#sorry to the two people who already voted i needed to fix this

[macroglossus]

#repost bc the jump from day to month is too much and the integrity of the poll must be kept #question posed bc i feel sick every single day and have for the last decade and i was reading an article which said that #50% of adults experience nausea at some point each YEAR #which seems like a crazy lowball!! so i read it out loud and my mom and brother were both like yeah i dont think ive felt sick this year #and my brother specifically said he doesn't think he's felt sick in the last few years at all!!! #so. poll #i know this website is the chronically ill website so the results might be a little skewed but im still curious #sorry to the two people who already voted i needed to fix this

[wandussyfantasy]

I Can See You

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x G!n Amab Reader

Summary: Wanda Maximoff and Reader are having a relationship in secret in order to appear professional around the other Avengers. But it's not as easy as they thought it would be.

Word Count: 2094

WARNINGS:

18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT READ & DO NOT INTERACT!!!

smut, gn!reader amab, powerbottom!wanda, oral, hand job, fingering, sneaking around, dirty talk.

𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.

You roll your neck to fix the stiffness of it from staring at the screen in the boardroom for over an hour. Wanda watches you from the other side of the room and when you bring your hand up to massage your neck she can’t help but bite her lower lip. She loves your massages. You always make a flirty remark about her magic fingers but she thought yours held a much more satisfying magic than hers. You feel her stare and wink when your eyes meet. Wanda blushes and returns her attention to Steve giving the long briefing. 

“I wish I had Wanda bent over this table with my tongue inside of her,” you think to yourself as you look in Wanda’s direction. By the way she clenches her fist shut, you know that she read your mind. “That’s against the rules, Wanda,” you playfully scold in your mind. Wanda pretends to ignore you which only makes you want to fluster her even more. “Then again, you were never good at following rules… Naughty girl.” You test out but with the lack of authority to your tone it makes her laugh behind her hand.

“Nice one,”  she says back to you. 

Feeling a little embarrassed that the pet name didn't take. You go back to your earlier tactic. “What would you do if I were to touch you now?” She licks her lips and pretends that she didn’t hear that one.  “I could see you up against the wall with me. My fingers inside of you. What would you do if I…”  You smirk as she snaps her pen in half, making the ink fly everywhere. 

She sits up in her seat and unsuccessfully tries not to draw attention as she tries to clean the mess. The others in the meeting look in her direction and Steve is upset by the disruption and stops talking. Tony presses a button and calls in someone to clean the mess and you grab one of the tablets from the charging station and one of the pens that go with it. When the spot on the glass table is cleared, you place it in front of Wanda with the notes app already open. “This is why we have the best technology available to everyone,” Tony says. “Just please, don’t break that one.” Wanda apologizes again and the two of you focus on the meeting until Steve is done. 

Once the group is dispersed Tony comes up to you to tell you that he expects you to join him in helping him, Natasha, and Steve talk to some government officials at an event later. They needed to play nice with them in order to continue to operate with so much red tape but because of the destruction the Avengers continue to cause with their missions it’s gotten increasingly difficult. Especially after what happened in Sokovia. There are rumors that they are trying to make something that prohibits them from operating how they normally do and they want to get ahead of it. Hopefully win over some congressmen to vote in their favor. Natasha is skillful in persuasion, Steve knows how to talk to those who have served in the military and you and Tony know how to talk to people with money. You agree to come along and assure Tony that you’re going to be on your best game and behavior. He smiles and tells you when to be ready. 

You get in the shower and get dressed in a timely manner. When you come out of your room, Wanda brushes past you  in a tight red dress as she adjusts her earrings. “Sorry,” she says as she continues on without looking back at you. 

“Where are you headed?” You ask as you try to catch up with her. 

“Tony said that they need me to read minds,” she explains. “Get a sense of who we’re winning over. But I can’t be seen with any of you. Tony is afraid they will kick everyone if I’m there.” 

“Makes sense, politicians are full of career ending secrets,” you see their point. “Is that why you’re all dolled up?” 

“Yes, and I have to wear some facial disguise for extra measure,” she informs you as the two of you walk into the main area of the compound. “Looks like you have to go,” she points to Steve pacing as he checks his watch with Natasha leaning against the wall bored and Tony pouring himself a drink. “I’ll see you later, but you won’t see me,” she winks. 

“With that dress, I’ll be able to spot you in the crowd,”  you think to yourself and she blushes. “Rules, Wanda.” You playfully remind her. 

“Rules are meant to be broken,” she replies and you smile as you part ways. 

“What’s the hold up! Let’s go,” you clap your hands as you direct the team out of the building. Tony chugs the rest of his drink and returns the glass to the bar as the rest of you leave the compound. 

Once at the event, which is being held at a museum, the four of you go your separate ways to cover the most ground and talk to as many people as possible. You focus on the task and make many people laugh and hopefully help them see your point of view. Express that the Avengers work best when they aren’t tied down to the government's restrictions because the way the bad guys operate, they don’t care for restrictions. Out of the corner of your eye you spot a red dress through every conversation and you know she is watching you. After talking to a very handsy woman who has just come into another great fortune as her third rich husband has just passed, you spot the woman in the redress again, this time she is leading a man away with their hands locked together. You excuse yourself from the woman and follow the red dress. Your heart begins to race from imagining Wanda with some random man, even if it is for a cover. 

Unfortunately, you lose her in the crowd in your search. She had walked through the large hall of the main party. There are many people with their cocktails chatting away while an orchestra entertains them with live music. You go into a sensory overload as your eyes wildly scan the room for her. Trying to figure out the face they gave her for the night. Trying to not imagine another man with his hand between her legs. You adjust your tie and straighten out your suit as you calm yourself down enough to spot the man she led away with her in the crowd all alone. Your body relaxes as relief fills you. She wouldn’t do something like that behind your back. There wasn’t any reason for you to panic. You know. But you don’t like how often they require either of you to flirt with people in order to get information out of them. 

Finally, you see the familiar red dress leaving the hall across the way. You make your exit and find your way around the building until you spot her. You stop when you spot her chatting with the mayor as they admire a sculpture. You pull out your pen and rip out a piece of paper from your leather pocket book and write down an invitation for her. “Meet me tonight,” it says. You fold it up and you make your way towards the two in conversation. 

“I wouldn’t have pegged you as a fan of Clodion, Mayor Fisk” you say to the man as you stand beside him in front of the Intoxication of Wine sculpture. “Y/n Y/l/n,” you grin at the lady beside him and offer her your hand. She takes it with a shy smile as she introduces herself as Ana. 

“You found me,” Wanda’s voice enters your head and you let go of the slip of paper in your hand. 

“I told you that dress is quite unforgettable,” you remind her. You let go of her hand and start to chat more with the mayor. Now that you know what face Wanda has on tonight, you’re able to relax and focus on the task at hand. The night runs smoothly and you’re able to head home around two in the morning. You hated how long those events could run but it was part of the job. 

Once you’re back in the Avengers Compound, you hide around the corner of Wanda’s room and wait for her to return. It’s a few minutes before she finally arrives and she still has her disguise on her face. She shuffles around in her clutch for the keys to her room and once she disappears from your view, you walk towards her room and swiftly enter before she shuts the door. You lock it behind you and a slow smile grows across her face. 

“I have to give a briefing in half an hour,” she tells you. 

“I guess we’ll have to move fast and keep quiet then,” you tell her as you grab her waist and move her against the wall. You turn the disguise off and peel the layer of technology off of her face. “Hey,” you whisper. 

“Hey,” she whispers with a light giggle. 

You put the disguise in your pocket and quickly remove your jacket and toss it to the floor. Wanda pulls you closer to her by your tie. You lift her leg around your hip and roll against her so she can feel how hard you are for her. You kiss her on the lips, humming at the feel of her soft lips against yours. “I thought you didn’t like champagne,” you say as you taste the beverage on her lips. 

“I don’t but Ana does,” she says as she chases your lips. “We don’t have time for small talk,” she reminds you as she reaches down and pulls your zipper down. She pulls your hard cock out of the fly of your pants. She spits in her hand so she can stroke you and you are both turned on and amused by her eagerness. “I have been thinking about you all day. I hate how we have to keep everything professional,” she mutters as you kiss her neck. 

“One day they won’t keep a watchful eye on us,” you say against her collarbone with your fingers pumping in and out of her. When her walls start to grip your fingers tightly, you know that she is close and you pull your fingers out of her and pull her hand off of you. 

You are quick with your penetration, needing to get this done before they send someone to get her so she can give her report. You slam your hips into her roughly, the way she likes it and she is gripping your shirt as she gets closer and closer to the edge. She bites down on your neck when you thrust deeper inside of her, then she places soft kisses along the accidental teeth marks that she left. You continue to fuck her against the wall until her body spasms and twitches against you. 

You pull out of her without finishing and Wanda smiles at you as she falls to her knees in front of you and licks her juices off of your wet cock. You stroke her cheek as she kisses the base of your cock, leaving red lips on the skin. You don’t even think about the mess of red lipstick that you have all over your face and neck. Wanda licks the tip of your penis a couple of times before she takes you into her mouth. She bobs her head back and forth as she tightens her lips around your cock. 

It doesn’t take much longer until you are blowing your load into her mouth. She swallows every last drop and cleans whatever she doesn’t catch with her finger and sucks it off of her finger. You tuck yourself back into your pants and grab your jacket off of the ground. You straighten yourself out and return the disguise device back to her. 

“I might be a little late to the briefing,” you inform her. “I need to clean my face.” 

Wanda rolls her eyes, “Whatever. I’ll see you then.” 

You sneak your way back into your room, satisfied by the successful mission of getting a moment alone with Wanda. You can’t wait to have the chance again. 

The End.

#wanda x y/n #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda smut #wanda fanfic #smut #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fic #wanda maximoff x gender neutral reader

[superblysubpar]

📼Remember to vote at the bottom // Details for the Trope or Treat Madness Event found here

📼 We're doing things a little different with this one! I highly recommend reading the little insights into each character's story beforehand here, as the intro belows is told from a narration while they all start the evening together. After this, you'll be voting on which couple we follow for the remainder of the night and it would follow the typical "you" pov with the boy who wins - but the stories are very much intertwined. There are things that happen before and after that would be revealed in future scenes if they make it to the next round and/or in the final one shot if declared the winner - the story told in slightly different perspectives as well.

📼 warnings: You're given names for this one, sorry to do it. Blair for Steve's lady, Vanessa for Eddie's (but used as sparingly as possible) | a sprinkling of toxic relationships, hints to infidelity, yelling, death, blood and gore descriptions as well as use and mentions of weapons like knives and guns will be present throughout the entire story after this| mentions of drugs and alcohol and their use and effects | the little intro image below is playing off of the one from Fargo, and I don't own it

On the evening of Friday, October 27th, 2023, a group of people, let’s call them old friends, are brought back together through the twists of fate and their own stupidity. 

Four couples, and none knowing what the others have gotten themselves into after all of these years apart. None knowing what was about to transpire, and how, as a direct result of their actions, beloved friends are going to die. 

Our scene opens with Robin Buckley, a gold strappy heel reveals itself first, stepping onto the cold, gray sidewalk. A pale leg on display from the high slit of the dark emerald and silky dress wrapped around her figure. Black polished fingers take the hand offered to her by her date - let’s call her Gabriella. Robin’s freckled face and bright blue eyes shine in the lights of the marquee up at her. Gold chandelier earrings, a modest lip color, and a dramatic eye - perhaps it was a little too much for a simple show at the Orpheum. A fancier look than most, but dammit, Miss Buckley needed this. 

You see, Robin is a middle school music teacher. She spends her days pointing at a kid who thinks he’s slick putting gum on the back of his sheet music stand. Calling him out and making him wear the Dingus top hat for the rest of class, marking a talley in the you suck column on the whiteboard and the rest of the class groaning - one step further away from their pizza party. Her eye frequently twitches, for when she asks the student’s what she just said, one quite literally plays the sound of crickets on their smartphone. Yet she loves her job - her students are wonderful, most are respectful, and many are in band because they truly enjoy it. 

However, twelve to fourteen year olds these days have no trouble learning the latest tiktok dance in less than five minutes but cannot nail the transition to the chorus of a song they’re learning. She’s guidance counselor when the tweens come in crying, she’s a dentist when she yells at one to get the scissors out of his mouth and cries that he absolutely cannot fix his braces in her classroom. She is benefactor for supplies, she’s an extra custodian, she is superwoman. 

She is, simply put, not paid enough. 

Which exactly why she got her side gig, and is wrapped up in the mess of tonight. But we’re getting ahead of ourselves. 

Robin and Gabby enter the Orpheum, plush red carpet beneath heels as they make their way up grand staircases towards a bar. They don’t know that they’re about to cross paths with old friends for the first time tonight - that it’s not just a happy coincidence. 

For our second couple of the night sits at the bar with their drinks in hand already - Nancy and Jonathan Byers. 

These two, oh these two. They’re quite a pair. 

Nancy Wheeler Byers is in a simple but elegant black cocktail dress. It hugs her hips she works hard for, her shoes and jewelry silver, her clutch a shimmering little thing to match. Her make-up pops, hues and shades that were matched professionally, and her brown curls are pinned up in an old Hollywood style. 

Jonathan is wearing a suit. 

Nancy raises her extra dry martini to her lips and Jonathan’s thumbs slip down the side of the tumbler holding an old fashioned, he stares at it in disgust. He hates cocktails and would much rather hold a beer.

But that’s not how Nancy does things. 

To any other person walking by, to Robin and Gabriella making eye contact with Miss Byers, these two look picture perfect. They are divine, they are a couple straight out of a catalog. Their love is the stuff of myths. 

Literally. 

Behind the smile pushing up Nancy’s cheeks, behind the black and white candid photography on Jonathan’s carefully curated Instagram, there’s pain and mess and so much we have to uncover. 

Robin rushes up to her, an arm around her shoulders, “Oh my god! How long has it been?”

“Too long,” Nancy squeezes her fingers, setting her martini on the black tabletop and motioning for two more to the bartender. 

Robin’s eyes bounce between the two old friends, a genuine smile on her face as she gushes, “God, I mean what are the odds? How are you both? What have you been up to?”

Nancy and Jonathan’s eyes dart to the other, tight smiles before responding in unison, “Nothing much!”

Nothing much meaning they’ve dug themselves into holes they can’t get out of, and perhaps they don’t want to. Because she can’t let something go and he can’t say no to her. When Nancy Wheeler Byers finds a loose thread, she has to pull until the whole thing is unraveled. She has to commit, she has to be the best, and her passion and obsession for answers always leads her to forget about others and how her actions have consequences. And it is for this reason, that many believe that what is about to occur tonight is entirely her fault. 

But, we'll see about that. 

Because, while these old friends start catching up, Gabriella’s smile falls as her gaze makes contact with a pair of hazel ones in the mirror above the bar. He ducks his head, his hand with a thick family ring on his middle finger grabs the elbow of a woman in red, whispering in her ear. His caramel and honey hair styled, pushed back but stray strands will soon fall over his forehead. His black suit is tailored, a bowtie that’s far too expensive, and his shoes shine. The lady in red, we’ll call this one Blair, has accessories and make-up that are equally as professionally done and sophisticated as Nancy’s but far more expensive. The woman attached to the wrist his fingers now curl around turns her head, smiling directly at Gabriella and waving. They begin to head over to the group and Gabriella panics, squeezing Robin’s fingers and beelining towards the line snaking out of the ladies room. 

Gabriella’s lack of subtlety is not lost on either half of our third couple. Steve Harrington watches it happen, his throat bobbing and his fingers flexing at his side. Mrs. Harrington finally has the confirmation she needs that her husband is fucking his secretary. But is that what’s happening? Only time will tell, we suppose. That is afterall, how a story works. 

Nancy sees the Harrington’s first after Gabriella’s abrupt departure and she smiles. Kisses to each apple of each of their cheeks and a firm handshake from Jonathan. 

“Steve?” 

Steve Harrington turns, and Robin Buckley beams. 

“Ro-Robin! Oh my god!” He engulfs her in a hug and she laughs, the two old friends holding each other tightly. Mrs. Harrington looks at the pair then back at Nancy and Jonathan, confused, and even more so when Nancy gulps down her third martini and Jonathan’s hand shakes before grabbing the detested old fashioned. 

Blair has never seen Steve so genuine, not since their early years, not since before their engagement. It’s like the weight of his life is lifted from his shoulders from this honey-haired goddess and suddenly she’s not so sure it’s the secretary he’s fucking. 

Steve’s hands land on her shoulders, hers on his forearms as he shakes his head, eyes wide, “Wh-what? What are you doing here?”

Robin laughs, gesturing over her shoulder, “My girlfriend got tickets.”

Steve’s eyes dart up, Gabriella’s head ducks down quickly because as we’ve established, subtle and her don’t mesh. Steve inhales sharply, “She, oh, uh…wait, what?”

Yeah definitely fucking the secretary. The secretary who’s dating his old friend. The friend whom Mrs. Harrington has never heard of before tonight. 

Before Blair Harrington can begin to question more, before Nancy Wheeler can start to confirm and piece her puzzle together, another familiar voice breaks the group's focus, and our fourth and final couple is introduced. 

“What the fuck?”

The group turns at the question, finding Edward Munson in a suit and a beautiful woman holding his hand. She wears a navy dress, this one is Vanessa. She glances at the three gorgeous women staring at her husband. Her brain begins to calculate just how much their earrings cost, let alone the rest of their ensembles, and she folds in on herself, trying to pull and hide behind Eddie.

He squeezes her fingers as Robin steps forward. “Eddie? Oh my god, seriously is someone playing some like prank tonight? Did the kids do this? How are we all here?”

A great question indeed, Robin. 

What are you all doing here? 

Before this question can be answered, the soft lighting overhead flickers twice and a chime rings out, signaling it’s time to take their seats.  

Blair Harrington starts to head towards their box, Vanessa Munson glances down at the paper ticket in her hand and tries to figure out which direction to go, Gabriella (we never did give her a last name did we?) is nowhere to be seen. 

Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Nancy Wheeler Byers, Jonathan Byers, and Robin Buckley all stand in a circle, speaking at once.

