands secretly fiddling with nails digging into the flesh of his inner palm out of nervousness. “What do you want, Sam? Do you not have another fucking idiot to play with tonight?”

==========================

They hadn’t exactly agreed to meet tonight, but with Sam in the same city as Rick for once, he had figured he would follow him from his hotel to a nearby bar to surprise him for a drink. He’d play it off casual; act like it was mere coincidence and hopefully not appear too much like a fucking stalker.

The reception he receives isn’t the kind he expected, what the hell is Rick going on about? What ‘little lover’? Admittedly Sam is so shocked by the unexpected outburst that when he finally moves to speak, Rick’s already leaving. Moving to pursue Rick out onto the street, it’s then he spots him - Carlson…that fucker. Immediately striding over to him, Sam’s hand shoots out like a viper to grab Carlson by the throat, neatly backing him up against the wall until they’re face to face.

“What the fuck did you say to him?” Samuel’s words are growled through gritted teeth. He can feel the tense movement of Carlson’s Adam’s apple as the man struggles to swallow against Sam’s harsh grip. Easing slightly, he uses the hold to smack Carlson’s head back against the wall with insistence.

“Talk.”

“Nothing, fuck, I didn’t say shit Sam.” Carlson gargles back, clearly calculating whether he should strike back or continue to remain subdued. “Let him go back to his hotel, bang some chick and get it out of his system.”

There’s a moment that Sam sees red, where he can think of nothing more than beating Carlson unconscious but that frantic fury soon begins to subside as he finally notices the rest of the bar are now watching in hushed silence and the bartender is likely calling the cops. “Fuck you.” He finally spits in Carlson’s face, releasing the man and allowing him to drop to the floor before making a speedy exit, eager to get out of there before things get any more heated - not something he can afford when he has a mission to complete tomorrow morning.

Rounding the corner, back towards Rick’s hotel, Sam hastily turns down a deserted backstreet and softly collides directly into Rick, just in time to hear him utter a word that immediately causes Sam’s chest to ache.

“What do you mean, mistake? What the hell has gotten into you?” A large part of Sam wants to pull Rick into his embrace, to reassure him, comfort and soothe him and yet there still remains that self-protective instinct; the one warning him not to get too close, not to risk so much – this could be the rejection he’s been fearing all along.

“Little lover?” The words are still stuck at the forefront of Sam’s mind and the insinuation they represent is enough to make his blood boil.

“Is that it huh? You think I’m what, some kind of slut? Just sleeping around with any man I pair up with…” He huffs out a tense breath making clear he’s not yet finished. “…and that makes you what, just one in a long list, just another causal lay to pass the time? Maybe you’d prefer that huh…just meaningless…just a fucking mistake.”

#[samuel silas] blessed are those who hunger and thirst for justice #Assassin verse #[Rick x Sam: would you die for me?] #Rick Grimes #Umbra #wrathfulmercy #((I had to reply to this...love a good fight! XD)) #((I been storing up my drafts to get them all done but just had to post this after reading that meme response XD))

[dearweirdme]

genuine question: do you guys not think it's incredibly unhealthy to sit online speculating about literal strangers' sexualities all day? do y'all not see how grossly disrespectful that is just as a general concept? these are people none of you have EVER met or spent ANY actual personal time with. they don't know you and therefore have never disclosed details about their romantic life bc it isn't your business??? what gives ANY OF YOU the right to hyper analyze everything they do to attribute it to their sexuality? i'm trying to understand how you all could possibly say you love them but don't have enough respect for any of them to simply be fans of their music and leave this weird ship at the door. y'all hyperanalyze all their body language to confirm they're in love but ignore them mentioning how the comments section is never fun to look at (bc it's ALWAYS just shippers being stupidly unhinged) and the very obvious discomfort the shipping shit brings them. most of you shippers are straight women fetishizing. most of you shippers are larries who jumped ship when 1d disbanded. most of you are grown adults who need to get offline and get real hobbies that don't involve breaking down the potentiality of sexuality for people you literally don't know personally. how do all of you have so much audacity and so much time to think half-critically but no time at all to introspect on the level of sheer delusion you have to willfully exist in to perpetuate this narrative shamelessly? this is so sick. how do y'all not feel awful about all the blatant, obvious, perceivable stress you shippers cause them? why can’t y'all behave like actual people with empathy and ethics?

Hi anon!

You are not sending me a genuine question. If that had been your aim you would’ve worded your ask differently. I also wonder if you send asks like this to blogs and accounts who talk and speculate about their relationships with women.. because if you are not actually being homophobic right now.. that would be the same.

I understand the delicacy in this. Except for the part of tour ask that seems homophobic (and plain rude and extremely biased on many accounts) I can even understand you wanting people to stay out of their private business to some level. You want to protect them from harm and I very much applaud that, even though I think your reasoning is faulty in some ways. It is for instance nothing new or weird for fans to care for and be interested in the private lives of artists. It’s something that the artists themselves and their labels/companies also know and at times even feed into. It’s basically inherent to the fan/artist situation. It’s just human nature to be interested in things like this.. is that bad? I don’t know if a word like bad or good applies here.. it’s just human to me.

You look at all shippers and their ways as the same. I think there’s many different kinds of shippers. There’s definitely those that go way too far. People should never confront members themselves with these things. Don’t go in their comments with Taekook or Jkk mentions. Don’t bring banners to concerts, just.. don’t. Not to blow my own horn.. but I would never! Also the constant searching for proof in the tiniest things… it’s so unnecessary and it makes people look crazy and (!) it takes away from the seriousness that this situation brings with it. Which brings me to my reason for talking about this.

Aside from thinking Tae and Jk are super cute and adorably in love, there’s the underlying issue of queerness still not being socially accepted in so many places all around the world. I think it’s important to talk about these things (even as a straight adult, because the more people talk about these things.. the more influence we have in making things better for the future). If no one was to ever talk about celebrities being closeted or closeting in general.. there would be no progress. I am fairly sure about what I have seen between Tae and Jk.. I am also fairly sure that they are not ashamed about their queerness. That is why I talk about this. I feel I am doing this in a respectful way. There’s things I do not discuss (sexual stuff) because I feel that’s in general not useful for the conversation.

I am not willing to take responsibility for other Tkkrs behavior though. I talk about things for myself and for my own reasons. I like to think everyone is able to think for themselves and be responsible for the way they interact in fandom. I am my own person though.. I do not rile up Tkkrs to go leave annoying comments anywhere.

Mostly though.. I am talking about love, anon. The difference between you and me is that to you them being straight is the default and to me it is not. Your ‘speculation about sexuality’ feels harmful to me.. because it’s love that we talk about.. I really hate the notion that there’s a difference between same sex love and straight love for you.

#fandom shenanigans #also #this is tumblr #taekook

[epickiya722]

For real, it's just shipping, sure. But at the same time, it is so sad to me when I see anybody say "I don't ship that anymore" and the reason doesn't even be the ship, it be the people.

I won't even say it just shippers of M/F pairs that do this, or homophobes or younger members of a fandom because let's be for real here, folks.

Anybody is capable of doing it. It falls onto you to be a jerk or not.

There are same-sex ships that have people who harass others, too. Someone doesn't have to be homophobic to be a hater towards a M/M or F/F ship and their shippers. And it's not just "young people behavior" because we know that grown ass people do it, as well.

Sure, someone's morals and age could be a reason why they're being a dick. But sometimes, that person is just being a dick, their background be damned.

Just the thought of someone sending a threat or throwing slurs at anybody over an opinion, over having different taste is just ridiculous to me.

The audacity of some people to even be upset at someone for responding with as much animosity as they shown that other people FOR NO GOOD REASON...

For real, what did you think was gonna happen? That the person you sent hate mail to will suddenly convert to the ship you like?

As a multishipper, I do still have ships I like. I do have ships I don't hate. But when it comes to the shippers? I don't interact with them. Hell, there are some ships I like I don't write fics for (or at least not anymore) because in the back of my mind I'm just "I don't want to share something with people who can't respect boundaries" and that there are other people who write for that ship, so it's not a lost for anyone.

Like, I cannot write a fluff fic for a ship after seeing a shipper of that ship comment under someone's post with hate because what if that same hater reads my fic? Not a big deal, but I don't think I like the idea of someone who just send a threat to someone reading anything of mine and get to enjoy themselves over my time and effort. That same hater can later send hate to me for writing or reblogging fanart of the ship they hate.

Now, for me, I stay out of having a full out argument with someone over two characters kissing and holding hands.

The way I see it, let that person make an ass of themselves. If it's their own post, just block them and move on. Don't give a single damn about what they say.

I also feel that if someone sends you anon hate, you have every right to not give them what they want. You have every right to do what you please.

They try to debate? Ask them what their favorite time of day is. Place a meme as your response. Don't give them a serious response because what they did was silly. Or even report that message. Your choice.

Just... in general people, and I know I already said this before in another post, do better. You cannot be pressed enough to send hate to someone because they have no interest in the same ship as you.

That's the equivalent of sending someone hate mail because they don't drink coffee but you do.

It's pointless.

