#also i know they don’t want me to take this seriously and make it gay but i’m going to | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

edgeray · 3 months

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“LATE NIGHT DEVIL, PUT YOUR HANDS ON ME

and never never never ever let go”- Teeth, 5 Seconds of Summer

Mafia AU! Arlecchino x Reader Oneshot

Author's Note: It's been a while since I've actually published anything on here. Well, my gay ass is back with another oneshot. This one has been in the works for at least a month. I'm considering making a Part 2, but that will definitely take at least a couple weeks for me to publish (if not months). I wish I was kidding. School literally hates me and my teachers are incessant on killing my GPA. This is also a gift for @megistusdiary because it'll be her birthday when I post this. Please go check out her blog for amazing genshin wlw content (especially Arlecchino content!) Would you guys like this on AO3 as well?

Content Warning/Info: This is a long af oneshot (6.3k words), long af descriptions and kinda long intro, Arlecchino is referred to with they/them pronouns, implied female but no usage of feminine pronouns for Reader, general dark-ish content, pet names, Arlecchino is a lil scary, I've never been to a club so I apologize for the very inaccurate information, nor have I ever been apart of the mafia so also inaccurate, a bit suggestive but otherwise sfw, if I'm missing anything feel free to tell me!

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Monsters are said to have lied underneath beds–waiting to ensnare an unknowing victim–or stalk hidden among the depths of a closet–awaiting an opportune moment to strike its next prey. Monsters are fabled entities that are used to scare off children from bad behavior and are quickly eased from the mind by coddling parents. The mere notion of a monster shooed away like a pesky fly, swept underneath the subconscious like forgotten specks of dirt.

You know otherwise. Real monsters don’t lurk on the undersides of mattresses; no, they lurk both in the skies above and the depths below. They do not stalk dark closets because they instead stalk alleys in daylit streets. Monsters are very real, that you know is true since you’ve seen your fair share of them. You’ve met monsters in person–they’ve come to you before. Terrifying is an understatement for them, and each time one has appeared as a client, you’re no less scared shitless.

You’ve learned that even inhumane demons find themselves in need of entertainment; like the sinful creatures they are, they seek self-pleasure. And that is how you found yourself in this particular circle of hell, meant to serve and please demons, devils, and monsters alike. Perhaps it was a revolting job, working at a strip club run by a criminal organization but it paid decent money for being danced on the fingertips of whoever you were unfortunate enough to be assigned to.

If it was a regular strip club, being an exotic dancer would have been fine. It wouldn't be so bad. Lustful and prying eyes can be accustomed to quickly, and so are the flattering compliments and the awkward flirting by middle-aged married men. However, there was a difference between lecherous and predatory gazes. Here, you aren’t even viewed as a person, no, the clients here, those that come in reeking of smoke or blood (though sometimes both), armed with knives and guns on their person, see you as nothing more than a toy or prey for them. Even in the eyes of your employer, you're less than human in their eyes.

‘You harm our merchandise, you’ll pay for it,’ is the warning given to every guest when they first enter. Merchandise. That's what you are. And that single line of words is the only thing that assures you of your safety among mafia members, gangsters, crooks, and whatnot. You've heard that the organization behind this strip club does well in enforcing that rule according to other dancers, but you personally don't want to see if the statement is true. You've been here for a little over a year, and besides bruising grips and pulled hair you’ve surprisingly yet to be seriously injured in any way. So maybe monsters do have a little humanity in them.

You're quickly growing to be a fan favorite as of recently, which means more money goes your way, but you're not sure how you feel about all the attention on you. It's most likely because of how often you offer private dances and private rooms to clients. Whatever gets you the most money; the faster you make money the faster you can pay off your debt and be out of here.

Tonight is supposed to be no different from other nights. You perform on stage, you rile up the crowd, you get showered in tips, and if there is a customer that looks mentally sane enough not to murder you in private, you take them to the back. Except, tonight, you're approached by your boss, who informs you that the entirety of the club was reserved by the Fatui, a well-known mafia more powerful and larger than the one that backs you up, for some celebration. These kinds of occurrences in the club rarely crop up, but when they do, they're often the most opportune time to bag in an abundant amount of money. Big shots like the Fatui pay and tip well, but there's one unsaid risk that comes with this: as a mere dancer like yourself, your life quite literally dangles in the Fatuis’ hands tonight. The organization that owns this establishment can't retaliate against the Fatuis if they so choose to dismiss the warning. They can't even compare to the might of the Fatui.

Simply put, if a Fatui kills you tonight, no one could do more besides bat their eyelashes. You're not at all pleased with this predicament of practically bordering on death, especially when you know one wrong move with one too hot-tempered Fatui could land you at the pearly gates. Keep pleasing the crowd, keep entertaining them, keep racking in the money, you remind yourself as you continue your dance, twirling around the pole sensually, and the customers devour every movement with their eyes. The only comfort you're given is that you've heard the Fatui are quite reasonable and diplomatic most of the time. This is especially true for the Harbingers, you've heard, the twelve most elite members that serve under the Tsaritsa, and the ones that are the most exclusive customers this night. That doesn't mean the Harbingers are any more humane than the average crook. Having worked in a strip club run by the mafia and surrounded by criminal organizations, the more rumored something is, the more dangerous it is. They can be considered devils amongst demons even. That's simply how vile they're supposed to be.

The most concerning problem about the Harbingers is that you don’t know what they look like, only the occasional whisper has alluded to how to distinguish between the twelve. Perhaps, you can survive through the night if you try not to draw too much attention; let the other dancers shine instead and hope you don’t get requested for a private room or dance. That way, you can ensure you don’t end up dead.