“Well, we should-”

“Where are you stay-”

“I miss you guy-”

But it’s Nancy’s voice that rings out the clearest.

“Right back here. Intermission. Please.”

With nods, fingers slipping into wives who tug on them, and smiles - some tight lipped and some genuine - the party dissolves and the orchestra makes its first harmonizing note. 

The show is starting. 

Please vote for who will be moving on and revealing more of their story.

Remember: whoever wins this week, faces the winner of Creatures of the Night - which will have more revealed on Thursday, Oct 12th

Choose wisely!

#superbly subpars trope or treat madness #steve harrington x you #eddie munson x you #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x y/n #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things fanfic

[midnightfire830]

I need ya’lls help! TWT

Hi there! Sorry I haven’t been active all that much lately. I’ve lately been working on a project, going on vacation irl, and I’ve been juggling art block.

So I’m having a bit of a problem right now in terms of the FNAF Security Breach AU idea… thingie. I’ve been trying to figure out who in babtqftim/IM I should make the main Glamrock animatronics. Because the personalities between the two universes are so different I’m having difficulty choosing. Technically even who I assigned as Sun and Moon wouldn’t have been my first choice. (I would have make cup be moon and mugs sun because of the personalities but I chose the current arrangement because of color scheme. Maybe not my best choice but can you really imagine a blue sundrop and red moondrop? It’s weird TWT) And this idea wasn’t really supposed to be a whole thing but apparently people like this enough to want more so yeah.

So! To fix this problem! I’m gonna ask you guys to vote on the arrangement you thing would work best! I belive the general idea we have is that these personalities are going to be purposefully different and we’ll blame the Vanny virus on the change. “Making them evil” kinda thing ig. Because these animatronics are already themed around different animals and we’re assigning animal characters some characteristics and qualities may change. Idk. We’ll see.

The ideas we have so far are:

1. Bendy as Freddy, Felix as Monty, Boris as Roxy, and Alice as Chika

2. Felix as Freddy, Bendy as Monty, same arrangement for Roxy and Chika

3. Have Boris as Gregory, and Bendy as Freddy, Felix as Monty, Alice as Roxy and maybe Cala as Chika.

4. Do villains from IM with Felix or Bendy as Freddy, and Roxy and Chika as Ava and Sarah. Not sure yet about Monty. Maybe Brute or Reide. Idk. And then try to sprinkle questers throughout the AU somewhere.

5. OR! Rearrange everyone and start over! Including Sunnycup and MoonMug!

With the new release of FNAF security breach ruin some things might change. I don’t know. And I might also be willing to try to include Glamrock Bonnie, Music Man, and some of the other bots in the game like map/security bots and wet floor signs? And maybe Glamrock Foxy? I don’t know as much about them so that’s kinda iffy. We’ll see.

#babtqftim #bendy and boris in the inky mystery #babitim #bendy and boris the quest for the ink machine #cuphead #fnaf daycare au #poll #i need heeeeelp #i wanna hear your thoughts #babtqftim au #babtim #quest au #fnaf security breach #glamrock freddy #glamrock animatronics #glamrock chica #glamrock foxy #fnaf glamrock

[thessalian]

Thess vs Upcoming Elections

Both the US and the UK are coming up on elections this year, and the usual notifications are coming up - hell, I've posted them myself - about how people are going to try to convince you that there's no point in voting because both parties are the same, and that it's a psyop by the Republicans / Conservatives, etc. And in the US, that's probably true. But I did want to say something about the whole deal in the UK, because I actually live here, and there's one problem with that theory.

That theory doesn't hold true when we're hearing it directly from the Leader of the Opposition.

Those of us in the UK have heard Kier Starmer saying, time and again, how he will fall into lockstep with the Tories on so many issues. He's spoken in support of teachers outing transgender kids to their parents. He's refusing to condemn the genocide in Gaza. He's going to continue to 'bolster the NHS with private contracts', which basically means stealth privatisation of the service and already cost us billions during the early days of COVID. Just about every nasty policy the Tories have put out there the last few years, Starmer has more or less agreed with. I'm not sure where he stands about this stupid Rwanda thing, but he is a lawyer so I'm pretty sure that at the very least he's wary of breaking international law.

The worst part is that it feels like we're damned either way. If we don't vote Starmer, our not-two-party-system-BUT is arranged in such a way that the Tories will probably win again. This will bolster the far right element and things will get worse for us. However, if we do vote Labour ... well, Starmer's going to go on about "See, that's how you win an election" and carry on with his Tory-With-A-Red-Tie mentality, and the Tories will go, "Well, obviously we need to go further right to win the next one", and get absolutely fucking feral about it. And the Tories probably will win next time because the absolute mess the Tories have made of the economy and everything else is impossible to fix in five years, and everyone will blame Labour for it because they have the mental capacity of goldfish.

I mean, I'm going to vote Labour anyway. My borough is one of the safest of safe Labour seats, but I'm going to do it anyway. People keep saying, "Vote Green!" but ... I'm sorry, no matter how important that one issue is, I will not vote for a one-issue party. The Lib Dems have become basically wallpaper at this point, and there aren't a lot of other political entities in my borough. I mean, the absolute best we could do by voting third-party is to force a hung Parliament, but I mistrust that kind of thing ever since the Conservative / Lib Dem coalition in 2010, which was the start of this whole mess.

Anyway, I'm going to vote Labour even though I know what they are and what they're doing because I cannot imagine aiding and abetting the Tories at this point. I can hope that Starmer, who has been very cagey about his manifesto to stop the Tories from spending time during Prime Minister's Questions trying to use it as ammunition against having to actually answer the man's questions, is further to the left than he appears. Then again, we live in a capitalist hellscape and I would guess not? But at least he doesn't want to send refugees to Rwanda. Maybe. Maybe he'll actually respect international law. And maybe he'll even get rid of the idiotic voter ID laws which Jacob Rees-Mogg admitted was deliberate gerrymandering on live television and no one batted a fucking eye. In fact, Rees-Mogg said, "We just have to do it more effectively" and then there were even more draconian laws put into place around postal votes, and again, no one seemed to care.

It's sad when all the hope we can cling to in these cases is "Maybe the other guy won't be a literal criminal" ... but I guess the US knows that one too.

#Thess on politics #Thess vs the Tories

[tra-archive]

I know you’ve already blocked sincerelyyellingback but someone asked her if she was an antivaxxer today (presumably wanting proof for the anon message you got earlier today) and she replied “hell yeah” - so not only is she ignorant, she’s proud of her ignorance. And also now she has a “both sides are the same coin” post pinned to her blog due to the criticism she’s receiving for voting trump. I’m so sick of people in this community outing themselves as the dumbest, most bigoted people alive smh.

I decided to check that out to verify. I had to use my simblr😩

1)

I never claimed she wasn’t a feminist. I asked how she could call herself a radical feminist while knowingly voting for a man who has several anti-woman positions, anti-abortion being a huge one. Do you really think Trump won’t get into office and take that choice away? If you think it’s bad now, just wait.

Also I’m sorry but you can’t claim both sides are the exact same. Both are full of misogynists, yes, but one side wants women, gay people, and POC to lose all their rights. “Repeal the 19th” is a huge thing among conservatives right now. Florida has been attempting to stop gay/bi teachers such as myself from being allowed to even mention our same-sex partners or even say the word gay to our students. Abortion bans are going to kill women and children.

Dems need to fix a lot of their priorities and there are more than enough sexist liberal men, but you can’t claim both sides are the same when one actively wants you back in the kitchen as your husband’s slave.

2)

I’m begging GCs to realize that conservatives don’t care about single-sex spaces because they care about women. Conservatives don’t even criticize trans ideology for the same reasons we do, they hate trans people because they’re homophobic and hate the idea of a feminine man or masculine woman- notice how they only care about “men in dresses” and not the inherent sexism of gender ideology. They don’t care about women getting our own safe spaces. Trump is the same one who said “grab them by the pussy,” he doesn’t care about women being and feeling safe.

Also as much as I’m against what’s going on in the Middle East and just want peace, things really won’t change with a Trump presidency. I don’t think either one of the two old fucks really cares about the innocent people being killed, if we’re being honest. Radfems are known for being anti-war so idk why she thinks we’re out here cheering on Biden for his part in the Israel/Palestine conflict.

3)

She’s trolling here, still weird though. Also a lot of people think only being against the covid vaccine is different than being “anti-vax,” but it’s the same thing. Not saying that’s what she believes but it’s what I’ve seen many say.

4)

I haven’t trashed you. You shared an opinion on a public social media platform and I shared my thoughts on that. I was not hateful towards you- I expressed my frustration with your choice to vote for Trump, but nowhere did I insult you or call for anyone to hate on you. It’s your choice to vote for who you want and it’s also my choice to talk about it.

Trust me, I know how to trash people- ask any of the TRAs who have sent me threats- and that is not what I did here. 😂

I’m so fucking tired bc it seems like every week someone on radblr shares an opinion that’s bigoted or privileged (revived-frogs being pro-forced birth, redberry being racist, etc) and then gets mad when the rest of us call it out.

Don’t post things publicly if you can’t handle it. Maybe it’s because I’m a rudefem but I won’t hesitate to call out opinions I think are hateful, and that goes for radfems too.

#ask #anon #radblr

[museeeuuuum]

I'm sorry if this question has already been asked and answered, but what did you go to school for and how did you enter the field of museum work? I'm currently in university aspiring to someday work in museum conservation, I and would be very grateful for any wisdom you could offer. Thank you!

This has been sitting in my inbox for a long time, partly because I have been trying to sort out how to reply, I do apologize.

I got into museum work in a roundabout way. Once upon a time, I was trying to figure out what the fuck I wanted to do with my life, and what I wanted to do was travel. What job would pay me to travel ? Ah, archaeology! I always saw those khaki wearing nerds in exotic places on TV. And they got to dig up history? Sign me up.

I got a degree in Anthropology. I didn't like it very much. At the same time I got a degree in Classics. I liked that alot more. Having come from a low income family where, to this day, I am the only college/university educated person, I was led to believe by well meaning family members that people would be BEGGING me to work for them. I had not one, but TWO degrees after all.

I spent the two years after university continuing to work at 4 star hotels, cleaning up after sex parties and fixing toilets. I was an idiot and did not apply for many jobs. I was frozen, unsure of how one acquired a career.

I did another fieldschool, got an Archaeology Assistant certificate that feels like it was worth less than the paper it was printed on, and I decided I ought to step up my game. I went and got myself a graduate diploma in cultural resource management, did a little conservation internship at a big local museum that completely changed my trajectory, and also started applying to jobs like I should have been 2 fucking years prior.

I got a job as a commercial archaeologist working on pipelines and the most idiotic hydro damn project in human history. I worked the field and also got lab experience, writing numbers on tiny fragments of rock while the lab director and assistant tried not to tear each other's throats out.

I decided I no longer wanted to be an archaeologist. I worked labour for 15 years and my injuries were stacking up. That internship stuck in my head. I started applying everywhere. Galleries. Museums. Obscure archaeology digs in muddy English countrysides.

I was interviewed for the Assistant Curator position at a small house museum that was trying to start from less than scratch: the site had been horribly mismanaged for decades and the place was falling apart, the collection a mess.

I didn't get the job. But I did get lucky: the woman who got the job got pregnant and they needed someone to cover her maternity leave, and guess who had a shiny new graduate diploma?

I got cold called 7 months later and was offered the mat leave cover. The pregnant lady had her baby and moved to Vancouver and, voila. I got a permanent position.

Some advice: volunteer with museums, make friends, and remember peoples names. Make sure they remember yours. Public history is very chic in museums right now: get a degree in that. Conservation is cool, but you get pidgeon-holed into a job that pays well and has openings once every few years. If you want to do curation and research, get a public history degree. If you want to do collections stuff, look for something that will teach you the basics of conservation and collections management. Learn how to work with your hands, how to work an electric drill, and how to clean (like REALLY CLEAN, not the shit treatment you give your apartment once every three weeks). Connections are everything in this field. The pay is okay, but don't ever expect to own a home unless you have an inheritance.

Most importantly, support your local museums, even if you don't want to work for them. Donate a little extra. Vote for mps or senators or whoever makes decisions in your country, province, state, or municipality who respect education and the preservation of cultural heritage. If you don't, jobs will be cut.

That is the story of how I got into museums and a few nuggets of advice I wish I had been told a decade ago. I entered through a convoluted way, so I am not sure how helpful this will be to you. But I wish you the best of luck.

#museums #shitty career advice

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Yellow City, Chapter Five

One probable no.

One probable yes.

One vote he has yet to obtain.

Arthur is having a day,, and he may be mad… but at least he isn't in denial.

Yellow City, chapter five. With the first of a couple of cameos.

Not exactly explicit, but there is sexual content and talk.

AO3

-----------

Nobody helped him. Nobody could. It felt like a quest, like proving he meant what he said, showing the world he wasn’t some milquetoast hypocrite. He had a job to do.

The presence of Mama Laveau (Shub-Niggurath, whose very name shook the already-spare sanity quavering in the corners of his mind) pressed him into the earth as he dragged himself toward her.

“Pretty sure he’s not gonna quit,” said Asenath, going on her toes and speaking up, up, up toward Mama Laveau, who was (twenty feet tall a hundred feet tall two thousand feet tall) six inches taller than Asenath.

“We’ll see,” said Mama Laveau. “How often do they do the hard thing, the pricey thing, when they don’t benefit themselves? We’ll see.”

For Faroe—

No. No, it was too late for her, too late for him. This wasn’t about him. This was about everyone else, the innocents, the people who didn’t deserve such a fate, to be fed upon, stolen for entertainment, bred until they died.

Lied to and eaten.

And he wasn’t the right one to fix this, he knew—unworthy, sullied, unclean—but there was no one else. I’m sorry, world, he thought in a doozy way. I’m all you’ve got.

“Do you really believe they’re innocent?” said Mama Laveau over howling wind, her words deep and resonant in spite of the noise of Arthur’s gasps and the scrape of his flesh over suddenly-sharp grasses.

Nobody could hear him over the howling gale, but he answered anyway, dragging, digging his fingers into soft loam filled with sharp and biting roots to pull himself nearer. “Yes.”

“What if I tell you there are no innocent humans, Arthur Lester?” said Mama Laveau, light and conversational, as if his answer didn’t even matter.

Faroe…

Some switch inside him flipped. “I’d ask you what in fuck’s name you think innocent is, because I’ve never met anyone who’s perfect, if that’s what you’re looking for—including you.”

“Yikes, Lester,” Asenath said, making faces as though caught between horror and humor.

Behind him, the wind rose in a strangely bass howl, like a train engine in distress.

“You’ve panicked your owner,” Mama Laveau said, sounding amused.

Owner?

He had a partner, not an owner, and it didn’t matter right now because Hastur wasn’t expected to reach Mama Laveau. “He’s new,” Arthur said.

To his confusion, Mama Laveau laughed.

Whatever that meant. It had no bearing, so Arthur kept coming, through the metal-screaming storm-howling grass-scraping pain, through the actual blades slicing his whole body to ribbons as he pulled.

(Vaguely, so vaguely, heard his partner bellowing, but it was so far behind and surely Hastur was just urging him on?)

His breath was thick and wet, bubbling red past his lips, like that moment when he’d saved the (frogs) children from that sinking boat and slid under the water. Drowning?

Hastur wouldn’t let him drown, so Arthur kept going.

It would be fine. He’d run out of blood eventually and stop smearing it all along his snail-trail path and making his chin so sticky. He’d had worse, anyway, though usually it ended in an orgasm.

She was so close.

#

The last six feet took eighty-four years.

Time didn’t mean things here, or so Asenath said, but enough of it passed (or seemed to) that Arthur no longer remembered why he made this journey.

He knew he needed to reach Mama Laveau. He knew she would stop something bad. He couldn’t remember what, but that was okay. He could wing it. Arthur was good at winging it.

He reached out (shaking, bones peeking through fingertip-flesh) and gently touched Mama Laveau’s foot. “Got you,” he wheezed.

“I’d say you did,” said Mama Laveau, and suddenly, it all stopped.

Arthur wasn’t shredded. The grass was grass, soft and wet, and the worst damage done was the dew soaking through his flimsy yellow clothes, which he’d smeared quite green.

(And a tiny, trembling part of him got a kick out of that, because Hastur would have to clean it up, but the thought evaporated before he could truly enjoy it.)

“You were right, Arthur Lester,” said Mama Laveau. “I’m not perfect. I believed, after all, you’d give up long before you got to me.”

“Ha! You wouldn’t be the first to make that mistake,” said Arthur like an eighty-year-old-man, and struggled to sit back in the grass with all the grace of a skinny walrus.

(Vague bass mourning back there somewhere—)

“Your god is going to need some triage,” she said.

“Don’t have a god,” Arthur said.

Again, she softly chuckled.

Arthur had no idea what that was for, but that was okay. “Give up yet?” he said with full confidence.

This time, she threw her head back and laughed for real, and the sound of it and her proximity shook everything, and his thoughts splashed wild and murky like soapy water disturbed by a rock.

(See to the fool, Shub-Niggurath said to her witch.)

Asenath went to check on Parker’s shuddering form, and Mama Laveau knelt down and brushed Arthur’s sweaty hair out of his face.

Her touch was cool, pleasant, calmed the waves in his mind instead of making more of them, and he had a weird moment of clarity. Her patience for him was thin because of what he was, and he couldn’t take too long with this. “Hey,” he said weakly. “Can I shoot straight with you?”

“I think you’d better,” she said, which was good advice.

“I don’t remember the details of this case,” he said as she plucked some grass from his (elaborate golden collar) lapel. “It’s my fault—had too much to drink last night.”

“That’s a real shame, with such a big, important meeting today,” she said, still running her cool, dark fingers through his damp hair.

He cranked the charm to a thousand, because Hastur was the scary partner, so he had to be the winsome one. “I can be pretty dunderheaded, ma’am, and I’d be the first to tell you that—but the biggest idiot in the world can still pass on an important message. Would you be willing to hear out this particular idiot, just for a minute?”

“Well,” she said, low and soothing, “it’d be a real shame to let all that effort go to waste, wouldn’t it? What’s that message, then?”

He couldn’t remember.