#just kiya's thoughts #ship #ships #shipping discourse #shipping

[tehri]

I love LotRO. I really do.

I love the Laurelin server.

I just loathe some of the damn people on that server.

We have a dude who, no joke, has been stubbornly creating new account after new account for the past frigging YEAR specifically because his accounts keep getting banned. Because he is constantly harassing people. Because he’s convinced that there’s some conspiracy where the Literally Nicest Dude On The Server has riled everyone up against him because he acted like a dick during an RP-event.

LNDotS reported him after that incident, because the Asshole was spewing a lot of horrendous shit at him. Asshole was banned for a month. Came back, immediately began a hate-campaign against LNDotS and against anyone who had the audacity to tell Asshole that he was acting like, well, an asshole.

Constant harassment of people. Constant creation of alts to continue spreading hate and harassment.

Then that account was nuked. And he got creative.

Dude started creating new accounts and new characters. And he started talking up his original character. And I mean, talking up in the sense that he was actively talking like he was someone else, like he was an old friend of... himself.

This failed for a single reason. He has a VERY distinctive writing-style, which includes severe overuse of “....” and random-ass hashtags and referring to himself as “Dr [insert name of first character here]”. Everyone knew it was him immediately, and so began the long and tedious blocking-spree of each and every character that wrote in World Chat like that.

And for about 3 months, we had Peace. Peace and Quiet. Turns out, some people on the server have been stalking Asshole’s twitter, and they realised he got banned. Again.

And then came this last month. Where we’ve had a resurgence of Asshole’s shenanigans, with a whole new flavour.

The first hint we had to Asshole’s unwanted return was a sudden World Chat message. From a character with a name that was very obviously a parody of LNDotS’s main character name. Talking about LNDotS in third person and saying a whole bunch of horrendous bullshit.

Obviously, we all knew who it was, because that distinctive writing style has not been abandoned.

He did this at least twice - could be more, but I’ve only seen two of these.

So Asshole is now back again, and today he resurfaced with Yet Another Alt that was literally his first character name with an x at the end. Still spewing shit. Still calling everyone homophobes and racists and pedophiles. And still insisting that there’s been a hate-campaign going on against him for months.

When I say that I wish this dude could be IP-banned, I am not fucking joking. We have enough trolls and dickheads on the server without Asshole trying to harass LNDotS into quitting the game.

#tehri plays Lord of the Rings Online #tehri plays LotRO #Lord of the Rings Online #LotRO #Laurelin #server trolls #harassment #getting increasingly sick of Dr P

[lady-gravity-129]

It feels wrong to not make a post addressing what I’ve seen more than 24 hours after making a different post wrongly calling out the wrong people.

-leans into microphone-

If you respect others opinions and don’t harass them over it, go on with your day. This doesn’t concern you.

Anyways,

Certain Sabezra shippers (you know who you are), don’t think you’re off the hook.

You can’t say some of the most heinous and awful things I’ve ever read and then have the audacity to get upset when you’re called out on it.

Oh? What’s that? This all started because they commented their ship on one of your posts?

Wonderful!

That doesn’t excuse harassment or what you guys said no matter which way you look at it.

If you’re that upset at the mere mention of a ship, that’s on you.

That’s all I’m going to say, I don’t want to even see you try to defend yourselves. I have screenshots of the awful, hurtful things you’ve said. You don’t say stuff that can genuinely be triggering or just overall homophobic or hurtful statements and then proceed to get upset when called out on it.

“Oh but all the fics depict (insert the triggering thing here)!” You need to tag that stuff on Ao3 in a warning. Of the 224 fics in that ship that you can see when not logged in, only a measly 3 have that warning. Unfortunate that stories with that warning exist at all but saying “all fics” depict it is just not true and you know it.

I will not be responding to anything else regarding this topic, not in new posts, reblogs, or replies. Consider this my final post on the whole situation. Irregularly scheduled posting resumes whenever I want to post something (I usually make writing posts now and I write very irregularly aka whenever I feel like it)

Again, if you respect others opinions and don’t harass others over it, then move on with your day. This post doesn’t concern you.

I’m posting this now while everything’s still relatively fresh rather than posting it at another time and coming off as trying to stir everything up again.

I’m also posting this before I go to sleep so whatever ends up happening happens while I’m asleep.

#only tagging the ship because this is really only directed at a few people #again you know who you are #if you’re respectful this post doesn’t concern you #sabezra

[perfect-bi-paradise]

So lately I'm been getting messages asking why I'm so hard on asexuals and their homophobic attitudes. Well I was thinking about it and then this popped up for me on another platform...

The absolute audacity of asexuals and there homophobic holier than thou bigotry is perfectly reflected in this image. Seriously?! What. The. Fuck. There is so much wrong with this. The aids crisis being the defining moment for the lgbt? I mean it was largely a gay male issue as well as a major medical issue since people were still knowingly being given infected transfusions.

If anything was the defining moment for the lgbt, the gay rights movement and marriage equality was that moment. That was when the narrative and the movement succeeded and gays were finally equal. Not that asexuals care as I've seen more than once in real life they still sneer at same sex couples and label them as "disgusting".

The truth is most people really did not know how it spread in the beginning and abstinence was only one solution. Safer sex is and was still the answer to preventing the spread, not some smug ass "be like us" narrative. That's the same shit spread my homophobic purity culture, which is not welcomed or needed.

What really needs to happen is for asexuals to shut the f*ck up and stop trying to talk over and dictate the real LGBT community members, the very same people asexuals have such vitural disdain for in the first place. The same people asexuals would spit on without a second thought.

Asexual voices aren't welcomed when it comes to LGBT matters and your purity culture homophobia isn't needed either.

#lgbt #anti mogai #aces say the most homophobic shit #ace discourse #anti ace #battleaxe bi #asexuals shut up challenge #asexuals being gross again

[28whitepeonies]

Fucking hell I've just read a thesis on ‘why Larry can come out in 2023' and it made me really angry

There are three immediate thoughts I have on the first section:

If Harry wants to be Beyonce, how does he do that without the fantasy boyfriend market which would likely be destroyed by him entering into a public relationship with a man?

And how does Harry continue to sell out international stadium tours without that market? Because there isn't a comparable male singer out there who is doing it.

This whole thing centres around these fans perceptions of their success, and shows a real lack of understanding of how success in the music industry is actually achieved.

The audacity it takes to write shit like this: "HL and their teams seem to still be operating under the erroneous assumption that a public figure’s career will be over as soon as they come out." Truly, how could Harry, Louis or the experts on the industry around them possibly have a better perception of the risks associated with public queerness than you?

And this gem: "Further to this, fandom energy more broadly is also reflective of the level of stunts. This was observable how during heavy stunting by Holivia, the fandom was characterised by general exhaustion with a much reduced passion." - And isn't this period the same period in which Harry's fanbase had a total growth spurt? Stuff like this shows a really narrow lens and an over inflated sense of fandoms own importance

But be for fucking real with this: “Kit Connor - Prior to coming out he was the subject of controversy online for ‘queerbaiting’, which forced his coming out. However after coming out, the general public forgave him heartily, and he received such a huge energy of love and support. This was also extensively and positively covered in the media.” The kid was hounded and hounded into making a public statement about his sexuality. I’m sure he’s glad to know folk think he’s been forgiven and that it was all fine in the end.

And then by the point I got to this "- Top 5 regrets of the dying—the top two regrets were: 1) not living true to themselves, and 2) working too much. Harry and Louis are unfortunately doing both of these—by being closeted they are working too much with not being true to who they are. This is a life that people inevitably regret." I wanted to commit murder myself, imagine thinking you have the goddamn right to tell someone else what their regrets will be. Nevermind suggesting that you know better what the right life choices are of a stranger. That you know whether they’re being true to themselves or not and that you can pass judgement on that. I’m sorry to every single fucking queer person who reads that and this rationale of ‘omg the worlds not that homophobic any more you can come out now’ and internalises it. Nice job causing some real fucking harm.

So I’m having to finish this here and take myself for a walk before I yeet my laptop out the window x

#wow #is all I will add rn #I will have more thought on this #but I need some time to digest #fandom hell

[ctenophora]

The art community is literally dying

Recently I have seen way too many fanartists get hate for the way they draw/head canon characters from shows and its actually ironic when its mlp, because its supposed to be a show about friendship and kindness yet the people who "claim" to be defending them are always down right disrespectful and rude as hell.

having fun and making headcanons have lost its meaning in why people do it to the point people are so mad that a character that is portrayed with headcanons seems like its the worst thing a person can do to a character. it always has to be what they look like originally. the fact y'all have the audacity to be so racist, transphobic, homophobic and fatphobic over a headcanon, you guys need to log out and shut up.

it is honestly so annoying to me that no one can make art without some asshole tracing over their art work, or calling it a caricature. or making fun of it.

in a few years we'll all be twiddling our thumbs asking ourselves why fan art isn't around anymore? it's because of the hatred people are experiencing today on social media. YOU ARE GOING TO CAUSE THAT.

you guys forget why headcanons exist. why headcanons are just for fun. YOU do not HAVE to agree with someones headcanons YOU also do not HAVE THE RIGHTS to make fun of that persons headcanons, or say its wrong unless it is truly HATEFUL in anyway.