Your time to go upstage comes sooner than you’re prepared for. Your hands are clammy, and your form trembles in a way that only happened during your first month. Both reactions don’t make for a very good combination when your survival relies on you not fucking up and disappointing criminal customers. As you approach the pole, just like every time you’ve done, you make sure that the crowd’s gazes are in the backdrop of your mind, and instead, fixate on repeating the movements you’ve been taught and have mastered with your experience. Bet your survival on the provocative sway of your hips, the practiced showcase of your legs, and the allure of your dancing form. Beguile the crowd, but not too much, just enough to wow them. From what you can tell by the volume of the crowd, you’re doing a good job pleasing the Fatui enough. Your body stops tremoring after a few minutes on stage, and with one last final push of courage, you focus your eyes on the crowd before you.

Unsurprisingly, the makeup of the Fatui are men, though there are notably quite a few women. Either way, all of their attention is on you. As your eyes scan across a crowd, for one reason or another, you stop at a particular set of eyes near the back of the crowd. Intent, pitch-black abysses stare back, like they were trying to bore into your soul and devour every single motion of yours. They don’t quite hold the same ravenous desire as many of those before you right now, you mentally note with curiosity. It feels like your form is being calculated, in the way a predator would cautiously observe their next prey, a sensation you’ve experienced a few times, but each is no less chilling. The weight of their engrossed gaze causes you to shiver momentarily, and you snap away from their disturbing gaze to prevent any fumbling or faltering while you’re on stage.

Tonight marks the first time you actively seek out the same viewer while on stage, or even, during your entire time here. For some reason, you feel awfully bold, or curious, whichever two comforts you more, and unlike the meek little rabbit you usually are, you instead search for the viewer’s gaze. You find the pair of eyes with relative ease, as you remember that above their eyes are distinctive snow-white strands with streaks as black as their orbs. You take a moment to study them, and they remind you of a lion–or lioness–among hyenas. The aura they exude varied quite a bit compared to the other Fatui in front of you: not rambunctious, or arrogant; it's apparent they held an aura of indomitable authority just from the way they held themselves. Perfect posture with their clasped hands nested in their lap, with one leg raised over the other. They’re an embodiment of perfected elegance, however, much like a porcelain doll, they’re also expressionless, their appearance unmarred. You don’t examine the Fatui’s form for much longer because their scrutiny on you pricks at your skin irritatedly.

You don’t look for them again throughout your performance. In fact, you hope you never meet those charcoal pits again. You’re afraid that if you do, you’ll be ensnared by whatever beastly claws or fangs you know that Fatui hides underneath that impenetrable mask. The moment your time on stage ends, you rush back to the changing room to shake off your nerves. You sit down at a nearby chair, taking in deep sighs as you attempt to forget how you were stared down like a you were cornered, defenseless animal. And that is what you are, as much as you hate it. There’s nothing that can protect you from the Fatui. Maybe if you hide, never show your face for the rest of the night, they’ll forget they ever saw you and they’ll target another dancer. Surely, that will work, won’t it?

You’re able to steady your breathing before you can delve into a panic attack. Tonight, you decide, you’re not going to take any customers to any private rooms or take any private dances. You’d be missing out on a lot of money, but your life is more of a priority as of currently; not after the ‘encounter’ with that individual, you don’t want to think about how many more are just like them, hiding in the crowd like they were awaiting an opportunity to pounce on your vulnerable form.

Unfortunately, it seems like someone else has other plans for you because your manager storms into the room asking for your whereabouts before his eyes narrow on you. You immediately sit up, stiff as a board when he practically marches his way towards you.

"Someone wants you."

You sigh and shake your head. You should have known. "Not tonight."

He clicks his tongue. "You know I can't allow that tonight."

You bite your lip. "Just pass them to someone else."

"They're not someone you or I can refuse."

"Who?" You question with a shuddering breath, your nails digging into your thigh.

"The fourth one. The Knave. Lord Arlecchino."

Fuck your life. You might as well pull the trigger now. You’ve heard faint whispers of each Harbinger from the customers audacious enough to speak of them. The youngest, the eleventh, charming and boyish. The ninth, money-obsessed but a pretty looker. The eighth, elegant and cold, yet no less alluring. The seventh, as human-like as their robotic creations, which to say isn’t very. The sixth, is hotheaded and mysterious. The fifth, unknown. And the fourth?

Insane. Ruthless. Bloodthirsty. That’s how the fourth is described. You shiver at the horrors that appear on the forefront of your mind when imagining what may come for you. If you're lucky, you'll be alive at the end of the night, more than likely clinging to the edge of living.

“Well? What are you waiting for? Get ready as soon as you can.”

And you do. It’s not long until you stand in front of the private room’s door, your guest is already inside more than likely. The Fourth Harbinger is waiting, you remind yourself, fruitlessly trying to swallow down your stress. You can be dead the minute you step inside, this room could be marked as your grave. Whatever he tells you to do, you’ll obey wordlessly to survive. Just nod along, smile, and do whatever it is that he tells you regardless of the demand. You inhale deeply, regaining some ease of mind, before you bring your knuckles to the door, knocking.

“Come in,” comes a deep, flat voice, slightly muffled by its distance but what surprises you is how feminine the Harbinger sounds. Maybe you got the wrong room. You glance back at the room number plate on the door, and it’s the room you remember your manager mentioning. It’s the right room. Maybe someone else? You don’t have time to wonder, however, as you enter the room, knowing that if it is the Fourth, it wouldn’t be wise to keep him (Her? Them? You’ll just stick with ‘them’ now.) waiting.