All his thoughts climbed over each other like ants, and he couldn’t see whatever dropped sugar cube they were swarming.

She waited, fingers cool, eyes patient if not exactly warm.

He wasn’t sure how much time passed, but he didn’t want to risk that patience drying up. Winging it. “Something bad’s coming.”

“It is,” she agreed, because her thoughts weren’t a wasp’s nest climbing out her ears. At least one of them knew what was going on.

“It isn’t their fault,” he said, going with instinct.

“Some are saying it’s yours, being as interesting as you are,” she said like opening a door to see if he’d go through.

He snorted. “No, it’s Kissinger’s for being a greedy, ugly baby who doesn’t like to lose.”

Her chuckle was dark. “You might be right on that.”

A glimpse of clarity, like a light flashing in a dark room. The Fire of Y. So many dead… “We know we fucked up, ma’am. Does that really mean we deserve to just be wiped out, down to the babies?”

She didn’t answer that. Her lovely, round face was unreadable. “Do you know what it’s like to put your good faith in someone, in a lot of someones, only for them to spit on your good will to the point that, in spite of your desire, you find them only distasteful?”

Oh, that was a big one. “I can’t say I’ve been betrayed that badly, ma’am.”

“Can’t you?” she said, and for one moment, just one, he remembered.

Hastur knew who, and knew all along, and never said. I know that if I had given you the name, and triggered my Contract, I’d be obligated to Harvest you—and then I’d lose my eyes in this world.

Parker sounded angry. “Of course I fucking know.” And he fell to his knees, splattering his weird blood.

Arthur cried out and gripped his head, breathing through lungs that felt shrunk to the size of lima beans.

She waited, silent as he rode it out, as the sloshing chaos of his thoughts settled again inside his skull.

Another moment of clarity, and he tried to hold the thought (the truth) that gods, for some reason, had such simple views of right and wrong, such easily hurt hearts, such ever-burning anger. “They hurt you. Like I hurt him. That’s it. Isn’t it?” 

She didn't answer.

It slid like a wine glass on the edge of a table, going over, about to shatter, and he shouted while he still knew what it was: “I’m sorry we hurt you! For everyone! For all of us! I’m a fuckup, but maybe that’s why I’m the one here, in place of all the fuckups! I’m sorry we did it to you! It was wrong, and I…” Images of Faroe (Of course I knew) smashed through his remaining thought like a brick through a window, and he needed another minute while it all crashed and sloshed and spilled.

“What an interesting human you are,” said Mama Laveau somewhere in there. “I knew you were brave; I knew you were stubborn. I knew you were strong enough to hold Hastur within you, and to do what was necessary with the tools I sent. But I didn’t know you could be wise, Arthur Lester.”

Faroe…

“That’s kind of you, ma’am,” Arthur answered from a great distance. “But I promise I’m not wise.”

“Well,” she said. “I chose right before. I’m gonna choose right now, too. I will not vote, Arthur Lester.”

That was bad. Wasn’t it bad? “Wh… why?”

“Because I might vote the wrong way,” she said. “I'm upset; until I’m a bit more soothed, I won't risk making that choice. So instead, I’m going to do what I did before.”

He had no idea what she did before (the feel of that dagger in his hand, its red and black jags biting into his flesh). “What’s that?”

“I’ll give you aid. How well you do with it depends on you.”

This was what she’d done before. This mattered. This… he couldn’t hold on to it. “Aid? What, like a hammer or something?”

“Something like that. Hold out your left hand.”

He did.

Her warm, strong fingers (long and clever tentacles) wrapped around his wrist for one moment, totally enveloping his whole arm, and when they withdrew, they left a present.

A bracelet sat against the bones of his wrist, loose enough to dangle, but far too tight to remove. It was a simple chain, silver, with tiny links and numerous charms that he couldn’t quite make out.

It was surprisingly heavy, too, and his hand fell to the grass, where he stared at it for being weird.

“It’s up to you,” said Mama Laveau, and just like that, she was gone. Her patience was done, and he got that, on some weird internal level. It made sense she’d be gone. It—

Hastur yanked him into a tangle of overly-hot tentacles and swore in some language Arthur couldn’t understand, a language that sounded like rocks grating against steel wool.

“Rude,” said Asenath.

Parker groaned.

Hastur turned to go.

“Don’t you dare,” said Asenath.

Hastur… growled.

And Arthur remembered that sound from his time in Cloud City, when that growl frightened him, when the depth and breadth of it felt ravenous even when immaterial, but now, in the flesh, it was utterly, mind-shatteringly terrifying.

Arthur whimpered.

Hastur pulled him closer, comfortingly tight, keeping him from shattering apart.

There was a pause.

“Very scary,” said Asenath. "Now take your trash with you, for fuck’s sake.”

Hastur rumbled, displeased, and picked Parker up tightly enough that Parker cried out.

Arthur realized that by trash, she meant Parker.

Well. Parker killed her, so that made sense. But Arthur felt he’d indirectly gotten Asenath killed, and quite directly gotten Parker killed. “Don't hurt him,” he muttered.

“I will… not break him,” Hastur said to Arthur, absolutely sullen, and then they flew.

Arthur was glad they flew. The weight of that thin bracelet kept his arm down, making him feel weirdly drained. “Thank you,” he said, though he was already forgetting what for.

Hastur did not dally, did not show off; he simply flew home, slammed the doors of his palace (Arthur’s apartment had never sounded so cavernous), and doused all the lights but one.

#

(Your god is going to need some triage)

Arthur had been right: the green was everywhere, all over his skin, all over his silky yellow whatever the fuck, but he was very tired, and couldn’t gloat or put up a fuss as Hastur stripped him and began scrubbing him down while muttering darkly in another language.

“Yeah, fuck you, too,” Parker snapped from somewhere in the dark, as if trying to get hit.

(Your god is going to need some triage)

“Do you think I care to indulge your little suffering kink?” Hastur growled at those miserable shadows.

“Let me go,” said Parker, sounding weak as a leaking faucet.

“No. I traded for you. I did so on his request. You stay.” Hastur resumed scrubbing.

Arthur realized he’d gotten grass between his teeth, somehow, and Hastur didn’t like that, and was taking it all out. That made it hard to talk, though. “You were mmph… But yoummmph… quit it. Yoummmph…”

“No,” said Hastur, digging deeper.

Arthur gagged a little. “You were suffering,” he threw at the shadows.

“Fuck you,” said Parker, unsteady, like he was about to cry. “I’d almost paid. It would’ve been over.”

Hastur snorted. “Keep telling yourself that. Perhaps, in another world, another timeline, that could even be true.”

“Go to hell!” Parker bellowed.

“I don’t mmph… understand,” said Arthur.

“He thinks the Defiler would be content with temporary suffering,” said Hastur, being mean.

(Your god is going to need some triage)

“Why?” said Arthur.

“Because he wishes to believe the lies of his youth,” said Hastur. “He dedicated his life to something he has found is untrue, and cannot handle the loss, the wasted years, the terrible sacrifices that meant…  nothing.” He laughed, low and cruel. “I broke many cultists’ minds in the same manner, back when we had easy access to Earth.”

Arthur’s brain scrambled all of that in under three seconds. “So Parker had a terrible boss. You were a terrible boss, too. I know it, and you know it, and you ought to give him leeway.”

Everybody stared at him.

“What?” said Hastur, his many limbs going still.

It was a beautiful story! “You don’t have to feel ashamed,” he said, his pride for Hastur warning his tone. “You quit to work with me when you saw how much better it was to help people than hurt people. Sure, the pay’s less, but we’ve had some good windfalls, and you got plenty tucked away, anyway.”

“Oh my gods,” said Parker. “What the fuck is he talking about?”

“A new adventure,” said Hastur softly, and stroked Arthur’s cheek. “It seems now I have been rescued from my own unworthy managerial practices.”

Arthur turned his face and kissed the gigantic hand nearest. “I’ve got you. I know it’s a lot. We’ll do it together.”

Hastur purred.

“Fuck,” said Parker, unsteady. “He’s lost it. They said he broke. I didn’t believe it. I thought he wouldn’t. Him, of all people.”

“Oh, he did,” Hastur said, and laughed darkly. “I, however, did not break him.”

“The fuck you didn’t!”

“I think you know very well what pushed him over that ledge,” said Hastur with a terrible eagerness.

Parker breathed quickly through his nose. “Say it like that, it’s like you think I contributed to it.”

“You did.”

(Your god is going to need some triage)

“Bullshit. You’re a god of madness. You broke him.”

“You and I did together, with the news we hid.”

Parker made a low, pained sound, as if he’d been secretly stabbed in the dark.

Arthur… heard all of this. He did. It didn’t really register, though, because he was too busy studying the bracelet Mama Laveau had given him.

It was pretty. Strange, though, and so much heavier than it should have—

“What the fuck is that?” Hastur snarled, yanking Arthur’s arm up.

“From Mama Laveau,” Arthur said, allowing himself to be lifted like a doll, manhandled. “It’s a clue.”

“It’s a spell,” Hastur declared like a barking dog, and tried to take it off.

“Wait, what?” said Parker, coming closer. “What… I can’t see it. I mean… it’s like a gleam of silver on him. What the fuck is that?”

“I don’t know,” said Hastur, low and getting louder. “Why would she… he’s mine. She wouldn’t want him! What is this? What is this?”

Arthur decided the little dangling charms were books. He wasn’t sure what books, but they were books, some open, some closed. They were the size of his thumbnail, but he felt he could almost read them. “It’s heavy,” he complained.

Hastur trembled. Just for a moment, just once, a tremor from his crown to the tips of his tentacles.

(Going to need some triage) “I haven’t figured out the clue yet,” said Arthur, reassuring. “I will.”

“Clue?” said Parker.

“For the case of the stolen ballots,” said Arthur.

Parker stared. Was it pain on his face? Grief?

“Hey,” said Arthur. “It’s gonna be okay. Kissinger won’t ever get you back.”

For some reason, that just made it worse. “Fuck,” Parker whispered, and turned away into the dark.

“Parker!” Arthur called after him. “Par–”

(Your god is going to need some tri—)

Hastur covered him so suddenly that he had no chance to even finish the word.

#

It took eighty-four years for Hastur to be satisfied.

“Mine,” Hastur kept growling, as if Arthur had a string of competitive lovers lining the street below, and “Mine,” Hastur kept growling, as though he wanted Arthur’s wordless cries replaced with vows, and “Mine,” Hastur kept growling, but all Arthur could do was moan, because it had gone beyond pleasure or pain into bell-ringing, ear-burning, brain-numbing madness.

This was more than scooped out and replaced. This was scraped clean and painted too many times over, and Arthur felt like his original canvas had began to thin.

His blood was spiced with Hastur’s heat. It didn’t hurt? Exactly? It was too much. Too much, and Arthur came again, yet again, and he sobbed. “Yours,” he managed, clinging, clutching. “Please stop. Hastur. I’m yours. Stop.”

Hastur stopped.

(Triage)

Stopped, and stared down at him, somehow communicating horrified wonder without a moving face. “There… there,” said Hastur, breathy. “Little detective. You’re all right. You’re all right.”

Arthur privately made it a goal to make him breathe like that again. “I’m okay,” he slurred. He could feel the tree-branch current of nerves under his skin, humming unceasingly, and he groaned.

Surprisingly tender (curiously ashamed?) Hastur began the healing.

The folding back together took a while. Something had panicked his partner, made Hastur forget not everyone was made of rubber and stone, but it was okay. Hastur was fixing it, following every hair-wide branch of jangled nerves and abraded veins, soothing every sharp bite of shattered bone and burning blood.

It was wonderful. This meticulous aftercare was somehow even better than the sex that led to it. Arthur felt very loved. He felt very safe. It made him all sniffly.

But Hastur was still upset. It was obvious. He kept growling.

Arthur wanted to fix it. “It’s okay,” he reassured when he remembered how to talk. “It’s gonna be okay.”

“Fuck,” Parker whispered, somewhere in the dark, sounding shaken and afraid.

Parker. Parker was here. Arthur had forgotten he existed. “Oh, hey,” he said, his lips still bleeding, his throat still sore.

“Fuck,” Parker said again. “That’s what you’re doing to him? No wonder he’s broken.”

“I do as he wishes,” Hastur snarled, which was true because of how good a partner Hastur was. “He wants to forget who he is, to pay for what he’s done. He wants to suffer.”

“Fuck that,” Parker snapped. “You think I don’t know he hated pain? You think I don’t know I pushed him? I did that because he hated it.”

What a weird thing to say.

But oh, that growl turned threatening, and oh, some limbs left Arthur’s still-aching skin as if to point at Parker.

“Yeah,” said Parker with relish. “And I fucked him through it, and made him come while crying. Your point, dandelion king?”

And Arthur couldn’t—

Arthur tried but could not—

He couldn’t make it make sense, and it had to make sense, because that’s how things worked (Not in the Dreamlands, little one, said Mama Laveau in his head, and he ignored that shit). So he closed his eyes.

The moment he did, it all settled down.

The lingering pain, strange and deep, like he’d been fucked by a car. The thrumming nerves, still pulsing with pleasure, like that car-fucking had been the best thing that ever happened. The presence of Hastur, deforming his mind like an elbow on a pillow. The cold, weird weight of whatever Mama Laveau (Shub-Niggurath) had given to him to make things right.

And Parker, breathing in the shadows like preparing for a fight.

Arthur closed his eyes. Took a moment. And he got it. It was a ruse. A goad. And his partner was falling for it, hook, line, and sinker. “Don’t,” Arthur said.

A beat.

“Don’t what, little detective?” said Hastur.

“Don’t hurt him. He wants you to. He thinks…” It was slipping. “He’ll… get… points, or something.”

Hastur’s dangerous rumble changed, switching timbre from angry to pleased. “You’re right. That’s so good, Arthur. To think, he almost got me!” A horrible laugh. “How pathetic.”

“You’re just shaken because we saw Mama Laveau,” said Arthur, because that would shake anybody.

“That would shake anybody,” Parker confirmed, low. “I can’t believe she came out to see you. She doesn’t see nobody but her fucking favorite witch.”

Asenath. Arthur was already sure of that. “She’s not that exclusive.”

Parker snorted. “Yeah, she is. She’s favored you since day one, apparently. If I’d had any fucking idea she’d been giving you things like the Ever Knife, I’d have slowed the whole damn plan down.”

“The… what?” said Arthur, who couldn’t remember.

“And you think he would have let you,” said Hastur, somehow sounding like a crouching lion, ready to pounce.

“Sure,” said Parker. “Wouldn’t be the first time.” And his voice caught. “He trusted me. I… he trusted me.”

“You mistake inability with trust,” said Hastur. “He couldn’t do anything but wait on you.”

“No! He trusted me. I’d earned it. He knew I was all in!”

“And yet turned on you without hesitation for something you had absolutely no control over,” said Hastur as though he’d just been waiting to drop that guillotine.

Parker fell silent.

Arthur shook his head. “Kissinger didn’t deserve you,” he said, eyes still closed. “You’re rough around the edges, but you’re not… you deserve a partner—“ (god) “—as faithful as you are.”

“There’s no such thing,” Parker said, and it felt honest, and it felt grieved, and it felt surrendered.

“Hastur is,” said Arthur, and couldn’t understand why Hastur’s hands suddenly went still.

“What,” said Parker.

“I fucked up at the end,” said Arthur, eyes screwed as tightly shut as he could manage. “I could’ve told him my plan, but I didn’t. He didn’t know what was coming any more than you did. He still forgave me.”

There was a long moment of silence.

Arthur shifted, hurt, moaned, and Hastur resumed healing, resumed comforting, and that made it better.

“He didn’t know for real?” said Parker, sounding amazed. “So when I bound him…”

“I thought I’d lost,” said Hastur in a rare moment of honesty, and Arthur had to reward that.

“You’re doing so good,” Arthur said, turning his sore neck (with sore lips and tongue) to minister to whatever part of Hastur was nearest. It felt good to kiss him, to lick; to gentle the storm that had hit them both.

(He didn’t have names for any of the parts he touched. That was okay. It was all Hastur.)

Parker’s laugh was cracked and crumbling. “Fuck. We all fucked it up. All of us.”

“I did not,” said Hastur.

He had, but Arthur knew better than to push right now. “He forgave me. That’s what good partners do.”

“You’re out of your godsdamned mind,” said Parker.

Arthur swallowed. “Maybe. It doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

“Why are you talking to him? You killed him,” said Hastur, suddenly, as though upset Arthur was talking to somebody else. “Remember?”

Arthur shuddered. “I had to stop him,” he said, tremulous and fading. “It doesn’t mean I wanted it to happen.”

“Why are you trying to comfort him?” said Hastur, growing louder. “Why did you even ask for him to begin with?”

Arthur opened his eyes (which was a mistake). “It’s not obvious?” Hastur twisted before him like vertigo taken form, and Arthur closed his eyes again.

“No,” said Hastur, flat. “It is not at all obvious to me why you asked for him, or why I listened.”

Damn it, this question mattered (triage), but Arthur couldn’t think, was aching in a way Hastur could not heal. “Because he needed it,” Arthur finally said.

A beat.

And Parker somehow knew it was coming. “Don’t say it.”

“Even with the knowledge he withheld regarding who killed your daughter?” said Hastur, almost joyful because Arthur had sprung that trap with both hands, and it was

Too late

Faroe cold, Faroe sticky, Faroe riddled with bullets

Too late

Faroe silent, and all the complaints Arthur had ever made about noisy babies lodged in his side like unholy spear-heads

Too late

Arthur screamed.

He tore at his face, his eyes, as though he could rip these thoughts out, and Hastur stopped him, and Parker shouted something like you asshole, and

#

Darkness.

A voice.

Warning?

Instructions.

Three sentences, stated in the dark, given as a gift like the dagger had been, like the jewel. Whom he had to look for. What he could expect. What would happen if he failed.

Her voice, Mama Laveau’s, filling his mind, howling across the unconscious void, just the same three sentences growing like the sound of an oncoming train—

#

Arthur woke. The three sentences nestled behind conscious thought like burglars behind a bush, in wait.

Nothing hurt.

Physically, nothing hurt.

He felt safe, snug; warm, compressed. Wrapped in so many tentacles, held against his monster-god’s torso.