If YOU are so mad that you think your favorite wouldn't look like that DO IT YOURSELF. Everyone and their mamas have pen and paper, draw how you think your favorite would look and mind your own business. these talented artists sit here and spend days working on something that they relate to and hope other people do too just for people to criticize them unasked. why is that still happening today? if No one asked for help don't give help its so simple. keep words to yourself a child could follow this easier than grown ass adults can.

Theres always something wrong when people hate on someones art. we cant project anymore, we cant be inexperienced anymore, we cant show representation anymore. its always gotta be "They wouldn't look like that!" "why do they look like a man" "they look ugly"

or even worse telling people to die, and causing them to go private. have we not learned from pass situations!? so many young artists get depressed and broke down over comments that hurt their mental because you couldn't even keep something to yourself.

if you claim to actually be helping people, actually look to the people who whitewash poc characters, or make an originally plus size person thin. look at the actual problems instead of some random artists who wants to see their favorite look like them.

I literally was on twitter and someone drew pinkie pie plus size and with PCOS and everyone thought she looked like a racist caricature because "No black girl looks like that" congratulations welcome to earth. people look like that irl. people are so scared of someone being unconventionally attractive, its actually embarrassing how slow the progression of accepting people for how they look is going. we've gone no where. you people will always judge someone and know nothing about that person.

that other person on TikTok did not deserve their art getting traced over a bunch of times, y'all will get so scared over women having hair, welcome to how the body works hair and muscles exist on women too, women can look masculine and still identify as a woman, have we not learned from gender non comfirmity, and pronouns don't = gender tiktoks? have we also not learned from "Art lore" y'all are so disgusting, and hateful.

and Tina from kid vampire yall will be so scared over Tina being black or not being white, for why? the creator literally said they don't care. let people have fun. LEAVE THAT LITTLE GIRL ALONE AND LEAVE PPL WHO HC HER BLACK ALONE TOO. I promise you Tina is not about to jump out of the screen and say thank you. once again headcanons exist for a reason.

AND the fancast Rapunzel literally sit down and hear yourself right NOW.

for years through stories princesses have always been portrayed from a different culture in there own way, there was a German Rapunzel, a black Rapunzel a Korean Rapunzel, an indian Rapunzel. and so on

even Cinderella, a bunch of stories have been retold for different cultures for different people all around the world. it is not that serious.

your childhood is not being destroyed over some fancast, innocently made. wake up wipe off those crocodile tears and go into research on why you feel so much hatred for black and brown kids possibly getting representation in media.

#fandom headcanons #my little pony #pinkie pie #headcanons #twitter #tiktok #art lore #rant post #literally stfu if you are about to spill some bs in the comments I truly don't care like bruh. #representation #anti blackness

[wrathfulmercy]

Send 💬 + a rumor and my muse will react to it. - Rick hears a rumour Sam is dating someone (amusingly it's likely to be a rumour about seeing Sam seeing Rick, but let's just assume he thinks it's another man 😂))

Send 💬 + a rumor and my muse will react to it from here @mettleborn

“Sam? You gotta be joking.” Rick replied with his hand nervously tapping against the wooden table they were sitting on while Carlson couldn’t stop grinning about the tea he apparently just spilled. “I’m telling you! Thought he was the cunt kinda guy as well but… we all gotta make mistakes don’t we?” The way Carlson said it wasn’t actually homophobic or so Rick hoped but his damn stupid smirk before he drowned his whiskey wasn’t actually bringing any ease to Rick’s mind right now. No, he was pissed because he knew exactly that if these rumors were true and Sam was seeing someone - a guy - then it was serious. He tried to keep it cool but probably looked like someone just shit on his face, his scoff obviously an annoyed one he tried to overplay with a fake smile.

“Yeah, mistakes. We all make them.” Rick mumbled, thinking how he probably made the biggest one by falling for a man again and starting to trust him. In shame he hid behind his glass of bourbon as he suddenly noticed Sam coming into that same damn bar they were sitting in. This had to be a fucking joke, right? “Oh fuck me.” Rick cussed and added “Do we have an annual employee of the year meeting tonight or what?”

“Oh fuck he’s coming here, don’t mention it Grimes. You know how these stories need to stay a secret when it’s personal. I’m gonna head over to the bar, that chick over there looks just about right for me tonight.” Carlson got up and wasn’t only in a hurry cause he was scared to miss a new opportunity to fill his sheets tonight, but because he was probably scared that Sam would knock his teeth out if he found out about him spilling some facts. “Yeah, have fun.” Rick murmured more to himself and in that moment Sam had already reached his table with that damn adorable smile while Carlson was long gone.

“You here? Alone?” Rick asked as Sam sat down next to him, gaining nothing but a confused glare back. No, he couldn’t take it. Not tonight and not ever. Instead of letting the other man speak, Rick just waved him off and drowned the rest of his drink in an angry matter. “You know what? Just talk to someone else. Maybe to that sweet little lover you got yourself cause one is obviously not enough for the poor starving man you actually are.” In a provocative manner Rick smashed the glass on the table and got up, grabbing his coat from the chair to hide within its black fabric so he could disappear in the darkness not only the club but night provided outside.

He needed to breathe, ball his fists within his pockets before anybody would see this. This was fucking ridiculous. First he ran into fucking Carlson who was just another former partner he used to share a mission with, but then fucking Sam. Coming in looking gorgeous as ever and as if he just has the best fuck of his life that made him a little too happy for Rick’s taste. Fuck how much he hated that. Why did that man look so good? Why did he smile that way? Why the fuck did he have the audacity to come up to Rick as if he couldn’t wait to tell him about his new favorite lover? To hell with him.

“Mistake.” Rick cussed to himself in a teasing manner while he walked around the dark corner that led straight to his hotel room for the night. Man, this night should have looked different than that. Maybe he should start seeing other people too again? But what if he didn’t want to? Lost in thoughts and with eyes that suddenly started burning as if he was about to fucking cry over a man who should have been known to be a mistake, he didn’t realize as he suddenly bumped into another frame and only as he looked up to apologize firmly, he recognized the eyes that were staring at him still with the same confusion and maybe now filled with anger. “You gotta be fucking kidding me.” Rick rolled his eyes and stepped back, his hands secretly fiddling with nails digging into the flesh of his inner palm out of nervousness. “What do you want, Sam? Do you not have another fucking idiot to play with tonight?”

#Rick x Sam #v: assassin #listen girl I think I wrote trash here xD but I hope you like it anyways ❤️ #and I left the end open cause… why not having a thread with a big fight after all XD #answered meme

[bookishfeylin]

I don't want to accuse Sjm of Zionism, there is simply not enough evidence and it is a severe accusation because of the state of Palestine right now and can very easily be blatantly Anti-Semitic. But I do want to say with her track record of being racist, misogynistic, homophobic and with a tendency to write her white main characters as conquerers and colonizers (Its not confirmed but we can all get a picture of Feysand being primed for High King and Queen) it does rub me wrong.

Not to mention a lot of ToG has that same undertone. There's a conversation between Aelin and Rowan where they talk about conquering more lands after taking back Terrasen and she says that if she gets “bored of being queen she will conquer and gain more land to be empress". And once again I'm not saying this to accuse her of Zionism, but it doesn't feel right and Sjm is known to write in a way that mirrors her personal beliefs. I say this with only regards to her actions (through her writing) and not her beliefs as a Jewish woman.

There's nothing wrong with visiting her family in Israel, or even having a grandmother that still volunteers at a military base because that's her grandmother's actions and not hers. There is something wrong with the fact that she wrote Aelin as someone who's "taking back" her country and then contemplating conquering more. And Feysand possibly being High King and Queen when they treat PoC coded Illyrians like they're savages and you don't see them outside of the Mountains unless they're dying for Rhysand on the battlefield. It just all feels very colonizer to me.

I hope I'm not coming off as rude, the issue of Palestine is very close to my heart and reading ToG and Acotar and seeing some things mirrored in them has always kind of remained unsettled with me and I would love to hear your opinion on it.

Hi anon! Nope, you’re not rude! :) So a big disclaimer: I am a Black American. Any analysis I can offer on this is through that lens, fortunately or unfortunately. That being said:

While the pro-imperialist, pro-colonialist, and pro-"both sides" themes PERMEATING Sarah's writing do likely point to her beliefs or biases (even unconscious, internalized ones she has), so do the artistic works of many white creators, often in way worse and way more blatant ways than Sarah's books. How many of tumblr's beloved “children’s shows” feature the imperialist/colonizers/genocide committing villains be shown as redeemable, as sympathetic, and worthy of redemption while simultaneously declaring any victims of colonization/genocide who have the audacity to fight back as the REAL bad guy, or just as bad as their oppressors? And not just children’s shows—so much media in general has this same theme, where the colonizers are more redeemable than the colonized, often including a cautionary tale warning oppressed peoples to “be careful” in our liberation efforts so we don’t become “just as bad.” (See my on media tag for a lot of discussion on this, among other things.) Our media—our books, our television shows, our movies— are, unfortunately, FULL of colonizer/imperialist apologia. Full of some “they’re human too!” nonsense that I am TIRED of having shoved down my throat. My point is, Sarah's writing is more likely due to her being a white woman in western society rather than any support of what’s happening to Palestinians. She’s one white creator among many, and merely exists as a symptom of a greater problem in our society and white fans who argue that pointing this out and critiquing this disgusting trope of “oppressor is redeemable and sympathetic and HUMAN but oppressed aren’t” in their favorite cartoon is being a ~toxic anti puritan~ make this worse. So does her writing point to her own biases about the nature of oppression? Yes, but in a way that appears to be no different than most media made by white people in the West, and unrelated to her thoughts on the Israel-Palestine conflict specifically. But yes please be unsettled because these ideas are ALARMINGLY present in media.