“Lord Arlecchino?” You inquire as you enter the room, closing the door behind you. Sucking in a harsh inhale, you instantly recognize their distinct hair. It’s them. Your sight is immediately greeted by the figure sitting on the couch before you, sitting in exactly the same way you discovered them–crossed-legged and lounging back with unfaltering confidence. The Knave wears a scarlet blazer over a black compressed turtleneck, with a matching set of crimson leggings. Upon closer inspection, you’re able to make out red irises in their jet-black eyes. Despite the blatant and literal red flag, something about their appearance draws you in even when they scream danger. They’re… you’re not quite sure how to describe them. You admire the unblemished and pale skin, their elegant and rugged demeanor is like the perfect balance between femininity and masculinity. Are they beautiful, or are they handsome? You think both.

Arlecchino stares back at you like they’re considering devouring you then and there. You can’t suppress the shudder that runs down your spine. You’re a sheep before a wolf. There’s something so chilling about them that even with your experience with other clients, none has ever made you feel this way with just their mere gaze alone. This is what separates the average crook from one of the most powerful mafia members you've ever heard of.

You wait for a response but they only continue to observe you. You take the silence as confirmation to your question and that they’re anticipating something from you. Biting back a sigh of resignation, your hands hook underneath the band of your bra top and you lift it just the slightest amount before a cutting voice makes you freeze.

“What are you doing?” the Harbinger demands, their tone chilling and apathetic, making you want to shrink in yourself immediately. Your blood pumps loudly in your ears and your hands tremble a bit. Something about how designing their gaze makes you suddenly self-aware in a way you’ve never felt before another client–you’re practically half-naked in front of them with your skimpy bra top, undergarments, and fishnets and now is the only moment that you've actually considered how little covering is on you.

Why are they stopping you? Isn’t this what they wanted you to do? Or maybe they just want to do it themselves. Those types of customers always have the most bruising of grips and suffocating of holds. You stiffen at the notion. How are you going to survive this night with a Fatui Harbinger of all things? How many of your limbs are going to be fractured and how many of your bones are going to end up broken?

“I…I’m undressing,” your meek voice sounds out and you hate the crack in your speech. The Harbinger continues to scrutinize you. You don’t dare continue disrobing yourself.

There are several beats of wordless response before they then stand up from the couch.

Oh shit. You’ve fucked up. Are they going to kill you now? Is this your end?

Every thought is telling you to run in the opposite direction as they stalk up to you, but you're petrified as you realize with a chill that they’re taller than you. You’re not short by any means, a bit above average height, but they tower over you, looking down at you from above and casting judgment on you like a god. Once they stride toward you, you avoid eye contact by looking straight, observing their neck and clavicle that protrudes from underneath the fabric. You tense when they raise a hand, their manicured fingers placing themselves underneath your chin and long, carmine nails dig into the underside of your jaw, making you wince. They forcefully tilt your head, raising your focus onto their face.

It’s like they plunged their hands down your throat and ripped out the oxygen from your lungs, leaving you unable to breathe. Up close, the first thing you notice is their lips, plump and red from their lipstick. Briefly, you wonder what color their lipstick would look on your skin. Then your eyes travel up, red-crossed eyes gaze back at you and you gape quietly at the distinct shape of their pupils. You swear that their pupils flash red as you finally lock eye contact with them.

“Did I tell you to?” Their tone is cold compared to the strange softness of their handsome (beautiful?) face.

Something in your gut coils inwardly and you want to look away, but their firm hold on your chin prevents you. You bite your bottom lip to repress a whimper. You’re delicate glass in their hands, and they can break you so, so easily.

“No, sir.” Only the numerous times you’ve said this phrase ensures you don’t stumble over your words. They don’t answer promptly, but as they observe your features, their lips quirk up the slightest amount.

“You know how to address me. Very good,” Arlecchino purrs after several beats of silence, in a low, oh-so-sultry tone, and oh. Oh.

You’re not sure why, but their last two words make your stomach churn, but not in a discomforting way. In the way that lights a fire underneath your skin and spreads heat to every part of your body. You’ve never quite felt this way with another customer. You couldn’t believe that your body reacts this way just from a single praise but it doesn’t stop the pooling heat in your bowels. The chill down your spine still remains in place, but there’s an off-putting equilibrium of iciness and fervor generated from the client.

The Fatui’s eyes stay fixated on you wordlessly until the hand on your chin turns your head, finally breaking you free of their intense behold. Their grip slackens so that they can trace their nails gently down your throat, every inch of surface their fingertips brush against ignites a blaze on your skin. A shuddering exhale leaves your lips and it seems like they take notice because from the corner of your eye, the small uptick of their mouth grows. Despite how sensual and probing the Harbinger’s touch feels, there’s nothing lecherous about it–purely just intrigue and fascination. It’s a touch you both have and never experienced before. Cold nails rake against your throat, not enough to mark or scratch, but enough to invoke shivers.

You’re aware you should be terrified, but for a reason you can’t pin down, you can’t jerk away from their touch. You try to reason with yourself it was only because you’re one upset away from getting yourself killed but that reasoning falls apart when their hand gingerly traces your jawline and you make the softest of groans, a barely audible noise of content. Unfortunately for you, the sound seems to have reached Arlecchino’s ears and their expression softens slightly: their eyes narrow less and their brows aren’t as creased. And that smirk–if you could even call it that from how faint it is–becomes a half-smirk.

They pull their hand away and your trance is broken, reality returning back to you as you remember that the person before you is still a Fatui Harbinger, no matter how bizarrely melting their touch was. They turn on their heel and walk towards the couch in front of you; the slightest bit of heaviness is placed on your heart. You remain stationary where you are, observing them as they seat themselves gracefully on the couch, and their attention encounters yours again. Their black pits hold expectancy in them. At first, you’re clueless as to what the criminal desires from you, but then their legs spread apart, an inviting gesture that beckons you and every rational thought leaves your easily swayed mind. Your heart skips a beat, and you're sure this time it's not out of trepidation.