“Good morning, little detective,” said Hastur, sounding pleased.

Something… there was something. “I…”

“Yes?” said Hastur, already anticipating, tentacles sliding over one another and curling at their tips.

Arthur’s brain filled it in. “Can’t believe that ambulance was stolen. Who the fuck? It’s not like there are so many of them. What’re they gonna do with it, anyway? Break it down for parts?”

“Mm, perhaps,” said Hastur, going right along with the story.

“Yeah. A chop-shop. Parts are so damn rare as it is, but we can’t let them do that.” Arthur sat up, stared at the cyclopean knife-edges of this horrible place, blinked, and saw his grimy brown apartment with its incredible view. “The doctors need that thing, you know?”

“For… the wounded?” Hastur said.

“I said ‘ambulance,’ Hastur,” said Arthur, teasing a little, sliding out of bed to make coffee, and bounced off Parker Yang.

Arthur was off-balance and fell backwards. Hastur caught him.

Parker’s hair was everywhere, and his face was creased as if he’d slept on his arm on a table or something. He stared down at Arthur. “Ambulance? What are you talking about?”

“It’s our case, Yang,” said Arthur. “We were hired.”

Parker just stared at him.

“Well, now,” rumbled Hastur, already purring, tentacles sliding over Arthur with possessive familiarity. “Perhaps we can do with help from the police.”

Arthur made a face. “We need the pay. But… fuck, you’re right. This is too important to go solo.”

"What?" said Parker, who usually wasn't this slow on the uptake.

“You need coffee, too,” Arthur decided, finally pulling away from Hastur and going to dump what was left of yesterday’s.

“Oh, shit,” said Parker, snatching the coffee pot (some strange sharp vase with sigils on it that hurt to see). “Easy!”

“You wanna make the coffee?” said Arthur.

Hastur laughed, low.

Parker wore the expression he had last night—pained, maybe guilty, hard to fully comprehend because it wasn’t in line with his usual faces.

“Do you want his help, Arthur?” said Hastur, sounding pleased as punch. “It seems to me it might be a good idea.”

Arthur sighed. “Look, asshole, we do need help. That ambulance matters to people.”

“Am… bu… sure,” said Parker, and turned away to rub at his eyes. “Fuck. Not you.”

“You were fine with him being erased, but not crazy?” said Hastur (which Arthur ignored, running water to make coffee).

“That was different. That was an honor. He’d have been lauded. This is… this is just cruel.”

“To whom?” said Hastur.

Parker said nothing.

Arthur made coffee. Arthur stood at the enormous window (gardens that made no sense plants that fucking moved) and stared out at Cloud City, at its curves and color, and wondered. “Why the fuck would they take an ambulance?” he muttered. “Gotta be a reason. I mean… could’ve taken a lot of the cars out there. Why an ambulance?”

Slowly, almost cautiously, Parker joined him, staring not at the view, but at him. “Maybe for parts, like you said?”

“No,” said Arthur. “I have a gut feeling. That’s not why. Here, let me pour you some.”

Whatever he handed Parker made the man wince, holding it gingerly, and he didn’t drink.

Whatever. His caffeine to waste. Arthur downed his and turned to his partner. “Let’s get moving. I have a really bad feeling about this.”

“Then move, we shall,” said Hastur magnanimous, and picked him up to dress him.

“Fuck’s sake,” said Parker softly.

“What?” said Arthur, obediently stretching his arms over his head.

“Nothing,” Parker muttered. “Sure you want me along on this, Lester?”

“Yes,” said Arthur. “You’ve got your problems, fuck knows, but we’ll need help on this one.”

“Why?” said Parker.

“They’re gonna pretend,” said Arthur suddenly. “It’s a fake-out. They’re gonna use it to get to the governor! We gotta move!”

Parker just looked at Hastur.

“Come or don’t,” said Hastur, putting Arthur down.

And Arthur was off. He knew just where to go.

#

“Keep up!” he shouted behind him because Yang was lagging again (“We’ve been running for a fucking hour!”), and there was no time to waste.

They’d come to the edge of Hastur’s city and skirted it, just running along the outer wall, and Arthur knew what he was looking for, nevermind that he couldn’t say it, and knew his partner (partners?) would have his back, and knew the smell was the right way to go.

The smell of fish.

Salt-water.

Weed-rot.

Ahead, just ahead, was a dark alley (a gap in the hedge), and Arthur plunged through without hesitation, fists clenched, ready to punch out any monsters he saw on his way to his goal.

“Where the fuck are we goin?” Parker shouted back there somewhere, which was remarkably amateur of him.

“Another’s territory,” said Hastur, grim, and stopped Parker short.

Arthur had already run inside.

It was a walled section inside Hastur’s walls—a sort of preserve, an area, evidently owned by one person. The man sitting there (not a man not a man NOT A MAN) hunched over his own lap as though he had nothing to live for, staring out over the nasty water of a pond (not a pond) big enough to diminish him, though he was huge. Scum lapped at his legs, which were calf-deep in the water. He stared out at nothing, visibly unhappy, ignoring their approach.

“Oh, fuck!” said Yang from somewhere back there, and the man looked up.

He was big, meaty; a strong-looking man, a keen-eyed man, with dark reddish hair and mutton-chops and a look like someone who’d start a brawl just so he could

(Huge, larger than Hastur, scale-covered and sharp with spiked fins on his arm and down his spine and on his head, his eyes so shadowed by his brow that his attitude was impossible to read)

empty the bar out and have some peace and quiet.

This man watched Arthur's approach without comment, without smile. Without anything but an uncomfortable darkness, shading his eyes.

Time for the charm. Arthur adjusted his (lacy metal golden collar) tie and approached. “Good morning, sir.”

The man eyed him, unreadable, still except for breathing (and the occasional fluttering of gills).

Arthur stopped at a respectful distance and doffed his hat.

(There was no hat.)

“Well, isn’t this a thing?” said the man (god).

“Got a moment, sir?” said Arthur.

The man grunted, shifting, sending ripples across the scum that lay over the top of the pond like a weird blanket. “Didn’t think you’d make it all the way to visit me with your craziness, crazy man.”

Arthur’s brain translated that into something he needed. “What, you think just because you’re not high society, your vote doesn’t count?”

(“What… no ambulance, now?” said Parker back there.)

(“Evidently not.” They had not come closer.)

The being grunted again and moved, pulling his legs out of the scummy water, rose (up and up and up and up), and walked Arthur’s way.

So tall. So huge, (taller than Hastur), seven feet if he was an inch, and Arthur was not tall, but he swallowed, and didn’t budge.

The being stopped so close that Arthur could hear unusual air moving through those impossible gills. “You think I want to vote in something that has nothing to do with me?” he warned.

Oh, Arthur knew he had to go carefully here. “Sir—”

“Sir!” And the man threw his head back and laughed. “Who in fuck do you think I am, crazy man?”

(“Hastur!”)

(“Shh. Just watch. He is skilled, my little pet.”)

Arthur blinked. “You’re Morrissey Dagon. You own all the fisheries in Cloud City—which makes you rich, and also really dangerous, because the ocean and whatever the fuck is in there doesn’t scare you. I know all about you, sir.”

The man (sharp shark eyes and sharp shark teeth) was grinning now as though considering adding Arthur to whatever was on the menu today. “And you still walked up here to say hello.”

“Of course,” said Arthur as though surprised. “You’re on the Council.”

Morrissey Dagon tilted his head. “I could eat you. I could fuck you, then eat you. I could wing you over my head like a slingshot, send you over the wall so H’aaztre has to go chasing down your body in wherever the Dreamlands sends you.”

Arthur’s brain translated: they’d never find your body, and your partner will weep alone.

He swallowed hard. “Yes, sir. You could. “But this isn’t about me, sir, or even about you. This is about everyone else.”

Dagon growled.

It was different from Hastur’s growl (though the same birth defect, maybe), a pulsing and resonant thing, like it was somehow meant to sound underwater. “Why in fuck should I care about them?”

Arthur blinked. “Why should you… care about other people?”

“Mine are all gone.” Dagon rumbled like some oceanic devil. “Every last one, at least down there. You get that, crazy man? Do you? I lost them all!”

Arthur winced, gripping his ears. That last line had been so loud (louder than humans could be) and he felt warm wetness on his hands, but refused to look at it. “You... lost…”

“My whole family. Turns out they’re fucking susceptible to waterborne radioactive poisoning. Go the fuck figure,” Dagon growled.

And Arthur

(Faroe)

heard him and fully understood and

(and if he let this subsume him now and lost the plot he’d lose the vote)

took a shuddery shaky choked-up breath and answered. “I get that. Mister Dagon, I… I get that. I lost my—” (it wanted to swallow him whole) “—daughter. I know.” And he couldn’t help one tiny little sob.

Dagon stared at him, unreadable again, eyes shadowed. “You did, huh?”

Arthur’s voice was almost steady. “I do. I know. You… want to give up.” He swallowed, vision wavering, Cloud City smearing like a painting under heat. “Things like not wearing the same clothes for a week don’t matter anymore. You get aggressive, like maybe you hope someone will do the right thing and take you out, but they don’t, and they won’t, and you just have to wake up every damn day and it keeps happening, but she doesn’t come back, isn’t there when you wake, and the ones responsi… the ones who… who did it… got away.” Arthur's voice sounded distant even to him, over the rushing in his ears, a roaring flood, a rising clamor, and he didn’t realize he was hyperventilating until Dagon picked him up.

(Vague snarling back there like some dog robbed of its food)

Arthur dangled, hands up in a harmless gesture, eyes wide, held by his lapels

(by a giant hand around his waist)

up to eye level. “You’re real fucked up, too, huh?” Dagon said, low.

Focus. Focus. Just a little bit longer. “Yeah. Guess I am. But the vote’s really gotta… it matters. It matters.”

“Why?” said Dagon, quietly.

And Arthur said it, just said it, just went to that place. “How different would things be for you if someone had given a fuck about your family the way I’m asking you to give a fuck about other people’s?”

Dagon did not have a readable face. When still like that, terrifying like that, the stuff of deep-sea domains like that, danger was the only obvious projection. “Too late for me.”

“And for me,” said Arthur, low. “But not for them. Please.”

Dagon sighed slowly, deeply. “You’re kinda endearing, crazy man. I’ll think about it. I won’t promise you, so stop fuckin’ asking. But I’ll… think about it.” And surprisingly gently, he put Arthur down.

Arthur couldn’t stop shaking. Judgment loomed, an undertow, ready to pull him down.

“Aww, poor thing,” said Dagon, and patted him on the head. “You get on home, now.” Then he took Arthur by the shoulders, turned him around, and shoved him toward the exit.

Off-balance, Arthur staggered forward, carried that way merely because his own weight angled him forward, and his legs didn't want to fall down.

Hastur waited. Hand out. Not stepping through the gap in the hedge (territory), clearly eager for Arthur to return to him.

Parker did not look or sound calm. He shouted something, waved both arms.

Arthur couldn’t hear them. The rushing in his ears, the deep current of shame, eroded his mind with every step, and he tried to recall why he was really here—the case, something about a theft—but he could not, could only hear Faroe’s sweet giggle, could only feel her cold blood, and he staggered.

The bracelet on his wrist tightened suddenly, sharply, enough to cut his skin.

It sliced through the fog. He cried out and stopped, looking down, staring at the droplets of blood welling through the hole of each tiny link like eyes weeping red.

His vision went dark.

#

The undertow stopped.

The howling in his mind ceased as if someone had shut a door, and Arthur looked up.

The hedge was gone. The daylight was gone. He stood in a dark place, quiet except for the soft howl of air currents far above, surrounded by tall, black shapes like enormous coffins.

The bracelet fucking hurt, but something about it… it was like a knife made of ice, cutting through impossible fog, and he could think. (Could not remember the bad thing, not right now.) Vaguely, distantly, he knew why he was here.

The three sentences, from his dream. It was happening. This was the vote Mama Laveau wanted him to get in her place.

But it would be a challenge. This vote would be coming from someone on the Council who’d never, ever voted, who was locked away in mourning, who had walked away from the world, who had even less reason than Morrissey Dagon to care.

But Mama Laveau had sent him, and he would do what he had to do.

If only he could see. There must have been windows somewhere. Cold, lean light from maybe the moon kissed the tops of the coffin-whatevers (far too big too be coffins, bigger even than Dagon), but below that was only darkness.

This was where the Lady lived? Arthur swallowed. “Hello?”

“How in fuck?” came behind him, and a knife pressed into his back. “How in fuck, dude?”

The last of the three sentences: Her assistant won’t kill you if you don’t give her need.

Arthur would not give her need. “I’m sorry to bother you,” he started.

The knife dug in (though not as sharply as the bracelet). “I said,” threatened the young woman’s voice, “how in fuck? How did you get in here? Who are you? What the fuck do you want with her?”

Arthur swallowed. “Mama Laveau sent me. I don’t mean any harm, and I don’t want anything but just to talk to the Lady for a moment. I swear.”

A pause. “Mama who?”

And the next voice that came rose from this entire place, from everywhere, from the bookshelves (that’s what the coffin-things were), from the floor, the unseen ceiling, the moonlight itself. “Did she, now? That is quite a bold claim. Tabby, bring him to me. I would like to see his face.”

The woman named Tabby gripped his arm, and her knife-point didn’t leave his kidney. “Move. Try stupid shit and you are fucking ganked.”

Arthur walked where tugged. “Ganked?”

A sigh. “Just walk.”

Arthur did.

It was like walking in a tomb, in a mausoleum, in a graveyard if all the dead were somehow standing but no less full of all they once were. He caught glimpses of the books and scrolls that packed the shelves, spines burned and crinkled, gilded lettering all but destroyed; he heard his own steps snapping back at him like accusations, echoed by walls too far for him to see.

Mama Laveau’s words were clear. Three sentences. So simple. Tabby was obviously the assistant. But the last sentence… that’s what scared him most.

If you don’t get her vote, I think you’re going to lose, mon cherie.

Arthur walked in the dark, at Tabby’s prompts, and hoped his charm was up to snuff, because he knew that warning was right.

#malevolent #malevolent au #malevolent fic #cloud city #yellow city #arthur lester #the king in yellow/arthur lester #parker yang

[baronfulmen]

since you made that post, i hope it's okay to ask for info? i'm impacted by US politics but don't know that much about them

i completely agree with you about voting being a must (i'm personally a palestinian with an isr*eli ID, so even though i do not want to legitimize their govt by playing at voting, i do it each and every election to try and curb the fascism... pretty unsuccessfully i would say, but i think of all the people who cant even vote in this 'democracy' and i cast my one vote)

and i saw a post explaining how in the US system, voting for a third candidate is basically throwing your vote in the garbage (very perplexing and vexing), but HOW, out of 300 MILLION people, the only two options are 'genocider' or 'dictator'. that's, as someone put it, the illusion of choice, like a choice between eating dogshit or horseshit. sorry for the language.

i've known Biden's anti-palestine stance for YEARS, and i still posted a lot encouraging people to vote for him, and i know that this genocide under trump wouldn't have been any better for anyone, but what kind of message would it be for him to get re-elected immediately after unquestionably funding and fully supporting this horrific phase of my people's ethnic cleansing.

so if it's not naive to ask: isn't there A N Y other option? idk forcing him to step down (since he refuses to keel over already), another democratic candidate, some form of litigation, or direct action, or anything??? do americans really have so little choice that they have to basically do election charades?

sorry for the long ask, i guess i am not immune to the USA's ''''freedom'''' propaganda

Most of it comes down to it being a two party system. First of all, just to be clear, it is always POSSIBLE for our parties to change. This can happen over time with shifts in priorities and ideologies, or (way less likely but theoretically possible) by having another party show up and take the place of one of the current ones.

But to become president you need a majority of votes from the electoral college and we don't have ranked voting (which would go a long way towards fixing some stuff) so that's always going to result in two big entrenched parties. Those parties then have a primary goal of remaining in power, since if they don't they can't accomplish anything else - plus because we have no effective restrictions on how money influences politics the politicians are basically ALWAYS campaigning for their next election rather than actually focusing on doing anything good (and they're getting the money primarily from corporate interests).

On the local level you can get some good people in there, and you can even get third party or independent candidates elected. And that's one way to change things, start really pushing at the local level and pack the government with politicians that are closer to the ones you really want to see. This happened (but in the worst way) with the Republicans, really getting big with the Tea Party movement which flooded the government with absolute nutjobs. It worked so well they doubled down, which is why we now have people like Marjorie Taylor Greene or Lauren Boebert or Donald Trump.

This same thing could be done but in a GOOD way, but much like Trump didn't get elected in a vacuum we would need to get the right people into Congress first. Short of that? Biden is bad, but in the same way all presidents are bad. He's not doing anything that his party doesn't approve of, so there's no reason for the Democrats to try and oust him AND no benefit if they did since he'd be replaced by someone that's functionally the same.

So, yeah. The presidential election really is just about voting for the lesser evil, and really people need to get WAY more involved locally.

That's all applicable to stuff in general, but when it comes to Israel specifically there's some other complicated shit going on that I'm not really qualified to speak on but which doesn't actually hinge on genuine support or non-support for Israel or Palestine at all, and is actually related to some Christian doomsday shit which I know sounds like a conspiracy theory but... well... we have some very influential people in this country that are eagerly looking forward to the Second Coming and judgement day and this has had a VERY real impact on our foreign policies. Just look up our current Speaker of the House, Mike Johnson.

I hope this answers some of your questions.

[kitsu-katsu]

That person is and I are around the same age -- full blown adults in fandom! and they're still spewing the same stuff that made me feel uncomfortable in fandom spaces for a decade.

There's two issues here 1) they're spouting off like the mere acting of shipping a couple somehow making them amazing iconic representation. I loved Legend of Korra and Catradora is the same old thing that happened there. Two female characters that had amazing potential that weren't allowed to do anything until the last episode of the series because no one wanted or was able to actually rock the boat and develop them beyond them beyond the big reveal. Shipping doesn't fix that the canon material fell short. It just means you liked the potential and fandom did something with it that the show didn't. 2) The constant squawking about how how romantic relationships ARE found family is incredibly missing the the point. Like, this isn't even about our little Minecraft dudes and I don't think they've realized this, but they've expressed some level of disdain about every. single. platonic. pairing. Even the platonic pairing of John and Sherlock versus the romantic one got a digital equivalent of an eyeroll. Like, for people not interested in romantic relationships they aren't the same. For people who are interested in romantic relationships they're not the same. A romantic relationship is NOT a fix all that covers every single other type of dynamic and then adds something more (which is how it comes off). It makes people feel like they should just be happy with the romance because it should already cover whatever other emotional need they have, or that they're missing out on something if it doesn't include it, and I don't anyone realizes it comes off.