#i hope I came off as nice??? I truly was trying to be very polite in my response #I just think her problematic writing is more due to her having biases like nearly every other white creator #And I don’t like jumping to ‘her works suggest she might support israel’ #On media #SJM critical #anti sjm #anti acotar #ask #anon

[barbiegirldream]

So let me see if I can wrap my head around this correctly. From the perspective of a Queer POC boob:

Ranboo can look at a bunch of threads of, essentially, a non issue of POC twt fans whining and pissing their pants because a closeted Queer person chose to actively help a community he was more familiar with than a community he would no absolutely NOTHING about (and would probably have some horrid ass takes like Tubbo/Phil did about the slap shit, eugh), but somehow feign ignorance and even JOKE about the rapant Queerphobia going on in his community, especially towards one of his supposed "close" friends- not even at least TRY to say to be kind towards him or others, even if you don't like him (Thank You Wilb, god bless) AND have the audacity to ignore the countless people sending him the thread, when it didn't even take HOURS for him to notice those threads by Pissbaby POC, and even address it not once- but THREE TIMES (Discord, Twitter, and Twitch).

But somehow. Someway, Dream's fans (I'm not even gonna dignify with Stans because at that point, this term is just derogatory for me) are the ones who bend over backwards for a white man who what? Isn't labeled? Doesn't even know where he falls on the spectrum, but still tries to at least acknowledge the hardships- no marter how minor- that his fans go through w/ the rampant Homophobia/Queerphobia going on in the world? Even taking pot shots at Chic-fil-A? A company who was outted for actively funding Anti-LGBT groups????

"BUT THE KKK/ISLAMPHOBIC EDIT-" At least that edit was years old and Dream- whether he made it or not- owned up to it and apologized to both groups one way or another.

"BUT THE DRUGS DRUGS TWEET-" Was made months ago and wasn't even making fun of Black People, let alone even targeting a specific Group to make fun of- but he still apologized for anyway.

I feel like I've been a huge fan of the wrong mf, I'll take the white prev. conservative Queer man who actually knows when shits fucked vs the White Queer man who actively was teetering the lines before activing his "Queer" trap card (not even an exaggeration either).

mhm I think what's different mainly is Dream had to put in the work. He was raised with no background in how to be supportive of the type of community he ended up fostering. That being poc, women, nd people, queer people, jewish and Islamic people. But he wants to be so he listens to his fans and he has an open line of communication with them. If you dm him a concern about something serious it's really likely you get a reply directly.

And Dream does respond to everything like literally everything he responds to. And if he thinks an apology is in order he gives one. He did address the edit for eight minutes and apologized for it directly. With the drugs drugs tweet he said he had no intentions of fostering harmful stereotypes so he deleted his tweet he got what people were worried about. Because he listens one thing Dream has always advocated for is the opportunity we as an online international community have to listen to one another and learn from one another.

But Ranboo doesn't want to put in the work. He thinks recognizing that he's white is enough to be anti racist it's not. He thinks being gay means he can't be homophobic it doesn't. Ranboo is 18 and I think he absolutely can grow and improve but it's a little upsetting to see he's so opposed to actual criticism he would let a friend and fellow cc be harassed by his own fans. Like someone tell Ranboo that Dream isn't responding to things because they're being spammed at him but because he wants to foster a better community and knows open communication is the best way to do it.

#discourse #long post

[daughter-of-sapph0]

so there was this video where op was pointing out how this comment "if cis people were a minority saying they didn't like to be called that [cishet], it'd be respected" is a homophobic dogwhistle. hence the emojis. and this guy made a comment which I assumed was in good faith and just out of ignorance "you have cishet. so does that mean you also have trans het? and what about gay? cishomo? and gayhomo?

so I informed him that "yes. although it's usually 'cis gau and trans gay'." because transhet is an actual term used in the queer community. the other two are too, just not as much.

and he responded "then why cishet and not cis straight? seems odd to change naming conventions". at this point I start to think that he's possibly a little bit homophobic since he hates the term "het" but is perfectly fine with calling other people "homos" unprompted

so I tell him "I don't know. I didn't come up with it. I do know that homo has been used as a slur for decades. het or hetero hasn't." calling him out on his use of the word homo

he responds "true, but pretty much every word for being gay was a slur, including the term gay".

like, what kinda gotcha is that "haha you idiot, you don't want to be called a carpet munching dyke, but you're okay with me calling you a lesbian even though that was a slur?!"

so I called him out on that. I said "you know enough about queer history to know that every word we use to describe ourselves was once an insult, but not enough to know about reclaiming words? pretty much all of the queer community is okay with straight people calling us gay. pretty much no one is okay with you calling us a homo" at this point I'm actively calling out his use of the term earlier, because I'm starting to suspect more and more it wasn't out of ignorance and good faith

he responds "how does the straight community feel about being called cishet" and here's where I know he's homophobic. "straight community"?! the fucking "straight community"??!! straight people are not a community. they are a majority. also, straight people aren't being called cishet. cishet people are. because cishet refers to people who are cisgender and heterosexual. because there are straight people who aren't cis, and cis people who aren't straight. but both those groups of people are still queer. cishet refers to the majority of people who aren't queer, most of whom are our oppressors. cishets are not oppressed.

so I tell him "cishet people aren't oppressed, murdered, made illegal, beaten, raped, or electrocuted until they're straight. I think they can handle being called an adjective"

he starts going on a rant about how we should "respect everyone" saying "so you only have to respect someone if they are oppressed?" completely missing the point that calling someone a cishet is not disrespectful and not at all comparable to oppression.

so I say "how the fuck is the term cishet disrespectful? it's literally an adjective. queer people are currently being painted as sexual deviants, and you're mad at a fucking word?"

so he says "I don't know why a straight person would be upset with cishet. but some of them certainly are. does respect need to be justified". again, it's not disrespectful. it an adjective that perfectly describes them. also, I know why they're upset with being calling called cishet

"they're upset being they're homophobic and don't like being labeled as 'other'. the same way racists don't like being called white." I would have gave more examples, like antisemites who hate being called goyim, or racist us americans who hate being called gringo. but tiktok comment character limits are too short.

so I call him out on the bullshit of implying that the people who hating being called cishet (transphobes and homophobes) deserve my respect. I say "are you saying I should show respect to the people who oppress me?

and he has the fucking audacity to say "wouldn't the polite thing be to show respect to all people? arbitrarily respecting is how homophobic ppl justify their bigotry" and then puts his stupid little emoji at the end.

at this point I'm fucking done. I'm tired of his homophobic bullshit. I make a comment mocking him saying "'just be nice to the people who want to kill you'" and say "homophobes don't care if I'm a little bit nicer to them. they don't care if I'm a raging mean dyke or a happy neighbor. they want me dead either way".

respect is a fucking joke to these people. they see respect as a resource that you have to give out in copious amounts before you see any in return. they think that no matter what, anyone can do anything to earn respect. and if someone doesn't respect you, you have to respect them really hard until they do.

that's not how the real world works. you don't automatically respect everyone. and you certainly don't give anyone respect if they oppress you. I am not ever going to be respectful to my oppressors. because no matter how respectful I am to them, they will always want me dead.

"well maybe you should just try being nicer to.." maybe you should eat a handful of bees. shut the fuck up

#dostxt #homophobia #transphobia

[seiya-starsniper]

and if I get burned, at least we were electrified - Chapter 1

On their next meeting, Hob realizes the pattern.

The man (vampire? werewolf? some otherworldly being?) comes after Hob every 100 days. The irony of this is not lost on Hob. Of course Hob would end up with not one, but two mysterious otherworldly strangers with a penchant for refusing to give Hob their names, forcing him to come up with nicknames in his head. He can’t very well name them Stranger 1 and Stranger 2 though, so Hob decides that his centennial friend will remain The Stranger, and his new unintended sparring partner is now Murder Stalker.

---

Hob Gadling interrupts The Corinthian in the middle of a murder and explodes him back to The Dreaming. The Corinthian comes back for revenge. Hob keeps finding new ways to blow him up. At some point, it becomes something more.

Aka enemies to fuck-buddies to lovers.

Keep reading below, or read here on AO3

Hob Gadling is not sure what drove him to take a smoke near the dilapidated White Horse tavern instead of just outside The New Inn, but he’s now wishing he'd stuck closer to civilization as he would’ve completely avoided the mess he’s currently in.