Even if you didn’t command them to, your legs would take you to their seating figure. You stand before them, feeling blatantly disrespectful to look down at Arlecchino, but you await their order. They lean back, lounging laxly against the couch, their posture never lacking their usual self-assurance. It only ties the knot in your gut tighter. You’re aware of what they’re instructing you to do, but the absent confirmation makes you hesitant. It seems like the Knave picks up on this because the room echoes with one definitive spouted word from their lips, authority and dominance ringing through their husky voice.

“Sit.”

Your legs buckle underneath you from the one-worded response, the demand only stoking the consuming fire inside you. Eager to please, you perch yourself on their lap, straddling them, your knees pressed into the furniture below you and encasing both of their thighs between your own.

Oh, you think to yourself as your legs make contact with their thighs. They're firm. And for some reason, that provokes your stomach to churn in itself even more. You're so close to them, enough to feel their breath cascade against your skin.

As you seat yourself, you nearly clumsily topple over, instinctively grasping onto their shoulders for support. Their shoulders are remarkably broad, you regard, well-muscled as well. Their hands creep up on your hips, steady but gentle hands grasping on each bare side of yours to stabilize you. The heat that radiates from their hands is infectious, regardless of the nails that burrow into your plush waist. For the first time, you flush considerably, a sweltering inferno forming in your cheeks and your head fills with dizziness. Their touch is gentle–something you rarely experience with customers–so, so gentle that you would describe it as heavenly. How can someone so inexplicably vile have heaven on their fingertips?

It's not a position you never found yourself in. In fact, it's far from the first time you've been like this with another client. But here, as you're sat on top of the Fatui Harbinger, and red x-pupils search yours, a foreign feeling passes through you. Placing your finger on it, you dubiously think it's bashfulness, but the heartbeat that sings in your ears and pulses underneath your fingertips tells you otherwise, tells you it's something more. Against that, you remove your grasp on their shoulders and place your palm flat against the couch’s surface behind the Knave.

You squirm a bit, nervousness in your form as you remain as still as you possibly can, waiting for any more instructions. All you need to do is act like an obedient doll for them in order to survive; compliance is the best way of ensuring survival with people like these. You feel like you're merely eye candy from the way that their attention flits across your body, but you're immobile throughout the entirety of their observance. Being looked at is much better than any physical interaction. Their hands still cup your hips, but slowly, they descend to the side of your thighs, making your skin feel tingly.

Impulsively, you mumble out a quiet "Sir…" as strange sensations brush against your skin.

The sound surprises you and you feel on edge as their eyes travel from your lower half to your face. You gulp considerably. From their stare, they expect more of a response, a reason for their addressment, but even you don’t know yourself; it seems like an unconscious calling that just rolled off your tongue. You cow underneath their gaze, even when the two of you are at eye level. When you linger in quietude, their hand releases one of your thighs and lifts to your face, supporting your chin while their thumb rests on your bottom lip, unfurling it just the slightest amount to implore an answer from your now parted lips. Gleaming scarlet pupils grip your regard sternly, piercing into you and instilling you to spew something out. Except, you still can’t, now too entranced and lost in the crimson.

“Doll.”

Despite the pet name, it's devoid of any affection or warmth. It's a word that drips of command, a reminder of your place: simply a toy that they can play with however they want, a manipulated and decorated plaything for their amusement. That means you answer to them, and so when they request a response, you're under the obligation to please them. Your survival is in their palms anyway, if they wanted you to dance, you would just so they wouldn’t strangle the life out of you.

However, its implication doesn’t prevent the tingling shudders that wrack your body nor the involuntary clenching of your thighs around theirs. Was it the gravelly voice that aroused your behavior? Your cheeks flare at the knowledge that Harbinger sensed the physical reaction. It shouldn't be possible. It shouldn't be possible, your thoughts repeat, but then they're interrupted by:

"Oh?" Arlecchino inquires to themselves, a stark amusement in their speech. Their red glare illuminates slightly, replacing the lost darkening with a faint glow in their pupils, and the corner of their mouth curls up. It is only then that you discover something entirely new: that monsters can be sinfully, cataclysmically, terrifyingly beautiful and the sight before you is the most exquisite example. A devil has you wrapped in its claws and its fangs readied for devouring but it’s disguised as an ethereal angel; blinded by their perilous allure, you mistake their snow-white hair, their lustrous piercing rubies, their flawless porcelain skin, and their burning, fleeting touches as traits of a seraph. From a measly smirk, you forget the atrocities lying underneath their fingertips and dismiss the hazard their presence holds.

The hand on your thigh rakes its fingers up, red nails trailing across the surface of your fishnet, wrenching out a breathy gasp from you as they travel inwards. Tingling pleasure injects into your veins as you subconsciously lean in, imploring for further sensual contact. A plea sits on your tongue and nests in your eyes as you beg them through your pitiful expression. They drink in your desperation with a slow swipe of their tongue over their lips, and that single action is debauched enough to elicit a soft groan from your throat.

“Well, aren’t you an amusing toy?” They drawl out with a preposing rasp and dark abysses glint with an insatiable hunger.