Saying friendships in fandom, or even media in general, isn't neglected or shoved off as something less shows a complete disregard for fandom history. Every tv show and movie shoves in a romance. Fandom will fucking make a popular ship out of demon hunting brothers if there's no other romance option. Fandom will have only 6 platonic relationships in the top 100 and go "why do you guys care about these all of these romance pairings ALSO consider themselves family" and not see the issue.

FUCKING PREACH

It gets me mad, for real

And the fact that all of these people saying stuff like this act in that twitter activism "I'm more morally righteous than you because I ship poc lesbians and think they should win" type of way only makes it so much worse

I do not give a damn if fandom went off the walls and did amazing things with them while the canon material held off until the end kiss, I don't give a damn if they started off as bffs or wanted to kill eachother, I don't give a damn if they were always canon. You are not morally superior to me because you ship gay ships that were canonized in the last episode

Breaking news! Gay ships are always the biggest ships

Breaking news! We are not doing "what event in media changed the game for representation" olympics anyway, we are talking about fandom space which functions differently to talking about the media landscape at large, so I don't particularly care how hard it may have been to get a canon gay kiss in, fandom has fanon gay kisses of every character under the sun galore

Breaking news! Romance is ALWAYS put over friendships and platonic relationships of any kind. You are not a radical, you are not revolutionary, and saying that not voting your poc lesbians is "racist and lesphobic" is quite frankly ridiculous and typical "twitter user is grasping at straws to morally condemn something they really dislike for a petty reason" behavior

The undervaluing of platonic bonds while romance means "more than friends" is not an act of revolution. It is literally the voice of amatonormativity. You are not bringing home some big W for the queers that you think you are, and calling very possibly aro people homophobic again and again because your sorry ship is for once losing is not the gotcha you think it is

I don't care about your "found family" if it's actually "these two are in love and they kiss passionately, then there's the other filler guys, anyways, have I told you that the lesbians kiss yet??" And I also don't care about your found family if it's actually "3 monogamous romantic pairings in a trenchcoat"

Can you call them found family? Yeah. Is it the type of platonic-centric one that would ACTUALLY be a surprise if it won in a fandom context? Hell no

Because fandom ships. Romantically. It is just what fandom does. As you said Firesnap, every tv show and movie shoves in a romance and fandom will ship two brothers if left out of options

Saying that the little, rare, purely platonic dynamics there are worth an eye roll because "oh these are also found family" when what people actually care about is the romance aspect is so infuriating

I don't want your romance. I don't care. It is not revolutionary like you think. Fandom always ships gay anyway. Society at large always undervalues friendship and platonic relationships of all kinds because it means "just friends". And holy shit, wanting a platonic dynamic to have a W for fucking once in a largely romance-only space does not make you homophobic or racist, what are you on about?

#kitsu rambles #amatonormativity #aro #aromantic #aroace #this is so /neg #I will start biting people again. whenever they use the homophobic argument I see red #like bro. shall I bring my girlfriend with me to testify to you that gay ships are always king in fandom? as if you didn't know?

[dxmoness]

𝐌𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐒 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄'𝐒 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓

DAY ??? ➢ Kidus x Medea & Griselda (separate)

NOTE ➢ For @ykassu / @ylxntis! Sorry for the wait!! This took so long to figure out, but here it is!

WORD COUNT ➢ 2.4K

MEDEA!

The uninterested female had once assumed that she was never going to enjoy the company of another person unless she had some kind of use for them in her future plans; an example of this would be none other than Helio Niccolo.

This, of course, was proven wrong when Kidus came along. At first she found herself looking at them with such interest due to their strong hatred and attitude against the prince.

Kidus seemed very annoyed or irritated with Eros whom didn't understand what he could've possibly done, most likely had been a b*tch towards them as Eros no doubt would do after all he had no regard for your status or anything you did that proved important or no. He'll treat you any way he satisfies himself. This thought caused her to question if the female was of any important use towards her future goals. The answer had been a yes. Voted by both her and Helio when they were discussing it.

When Medea asked Kidus to join her, they fit right in. Kidus was not one to ignore the intentions behind this sudden request so they easily put two and two together.

"You want to kill the prince or at least take revenge, is that right?" This caused Medea to question her choice. A person who knew transparency even through a strongly guarded person like herself would not be good for her team now would it? Sure, she had some potential for trying to find out Eros's moods but.. could she really be able to order them for missions?

"Yes, I do. It seems you're one of the first to ever notice such a feeling against the prince from myself." Kidus noted that the female was choosing her words wisely. Was it because of her surprising management of reading people's mood or was it the mere question asked? It didn't matter for Kidus knew already that they needed to fix the doubt that was left in the heart of the duke's daughter.

"I see. Whatever you desire shall be mine to be done, my lady." A hint of a smile appeared dancing on their lips. "After all, it would be a sin to be against such a manipulator such as yourself." And that was all it took. Though Medea didn't believe a word they said. She thought there was no point in beating around the bush.

The brief explanation of the plan caught Kidus's attention. Their eyes fixated on the purple-haired who passionately explained a plan of murder as if it was a simple discussion of the day's weather.

Days grew past as Medea paid more attention to Marquess Helio to even remind herself that she had the other one awaiting orders or even a simple letter.

Kidus grew impatient and even scared of what was going on in the mind of their mistress. Medea didn't bother sending anything. Though they had never planned on betraying them (Medea and Helio), should they take the risk? No. Perhaps they were just misinterpreting the situation. If Lady Medea did not want their help, perhaps they're not needed in the current circumstances.

Just as they finished their conclusion on the subject, two taps were heard on the window. Eyes lifting, she found herself face-to-face with the marquess himself. Feet padding quietly as possible, they swung the window open, the night air gushing inside the room making it chilly. "Helio?" They blinked in surprise as he handed them a letter.

"For you. Lady Medea sends her apologies for the long wait." The marquess murmured, purple eyes staring at their own. "I will take my leave now."

They felt utmost embarrassed of their thoughts before as they tried getting the attention of the marquess. "Are you sure? If need be, I can always find you a room here." "No need." Helio responded almost immediately. "I am perfectly fine, please read the letter and follow the instructions. I'll go now, my lady." And with a graceful jump he managed off the window and back on the ground. As they looked out the window, Helio gave them a meaningful glance before moving past the trees disappearing into the night.

Kidus turned around and sighed softly. Their eyes fixed onto the letter with the purple wax stamp of the Solons. Lips unmoving, they took hold of the letter. For some reason its weight was more than it looked. Why?

Ripping it open, they pulled out a letter from the lady. Reading its contents they found that Lady Medea had finally started her plan, starting with the father whom she hated with all her being.

Medea also mentioned that she wanted to meet them if possible for a better, and more secure explanation of her plan's lineup and situation.

The river, midnight. The time was questionable, but they told themselves that it was not for them to question.

Taking a coat, they used the window as their exit after all walking out the door would raise suspicion from both their servants and their neighboring nobles as well.

Running quickly, they found themselves in the river almost immediately. Judging by the moonlight, they assumed it was already midnight.

Right on cue, they heard footsteps behind them. "Lady Medea?" They turned only to be met by a near swing of a sword that they nearly couldn't dodge. Their eyes fixated on the person's face and moved to disarm him of his deadly weapon only to be pushed back as he remained recklessly swinging the blade, no specific move was being played he just simply wanted them to be terrified over this moment and in truth it was working. Sooner or later, they might as well take the river as an escape from this dangerous dance of blades.

As they thought this, their luck in dodging finally came to a close as they managed to trip on a rock, causing their ankle to twist and now sprained. As for the male who was attempting the murder, a mere laugh emerged from him. Sword lung high, he was ready to murder the other for all they were worth. He lunged forward now, sword heading towards them. Almost killed.

Almost.

Crimson splattered onto them, drenching them in the dark red liquid. Lifting their eyes, heart pounding in their chest as they felt scared of who the threat was now. They found themselves staring back at a pair of violet eyes. Lady Medea.

"You.." Their voice faltered as they watched her move towards them. In fear of getting in a heated argument about being too dangerously risky with her, Kidus remained silent.

Medea eyed them with worry in her mind. Was she too late? Had they been hurt? Curse Helio! Why would he think she'd send someone whom she'd never ever trust to deliver such a letter! That man nearly killed her ally. But.. Why did she care? Wasn't Kidus a pawn for her to use? Why would she care!

"Are you.. alright?" Medea sounded sincere and her face gave off a different look. A look of care and a look of disappointment towards herself.

"I'm fine… Did you know..?" "No. Heli thought I sent the letter to him through another man, but it's proven not to be the case." Medea's voice seemed to falter as she then whispered quietly. "I apologize I was nearly too late to save you."

Kidus blinked in surprise. What was this? Lady Medea apologizing?? Was the world ending? "There's no need to apologize." They started as they touched her shoulder. The female quivered and let herself get engulfed in a hug.

The feeling that she felt at the moment was foreign. Too foreign. It felt nice. And it felt normal. A feeling she didn't want to let go of. Touching the arms that wrapped around her, she gripped it tightly to ensure that the hug won't be broken anytime soon.

Kidus and Medea never stopped doing things like that afterwards. To the point that Medea found the one thing she thought she'd never find. Love.

She and Kidus were in love. That was obvious enough for everyone else. So when there were rumors of them dating, Medea found the opportunity to actually say her feelings. A confession that she never thought she'd make and words she'd never thought she'd utter.

The person in front of her made her feel whole. And she was ready to fight and die for their love and for the things they had yet to do.

GRISELDA!

Kidus was or had been the pet of Griselda Agriche. That was until the deal the two had made with one another.

"Pretend we're in love and I'll let you go." Those words continued to haunt them as the time passed on.

The two had built a pretty good act in which Kidus was the lover of the one and only Griselda Agriche. Though not everyone bought such an act.

A person that didn't buy it for example was Fontaine Agriche who immediately assumed Griselda was only doing it so she'd have a bigger advantage. In truth Griselda just wanted affection and she liked Kidus so she simply hoped it'd work out in the end. But, then again when has anything ever worked out in a relationship between an Agriche and an outsider?

While Griselda was falling for Kidus, Kidus on the other hand had one thing in mind. Freedom.

To them this was all for them to be free and finally leave the hell known as the Agriches. It never occured to them that their mistress was secretly in love with them in any way nor did they realize the dangers of the ever growing suspicion of the Agriches.

Now they were heading for a tea party with Maria Agriche who was another wife of the infamous Lant Agriche. This particular wife was mad. Like seriously mad. Though they had to be mad if they wanted to marry THAT man. Anyway, this day was going to be a headache because of this particular tea party.

Everyone was seated and of course Maria started the talk on Kidus and Griselda's relationship and how it was ever so romantic that they were once mistress and pet, but now lovers and partners.

Let her think that. Kidus thought to themselves as they pushed the urge of saying that the compliments of their supposed relationship were far too much for their sake.

Griselda somehow managed to get Maria to cease talking about such a topic once she pointed out that Sierra looked pretty in the new dress she was wearing. When Maria agreed in the most immediate and quick way, it occured to Kidus. Was Lady Maria in love with Lady Sierra?

The female almost always assisted the other or at least cared one bit about her. Not once had she, Maria, ever not get distracted at the mere mention of Sierra Agriche.

Sierra seemed to be in pain when the attention came towards her and waved her hands around in a meaning of it's not that pretty. Though in truth it was extremely pretty on her especially.

"It's beautiful, Sierra! And I envy that it looks so much better on you." Maria said, a hint of envy in her voice but mostly admiration.

Once the meeting was adjourned, Kidus managed to sprint off back to their room to catch a breather. After this would be another pain which was met up with her lover's father who was rather dry and serious more than the others were. Perhaps that's where Master Dion got it from, but she'll never know.

Entering the room she found herself in a room with rows of seats. Sitting next to Griselda the two stayed quiet as the rest of the family came along. Once everyone was there, there was silence. As if on cue, Lant came in with sudden peak interest in joining dinner.

A few hushed whispers were passed around as Lant took his place. Everyone stayed silent awaiting agreement of indulging themselves. Lant gave a nod and everyone ate.

During these times, there was a pressure of being a common birth. Unlike noble birth women they did not exactly know how to work things right. This had caused a fight once on why Lant would ever agree on letting Kidus marry his daughter if they can't even do anything without being taught.

Finishing up her food, Griselda stood up pulling Kidus with her. Fortunately for them now no one took note of their leave as they left.

Now they were back in their room as Kidus collapsed on the bed. Griselda gave her a few pats in hope of calming her 'lover' down. It worked for a little bit, but Kidus once again shut out on her after a quick reminder of who she was to them which was one word nothing. In that room earlier was the feeling of hatred and ill will towards them and their mistress's family.

"Sorry." Her mistress's voice cut the silence that had ruled the room until now. "I shouldn't have…"

"It's okay." Kidus wiped their tears as they sat up suddenly. "It's not your fault. It's mine for thinking I could handle it.."

"No, it's my fault for bothering to ask." Griselda was blaming herself for the now depressed person in front of her. If she hadn't done this and just freed her perhaps Kidus would be gone and happy now. "If I hadn't.. maybe you would be fine by now.."

Kidus frowned at this. So she blamed herself. That was true, but she didn't have to be cruel to herself. "It's alright.. I swear." Kidus put an arm around their lover's waist as the poor female cried in guilt.

After minutes, Kidus felt her shivering body come to a stop. Hopefully meaning she was now calm enough, they gave her peck on the cheek. This caused Griselda to go through a paroxysm of surprise as well as shock.

"Y-You..!" Griselda could no longer speak because the sudden movement caused her mind to cease thinking of words. Face crimson in a flustered mess. She felt so very different. That kiss caused her to feel so different. Even if she was the one in love, why was she the one feeling differently? Should it not be the other person who wasn't before?

As for Kidus, they found themselves embarrassed at their sudden impulsive movement. Could they have been so quick to the point that they had not realized how big of a problem this could be to their mistress?

They, both parties, were embarrassed to say the least though a lot of emotion roamed their minds right now.

After the silence came the apologies and their night went on as normal. Though there was a spark of actual feelings in this fake relationship. Now it felt less like acting, and more loving.

[alreadyblondenow]

A not so Cinderella story

“I’m the only one in this room that knows you don’t have panties underneath this beautiful dress”

Pairing: football play! Jeno Lee x female cheerleader! reader

Genre: SMUT, FLUFF, enemies to lovers

WC: 4,507k

Warnings: mentions of food, as requested the reader here is a cheerleader so the character is fit. Please dont come at me. Public oral sex (female receiving) (inside school classroom), swearing, unprotected sex, mentions of rough sex, the sex was just inspired by Diggity Jeno hahaha, a lot of cliché moments here, mentions of bruises and dislocated bones (bc athletes) NOTHING DESCRIPTIVE IT WAS JUST MENTIONED

A/N: NOT PROOFREAD. I’ll fix it once I get my internet connection back. Part of Request Party. Also Jeno has been wrecking me lately.

—————

Peanut butter and jelly. That’s the perfect way to describe you and Lee Jeno.

The famous sandwich is known with its unbalancing tastes of flavors where the tastes of peanut butter and jam always fights in your mouth, but that’s what makes it so delicious. Something so unfit, unbalanced, contradicts, but still they’re better together. And just like the sandwich, you and Jeno are two different mixing flavors.

As the captain of the football team, and you as the captain of the squad, people around you expect that you ‘mix’ well with each other to the point that they expect you to be dating by this time.

“Nope. Not gonna happen. I hate him, he hates me. Let’s just accept that,” you whine to your friends as they ask you to take Jeno as your date for the dance this weekend. “It’s an exciting masquerade party, please let me enjoy my night without that dick ruining it,”

“And speaking of Jeno’s dick. Look at the size of that... Mmm,” one of your friends said and pointed to the side of the field where the football team are practicing and Lee Jeno’s shorts are just... so thin that his big dick is obvious.

“RIP to that pussy he’s fucking after dance...” another one comments.

“Okay, continue your drooling after practice. I need your full attention now. Let’s go! Move your asses!”

And just like that the captain in you is out in no time, earning respect from your friends and even impressing the guys from the football team. Of course everyone admired your leadership, skills and well... hot body. That’s why Jeno’s focus is nowhere to found the moment he heard you shouting from across the field and seeing your nice ass and-

“You can always say that you like her,” Jaemin disturbs Jeno’s thoughts with heavy breathing, sweating handsomely and waving at the students who calls him.

“Yeah, It’s not that simple,” Jeno said.

“Psh. Of course it is. HEY Y/N!!!! JENO SAYS YOU’RE SEXY!”

Jeno’s eyes went big and tried stopping Jaemin but its too late. You heard him already. Everyone, heard him.

“Stop staring at my ass Jeno, go back to practice” you said sternly and rolled your eyes at him. That was hot, Jeno thought.

You see, just like peanut butter and Jelly, you’re two different amazing beings. Each has unique personalities and charm, but you can’t see the good things in Jeno because you’re always blinded by his cocky attitude. But for Jeno, whenever you’re mad at him, annoyed to the core or whenever you talk back at him, he always finds it sexy. Until one day he fell for you, by just looking at you long and hard one perfect afternoon at the cafeteria while you’re busy reading something.

As the school dance commence and everyone had unique masks on their faces tonight, to be honest you quite enjoy it because somehow you feel invisible. You don’t feel popular and people are just so comfortable with talking to you, not knowing that you’re Y/n. And the only people who knew it was you was of course your friends, and you are having a great time.

“She’s the one wearing a white ball gown,” Jaemin whispers to Jeno under the loud party music and howling teenagers, “you owe me captain, it’s not that easy to make her friends talk,”

“Psh. Of course it is, you’re Na Jaemin,” Jeno pats his friend’s shoulder as a thanks and walked towards you with a smile in his face. Confident that you won’t shoo him away because you don’t know that he’s Jeno.