It had been a late night at The New Inn, as end of semester time tends to be. It’s his worst kept secret to his students that he tends the bar there, and without fail, he always ends up entertaining a handful of them on the last day of finals. Hob’s glad he’s popular with his students, it not only keeps him gainfully employed, but also brings him an indescribable sense of achievement, knowing that he’s affecting so many young minds so positively. 

He’s riding high on the feeling of a semester well done, so he decides it's a great time to take a walk when he dips outside for a smoke after his students leave. This deviation from his normal routine is exactly how he finds himself witness to a murder.

When Hob thinks about it later, he realizes the area is fairly secluded, The New Inn is just far away enough, and loud enough, that no one would hear any sort of scuffle, or hell, even screams. Not to mention the old White Horse demolition site, which people generally avoid like the plague at night, is just steps away, making it more than an ideal place to hide a body if need be. 

But he has no time in the present to think about these things, because he’s rushing in to save some poor bloke that’s just been stabbed with his pants around his ankles.

Hob thinks at first the poor man is the victim of some homophobic attack, but upon coming face to face with the man’s attempted murderer, Hob concludes there is absolutely no way the blond in front of him is heterosexual.

He looks like he just walked off a spread in GQ magazine, incredibly fit and with bed-mussed hair. He’s wearing a tailored beige suit and also, bewilderingly, the darkest shades Hob has ever seen on anyone, in the absolute dead of night. Hob thinks the man must be blind, but he's quickly disavowed of the notion when he tries to wrestle the knife out of the man's hands.

Hob realizes very quickly the man is a lot faster than he is, even with the quick reflexes he's developed over the centuries. Hob briefly wonders if his reflexes really aren't as fast as he thought, or maybe he's just drunk, then decides it doesn't matter because he's completely overpowered either way.

The man slashes a deep line in Hob’s throat, and he collapses as he begins to choke on his own blood. No matter how many times Hob gets stabbed, shot, or broken down, he can never get used to the pain that comes with each new injury. Immortality may have its fair share of perks, but pain tolerance is definitively not one of them. 

The bespectacled man looks all together far too pleased at his handiwork because he stares for a few seconds watching Hob gurgle through his blood, and then he has the audacity to lick his lips. It would be a downright sinful look at literally any other time, and Hob hates himself for still finding a literal murderer attractive while he’s bleeding all over his favorite shirt.

Seemingly satisfied with his handiwork, the blonde man turns around and returns to his work on his original victim. Hob can hear the telltale squelching as knife meets flesh and he realizes through his otherwise hazy vision that he's removing the other man's left eye while he is still alive.

Hob wants to throw up but forces himself to lay still, willing his breathing to be as quiet as possible to not alert the murderer barely a few meters away from him. He’s sure that the other man is too engrossed in his task to notice that Hob has stopped struggling to breathe, but even if he did, he probably would have just thought Hob eventually bled out. When Hob feels his vision begin to clear and the wound on his throat close up just enough to allow him the shallowest of breaths, he looks around to see what he can utilize to stop the man from continuing his gruesome activities. 

Hob ends up putting together a crude Molotov cocktail, utilizing his torn bloody shirt, a lighter in his front pocket, and some discarded bottles near his feet that blessedly still have their vodka inside them. He knows it's a long shot because the man moves far too fast to be purely human, but Hob's been around long enough to know most things, mortal or not, are not immune to fire. Hob sends a mental plea to whatever deity may be out there looking out for him, and then uses the last of his strength to chuck the crudely thrown together bomb at the man's back.

The man doesn't quite burn up the way a human being might. He screams at a pitch Hob’s never heard before when he realizes what’s struck him, and then suddenly his body is just….disintegrating? Except that's not quite right, either, all Hob knows is that the man is there one moment, gone the next, and there's no body, or even the smell of burning flesh to prove he was ever there. 

The only thing that remains of the mysterious serial killer is his dark round sunglasses, which Hob crushes under his boot in a moment of pettiness. Then he pulls out his phone and calls for emergency services. 

The constable stares at him suspiciously while Hob gives his statement, but there’s no murder weapon and Hob manages to cover up the stab tears in his shirt with a cardigan he keeps in his bag. Absolutely everything of Hob's is now soaked in blood, which makes him even more suspicious looking, but there's clearly no defensive wounds on him thanks to his expedited healing, so the police eventually buy his story that he came upon a man bleeding to death and tried his best to resuscitate him.

Unfortunately the poor bloke is long dead by the time he’s hauled into the ambulance. He's lost too much blood, and he’s missing an eye, and the thought that this mysterious murderer did not fully complete the job he set out to do should not spark something dark in Hob's ego, but it does. It's just as well though that the man died anyways, Hob's not sure the man would be able to process the sheer fuckery of what's happened tonight, his death covers up his murderer as much as it does Hob’s immortality.

Hob makes a note to look up demon exorcists when he gets home, then collapses on the bed, the adrenaline of fighting for his life having worn off. He decides he'll just burn the sheets and his clothes in the morning before he drifts off to a dreamless sleep.

Thank God tomorrow is Saturday.

—

When the blond man reappears, Hob is both surprised and not at the same time. He knew the man was not dead, but he also hadn't been expecting to see him so soon after their first encounter.

He's also not entirely surprised the man has tracked him to The New Inn. Hob's on a smoke break and as he lights up his cigarette, he notices the man smiling at him in the shadows from behind a brand new, not crushed, pair of dark rimmed glasses. Hob has barely a second to react before he’s staring down the long blade of a dagger that's far too close to his right eye. Hob briefly mourns the loss of his cigarette (they're so expensive these days), thanks his lucky stars he brought his coat with him, and pulls out his own weapon hidden within.

Hob doesn't believe in leaving things up to chance. He knows the man saw his face and he also knows the man is some sort of supernatural entity, and the buggers are a lot more resourceful than your standard run of the mill human. So Hob knows he's a marked man and frankly, anyone would be pretty pissed to be exploded back to Hell, or wherever this guy came from. For all that Hob is immortal, he can still be hurt or captured, and he hasn't lived all this time without running into a few of the things that go bump in the night, as well as the various ways to get rid of them.

Hob was woefully unprepared last time for his encounter with the blonde supernatural murderer. This time, Hob's got a few tricks up his sleeve, courtesy of the descendent of one Lady Johanna Constantine, who, hilariously enough, shares a name with her great -great-great-great grandmother.

"You're not going to be sending anything back to Hell with that horrible accent of yours," the blond mocks, blade barely missing Hob's check. Hob honestly thought he knew what type of being he was, but the man only laughs when he tries to douse him in holy water, and what the hell is wrong with his pronunciation anyways?!

Hob had spent the last 3 and a half months practicing dodging daggers and he's still too slow to match the other man blow for blow. Hob prepared for the eventuality of none of his carefully laid plans working but he's still so angry that not only has none of it worked, but that the blonde also finds his efforts so fruitless that he has time to mock him.

"Horrible accent, says the American," Hob shoots back disdainfully, shoving his blade towards the other man and missing spectacularly. Hob’s going to need new sparring partners if he hopes to survive any future knife fights with him. 

The man laughs again and Hob wills himself to not imagine that laugh in a different situation. He really, really needs to get out more if he's still finding himself attracted to a being that is currently trying its damnedest to cut his eyes out.

Hob knows for all his immortality, his stamina still has a limit, and he’s close to reaching it. The man must be able to tell too, because he redoubles his efforts to get at Hob’s eyes, and he’s so focused on that task that he doesn’t notice the talisman Hob’s able to stick on him when he gets just a little too close. Hob whispers one final spell, and even behind the shades, he can tell the man’s eyes widen in shock once he realizes what Hob has done. 

Hob smirks as the man is ripped apart, returning to wherever it is he goes when he needs to regenerate his body. He may not be a demon, but protection talismans still had their uses against him, and Hob makes a mental note to go reach out to that lovely coven of witches he happened upon in Edmonton. 

He's also going to have to tell Johanna that nope, the eye stealing murderer he's dealing with is not a standard demon from Hell. He's already dreading the conversation. Johanna's initial help had not come cheap for Hob and he just knows she's going to charge some exorbitant price from him to do additional research.

—

The third time they meet, the man is angry. Hob takes advantage of his less precise movements and leads him away from The New Inn, closer to the secluded area near The White Horse, where they first met. He eventually wrestles the blonde into a pair of iron forged handcuffs. They don't burn at the man's wrists, which confirms he isn't Fey, but they also don't break apart no matter how hard the man tugs at them. Hob did forge them himself, thank you very much, so he knows that even the strongest human would be hard pressed to break them without the aid of some extreme force.

“Pretty kinky,” the man says, flexing the cuffs behind his back. “Didn’t think we were at this stage of our relationship Robert.”

Hob knows it shouldn’t shock him that the man knows his name, he did track him down at his place of employment for Christ’s sake, but the surprise must show on his face because the blonde stranger laughs. 

“Of course I know your name, sweetheart," he says in the most condescending American drawl Hob has ever heard in his life. "I’ve been thinking about sinking my knife into you all day and all night.”