They smirk enticingly, their thumb running across your bottom lip and smearing your lipstick on their thumb pad. Their grip on your chin tightens a bit, pulling you even closer to them before a shadow casts over you when their face nears. Before you can even fathom their intentions, they descend upon you, closing the distance between the two of you. Your lips are greeted with something pillowy soft and fervently warm, and you sharply inhale from the sensation. Every one of your nerves sings frenziedly, your muscles tense all over, and your heartbeat drums deafeningly in your ears–all of this as your body is engulfed in a fervid tornado of heat that makes you lightheaded with pleasure. It takes you several beats to realize the reason for this is that Lord Arlecchino, the Fourth Harbinger, the Knave is kissing–no, kissing is far too intimate, devouring–you voraciously like they're trying to rob you of any air, trying to imprint themselves on your mouth. Their mouth dominates yours, pushing against them with a deep fervor and famished urgency, eager to swallow every bit of shocked noise you make.

You close your eyes and allow yourself to indulge.

You first taste lipstick with a waxy flavor hitting your tastebuds. It’s cold against your lips, yet warm at the same time. But the physical texture and flavor of their lips are irrelevant; there’s only one true manner you would distinguish their taste:

They taste like sin.

The type of sin that’s chocolate coated and sprinkled with colorful toppings; depravity so sweet and charming it makes you reconsider the bounds of right and wrong. Degeneracy is far, far tastier than anything you’ve indulged in before. How can something so evil be so heavenly? Cushiony soft, placidly warm, flatteringly zealous, it’s like having a dance with a devil; so unequivocally immoral but no less gratifying. You question if they really belong to the Fatui because how can something like this come from such? You want to engrave the texture of their mouth onto your memory, feel this faux intimacy even when you’ve long parted. The Fourth Harbinger, you surmise as you surrend your will to them, is decadent–the only word that can be defined as both wicked and delectable at once–the perfect word to describe them.

The last remaining bit of reasoning comes to the backdrop of your thoughts and begs you to not be swept away in the heavenly embrace. You discount it in favor of accepting this godsent gift by leaning further with a weak imitation of their ravishing lips and pressing back. It’s a feeble attempt to match their insatiate nature, far too domineering and forceful than you can manage but they display a token of appreciation when they squeeze your thigh, indenting your skin shallowly with the burrowing of their nails. The action exposes just how sensitive you’ve gone underneath their touch and you reward them with the sweetest of sounds.

“Arlecchino,” you mumble with half-lidded dazed eyes in between ravenous exchanges and it evokes a depraved throaty growl from the Fatui, like provoking a call from a starving beast. They lean deeper to indulge in your taste. The gruff sound reaches your ears and it’s like a psalm–you shudder from its musical melody.

Their clutch on your jaw releases and their fingers outline your jawline before snaking to the back of your head. Well-manicured digits entangle themselves in your hair, and there’s a gentle shove against your skull that forces you deeper into the kiss. Your hands clutch onto the couch underneath you as tight as you physically can for any sense of grounding and your knees attempt to close in even more to feel more of their body against yours. The hand on your leg, in turn, caresses the length of your thigh.

Every graceful touch, stroke, and brush exudes an unyielding and infectious warmth that only adds to the stoking fire in your gut, and you’re bathed in so much swelter from the ecstasy that you feel dizzy. Yet, you never want it to end, you grow more addicted and drunk with each encounter of their lips. That, paired with your strained breathing, prompts your stamina to falter much sooner than the Harbinger’s. You let out a soft whine to signal your depleting oxygen, and their mouth unlatch with yours, pulling away despite your ache for more. With the separation comes a small string of saliva attached between the two of you, evidence of the shared intimacy that’s snapped when they lick their lips. The hand behind your head detangles from your hair and you silently mourn over the loss of contact.

You heave for air, your chest rising and falling rapidly. You’re a little perturbed when you notice that they’re not even out of breath, a small but firm reminder that they’re as inhuman as humans can be. That knocks a sense of reality back into you. Customer, mafia, Fatui, Harbinger, it comes back to you like a train. Here you are swapping spit with them while in the lap of potentially the most dangerous criminal you could ever meet, but fuck were they a good kisser–you’ve never experienced anything that came close to this in your lifetime.

Any foolish doubtful contemplation of the morality of this interaction is swept away just like that when you hear:

“Greedy little thing that you are,” they regard with the most cunning and handsome of smiles, discrete amusement dripping from their words. Their dark pits behold you entirely, the same way they have always done when it seems like they were contemplating what part of you to savor the most. Only this time, you’re not so disturbed by the notion. If anything, the swirling heat in between your legs suggests the opposite.

Greedy wasn't a word often associated with you, yet you couldn't more correctly describe yourself in that moment. Greedy. Greedy for a Fatui Harbinger no less. As ashamed as you should be, there's no use denying that you crave for their touch, for their gaze, for anything and everything they're willing to give you. You want everything and more. The more you contemplate, the more it seems obvious why you wouldn’t. Are they a devil disguised as an angel, or are they an angel that fell from grace? Regardless, they bring nirvana to you. An incessant desire bubbles inside you, your throat swelling up with an urgent request on the tip of your tongue. Would they allow such a thing if you plead? Would they be offended by your impudence? Would they punish you for such? But the necessity outweighs any reconsideration of your insolence and the supplicant beg tumbles out of your loose lips.

“Can I… touch you please, my Lord?” You croak out, wincing at just how wretched it comes out. The response from them is not immediate as the two of you stew in silence, a building sense of dejection inside of you. The expression on their face noticeably contorts, smile lessening, their brows furrowing, and their red x’s glinting dimly. Their free hand raises to near your neck and you suck in a harsh breath as their fingers enclose around your throat. The mere action sends a stinging reminder to your lust-dazed thoughts about their position, and a chill pierces you.