“Looks like I found my princess,” he said with all his might. Looking so handsome and perfect even with his mask on. You can’t help but accept the compliment and flirt back. So you turned towards him, flashing a big and excited smile and so thrilled that someone finally had the guts to call you princess.

“I thought you’d never show up! Now, dance with me!” you reached for his hand and the masked prince immediately twirled you.

Everything was suddenly beyond perfect that you felt like every second was a beautiful well written scene in a fairytale book.

It’s the way he holds you while dancing, telling you the right words that goes straight to your heart and immediately give you a smile. A kind of smile that only the right person can give you. But of course, you don’t know that yet.

As the night became even more perfect for the two of you, not knowing each other’s names just makes everything more thrilling and interesting but you promised to each other to stay true to each other when the clock strikes midnight and everyone has to take off their masks.

And to maximize the fun, you and Jeno ended up making out in one of the empty classrooms while everyone is busy dancing and enjoying the program. And by the way, it was a passionate kiss, not like those innocent kissing-a-stranger type of kiss that you see in movies. You both didn’t care at that moment whether you know each other or not.

“Fuck- I have to go back before midnight, I kind of... have an important duty during the event,” you said. Careful not to tell him that the captain of the cheerleading squad is needed to crown the voted prom queen.

“Understood,” Jeno says because he is the one crowning the voted prom king. “Does your lips always tastes sweet?” he asked with a very sexy tone, lifting you effortlessly with his incredible strength and making you sit on the desk. He reaches dow to your dress and went under it, completely startling you with the way he holds your thighs and kiss your knee, inner thighs, until he reaches your clothed pussy. Kissing the wet center and drownig with the feeling of his tongue shamelessly ruining your panties.

Bravely, Jeno removed your panties without breaking the soft kisses he’s giving you, putting your panties straight in his pocket for safe keeping and to make sure that you have no choice but to go back to him after midnight.

“Oh fuck-“ you moaned softly, covering your own mouth while the man in between your legs is giving you kitten licks on your pussy but intensifying everything when he spread your folds and focused on your clit. Licking it fast and kissing it like it it was your lips. It was unbearable, and this time two hands are covering your mouth to muffle you moans because you knew that what you’re doing right now can jeopardize your cheerleading career.

“Close- ooh, fuck. Right there please, faster. Ahh!”

You don’t know but Jeno is smiling right now, happy and contented that he get to do this with you. And in a matter of seconds, your legs are shaking and wanting to be closed so bad, but Jeno is giving you oral like he had never licked a pussy in a year and stopped your legs from closing to torture you further with his tongue.

Then suddenly, you heard your name being called and you made Jeno stop and quickly went down from the desks with weak legs, not having any other choice but to face everyone even after having a nice orgasm just a few minutes earlier.

You feel sorry for your prince of course because you literally kicked him and bolted away without any other words, not even a smile.

“Sorry I’m late, I was in the comfort room handling my tummy ache,” you cleared your throat and did what you had to do. A few minutes later, Jeno is now crowing the voted prom king and you didn’t bother looking at him because you knew he will look so handsome tonight. So you just stood there in the corner of the stage focusing on your weak legs, and feel Jeno stood beside you afterwards. Watching the the prom king and queen dance at the corner, both with tired smile and hearts yearning to be with each other again, suddenly Jeno spoke to you.

“I’m the only one in this room that knows you don’t have panties underneath this beautiful dress” he whispered beside you with a small smirk that only you can notice.

And the moment you lift your head to face him, you see you le prince.

Jeno is your prince. The prince who just gave you a mind blowing orgasm just a few minutes back.

“Lee Jeno- what the fuck. What have you done,” you said quietly, trying to control your reactions in front of the entire school.

“Date me and I’ll give it back to you”

“No thanks, you can keep it- just please dont tell anyone what happened to us.”

And just like that both of your happy endings are cancelled for the night. He felt broken, you felt guilty. But he can’t just finish this night without a fight.

“Fine. At least let me drive you home” he said bitterly.

“Fine”

The drive was quiet as expected. No one saw you get inside Jeno’s car, you made sure of it. To be honest you wanted to apologize to him for the kick earlier, but you figured it will make everything even more awkward. So forget it.

When he had finally pulled in front of your house, neither of you started moving as if you didn’t want this night to end badly than it already is.

“I had a great time...” you started, hoping that it’s okay to even say ‘thank you’

“Can’t you see that I’m trying my best here?” he said and it turned quiet again, “I like you Y/n,”

“Are you sure?” Are the only words that came out from you.

“A hundred percent sure. If you don’t let me date you even just for a short period of time to prove my feelings to you... I might cry while driving home,”

“And that’s fucking dangerous. Okay okay,” you were panicking at this moment “I accept your offer. Please, just drive safe. You’re making me nervous,”

Jeno smiled from ear to ear upon hearing your decision. Even though you didn’t actually accepted his offer because you wanted to date him too,it’s fine. Jeno is willing to work hard for you.

Day after day Jeno ask you if you’re free for the most awaited date but you try so hard to avoid him. It was not easy to hide your ‘relationship’ and to be honest it’s starting to annoy you.

One awful day after practice, it was the weekend and only the squad and the football team is in campus for practice. It was a tough and ugly day, so you decided to wait for everyone to finish showering before you start cleaning yourself.

The water was nice and the warm feeling of the showers just relaxes you to the max and enjoy the running water. You take this opportunity to sort out your thoughts...but someone disturbed your peace again.

You feel him hold you by the waist and encircle his arms around it, head rests by the crook of your neck and even by just feeling his embrace, you knew that Jeno is tired too. That he had a bad day too and you didn’t want to make things worst for the both of you.

“The door was open, I locked it for you” he said quietly. The tiredness was even obvious through the way he speaks.

And knowing that Jeno is using you to comfort himself, you just let him do what he wants as a way to give back to the comfort and company that he’s giving you now.

Wet kisses were place on your shoulder and neck, his strong arms kept you close to him until your ass is so close to his cock that it’s poking your ass cheeks but you just let it be. To be honest you love the feeling of what’s happening now, you feel so close to Jeno just like the night during the dance.

You turned around to face him, only to find his face full of dirt from practice, exhausted expression and silence. He was never silent when he’s around you, and that’s how you confirmed that it was indeed a bad day.

“Want to talk about it?” You offered and Jeno just rests his forehead on yours, letting the water run through your naked bodies. Hands all over each other, no funny business just providing comfort. You took initiative to clean his face with your soap and pour shampoo on his hair, washing it gently as he lets you do what you want.

And finally, you see a hint of smile from his face and you cant help but to smile back.

You didn’t do anything stupid in the showers with Jeno, you just literally had shower with him while he keeps you close but it felt that you did something so intimate together. Like a couple who passionately had sex in bed.

After cleaning yourselves Jeno reached for your towel and wrapped you nicely, looking at your boobs without feeling ashamed because you’re looking at his cock too. If it was a normal day, you’d have sex right then and there, but you both don’t want it as of the moment.

“Wait here don’t get dressed yet,” he said when you’re back in the locker rooms.

And when he came back still wearing a towel wrapped around his waist, he dropped on bended knee as if he’s going to propose. But instead of reaching for your hand he reached for your leg, and made you wear the underwear that he took from you during the dance. “I washed it myself,” he said and placed a quick soft kiss on your waist before he gets up.

It was a sweet gesture. Not normal, but it was sweet and you liked it. He got up, turned his back and left you to finish putting your clothes. You wonder if he’ll wait for you outside because truth be told you don’t want this to end yet.

After you finish drying your hair and making yourself decent again, hoping that someone is waiting for you outside already. You saw Jeno waiting for you outside the school beside his car, looking so handsome on fresh new clothes with the cutest smile. Of course he waited.

“How was your day?” he finally asked you.

“Bad,” you answered and took a big bite on your hotdog sandwich. “I pushed my team so hard today that everyone just hated me during practice,”

“Same thing happened to me, me and Haechan almost got into a fight in the middle of practice earlier. I guess this what happens when we don’t practice at the same place,” he joked but his intentions were cute. “I’m not sure if were going to win this season. If we don’t, I would have to wave goodbye to my dream college”

“Jeno, we’re aiming at the same college, and knowing what they look for an athlete, it’s impossible that you won’t get scouted. I mean, you’re the reason why we keep winning. College football is no joke, so hang in there just do your best”

“College cheerleading is no joke either, you have to get in for me. I’m not taking cheers from a stranger it had to be you,” he made you giggle and let out small laughs that echoes around his car. You just nod at him and wiped the ketchup from his lips.

“Thank you and I’m sorry I’m always an asshole when it comes to you,” you said perfectly ruining the mood but Jeno did not let that happen.

“And for someone who used to hate each other, we sure are better when we work together,” he said, leaning closer to you for a kiss that you didn’t avoid. “Watch me win you fair and square,”

You smiled at what he said and returned the kiss to shut him up. And the next thing you know, you’re making out with Lee Jeno in his car in the middle of an empty fast food parking lot.

“You’re the first boy I ever kissed, Jeno, and I want you to be the last.... I mean you’re the first sincere kiss-“

“I get it, I get it,” he said and continue kissing you again.

After that fateful day, you’ve been each other’s rocks and support system. Meeting under the bleachers, showering last so you could shower in peace together after every weekend practice, and have secret dates whenever you want to. It was a beautiful time even though you’re not yet officially together. And that proper date he was meaning to give you, finally happened and you feel bad for avoiding this amazing moment to happen.

“Okay, I think we should stop” Jeno cut the kiss when you’re both getting too carried away. Knowing that his parents are away and you have the house all for yourselves just makes everything even more dangerous now. But instead of stopping you pushed him on his bed and went on top of him. Putting both of your legs on each of his sides and earning a cute giggle from him. “Alright, if this is what you wanted”

Jeno then traded places with you, putting you beneath him effortlessly and kissing every exposed skin he sees while slowly lifting your shirt and unclasping your bra effortlessly. Cupping your boobs and kneading them gently while he makes you crazy with his touch and the way his tongue swipes on your lips and dominates the kiss with that powerful tongue.

When he removed his shirt, you expected to see a very hot body, a perfectly sculpted abs, and his strong arms. You were prepared to see that. What you didn’t expect to see were the scars and bruises he got from practice and from his past games.

“Hey, don’t mind the scars. They don’t hurt anymore,” he reached for your hand and intertwined his fingers with yours. Even though his body was all ruined like this, he looks so happy in life and this current moment. You then realized that Jeno is more than football and his cocky attitude. He’s a man who loves the game and is willing to do everything for his dream.

And that.... fucking turned you on that you attacked him with kisses and quickly removed your pants, Jeno did the same with quick movements until you’re both wearing only your underwear and ready to do it for the first time. He was the first one to remove his boxers briefs and thats the time when you remember how your friends drooled over Jeno’s big dick. It was true.

And that’s going inside you. Every inch of that veiny, thick cock of Jeno.

He removed your panties next, kissing your legs as he swiftly pull it down you thighs and expose your pussy to him. Whispering sweet words, comforting and filthy ones to balance this beautiful moment. You smiled when he pulled away from kissing you and finally lining his cock to your entrance.

Pumping his cock in between your opened legs and in front of your wet pussy, he started to tease you with the tip of his thick cock. Up and down, Jeno made you feel how raw he’s going to fuck you tonight. He started kissing and touching your body, slowly pushing in your tight hole and stealing your breath away, making you breath so heavily and grip his strong shoulders as he oh so slowly put his entire cock inside you.

“Does it feel nice?” You struggled talking but you managed to let out decent words. He nodded and rolled his hips, making you both moan and hold each other tightly. That’s how nice Jeno feels around you.

He gave you a few gentle thrust, stretching you good so won’t get hurt when he starts fucking you hard. You watch his cock go in and out of your pussy, and you can’t help but feel proud that it fits perfectly. “I love seeing your smile,” he said when he caught you smiling. He kisses the top of your breast, softly and just making you feel crazy with his soft lips around your nipples. Suck it good and twirling his hot tongue around it until your nipples are hard and swollen.

You didn’t notice that he has been fucking and giving you harder and faster thrust that his bed is starting to creak so bad and your bodies are slightly bouncing from the mattress. The pleasure was so nice especially its you that he’s fucking now, that his mind just went blank and started kissing your breast wildly which made you part your lips and furrow your brows. You then reached for him because you can’t take the pleasure anymore and made him kiss your lips instead.

But just as you thought that the he will go slow, no. When his chest hit your breast, and you’re now bodies to bodies that he’s putting his entire weight on top of you, Jeno became wild again and pinned your legs on the mattress and started fucking you hard.

Thrust and thrust you feel the impact on every inch of your body, and feeling the sting and hurt on your cunt as he continues to fuck you so good and the pleasure did not stopped from there. He lifted your left leg, using your flexibility wisely and placing your leg on his shoulders, earning a kiss on your leg when he saw that you got excited with the new position.

Jeno went back to fucking you again, putting his left thumb on your clit to draw small circles while his other hand is holding your leg safely as he fucks you good again.

“Jeno- ahh! Fuck, not on the pill” you informed him with heavy breaths and delicious groans. Gripping his sheets tightly as you slowly feel your orgasm build up and made your toes curl. Pushing Jeno away and closing your legs immediately so could curl in a ball and enjoy your orgasm. You didn’t noticed that he came on your body the moment he pulled out, painting your skin with his hot and thick cum.

Suddenly it was quiet and only your heavy breaths can be heard.

“Sorry about that,” he apologized immediately and placed soft kisses on your shoulders while you still curl and shiver.

“No it’s perfectly fine,” you reached to him for a kiss and then Jeno proceeded to cleaning up his mess. Kissing your sensitive body while he wipes it and putting you both in the mood again for a second round, but stopped yourselves and just enjoy the night while you talk naked in his bed.

“Can you please play more safely? I see you go to the nurse’s wing every after game, but I never understood why until now. I though it’s just simple bruises.... and not, dislocated bones and-“ He cut you off with a soft giggle and caught him blushing like crazy. Who is this man? Is this really Lee Jeno? “What?” You added.

“Nothing. You’re just so cute when you worry for me. I remember back then you told me you wish I break my ankles during one of our morning practice because we had the field that day first,”

“Yeah... I’m sorry about that. You’re just so, annoying sometimes and I just hate you so much,” you gave him a hug as a sorry for what you said back then, which he gladly accepted and planted a kiss on your forehead.

“How about now? Do you still hate me now?” He squeezed you butt cheek to remind you of what happened earlier and how you loved every second of it.

“I most definitely, still hate you Jeno Lee” but of course, Jeno did not buy it and started kissing you again. Touching all the right places and whispering the right words. Until you two fucked again that night and he had to drive you home a little later that usual. This was the first night that you realized, you never wanted to be apart from Jeno.

“Y/n,” he called you just before you enter your house. You turned around to face him and gave him a sweet smile.

“Jeno Lee?”

“I love you,”

“I love you too,”

And just like that he made your heart jump again without any warning. Leaving you safely and driving away from you with both happy hearts.

When Jeno’s most awaited game finally came, by this time around you’re both still seeing each other secretly.

“There’s my favorite cheerleader,” he grabs you by the waist and admire you in your cheer uniform. You rolled your eyes at him and raked his long hair away from his face. Reminding him to play safely tonight.

“Win for this pussy,” you said with a smirk. You haven’t had sex with Jeno for some time now because he was so focused with practice and you think, tonight is just perfect.

But the handsome guy has something more in mind, “uh uh, Im winning for something else, this game is big I need a motivation,”

“Well, name it lover boy and I’m happy to give it,”

“Your heart. If we win this game we will be officially together and of course, the sex is just a bonus. What do you say? My place?” he’s waiting for an answer that will give him the energy that he will need all throughout the game.

You kissed him on the lips and encircled your arms around him and said, “Deal” then placed another one, “Now go win because I don’t want to spend my life with anyone else”

“You just had to set the bar high right before a game, huh?” He smirked and asked for another kiss. Completely transferring your balm to his soft, addicting lips.

Of course you and Jeno were excited and all for the thrill that night. The game wasn’t easy to win, but he worked hard inside the field while you worked hard outside the field, making sure that the people will have faith to Jeno until the end of the game, win or lose.

And speaking of win or lose, of course you’ll still make him your boyfriend after tonight. You just couldn’t let his heart break two times in one night.

But no worries, because as you wave your pompoms and screamed for Jeno’s name to take the winning shot, everyone celebrated with you.

“THAT’S MY BOYFRIEND!!!” You shamelessly shouted and came running towards to Jeno together with the others and Jeno caught you in his strong arms and lifted you off the ground. Kissing you in front of everyone which made their jaws drop.

That night, you have never been so flirty around Jeno, and he had never been this sweet to you. Maybe, you two were just holding it in and now that nothing is stopping you, you’re ready to love each other with everything you got.

#nct-writers #neosmutcollective #neowritingsnet #cznnet #kpopscape #nct smut #lee jeno #jeno lee #jeno smut #lee jeno smut #lee jeno fluff #jeno fluff #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct fluff #jeno x reader #lee jeno x reader #nct lee jeno smut #nct jeno smut #nct jeno

[bastillewolf]

Shinigami Eyes (I)

Pairing: Corpse Husband / Reader

Summary: When you’re paired up with Corpse as imposters in a game of Among Us, you seem to somehow apprehend each others strategies even though it’s the first time you’ve ever played together. He appreciates a good impostor.

Notes: I know I still have many fics I need to finish, but I just wanted to throw out a quick Corpse one because sad to say I’ve been simping for him too. By the way, this is my interpretation of him and this is just for fun. Also, I haven’t written for second person in a while, so I’m sorry if this sucks.

TAG LIST CLOSED!

Shinigami Eyes - Oneshot

“Hey, I wanted to invite Corpse,” Sean said right as the Among Us theme started playing on your computer.

“Great vooooice,” Grease called out.

“Oh, I haven’t played with him before,” you said. It was true, but you’d heard of his legendary voice before and your viewers had been asking for him. You’d only allow it because No Simp September was over. Chat was already going mad.

“You’ll love him. Unless he murders you, because he’s a great imposter,” Sean replies. “He’s too good,” Felix adds.