Hob very pointedly ignores the double entendre and reminds himself that eyeball stealing murderers do not make for good bed partners.

“Little unfair of you to know my name, when I don't know yours, sweetheart,"  Hob shoots back and he swears he sees a little shiver go down the blonde man's back at the pet name, even if it was delivered sarcastically.

"Tsk tsk Robert, no wonder your little tricks aren't working on me, you don't even know who or what I am," he goads, clearly enjoying having the upper hand in knowledge.

“Well, if you’re not willing to tell me that, then I guess I’ll just have to find something else about you,” Hob says and reaches for the blonde man’s glasses. The resounding snarl is so ferocious, Hob forgets himself and stumbles backwards in fear. The man must be sensitive about his eyes, because the next thing Hob knows, the cuffs are broken and it’s a race against time to see who can recover their weapons the fastest.  

Hob manages to launch an old grenade from his war days at the man as he picks up his signature knives, and the resulting explosion is loud enough to shake The White Horse. Hob doesn’t stick around for the aftermath but he hears the sirens in the distance as he hurries home as discreetly as possible.

—----

On their next meeting, Hob realizes the pattern.

The man (vampire? werewolf? some otherworldly being?) comes after Hob every 100 days. The irony of this is not lost on Hob. Of course Hob would end up with not one, but two mysterious otherworldly strangers with a penchant for refusing to give Hob their names, forcing him to come up with nicknames in his head. He can’t very well name them Stranger 1 and Stranger 2 though, so Hob decides that his centennial friend will remain The Stranger, and his new unintended sparring partner is now Murder Stalker. 

Hob has also tried to ply Johanna with information about The Stranger, but he had even less information on the man he’d been meeting for drinks over the centuries than he did on the man currently trying to harvest his organs. It's rather depressing. Johanna had also made fun of him for his physical description of The Stranger and told him "Mate, if I had a shilling for every dark-haired, dreary, brooding supernatural being roaming around London alone, I'd be a goddamn millionaire!"

So yeah. Hob's not doing too great in terms of the research regarding either of the supernatural entities he's somehow found himself embroiled with.

He also tried looking up supernatural entities that eat eyes but all he got was some Quora article on a recurring nightmare some people seem to be having about having their eyeballs eaten. Hob knows not to discount the power of dreams, he's met one or two genuine psychics who have shared their dream visions with him, but something tells him his Murder Stalker probably isn't some nightmare come to life in the real world.

Probably. Hob's never heard of dreams and nightmares becoming corporeal beings, but after everything he's seen in the last decade alone, it's as good of a theory as anything.

Back to the present predicament though.

Hob is currently attempting to wrap a silver chain around his still unnamed Murder Stalker, and all he gets for his trouble is delighted, mocking laughter.

"Jewelry? For me? I'm more of a gold man myself, Robert, but I won't ever say no to silver."

And with that, the man yanks the chain right out of Hob's hands and wraps it loosely around his neck, completely throwing out the theory of werewolf or vampire. Hob curses his impulsive purchase of silver bullets, but Johanna had been very persuasive when she'd sold them to him. He also may have been a little (a lot) more drunk than he'd intended. Damn the woman and her insane alcohol tolerance.

Hob wonders if he can get a refund, then decides he'd have more luck trying to convince his Murder Stalker to give up killing entirely and move with him to a farm in Surrey and take up sheep herding.

He's broken out his thoughts by the sound of a blade hurtling through the air and Hob has enough time to barely avoid taking a knife to his fucking eye. The blade nicks his ear, and takes some hair with it before it lands in the tree behind him.

Maybe he should start wearing protective eyewear in the near future.

"I thought you wanted my eyes intact, you maniac!" he yells, barely avoiding a second dagger that comes straight at his face.

"Not my fault that you're not paying attention!" his Murder Stalker yells back, the feral grin Hob’s grown used to back on his face. 

Hob thinks that just for that he’s going to be petty. It’s not like he has any other blindingly good ideas in his arsenal for today anyways, so he yanks the first knife out of the tree, whispers a quick spell into it and throws it back at the man. It explodes spectacularly in his hands when he flawlessly catches it, just like Hob expected him to.

Hob smiles as the man starts to disintegrate, then remembers an entirely different theory he'd wanted to test out just for shits and giggles, and yells, “See you in 100 days Corinthian!” right as the man disappears.

—

"How did you know it was me?" The Corinthian asks him the next time they meet, curiosity evident in his voice.

Hob grins. “I didn't. But thanks for confirming!” He gets a slash to his thigh for his troubles.

“It was really just a lucky guess,” he continues, trying to distract The Corinthian while he works to set up a rather complex spell. It is by far his most outlandish attempt to determine what kind of being the man is. “I was up late one night and one of those terrible American true crimes shows had a whole episode on The Corinthian! Everyone thinks it's just a legacy passed down from one serial killer to another but it's just been you all along, hasn't it?”

The smile Hob receives from the blonde is absolutely blinding. Who knew otherworldly beings just wanted acknowledgement for their accomplishments, just like everyone else? 

“Look at that, little Robert finally figured something out about me, took you long enough,” the man (no, The Corinthian, he finally has a name) says.  

“Cut me some slack!” Hob shoots back. There, the trap is finally set. “Some of us have other full time obligations to tend to, we can’t all just be running around murdering people.”

Hob really hopes no one at The New Inn will question why nearly all the salt that was supposed to last for the rest of month is suddenly, inexplicably, just gone. He’s already ordered a new batch that’s supposed to come in next week. In the meantime, the chips will just have to suffer being on the bland side.

When he lights the salt circle on fire, he can really only hope that no one thinks to call the fire brigade on him. The poor White Horse tavern is supposed to be preserved as a historical site, for fucks’ sake, and here Hob is, using it as his own personal supernatural fight club.

The Corinthian looks around his supposed trap, unimpressed.

“Do I look like an eldritch horror to you, Robert?” he sneers, kicking the salt away and dissolving months worth of effort in seconds. 

Hob shrugs. “I’m running out of otherworldly beings you could possibly be. And I actually haven’t confirmed whether or not you’re hiding some slimy tentacles under that coat of yours. All I know is that you love to murder, do questionable things with eyeballs, and everytime I blow you up, you don’t come back for 100 days. Why every 100 days anyways?"

"I don’t have to tell you a damn thing," The Corinthian bites back, and yep, he most definitely offended at being mistaken for an elder god with tentacles. Hob pointedly does not think about whether or not tentacles would be a deal breaker for him.

“I’ll show you a horror,” the Corinthian threatens, and Hob kicks his backup plan into action. He’s never made a flour bomb before, but the general idea is pretty simple. Flour dust and a spark. Hob grabs the second knife The Corinthian had thrown at him and aims it at the discarded bag of flour he’d left sitting atop the roof of the White Horse the night before. While The Corinthian is distracted and coughing up the unexpected spray of flour on his person, Hob flicks on his lighter and tosses it towards the blonde.

He’s pretty sure he can hear The Corinthian cursing at him through the explosion for ruining his coat.

Hob adds flour to his to-buy list and whistles while walking back to The New Inn.

—

On the 6th meeting (Who's counting? Certainly not Hob), The Corinthian finds him in a rather precarious position. Hob never thought he’d be glad to see The Corinthian of all people, but really, anything beats having to become an experiment for some crazy occultists who seem to think drinking his blood and harvesting his organs are going to make them live forever.

There's six of them and one of Hob, and although he holds his own in a fight with them for a good hour thanks to all the stamina he's gained while fighting The Corinthian, Hob knows he is still outnumbered. He’s starting to lose hope that he can avoid being forced to where they want to take him, but his prayers are answered in the form of a vengeful blonde, who clearly does not take kindly to his recurring meeting being interrupted by outsiders.

Between the two of them, Hob’s able to take down two men while The Corinthian manages the other four. Hob doesn’t even feel bad that they’re all dead, the better the message to send to any other potential cults that may or may not be following him around. He kicks the body of one of the occultists just for good measure.  

“Fuck these men, do whatever you want with their eyes, they got what's coming to them,” Hob says, not even bothering to hide the disdain in his tone. “Stupid fucking cultists.” Hob’s been around long enough to be hunted by more than a few cults, and he knows that they know nothing other than their own selfish greed. He’s lost more than a few good friends to cultists, so he feels absolutely zero remorse for their deaths and for letting The Corinthian harvest their eyes.

Hob’s snapped out of his dark thoughts towards the cultists when he hears The Corinthian’s knives cutting through flesh and Hob’s curiosity gets the better of him. He turns just in time to see two very aggressive eye mouths slurp up one of the dead man's eyeballs in one, two, three quick bites.

The Corinthian looks up from his snack and grins at Hob with all three mouths, his face bare for the first time in front of Hob. His glasses are tucked into his front coat pocket, and his cheeks are covered in a mixture of eye vitreous and blood. His tongue darts out absently to catch the liquid nearest his lips, and Hob, to his horror, finds the sight the most erotic thing he's ever seen in his life.

Well then.