Mafia, Fatui, Harbinger, the Fourth Harbinger, the Knave–the labels cycle through your thoughts. Though their grip is lax, not exactly suffocating and giving ample space to breathe, their fingertips does acutely jab into your skin, a display of their impressive grip strength. You have no doubt that they can suffocate you with one hand alone, snap your neck, or, as your mind ventures into more harrowing territories, crush your skull. Those thoughts alone has you breathless with anticipation. A heavy weight suddenly appears in your gut, so heavy that you feel like you can’t move so much as a muscle.

Did you just go too far? Was that too much to ask? Was this how you were going to die?

The reflex to gag and inhale combat each other in your throat, a discomforting sensation that crawls up your spine while you tremble. You’re almost certain that the nails have penetrated the layer of skin, drawing beads of blood that’ll trail down your mark. You whimper at the prickly pain. Yet, in all your unease, the most masochistic thought arrives briefly at the forefront, and you can’t help but consider: this position is just as intimate as all the other interactions. You’re already so vulnerable in their lap, does the hand around your neck change your peril in any way? No, you’ve been a defenseless lamb to a slaughter the moment you’ve stepped into the domain of a menacing wolf.

Ah. Even now, you can’t dismiss the warmth of their fingertips.

“Do you still want to touch me when I do this?” They demand callously, their voice harsh and reverberating through the room. Their grasp closes more around, and you feel your supply of oxygen inhibited. Tears begin to brim your eyes, but you’re undeterred. Unlike Arlecchino’s, your answer is instant and breathless. Your eyes intently lock on theirs, the hardened expression enough to satisfy their question. There’s no need for contemplation. Danger, you determine, is addicting.

“Yes.”

The previously small smile stretches across their lips considerably. Content, or dare you say it, thrill writes itself over their face and the boulder previously pressed against your shoulders is lifted. Your throat is freed from their hold, but their touch doesn’t halt there. Instead, they rotate your head for you to face to the left, exposing your side profile to them. From the corner of your eyes, you watch as their face draws closer to your skin, hot breath cascading across the small dents her nails created. The one on your thigh finally leaves, moving to one of your hips, tender strokes across your flushed surface. They lean forward, and moist, plush skin meets yours. Lips traverse over the length of your neck, teeth scraping against, making you weakly groan. It takes all of your will to still your body, only allowing for the Harbinger to do whatever they desire to your form. Their touches are burning, burning, burning–so hot that you wonder if you’re experiencing a heat wave. Peppered kisses follow the edge of your jawbone, all the way up to your earlobe. A wet kiss graces your ear and then the most sinful of statements dignifies your eardrums, like a devil whispering hymns directly into your ear.

“I think I’ll keep you to myself after this.”

A short hum follows afterward.

“If you want to touch me, you’ll have to work for it. You’re only mine for tonight, aren't you? Entertain me. Give me a private dance, doll. After all, you have me for all night.”

---

Link to M-Alexa's amazing art and how I imagine Arlecchino to look like in this oneshot.

#arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x you #arlecchino #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact fanfics #guys I'm so tired it's 2AM rn #i have school tomorrow guys #i chose to finish this tonight despite the shit ton of homework I have to do #arlecchino brain rot does that to you #def worth it #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact arlecchino #genshin arlecchino #genshin fics #arlecchino smut #edgeray.writes #edgeray.blog

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fairyhaos · 8 months

Text

How To Fucking Write: a guide by fairyhaos

[masterlist]

this post details:

STARTING A STORY

PACING A STORY

hi gays and gals and welcome to "how to fucking write", a post (series) where i talk about how i brainstorm for writing, plan for writing, write the writing, and everything in between. nothing too serious here lmao, but i'm definitely planning on making at least a couple posts on this bc a) it's fun and b) i wanna help! so if you find this useful then pls lmk by reblogging + drop an ask if there are any specific things u want me to give my two cents on ^^

okok and now without further ado,,, let's look at the topics i'll talk about in today's post!

#1 - HOW TO START A STORY.

.. bullet point one : have an idea

the first big thing is that you need an idea. doesn't matter if you're a pantser and don't plan out your writing before you start. that's totally fine! but before you begin, you need at least an idea: maybe it's a vibe, a character personality, a specific journey you want the characters to go on. maybe it's a piece of dialogue. maybe it's the ending- the point you want to end up at after however many thousand words.

whatever it is, it's best to have some inspiration, some idea of what you wanna do. no point in writing if you don't know what you're writing, you know?

(of course, that brings up the issue of Having An Idea in the first place, but finding inspiration to write is a whole other can of worms we can open in another post.)

.. bullet point two : practice

okay, so now you have an idea. how do you put that idea to paper? how should you actually start your story?

it’s all to do with practice.

it’s the most annoying piece of advice in the world, but it helps so much. you just have to write lots and lots and lots, to find the way that works for you. whether you wanna start your stories with pretty scene descriptions, with dialogue, with dramatic one-liners. finding your voice, your style, what’s most comfortable for you, is really really important. and takes practice.

an example, though: for me, i prefer either a line of dialogue, or one-liners that a) help immediately establish a character’s personality or can b) introduce an interesting setting.

[chan + swingset] — one-liner example

[hoshi + silly] — dialogue example

but of course, everyone’s style is different. so i’d recommend playing around! find a list of one-word prompts and just write a few that inspire you, writing the beginnings. it’s important, also, that you’re having fun, because if you’re already struggling with starting to write, it’ll be even harder if you’re doing it while feeling stressed.