After a moment, you heard the familiar noise of someone joining the Discord. “Hello everyone,” a deep rumble greeted. The group all said their welcomes, while you introduced yourself. “Very nice to meet you, Corpse,” you added. You didn’t want to comment on the obvious. He must hear it all the time. But you couldn’t deny it was like silk to your ears.

“Nice to meet you to. You make great vids.” A blush spread across your cheeks, “You shouldn’t say things like that, chat is already jealous.” He chuckled.

5… 4… 3… 2… 1…

Impostor

Great, you’re instantly sweating. Thankfully, though, it seems you were lucky enough to have been teamed up with the king of lying himself. Corpse’s name is as bloodred as yours.

You decide to follow him after Toast and Sean, and think about how it was Sean who ironically invited the person who was going to murder him in just a few moments. All four of you were being decontaminated below lab, when Corpse made stepped a tad closer to him. You almost synchronically chopped their heads off, and you squealed in excitement. 2 down, 4 to go. As long as no one would find their bodies for a while, you still had time.

Next thing, you’re out of the South entrance and you’ve split up. You join Sykkuno in electric and just wait on him to do his task. Felix joins you afterwards in the next room. That’s when Toast’s body, and ultimately Sean’s, is reported.

Corpse had run back and self-reported.

“Corpse and I just ran into decontamination and found Sean and Toast,” Rae announced.

You were still muted. “Oh god, he’s playing a dangerous game.”

Sykkuno decided it would be the perfect time to call you out. “You and Felix only joined me a while later and decided to stay. Kinda sus of you.”

“No, she was with me at the beginning. I watched her do a task in office,” your fellow impostor vouched. They’d been right, he’s a damn good liar. He manages to hide any sliver of emotion in that deep baritone.

“I don’t trust Corpse anymore, he does stuff like this all the time when he’s impostor,” Lily noted.

“Stuff like what?” He huffed in amusement.

The group agreed the accusation made was a bit vague, and it had affectively directed the attention away from you and onto Felix. After another round of some serious investigating and threatening you all decided to skip.

“Corpse makes me feel less nervous about being an impostor,” you tell chat, “He seems so chill about it.” You ran down to Weapons, but decided against killing anyone when you found three people doing tasks there. You shoved yourself into the clump of bodies and waited until everyone had finished. Running back up to centre with both Lily and Rae, you felt restless that you would eventually have to kill one of them. You just hoped they wouldn’t take it personally.

Corpse ran past, alone. Your characters didn’t have eyes, but somehow they showed a mutual understanding. He killed Lily, you killed Rae. You sputtered and chortled and followed right on after him down into the venthole. He met you in the bathroom stall. “Cosy,” you joked. Until Grease walked in. “Oh, that’s awkward.” You realized you were still standing suspiciously over the venthole. “Shit.”

You didn’t know where Grease had gone, but your first instinct was to hit the red emergency meeting button in the Office. “Grease was in the bathroom stall hovering over a vent.” You may not have your fellow impostors emotionless tone, but you knew laughing through your accusation usually worked.

“Are you kidding me?! I just saw you and Corpse standing in there doing I don’t know what!” Grease yelled.

“That’s a bold statement. You know I’d never cheat on Sykkuno,” Corpse said. “Wait, what?” the man in question replied. Corpse ignored him.

“Corpse was with me when I found you there. On another note I don’t think I’ve ever seen two people vent at the same time before.” Two truths, technically.

“Alright, I’m voting Grease,” Felix said, “I’m sensing liar voice.”

Sykkuno suspected Grease and you, but promised he’d vote you out after if he was wrong. “We have to vote now,” you reminded them.

Grease was ejected.

You met Corpse again in laboratory, where only Felix was doing a task. No one moved. “Oh no, you may have the honours,” you gracefully called out to an unsuspecting impostor. He seemed to get the message through however, and swiftly killed Felix when the Kill button was set to press again.

Defeat.

 “Oh my god, that was so stressful,” you cried out. Corpse chuckled, “Don’t worry, you did great.”

“Hey, don’t you dare steal him,” Sean threatened, “He’s my impostor mate!” You laughed.

“You murdered me and Lily almost synchronically,” Rae sputtered, to which Sean added, “Oh my god, same here. It was some nasty psychic shit.” “Corpse and I just have the Shinigami eyes,” you explained. You saw Corpse’s name flash in the top left corner, but only heard him exhale in amusement. It was cute.

5… 4… 3… 2… 1…

Impostor

“Oh… my… god.” Has this ever happened before in this game? Either way, no one will suspect both of you to be it again. You imagine he was feeling similarly, as he hadn’t moved from the spawn point yet. “How in the fuck…?” Chat was confused, but seemed to enjoy the spectacle.

You and corpse split up this time. Don’t use the same tactics twice.

You followed Felix and Sykkuno into Office and faked a task. They decided to wait for you, and you kept your eyes on the green bar until it moved. You travelled trough Admin and Decontamination until you met up with Lily in Labs. “Shit,” you murmured, “There’s too many people. I’m gonna look suspicious.”

Corpse showed up. Lily and Sykkuno left. You killed Felix. Toast walked in, and unfortunately at the hands of your teammate, he did become toast.

You ran in a circle around him and hoped it was enough of a hint for him to follow you. He picked up on it and followed you into the bathroom stall. But neither of you vented. You let a smile slip, almost forgetting you had a face cam. Awkwardly clearing your throat, you explained to your viewers in a very non-convincing way this was just a good impostor strategy. They’d do well to learn from it.

The bodies were reported instantly, and you cursed under your breath. Lily was the one who reported it. “So, I found Felix in Labs and there were only two other people in there before me and Sykkuno left.”

“I went down through Decontamination,” you explained, “I lost Corpse back at Labs.”

“I went back North, I passed you on the way there, Lily.”

Lily was sus of you. “What? Why?!” You asked. “Because I didn’t see anyone in Decontamination and there’s no way you could’ve gone through there that quickly. I wasn’t gone that long,” she said.

Well, shit. “Weren’t the lights off? You couldn’t possibly see me in Decontamination. I’m wondering why you walked back into Labs anyway, Lily.”

A series of ‘ooh’s were heard through the Discord call.

“But I was running up that hallway, I didn’t see you come out,” Grease suddenly spoke up.

“Why were you in there, Grease?” Corpse asked, but you knew it was already too late.

“I was running up to do my task in Labs. I didn’t see her come through the doors before the body was reported.”

“I wasn’t out of Decontamination yet,” you ground out. It was of no use, however. More than half of the people left voted you out, including Lily, Grease, Sean and Corpse, since he had an image to maintain as fake crewmember.

HeartEyes was ejected.

You decided, both out of your own interest and for content’s sake, to follow Corpse as a ghost. He seemed to be having the same trouble as you, suddenly being surrounded by a group of people. “That’s rough. He’s gonna have to kill five more people.”

That was when he bravely decided to take action. Sabotage the reactor, follow everyone there, jump into the lump of people trying to fix the problem and kill so no one would know who did it. He self-reported it in the blink of an eye.

The group was indeed confused, to say the least. Grease had died. “Wait, who was the last to come in?” Sean asked. “It was me,” Corpse admitted, “But I did the handprint scan because no one else was doing it. Weren’t you standing there doing that with Lily?” “Yeah, I had to wait because it wasn’t working.”

“What?!” Lily exclaimed, in only a way she could, “I was doing the scan! It was Sean, then!” The two suspects were starting a heavy discussion, whilst your eyes were trained on the red of Corpse’s name.

The group decided to vote out Lily, as she was the one to report the last murder.

“Is he just… Killing the people who voted for me?” you muttered. Shaking your head, you continued, “Nah, it has to be coincidence.”

But then a body was found, and Corpse said he suspected Sean again. Was he actually working down the list? “Is he avenging me? That’s so sweet, no one has ever done that for me before…” Just a video game, you had to remind yourself. It was just a video game you were playing with friends. And a man with a very nice voice who’d just murdered everyone who did you wrong. Just a game, yes.

Turns out, Corpse really knew how to put his voice to use, as Sean was ejected. He managed to kill Sykkuno and Dave after that, and the game was won by the imposters.

“AGAIN?!” Felix yelled, “How did you two get teamed up again?!” “That’s bullshit,” Sean laughed.

You smiled, as Corpse said, “Us Shinigami’s have to stick together.” It made you blush. “Thanks for avenging me, Corpse. That was very sweet of you.” He chuckled, “Any time. I don’t mind killing people when I have a good teammate.”

“Hey! I’m still here too, you know!” Sean yelled upset.

“It was really fun playing with you guys,” you said, stretching your arms. You’d already been streaming for three hours, it was time to go. Everyone said goodbye, but you didn’t hear Corpse. And you wished it hadn’t twisted your stomach in the way it did.

You wished your viewers a nice day, and promised to update them on Twitter when you’d be streaming next. You were done for the day.

Yet, as you’d closed all tabs and were about to close Discord, you got a call. It was private, and it was from Corpse.

“Hey, miss me already?” you jokingly said.

He chuckled quietly. He suddenly seemed a lot shyer now, being extracted from the group. “Nice game.”

“Yeah, you really know how to keep your emotions hidden. I was impressed, to say the least.”

“You were really good, too. I can appreciate a good imposter.”

You bit your lip. “Hm, I hope to see some more of that appreciation in the future. It was rather nice having someone avenge me.”

“I’d do it again any time. Hiding in the toilet was a good strategy, by the way.”

You snorted at that, “Not good enough, it seems. They voted me out.”

“Big mistake. Nobody kills my teammate.”

“Aww, did the Shinigami catch feelings for the human?”

He rumbled, “I thought you weren’t human?”

You didn’t comment on the fact that he’d failed to answer the original suggestion you’d made. “Touché.”

It was quiet for a moment, and you wondered if you’d crossed a line there and made the wrong assumptions about where the conversation was going. You quickly added, “Are you playing again this week?”

“Yeah, Sean said they’d stream again this Thursday.”

“I suppose I’ll see you there, then.”

He hummed. You sensed there was more to it, though. He hadn’t made any indication he wanted to end the call yet. But then he finally said, “I hope we get teamed up again. So you can get your own revenge.”

“I hope so too.”

***

Might do a follow up to this oneshot, if anyone asks for it. Will definitely create more for Corpse, he’s a lot of fun to write.

#Corpse Husband #Corpse #Corpse x reader #corpse husband x reader #jacksepticeye #pewdiepie #youtube fanfiction

[handsomelyhiddleston]

Sticky Notes - Tom Hiddleston x Reader

It all started on the set of Ragnarok. They hadn’t even started filming yet. Table reads, choreography, costume fittings, set development…The cast, crew, and even Taika started finding little notes.

Some were specifically to certain people…

“Your laugh is contagious. Thank you for making this set so down to earth and inviting.” You slipped that into Taika’s (the director’s) fanny pack when he left it on his director’s chair.

“I know how hard you’ve been working on your fight choreography, and I just wanted to let you know you absolutely killed it today!” You left that stuck to Tessa’s (Valkyrie’s) water bottle.  

Some you posted for everyone, like “I know that you all put such amazing effort and time into bringing this movie to life and I just want you all to know that it doesn’t go unnoticed.” That note was posted above a table full of ‘easy to grab’ snacks you laid out such as protein bars, fruit snacks, pretzels, and dried fruit.

This continued well into filming. Everyone had tried to figure out who was leaving these little daily encouragements. It got to the point that Taika started calling you Casper, as in “Casper the Friendly Ghost.” Every day at the start of filming he would say. “Come on guys. Let’s make Casper proud.”

Everyone had a theory. Most thought that it was actually Taika just trying to keep morale up. Taika accused Tom but took it back after some comment about the notes not sounding very British.

Your job on set was to cast extras. While you were present daily, you honestly only had to meet with Taika once or twice a day to make sure the next day’s cast extras were ready. You two fell into an easy rhythm working together and he started asking for your opinion on some other aspects of the set. One late afternoon, after an incredibly chaotic day of filming, Taika decided that he was going to scrap the entire scene and start it over.

He pulled out his phone and sent a text to you, Tom, and Chris. “Today can suck it. I’ve just watched the dailies, and something just isn’t right about that scene. Meet at mine in 30 so we can get ahead of it.” A few seconds later he added, “And for the love of God, someone bring some tequila.”

You laughed at his text, jogging to the trailer you shared with the other casting director. You changed into a pair of shorts and a baggy t-shirt and grabbed your keys and wallet. You jumped in your car so you could make a quick trip to the Starbucks down the street since it appeared it was going to be a long night.

“One Venti iced coffee with milk and 1 sugar, one Grande Americano hot with cream and 2 sugars, one Venti hot latte with vanilla, and one Venti hot water with two earl gray tea bags and four sugars on the side. Can I also get one of the small kid’s milk boxes?” You heard the barista repeat your order back and pulled forward and paid.

When you got to Taika’s trailer, Tom and Chris were already there.

“Oh, bless you” Taika thanked you, taking the Latte from you.

“You’re the best” Chris said, taking the lid off of the Americano so it would cool off a bit.  

“Tom, I grabbed you tea.” You handed him the hot water and two tea bags, setting the sugars and milk next to him so he could make it to his liking.

“You’re too kind” Tom graciously took the hot water from you, noting that you grabbed his favorite kind of tea.

In Taika’s trailer there was a table with a bench on each side. Chris and Tom were sat on one side, leaving a space for you to sit next to Taika.

“Anyone grab the tequila?” you laughed, dropping your keys and wallet on Taika’s counter and sitting at the table with your iced coffee.

Taika grabbed the bottle and sat it down in front of you. “You’re already two swigs behind, love.”

“Bullshit” you laughed. “Prove it. Where are the shot glasses?”

“I said swigs, not shots” Taika smirked. “We don’t have shot glasses.”

“Look at how much is missing from that bottle. I just bought it.” Hemsworth backed Taika up.

You looked at Tom, knowing he would be honest with you.

“Hey, you trust Tom more than me?” Taika pretended to be offended.

“Tom always looks out for everybody. I don’t think he’d let me get two shots drunker than you fools.” You teased Taika, poking his side and sticking your tongue out at him.

“Watch” Taika said, putting his arm around your shoulders and looking towards Tom. “How many swigs did we all take?”

Tom laughed, “I’m sorry darling, but he’s telling you the truth.”  

“Fine, fine.” You opened the bottle and took three swigs, handing it to Taika. “Catch up, then.”

Tom started thinking about the compliment you had given him as he took his third swig of Tequila. He felt flattered that you felt that way, but it also reminded him of one of the notes he had found stuck to his trailer door.

“Okay, we need to re-block this whole scene. It just did not translate from script to screen…” The four of you worked on a few line changes and mapped out a better way to execute the scene for over two hours.

There was a bit of dialogue that Taika felt was getting lost that he really just didn’t want to let go of. “We may just have to mess with this tomorrow while we’re filming.”

“Or you could have Loki say it instead of Thor.” You suggested.

“Could do.” You could tell that Taika was thinking it over.

“Here you have Thor immediately going into another hard-hitting line” you explained. “If that line comes from Loki, it makes it less likely to get lost.”

“I think that will fix this problem too” Chris started underlining other parts of the dialogue.

“What do you think?” Taika looked at Tom.

“I mean, I personally think Loki has already evolved enough at that point in the script that it suits him quite nicely.” Tom explained in a way only Tom can explain.

“I agree” you said. “You guys make Loki grow quite a bit in this film and as usual, Tom is hitting it out of the park. I’m 100% confident he will have conveyed that message to the audience by this point.”

“Thank you for your vote of confidence.” Again, Tom was flattered. However, he was growing more and more suspicious that you were Casper.

“Always” you replied, smiling at Tom as you finished your coffee.

“Let me type this up and we can table read it.” Taika grabbed the papers and went to the other side of the trailer where his computer was set up.

“While you do that, I’m going to steal your restroom for a moment.” Chris stood, throwing his empty coffee cup away and closing the bathroom door. Chris joined Taika a moment later.

“Y/n?” Tom said, kind of quietly.

“What’s up?” Your elbows were resting on the table with your chin sat on your hands.

“Can I ask you something?” Tom didn’t want to bring it up in front of anyone. He didn’t want the notes to stop, but he had to know.

Tom looked a bit serious, but you didn’t know why. “Of course.”

“Are you…” He stopped, reaching his hand into his back pocket to retrieve his wallet. “Is this you?”

Your eyes went wide as Tom pulled a small stack of pink sticky notes out of his wallet, laying them down next to each other. There must have been 10 of them in total. You were touched that he actually kept them. Sometimes you felt silly leaving them for people not knowing if they appreciated them. You tried to play it off, laughing. “I thought those were from Taika?”

He pointed at one of them, reading it quietly. “I tried the tea you always drink. I don’t think it could ever replace my love of coffee, but I wanted you to know it pairs well with a good book.” He pointed to another note. “I know you paid for everyone to Uber home after our last night out. I just wanted to tell you I appreciate you. Thank you for always looking out for us.” You could feel his eyes on you as he moved his hand to a third note. “I envy your ability to capture a room. You’ve got an amazing knack for making those watching you feel whatever emotion you’re trying to convey.” When Tom’s hand moved to the fourth note, you heard Taika’s printer turn on.

“Put them away” you said, trying to stack them quickly. Chris started walking towards you and you grabbed the small stack you had gathered and put them in your pocket.

Tom put the rest back in his wallet. “What do you think?” he asked Taika about the changes he had made.

“I think tomorrow is going to be a lot fuckin’ better.” He passed the printed copies around after joining the two of you back at the table.

Tom’s line went over great, and the dialogue flowed much more smoothly. All of the other changes made the scene feel more natural. When Taika called it a night, Chris laid down on the couch refusing to go back to his own trailer.

“Can I walk you to yours?” Tom asked as you stepped out of Taika’s trailer.

The two of you walked back to your trailer in comfortable silence, tired and a little drunk. When you got to the door, you turned around and pulled the pink notes out of your pocket.

“Please don’t tell anyone?” You placed the notes in Tom’s hand.

“I didn’t plan on it” he replied, tucking them neatly back into his wallet.

“I feel silly now that someone knows it was me. Why did you keep them?” You had to ask. You assumed, at most, that people read them, smiled, and threw them away.