The Corinthian almost immediately registers Hob's arousal, and his grin somehow grows even more feral. In between one step and the next he's suddenly crowding Hob up against the nearest flat surface, which happens to be the back exterior wall of The White Horse, and then he’s licking into his mouth while pressing his thigh in between Hob’s legs. Hob finds himself grabbing a fistful of blonde hair in one hand, The Corinthian’s ass in the other and yes, that’s just about as firm as he’d imagined it in his dirtiest fantasies alone in his flat.

In the dead of night, there's nothing but the sounds of their frantic panting and hips rutting against one another fully clothed. Hob is pretty sure the Corinthian doesn't even need to breathe, the bastard, but Hob does and he uses the opportunity to nip at The Corinthian's lip in warning when he pulls back.

"For the record, if you even try to take my eyeballs…" Hob starts, getting ready for a fight to erupt, but the Corinthian only laughs and kisses the rest of his sentence away.

"Yes, yes, you'll blow me to kingdom come and then some, I know the drill baby," he replies breathily, and begins to suck a deep bruise into Hob's throat. Hob is pretty sure he's using more than one mouth down there and he just somehow knows sex with The Corinthian is just going to absolutely ruin him for any other partners for the future, possibly forever. 

When he's satisfied with the frankly massive hickey he leaves on Hob's throat, The Corinthian pulls away and sends him a grin that has heat shooting straight down his spine.

"Besides," he adds, "I've had my fill in the eye department, what I want from you is going to be so much more fun," and the purr in those last few words is enough for Hob to make the executive decision to not have his first time with this gorgeous creature be in the middle of a pile of dead bodies, no matter how fitting the motif. The Corinthian deserves to be worshiped on a bed, and Hob is all too willing to sacrifice his own mattress if it means he gets more than a quickie in the back of a crumbling inn. 

"I've got a flat not far from here," he pants in between kisses.

"Ooo inviting me to your home, Robert? How dangerous." The Corinthian replies, his tone dark and inviting.

"As long as you promise not to get things too bloody, you're welcome to stay,” Hob says, and he finds that he means it.

"Good to know we can negotiate some blood play, baby, come on, take me home,” The Corinthian purrs and Hob doesn’t need to be told twice. The walk to his flat is mostly a blur, but once they reach their destination, The Corinthian does not hesitate to bodily push Hob into his bedroom.

Hob's thankful for his flat above The New Inn for a multitude of reasons. It's not only close to where he and The Corinthian meet every 100 days for their fight, but Hob's had the floors and walls soundproofed to block all the noise that comes from downstairs, making it also ideal for him and the Corinthian to be as loud and violent as they want.

The Corinthian is just as dominating in bed as he when he fights, and Hob comes so hard he's pretty sure he sees God. He has a brief thought that The Corinthian could probably take his eyes now and Hob wouldn't even notice, but one look at the other man tells him he's just as blissed as Hob from their lovemaking.

It doesn't last. 

Within 10 minutes of their mutual climaxes, The Corinthian is scrambling around for his discarded clothing. When he's fully dressed, he delivers a brutal kiss to Hob's still bruised mouth before waltzing towards the door. 

"See you in 100 days baby," The Corinthian coos and then in the blink of an eye he's gone and Hob is left alone in his flat.

It's the first time The Corinthian has left Hob by his own will and with all his body parts intact.

Hob lets his head fall back on his pillow and thinks to himself that he is totally fucked in the head.

Johanna is going to have a field day when Hob next talks to her.

—--

They fuck like rabbits the next three meetings. It's quite possibly the best sex Hob has ever experienced in his almost 700 years of life. The meetings always start the same, The Corinthian tries to kill him, Hob somehow subdues him (it's the cuffs, it's always the cuffs) and then instead of exploding the serial killer back to wherever he came from, Hob drags the man upstairs to his flat above The New Inn. Sometimes the blonde opens up for him like a flower, allowing Hob to tease him within an inch of his life. Other times, it's The Corinthian who sets the pace, and it's always brutal and unrelenting. He nearly bends Hob in half when he thrusts into him, and Hob loves every second.

He hadn't ever considered it before, but now that he's been with the Corinthian more than a few times, Hob realizes that he's glad to finally have a bed partner that knows the full lengths of his immortality. The Corinthian Isn't afraid to be just on the other side of rough and painful during sex, and Hob does his damn best to give as good as he gets.

On their tenth meeting, The Corinthian doesn't even make an attempt to try to slaughter Hob for his eyes first, he simply corners him in the alley behind The New Inn during a smoke break, and bites his way into his mouth. Hob’s barely lit cigarette is crushed underneath their feet, and he thinks that if The Corinthian were trying to get him to quit smoking, this was a fantastic way to go about it.

It's only after he goes back inside and someone screams upon seeing him that he realizes The Corinthian smeared blood all over his clothes. Blood Hob knows doesn’t belong to his supernatural fuckbuddy. His stomach sinks at the thought of some poor innocent being used as foreplay for the two of them and resolves to tell off the blonde in their next meeting. He'd rather go back to their old arrangement and risk his own immortal life than add to the already extensive body count he knows The Corinthian keeps growing (maybe, just maybe, Hob has an extensive file on The Corinthian and all his murders overseas and in the UK).

When Hob turns on the news a few days later, it's to a breaking report of a known child molester being fished out of the river with no eyes. 

Hob weighs the pros and cons of the knowledge, and decides that one less terrible person on the street isn't the worst price to pay for one of the best orgasms of his life.

He still decides against telling Johanna Constantine of his new arrangement with The Corinthian. She'd reacted poorly to his last story and called him a lunatic for even entertaining the man in his bed.

"Next time you even think about that eye fucker," she had berated him over a round of drinks, "You must think instead, WWJD: What Would Johanna Do? And I can tell you, she would not fuck a demon!"

"But he's not a demon, remember? The exorcism didn't work!"

"Not the fucking point Hob. Not the fucking point at all."

—

While waiting for their eleventh meeting, Hob decides to do a bit of research.

When he’d finally confirmed The Corinthian’s identity, Hob had absolutely devoured all the information he could about the United States’s most prolific serial killer. His murders date back almost a century, and there’s thousands of theories on whether The Corinthian is actually a family of murderers or some sort of cult. 

If only they knew the truth. 

The victims had started out quite randomly, as serial killers tended to do. A schoolteacher here, an office worker there. Hob finds that while plenty of the victims are homosexual men, there are some women thrown in there too. Never any children though. Interesting. 

But as Hob goes through the reports on The Corinthian's latest killings, he notices a markedly different trend dating back to…oh just short of a year and a half after he and Hob had begun to meet regularly. 

As far as Hob (and the general news) can tell, The Corinthian right now is only exclusively hunting down other known criminals. Some of which are other serial killers the police themselves have had trouble tracking down. In fact, were it not for The Corinthian carving out their eyes and leaving their bodies lying around, there’s a chance those same killers would still be on the loose.

Huh. Well then.

—

“Been noticing a lot of dead criminals missing their eyes lately, had a change of heart?” Hob asks one night after a surprisingly vanilla bout in the sheets. There hadn’t been any stabbing attempts this time. Progress.

The Corinthian hums in consideration as he pulls his coat on. “No, they just happen to be my favorite types lately.”

“Favorite? And only lately?”

The Corinthian grins and nips at Hob’s neck affectionately.

"You've made me realize I like it when my food fights back." Then, considering the discussion closed, the blonde moves to leave. 

Hob, in what can only be described as a moment of insanity, grabs The Corinthian sleeve and says "Stay."

"Stay?"

—

The Corinthian stays the night. Hob uses his tongue to convince him to stay another night. On the third night, The Corinthian leaves with no warning and Hob wonders if his type isn't just men who are allergic to attachment. At least this time he's getting a little bit more out of the arrangement, but his heart feels heavy all the same.

To both their surprises, The Corinthian doesn't even make it the next 100 days before their next encounter. He shows up to Hob's flat in the middle of one of the worst rain storms of the summer, looking like a drowned cat.

Hob immediately knows something is different, and while the logical part of him is screaming Danger! Murderer! Do not engage! Hob's feet move backwards to let The Corinthian into his flat. He peels the man's wet coat off him and settles him onto the couch, then goes to the kitchen to make a cup of tea.

The silence between them is heavy.

"I'm glad you're here. I've missed you," Hob tries for casualness even though he can feel his hands shaking. Holding back from touching The Corinthian is one of the hardest things in the world, he thinks.

The Corinthian snorts. "You've missed me? Pretty bold of you to say to the man that's been trying to disembowel you for the better part of a decade.” Hob hasn’t heard The Corinthian’s defensive tone in quite a while. It’s surprising, but with the way things ended last time, maybe it isn’t at the same time.

“I've been keeping up with you in the news, you know. Looks like you've been having a field day in America.” Hob thinks as long as he can keep talking, he can keep The Corinthian from leaving again. 

The blonde man grins, as if he’s in on a joke that Hob won’t understand. "I'm a murderer,” he chirps, standing from Hob’s couch, ignoring the tea Hob’s given him. “I kill people for fun. It's what I was made to do.” He says this last sentence quite pointedly, and ah, Hob thinks he understands now. 