.. bullet point three (mostly just for longer fics)

maybe you don’t find a style, in the end. maybe you’re comfortable with all of them, which is totally fine! but then you look at your writing, and you think, “oh… this isn’t as good as i thought.”

and it makes you want to give up. what do you do, then? how do you carry on with your start?

just put words to paper. it doesn’t matter if the words are terrible, if you’re making up shit and using placeholders for description words or whatever. just carry on, get to a place you’re happy with, like the end of a scene, or maybe a dialogue exchange you really like.

because now, guess what? you’ve successfully created a first draft.

making first drafts is actually so important. seriously. first drafts allow you to fuck up, allow you to write terribly. they help you fumble and trip your way to the finish line (or at least a rest point) so that you can go back and do better.

even if your first draft is terrible, it’s helped you make your way to a point you’re happy with. now you have a vague idea of what you want, even if the description or characterisation or something is way off. because now, you can edit it, or even scrap it and use only a few words from that draft in your next one. or maybe, if you look back at it, maybe it’s even decent enough for you to use.

whatever it is, when you first start writing that story, think of it as ‘The Worst Draft’. because it probably won’t be as good as you want it, and it’s okay. just write, with no fears of it being bad, because that’s literally fine. it’s not set in stone. the backspace button exists. after your first draft is made, make another. and another, and another, because i promise, after that first draft, it only gets better from there.

#2 - PACING A STORY.

.. bullet point one : adding things

pacing is always really tricky. however, i do think that slowing a story down is easier than speeding it up, so here we go,,,,

finding out the exact way to slow down a story really depends on what type of story you're writing, but there are a few all-round things you can do which can help pretty much any setting.

if it's a scene with loads of dialogue, and things feel like they're jumping to the end topic too quickly, add descriptions. your readers are blind, writers, and they depend on you to be able to see what's going on. are your characters having a conversation on the street? take a break to describe what they see. are they in a coffee shop? maybe someone comes in with a huge noise, or their coffee arrives at their table. are they hanging in midair with nothing around them? well, describe the actions of the character they're talking to, then.

example: (from my seoksoo fic bc it's the only long fic i'm working on rn)

by adding character descriptions, movement, thoughts, instantly everything seems to have slowed down. it thickens time, allowing you to move at a more leisurely pace.

if it's a scene full of action, you can do the exact same thing. maybe there's a high-tension moment and something significant happens. slow down time there, describe something small in great detail. talk about the thoughts they're having.

and even if it's just an ordinary scene, describing is important. the setting, the characters' actions, their thoughts. it's okay to write too much. then you can delete things which make things feel like they're moving too slowly.

.. bullet point two : delete

not gonna lie, finding out how to speed up the pacing of the story can often be really specifically tailored to the setting of the story.

with stories that have loads of action (spy, apocalypse, etc) i'd recommend adjusting sentence length. you'll want short, punchy sentences, without loads of commas and clauses, but you'll also want to experiment with having those short sentences gradually get longer. it helps with tension and suspense.

it has to be short. running fast. something to elevate fear. quick, but also desperate, before they then spill over each other, picking up pace, all of the thoughts blurring together and going faster, and faster, and faster, and then-

then the penny drops.

people use the metaphor of music a lot, and it really does work that way. it needs to ascend to its climax: gently, cautiously, before sprinting upwards and only describing things like the barest emotions (the fear they feel, the panic, anger, anything) before everything reaches its peak and comes crashing down in a flurry of action descriptions.

but of course, the easiest way to speed up something is to delete. delete swathes of setting description. delete unnecessary dialogue. delete an entire scene and rewrite with only the things you remember (which can help make sure you only have the essentials in your scene, btw. very helpful).

it might take a bit of adjusting, rewriting, moving things around, but ultimately, quickening the pace of the story depends on the way in which you write things. be concise, be dramatic, and don't dawdle.

... and that's it ! if anyone has anything else they want advice on (how to structure, how to write dialogue, how to plan etc) then just shoot me an ask, because i'd love to help however i can :)

tagging: @selenicives who asked for this in the first place hehe ^^

#a guide by fairyhaos #ngl ive always wanted to try my hand as an advice giver soooo this is fun!#i really wanna help guys. like fr #fanfic #svt fanfic #svt fic #seventeen #txt #fanfiction #writing #creative writing #writers of tumblr #writing prompt #svt x reader #txt x reader #kpop writing #ao3 #ao3 writer #ao3 fic

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cherrryxx · 6 months

Note

Hey, I hope you're okay. I would like yo request sole headcanons of Zoro and/or Sanji in a relationship with a male Reader. I hope it doesn't cause any inconvenience!

Absolutely!! I love requests so it was definitely not an inconvenience ❤️

ZORO / SANJI X MALE READER HCS

Warnings: teeth rotting fluff, mild cursing, Zoro is a tad jealous, sexuality hcs, male reader, teensy bit of angst (internalized homophobia), mentions of smoking

<><><><><><><><><><><><><>

ZORO

-Listen to me when I say that this man is 1000% MLM, gay, a homo

-Open about it in the way he doesn’t care who knows, or what people say

-Hasn’t been in many relationships because he considers them a lifetime commitment, he takes it very seriously in believes in both expressing love/emotions, while growing with one another

-At first he kind of treated it a bit like a job, but not in a negative way, he just wasn’t sure how to express emotions

-He would try to talk to you, but felt awkward if he didn’t know how to respond (mostly because what he had to say was how to fix it, and if you didn’t do it he knew he would get frustrated with you)

-After some time expressing emotion became a lot easier, he became a lot more comfortable with talking about things

-Love language is definitely quality time, acts of service, and physical touch

-He likes to take naps together with you, either using your chest as his pillow or vise-versa

-Anyone who would ever want to say something bad about your relationship is too scared to actually say anything

-Has some odd/different ways of showing affection

-sometimes he might give you food off his plate, or randomly lay his arm over your shoulder

-He also loves it when you train with him

-you don’t even have to do any actual training, you could just help him out by sitting on his back while he does pushups (at first he would just claim it’s because he needed a better workout, but over time it became an odd bonding activity)

-Wasn’t really sure how dates “worked” at first, but after figuring it out (asking Sanji) he would take you on dates at least once or twice a month

-His dates at first would be things he thought you would enjoy (aka crazy training exercises), but once he was able to figure out the things you liked he would bring you to those instead

-Would probably pretend to not like certain things (like romantic dinners/Watching a movie together), but would internally enjoy them so, so much.