“Hmm…” Tom laughed humorlessly, his eyes focused on his wallet. “I think you’re doing a lot more than you realize when you leave your ‘silly’ little notes.”

His response caught you off guard. He almost sounded…sad? Serious?

“Y/n, I’ve had to work with actors and crew that have made filming a project miserable. Whether they were rude or critical or just an absolute diva, there is always someone to bring the room down.” He put his wallet away and looked you in the eyes. “I wish you knew how many of us have kept these notes. Taika has them in the glovebox of his car. The catwalk above the set is covered in notes you’ve left the crew. They’re stuck all over the mirrors in the make-up trailer so that the cast sees them first thing in the morning.”

Your eyes went wide. “What?”

Tom put his hands on each of your arms as if to ensure you were paying attention. “An encouraging word or a genuine compliment can change someone’s entire day, y/n. You have no way of knowing what life has dealt any of these people. They could be depressed or stressed out or wishing they hadn’t woken up that morning…and all of a sudden they receive a tiny bit of kindness from someone and it makes it that much easier to get through another day. Maybe even with a smile on their face.”

Tom wore a soft smile and even though you felt a bit overwhelmed, you couldn’t help but smile back. “Thank you for telling me that.” You moved towards him, pulling him into a tight hug.

“Please don’t forget it.” Tom pulled back a bit and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek. “I hope you get a good night’s sleep.”

“You, too.” You watched Tom walk away before slipping into your shared trailer.

Over the next few weeks, Tom had left you multiple green sticky notes with compliments written on them.

“You looked stunning yesterday”

“Thank you for still being a good listener when I go on rants about things you couldn’t care less about”

“Taika was bragging about you to someone on the phone. I just wanted you to know. I know sometimes you hesitate to suggest your ideas, but you shouldn’t.”

“I appreciate how much time you spend making this a better set to work on.”

“You are an incredible friend.”

You’d find at least one note a day and for every note he left you, you’d leave one for him. The two of you got quite a bit closer after he found out about your secret. You’d spend breaks on set together and often times wound up back in Taika’s trailer with him and Chris. You cuddled and flirted and shared more than a few loving glances, but you never went any further. It felt like it was turning into something more, but Tom was such a gentleman you couldn’t tell.

The note you found this morning, however, completely caught you off guard. The filming was almost done and everyone’s time on set was almost over. You had just sat down next to the director’s chair and opened your laptop. There, stuck to the screen, was a green sticky note. “Darling, would you please be mine?”

You looked up at Tom on stage only to find him already looking at you. He lifted his brow and tilted his head, waiting for your response. You couldn’t help but smile as you nodded ‘yes’.

Taika looked between you, noticing the interaction and intentionally teasing you. “Oi, what’s this then?”

Tom turned, trying to hide his grin by talking to Chris. You closed your laptop to hide the sticky note.

“Nah, I saw you two. Don’t pretend like I’m crazy.” Taika was still looking back and forth between you and Tom.

“Maybe you’re still drunk from last night” you teased, putting your laptop in its bag so you could retrieve the note later.

“Oh, sure.” He dropped it, knowing he’d bring it up tonight when you all gathered in his trailer.

The rest of the filming flew by crazy fast. You and Tom had decided that you would go stay with him in New York until the press junkets and interviews started. When the premier rolled around, you two were already publicly dating so you got to escort him down the red carpet. It had been just over a year since the two of you had started dating.

As the credits for the film started rolling, you felt like you were walking down memory lane. So many people go into making movies of this scale and watching all of the names roll by, one by one, really puts that into perspective. You’d met almost all of these people and worked closely with quite a few of them. As the credits came to an end, you saw that Taika had added an extra credit.

The last few “SPECIAL THANKS” credits were in order as listed…

“The filmmakers acknowledge the assistance of the New Zealand Government’s Screen Production Grant”

“The filmmakers would like to acknowledge the Yugambeh and Bundjalung Peoples of Australia”

“The director would like to thank ‘Casper’, Ragnarok’s own personal friendly ghost”

It had been a year since you’d written one of those notes and it caught you off guard. Tom put his arm around your shoulders, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I told you.”

You and Tom mingled amongst your friends at the after party. Taika was flying. He was so happy with how it turned out and grateful for such a positive response. Everyone in the cast was telling stories from filming and catching up with their friends. By the time you two got back to your hotel room, you were blissfully tipsy and exhausted. You slipped out of your dress and threw on a baggy t-shirt before washing your face and getting ready for bed. When you left the bathroom, you saw Tom sitting on the edge of the bed in his pajamas with a soft, warm smile gracing his beautiful face. He was wearing his glasses and his hair was a mess and he could not have been more attractive if he tried.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, pulling you to stand between his legs.

“Pretty good. How about yourself?” you put your arms around his neck and pressed your lips to his.

“I think there’s only one thing that could make me happier in this moment.” He answered.

You thought he was being a bit cheeky, so you replied with, “oh, yeah? I wonder what that could be.”

Tom reached behind him on the bed and pulled out a small box with a worn, green sticky note on top of it. He didn’t say anything, letting you read it. It was the same note he had left stuck to your laptop screen. “Darling, would you please be mine?” Only now the word “forever” was written at the bottom.

#Tom Hiddleston #Tom Hiddleston x reader #Tom Hiddleston imagine #loki

[al-hekima-madara-blog]

What do you think it would be like if Madara loved someone romantically? I love your analysis and sorry for my bad english, I'm not fluent in the language. 💙

Hey Nailalala ! Thank you for your question and your interest in my little blog 🥰Your english is fine don't worry and anyway I'm certainly not judging you since it's not my mother tongue neither... *crying in broken english grammar*

Your question is hard because it depends which Madara are we talking about?

A) Pre- Izuna death

B) Post Izuna until Valley of the End

C) Post VotE to Edo Madara

D) Rikudo Madara

A) This period is probably where romance most likely have most chance to happened. He was still socialising with his clans, outsiders and have a kind of balance between duty as shinobi and emotional openness to others.

I think I don't have an idea different from most headcanons on Madara in love, so sorry if it sounds unoriginal. Here like often in Uchiha culture there is a very distinction between how they behave outside and in private. Someone romantically involve with him needs to be aware about this. His ego is VERY important to protect in social occasion. So probably not demonstrative in public. But in private Madara is very caring about your well being, protective and the PASSION IS STRONG ! With the Uchihas went they love, it's unconditional and intense.

Since 90% of his time is training, shinobi life and politics. His lover needs to be quite an emotional independent person having her own objective with or without him. And when he comes back from mission, he actually appreciate the routine life because he barely experience it since childhood. Normality is for him extraordinary, he loves sharing home cook breakfast, lunch, fixing something defecting in the house, drinking fresh iced tea in the garden when sun is high and hot in summer, feeding his falcons, practising calligraphy, complaining about anything for the sake of complaining, teasing his partner, reconciliation with wild sexe, promise to not do it again because he wants peace between us, bored and create new drama ect... So not at all a party animal, not even social event, He is about building home memories that he will carry with him when travelling outside.

But really his partner need to stand boundaries. Madara is about fire in the good, but also in the ugly side. Too submissive, he will eat you up and make your life a misery with his short temper. Too loud is as well unattractive to him (can't be two alpha in the same room). So it's a subtle mix of femininity and someone able to comeback quickly with a sharp answer and humble him. He is as well about earth aka control. If you don't put limits, he will be sneaky about everything you do. Who you see? why this frequency? Why do you wear this?

Ah yes and if Izuna doesn't like you, consider your relationship dead in the egg 💀

But mostly I think at this time he was very loyal, quite reclusive but a devoted partner.

B) Now you deal with someone who carry heavy psychologics damages, a war veteran who doesn't have anymore the same hope for future. He buried most of people he grew up with, Izuna but also all young uchihas boys and girls from his generation. His authority is questioned but also his new power feared. And his dark reputation of stealing his brother eyes is already on his way.

Everything applying above in A) can still work but it will take more time to let you reach the same level of intimacy. Patient and deep emotional partner are more lucky to get his attention. But it will be a relationship flirting with toxicity. A lot of instability in his behaviour. Anger, frustrations, depression, melancholy, fear of loosing you as well.

C) honestly chance are super low...but let's be crazy you hang out in the wood and he is outside near the cave (lol sounds like a creepy version of the little Red riding Hood) because even if a tiny light of hope comes to him, Black Zetsu will make sure that he sabotages and ruins this relation before it could lead anywhere. And you will end up being his pawn for his plan. I don't recommend!

D) Aside Jesus, I don't know who can save him at this point.😅

I think that's all I have to say, hope it answers your question...But good thing, your question has actually inspired me a sweet one-shot so bear with me, I'll keep you posted soon ! 😘

#Al Hekima post #madara #madara uchiha #madara headcanons #love interest #ask

[kylie-writes-stuff]

“wife”

pairing: corpse husband x reader (female)

words: 1,714

requested?: no (send some in tho pls :) )

plot/summary: felix invites his friend, y/n, to play among us when they need an extra player. her and corpse get along well

authors note: so this isnt that good and i know a lot of corpse fics use a similar plot. i just wanted to try to write for corpse. hopefully things i write for him in the future are better. let me know what you think tho! also i really wanted reader to be best friends with karl bc i love him sm. uh every swiggly line is like a small time skip. this was written late at night btw and i didnt take much time to go over it

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You sat up from laying down when you heard your phone ring. You looked at the caller ID.

Felix.

"What's up Felix?" You ask with a small yawn.

"Aww, how sweet," You hear in the background.

You giggle and ask, "Is that Sean? Hi Sean!"

"Yeah, we're playing Among Us and need an extra player. You down?" Felix explained.

"Sure, just give me a few minutes. See you soon, whore"

"Bitc-" You hang up before he can finish.

You got up and turned off your TV, going to get ready. 

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You quickly tweet out that you're going live and say something on your insta story as well. You start your stream and slowly watch people flood in.

"Hey everyone! How are you guys doing?" You wave and smile, reading the chat.

"Everyone doing good, awesome! And i'm sorry to anyone having a bad day. I hope i can brighten it a bit!"

"Okay, sorry i didn't give you a further notice. I didn't even know i was gonna stream. Felix invited me to play Among Us so... here we are!"

You quickly join the discord and pull up the game, putting a cover over where the code goes.

"Hello?" You ask as you join the call. A chorus of greetings came your way.

"(Y/n)?"

"Karl!" You smile brightly.

Karl Jacobs was a good friend of yours. You would play on the Dream SMP sometimes. When you would, it would mostly be you being stupid with Karl and Alex, also known as Quackity. You were even a well know citizen of El Rapids.

"LET'S GOOOOO!" He yelled, making you laugh.

"Hey (Y/n), do you know everyone here?" Sean asks you.

"Um," You quickly scan through the names, "no, i don't think so."

You recognized names but you only personally knew Felix, Sean, Karl, and Ethan.

"Oh my god! Your voice is so cute!" Pokimane exclaims.

You giggle softly, "Thank you Poki!"

You're voice wasn't high pitched or anything like that, you just always spoke very softly and calmly. You were also a bit quiet.

Felix introduces you to those that you didn't know.

"There's one more person we're waiting for," He says.

While everyone waits, you and Karl run around each other's little characters and make jokes between yourselves. You mute yourself to read donations every once in a while.

You hear the discord chime, signaling that someone joined the call.

"WAIT CORPSE! DON'T SPEAK YET!" Felix yelled. "We have a new player. This is my friend (Y/n), say hi to her"

"Hello (Y/n)," Corpse said. You were taken aback by how deep his voice was but you didn't show it.

"Hi Corpse! Nice to meet you!" You said happily.

"Okay, how is she not freaking out?" Bretman said, making everyone laugh.

"Uh, (Y/n), do you mind letting me have black? It's cool if not.." Corpse asked gently.

"O-oh sure, no problem." You were usually black with the pink flamingo hat, but you ran over to the little computer and changed your color.

"Simp," Ethan mumbled, knowing you never switch from black.

"Thank you," He said, then the game started.

The word “Imposter” appeared on your screen in red, yours and Corpse's characters underneath.

As the game started, you thought no one could hear you so you spoke to your chat. "His voice was so deep, what the fuck? Holy shit that was hot, i'm gonna-"

"(Y/n)," Rae laughed, "You know we're playing proximity chat, right."

You blushed as you realized and said "Ha, anyways..." and ran to start faking tasks.

You ended up in electrical with Karl. "(Y/n)! My good friend, my buddy, you would never kill me right? Haha..." He said.

"Of course not, Karl! My good friend, my buddy. Why, I'm not even imposter," I said as i quickly dipped into the vent and back out, making him laugh.

I decided to show him because I knew Karl wouldn't say anything, and it's funny.

"Oh that's good then. Are you sure you're not imposter?"

"Mhm, pretty sure," You said, going back in. As you came out, Sykkuno walked in and froze.

"Uh, (Y/n)?"

"Fuck... Karl run! Go!" You said, Karl starting to leave. You walked closer and quickly killed Sykkuno then vented to security.

"That was close..." You told your chat.

You saw Corpse as you made your way around the map and walked into navigation.

"Hey, Corpse, how ya doing?"

"Ah you know, good. Just being crewmate and all."

You stifled a laugh, "Oh yeah I feel that, buddy."

"Yeah because there's no way that i'm imposter. No way i could be faking tasks and there's no possible way you could be the other imposter" He said quickly.

"For sure. Hypothetically speaking, though, if you were imposter, how many people would you have killed by now?"

"I would say probably around two."

"Interesting," You said right before a body was reported. It was Sykkuno's. Felix and Rae were also dead.

"WHAT!" Corpse yelled.

"Where was the body at?" Sean laughed.

"Uh I found it in electrical," Bretman said.

"I'm pretty sure Karl was in there earlier."

You calmly said, "It's not Karl, I was with him for most of the round."

"How do we know the two of you aren't imposters?" Sean asked.

"I was alone with him, he would have taken the chance to kill me."

"No, he's your best friend."

"He's also ruthless,"

"TRUE! SO TRUE!" Karl yelled.

"So skip?" Corpse asked.

Everyone agreed and the voting was skipped.

The next round, I spent with Ethan. He was pretending to be mad at me because Sean said Karl was my best friend.

"What happened to Blue Boi Buddies, huh?!" He exclaimed.

"Neither of our hair is even blue anymore!" You argued back.

You were in reactor with him when Corpse and Poki walked in. He hit the lights and you took it as a sign to double kill. He killed Poki, you killed Ethan, and the two of you made your way to electrical to help fix lights.

You and Corpse went the opposite direction of reactor after the lights were fixed, Karl going with you.

Poki's body was reported. That double kill only left you, Corpse, Sean, Karl and Bretman. You only needed two more kills.

"I still think it's Karl and (Y/n)," Sean said quickly.

"I was with (Y/n) the whole time," Corpse said, "In fact, I think it's you."

"That does make sense. Why so quick to accuse others, Sean?" You ask.

"It's not me!" He yelled.

"I actually agree with Corpse and (Y/n)," Bretman said.

"I was with you!"

We all voted for Sean, him voting for Karl. Sean was ejected.

When you load into spawn, you wait for the kill cool down and kill Bretman, saving Karl.

"Victory" appeared on your screen.

"God damn it!" Sean yelled.

"Good job, (Y/n)," Corpse said lowly.

You smiled, a slight blush on your cheeks, "You too Corpse."

"Their voices go together and they're a fuckin dream team? What have i done...," Felix sighed.

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A few more games went by. Most of them you and Corpse spent together, whether you were both crewmates or if one of you was imposter.

You really enjoyed his company and you actually got along with him pretty well.

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"(Y/n), before we get serious, I have one question to ask you." Corpse said as both of your characters stopped.

"What's that?" You giggled.

"Do you know Bingus?"

"Bingus? As in, our lord and savior, Bingus?"

You could hear the smile in his voice, "It's settled, you're my wife now."

This made both of you laugh and your chat go crazy.

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Eventually, people had to start leaving. You said your goodbyes to everyone and left the discord call and the game.

You set stream to where it was just your face cam.

"Guys, what should we do now?"

You saw some people asking what time it was for you.

"It's 3 AM right now... I’m not tired though.” You had been streaming for a few hours; You never even noticed how late it got.

People in chat were yelling at you to go to sleep, making you chuckle.

“How about we do a quick QnA, then at 3:30 I go to bed. Deal?”

You watched as the chat filled with questions. They obviously seemed to like the idea.

“‘Who is your best friend? Karl or Ethan?’ Neither, Alex Quackity. Next question.” You answered quickly.

You laughed, “I’d like to clarify that that’s a joke, i love all my friends equally.”

You answered more questions. Some were from new viewers asking basic questions, some were about future streams and videos. 

“‘How do you feel about people shipping you and Corpse?’“ People are already shipping us?” You laughed, “I’ve said before that I’m okay with shipping, as long as the other person is too. I think it’s funny.”

You continued to read chat. “Wait, we’re trending?”

You checked Twitter and “#(your and corpse’s ship name)” was trending in the US.

You laughed as you scrolled through the tag, “Oh this is so funny.”

“Fanart already?! You guys are so talented!”

You read chat, looking for more questions. You saw people telling you that it’s 3:30.

“Okay fine, a deal’s a deal. I hope you all have, or had, a great day and I’ll see you guys later. Depending on what time it is for you, you should also get some sleep. Stay hydrated, love you!” You ended stream.

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You scrolled through Twitter as you laid in bed, liking fanart and dumb memes. Also replying to a few of your friends’ tweets.

karl :) @/KarlJacobs_

@/(your username) what the honk ?

*clip of you saying Quackity was your best friend*           

You liked the tweet and replied, “karl no,,, look away,,,”

You continued scrolling, feeling your eyes get droopy. Your eyes fell closed but quickly opened when your phone vibrated. It was a DM. 

From Corpse.

You two had followed each other earlier.

Corpse: hey (y/n), just wanted to say you’re really cool and i’d love to play again with you soon 

You smiled, a light blush spreading across your cheeks, and replied.

You: i’d love to, corpse

Corpse: ok, see you soon ‘wife’

You: back at ya, ‘husband”

Corpse: :)

You: :)

#corpse #corpse husband #corpse x y/n #corpse x you #corpse x reader #corpse imagines #corpse fanfic #uh #corpse husband x reader