"So I've noticed," Hob replies. "You’ve got a pretty large body count that goes back pretty far. But you've been killing different types of people lately. What was it you said back then? You like it when your food fights back?"

"Entirely your fault by the way.” The Corinthian snaps.

“All right,” Hob placates, then takes a deep breath. “So then…let me help you.”

“What?” It’s clearly the last thing The Corinthian is expecting to hear. Hob takes advantage of the shock and continues to push his, admittedly, wild and crazy proposition.

“If it's my fault that you can only eat a certain type of food, then let me help you. London's chock full of criminals that get away with horrible things too, it’s not exclusive to America.” Hob says matter of factly.  “The way I see it, you're doing humanity a favor by keeping this up, aren't you?”

The Corinthian laughs, but Hob can tell it’s not genuine. There’s an old hurt there, he can tell. Something or someone probably tried to keep The Corinthian from killing all together, and he didn’t take too kindly to that. 

“See, you're running on the assumption that those types are the only ones I'm killing.” The blonde says.  “For all you know, there’s dozens more bodies the cops just haven’t found.”

“Then we'll work on that,” Hob says, matter of factly.

“Work on it?” The Corinthian repeats, incredulous. “What makes you think you can control me?” he challenges. 

“I don't think that,” Hob says honestly.  “But all relationships have to put in some compromises, so I don't think it's too much to ask you to be a bit more discerning with your murders.” Hob pretends he doesn't hear the choked "a relationship?!" in the middle of his soapbox and presses on.

“Look, I'm not going to beat around the bush, I don't know what you are or why you feel so inclined to murder humans, but if it really is in your nature, then it is what it is,” he shrugs and when he meets his eyes, he can tell The Corinthian knows he’s telling the truth. Hob’s been alive for a very long time. He knows that Death is inevitable for almost everyone and he also knows that there's no rhyme or reason to who gets to live and who gets to die. 

"I've had enough brushes with supernatural entities, especially in the last few years, to know that there are things I just can't assign human morality to" Hob continues. "And that's fine. But you and I keep coming back to each other, and I'd like you to stay. I think you want to stay too."

Hob thinks he must be an idiot for telling yet another supernatural being that the reason they keep coming back to him time and time again is for his companionship but damnit, the man isn't his Stranger, he's somehow become more in less amount of time, and isn't that something? Hob's always worn his heart on his sleeve anyways and he can't deny that somewhere along the line, he’s fallen for this fucked up, inhumane creature, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t at least try to see if the spark between them is just that, a spark…or something more. 

The Corinthian is silent for a long time, but he doesn't leave, and that alone is enough to give Hob hope.

“You are infuriating Robert Gladlen,” he finally says. “Fine then, let’s see what being a kept man looks like. If I get bored, I’ll just take your eyes in your sleep and leave.” The feral, self deprecating smirk is back but Hob doesn’t care. He feels himself grinning like a fool. The smile on Hob’s face must be unexpected because The Corinthian’s smirk slides right off his face just as fast as it had been put there. Hob decides to go all in.

“It's Gadling,” Hob says, stepping into the other man’s space and taking his hands in his. “My original name.” He presses a kiss into The Corinthian’s knuckles, taking note of the slight shiver he receives in response. “You can even call me Hob, if you'd like.”

"Hob Gadling," The Corinthian tests out the name, and Hob finds he really likes the way he says it. "What are you, some sort of medieval peasant?"

“Something like that,” Hob says lightly. He thinks he’d tell his whole life story to this infuriating being if he asked. 

“I've changed my mind,” The Corinthian declares loudly, pulling his hands away and raising his arms dramatically.  “I can't be seen with a poor man like this, my reputation will suffer.”

Hob thinks he may be walking on clouds. “Sure, sure. Now I don't know about you, but I'm starving, and not for eyeballs. Dinner then?”

“Only if it’s not that garbage you serve at this third rate pub downstairs.” The Corinthian sneers.

“Hey! There's nothing wrong with my pub food!” Hob argues. “You’ve never even been inside, I’d like to point out, so how can you tell me you hate the food?”

"What was that you said about all relationships having compromises?” The Corinthian says with what looks like a genuine smile finally on his face. “Well my compromise sounds like a nice Wagyu Steak, any idea where we can get one?"

"Christ you're going to be expensive, aren't you?"

"The best things in life are, Hobsie,” The Corinthian laughs.

“Now hang on just a second!”

#hobrinthian #eventual hobrintheus #the sandman netflix #the sandman fanfic #the corinthian #hob gadling #they're serial killer boyfriends your honor #I can't believe I forgot to post this on my tumblr lol #but here it is #mystuff #seiya writes #seiya writes hobrinthian #seiya writes hobrintheus

[belovedharringrove]

so a while back i officially reached 100 followers on here and, as a way of thanking all you wonderful human beings, i decided to make a post rating some stranger things characters based on how they would react if asked their sexuality and if they support the lgbtq+ community. y’know, a 100 follower celebration post. so here it is! i apologize if it’s short and i’ll probably make a part 2 if enough people ask for it and suggest new characters. enjoy!

billy hargrove

2/10

slapped me for hanging out with steve?

ouch, bestie

doesn’t have a sexuality

probably because he hates everyone

for good reason tbh

not an ally 😭

ouch, bestie pt. 2

told me to be ashamed of myself???

calling the cops on u, sir

would’ve given him a lower rating but it amused me how i annoyed him so much he decided to stop talking to me.

didn’t stop me from bothering him some more tho lol

steve harrington

8/10

kinda sus how he told me it’s obvious he’s straight

like ok, sir

it’s just a question

is an ally 🎉

got kinda defensive towards the end there tho

watch ur tone with me

but still, it was probably bc he has a homophobic dad or something

i’m not gonna punch u for supporting the community, babes

and i’m definitely not gonna slap you for hanging out with me *side eyes billy*

tommy hagan

6/10

poor boy is confused

says he’s straight but then says he has no interest in women

pls make it make sense

lost points for not even being an ally

legit said he doesn’t care about us, like???

ouch, bestie pt. 3

bestie was so quick to tell me no too, like

damn ok, chill

not inviting him to my birthday party, that’s for sure 😤

eddie munson

9/10

why was steve cheating on me with nancy at the beginning? 🤨

made me repeat myself which is totally not cool

said he’s straight which is totally okay but i at least thought he would be pan tbh

the steddie/mungrove/harringroveson shippers are not gonna like this

can already hear the hellcheer fandom throwing a party in the bg tho

lost points for hesitating to tell me he’s an ally

can’t be too mad at him tho bc he did check up on me after steve? cheated on me? with nancy wheeler???? which was very sweet of him

i am kissing u on the forehead rn, edward munson

jonathan byers

9/10

*whispers* he’s a little confused

says he’s gay but likes me?

ok

he understands himself and that’s what matters

short and sweet and straight to the point

wasted no time and i appreciate that

the short responses made me sad tho

lost a point bc he asked me out on a date after this

like bestie, i thought u were gay

don’t confuse me

argyle

1/10

i am brocken 💔❤️‍🩹⛓❤️‍🔥

this one hurt me

i was rooting for u, we were all rooting for u

thought he was doubting and still exploring which is 100% cool

but then bestie goes and says he’s not an ally?

and then bestie has the nerves, the gall, the audacity and the balls to ask me why i’m mad?

sir

SIR

don’t play with me

tried to get me to smoke with him afterwards and got all sad when i said no

he made me sad too so now we’re even

nancy wheeler

5/10

um

how did she know where to find me?

worstie is in her stalker era

made. me. repeat. myself.

not cool.

worstie rlly said “gay rights but for me only”

was very quick about it too

after that she asked me to stop calling her bestie because it made her uncomfortable

when i said yes she just walked away from me

i thought we were gonna study together 😢

robin buckley

what/10

why do they always make me repeat myself?

i thought she was a lesbian. what.

depends on who?? asks? the question???

so did she really tell steve that she’s a lesbian just to keep him away from her? i am so sorry, stevie baby

but did she really go around thinking that i thought that gay people don’t exist?

you heard it here first, folks. gay people aren’t real, they’re actually robots made by the government to spy on us and turn the frogs gay.

side note but what the fuck kinda projects are these teachers giving

how about neither, bestie

carol perkins

6/10

made me explain myself

a bisexual queen

date me then pls

i mean what? 😳

apparently learned from nancy, little miss “gay rights for me and only me”

gets one more point than nancy bc she apologized for not being an ally

although now that i think about it, she probably apologized just so i would giver her a ride

she would do that

barbara holland

11/10

told me to go away and then asked to be friends

confusing

was straightforward which i always appreciate

didn’t plan on asking her if she was in love with nancy, it really just slipped, but tbh i’m glad i did bc the tea is piping hot

she and tommy need to start a “in love with my best friend but live in a homophobic town so need to hide my feelings for them” club tbh

is an ally 😍

she said gay rights for everyone

r.i.p barb, i knew you were my favorite character in season 1 for a reason

tag list: @iwigyousub

#billy hargrove #steve harrington #eddie munson #tommy hagan #jonathan byers #argyle #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #carol perkins #barbara holland #100 followers celebration