-Would try to cook for you sometimes. Heavy emphasis on try (he wasn’t allowed in the kitchen for weeks)

SANJI

-This poor cook is definitely a Bisexual in denial

-Probably has some internalized homophobia due to his upbringing :( (but he would never let you know or take it out on you EVER, he would take that shit to the grave before ever considering that)

-Once he was able to work through that, he was much more comfortable with his sexuality.

-He would be a little unsure about how to express love with another man at first, but quickly warmed up

-He would cook food for you whenever you even hinted at being hungry, and would treat the dishes he made you with more care than even the girls’ plates

-Sanji would treat you more with the kindness he shows girls, rather than the way he would talk to Luffy, Zoro, or any other male crewmate

-He would be absolutely enamored by you, just looking at you would make his day better

-His love language is pretty much every love language to exist

-Constantly works with acts of service with how much he cooks for you, and would buy clothes or anything you wanted (gift giving)

-Always tells you how much he loves and appreciates you, all the time, and he loves it even more if it happens to make you flustered

-He would also try to share his cigarettes with you, but if you didn’t smoke, or had any issue with smelling it, he would either stop smoking entirely or make sure he smoked when he wasn’t around you

-Sanji loves to be near or around you as much as possible, if he’s cooking he wouldn’t even mind you asking to help, even if you accidentally messed something up

-Dates with this man are the most romantic shit ever

-Roses, candle lit dinner, expensive gifts, cuddles afterwards

-He truly thinks of every little detail when you two go on dates

-He’ll even restrain from kicking peoples’ asses when they annoy him to avoid ruining the mood

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absolutebl · 6 months

Text

This Week in BL - I'm All Over the Place, and so are the shows

Organized, in each category, by ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

Nov 2023 Wk 5

Ongoing Series - Thai

Last Twilight (Fri YT) ep 4 of 12 - The Jasmine flirting thing was so darn cute, I can’t. I love these two so much.

The Sign (Sat YT) ep 2 of 10 - Oh it’s great. Flirting. Fighting. Fate. Murder. Eventually we’ll add fucking. A trifffecta. I could do with a bit less training but whatever. And we have learned our boys are laboring under a geis. NO SINGING. Otherwise this ep was actually pretty flipping great.

My Dear Gangster Oppa (Thurs iQIYI) ep 6 of 8 - Ooo kidnapping and the sides are suffering betrayal. Also Tew kills again. I like that they don’t shy away from the fact that he’s a killer and Guy was genuinely scared. And then Tew had to break up with Guy to protect him in Noble Sacrifice (tm). How Cdrama of him. Rough ep all round.

For Him (Thurs iQIYI) ep 1 of 10 - It’s not exactly good, but it’s better than I was expecting, and I tend to cut pulps a lot of slack out the gate. The plot is more interesting, Him is a sweetie (I like that in a seme) and our uke has both game and pluck. He’s a femme bitch, I LOVE that in a boy + we never get it femme in the lead. The acting is not great, sound all over the place, but there are no terrible sound effects, the soundtrack is okay, and our high heat came with a side of BJ + condoms, and no one has sung (yet), so I think I like it. It’s giving me Big Dragon vibes.

Linguistic moment:

Him used Him/ter for pronouns & ha. Very flirty. Nail used rao back a little bit of a challenge. (No pom and didn’t use his own name either.) Gauntlet thrown. Our baby ends up with rao/kao but I don’t think that’ll stick. Him is getting Phi out of him if it's the last thing he does.

Bake Me Please (Mon Gaga) ep 2 of 6 - The characters’ shared backstory is no surprise but I do like this show. Those little private smiles as they find family. Those lingering gazes as they find romance. Lovely. Also Shin wants to marry into Peach's family so bad, I’m reminded of Laurie in Little Women. All that said, it’s never the top of my list to watch for some reason.

Cooking Crush (Sun YT) 1 of 12 - How could I have forgotten how stunning Off is? Meanwhile… I love Gun’s character, he's so cute. But this show is a bit too comedic for me. I wish GMMTV were taking this script seriously. Sorry Neo et al I’m not sold on the sides. In general? I don’t love it. I don’t hate it either. In other news, I think I'll go make toast.

Pit Babe (Fri iQIYI) ep 3 of 14 - I love the sides and unholy amount and in general it was fine this week probably because I decided to do a trash watch.

Twins the series (Fri GaGa) ep 5 of 10 - I’m getting fatigued. Also holy random sex Batman. Where did these extra sides come from? I’m confused. Tonal pingpong going on, and not just in the shower.

Middleman’s Love (Fri YT & iQIYI ep 4 of 8 - Finally a direct confession Jade can’t avoid. Will things get a bit more serious?

Absolute Zero (Weds iQIYI) ep 10 of 12 - I don’t know why I watch this show, the acting is great, but it just makes me cry.

Playboyy (Thurs Gaga) 3 of 14 eps - What a bonkers thing this is. Very kinky and also just odd. I do keep thinking about the pinks with it. Similarly, there doesn’t seem much glue holding this thing together, dried cum of course but not glue. And despite what some kinksters say, the one cannot replace the other.

My Universe (Sun iQIYI) Fake Love ep 15 of 24 - This is a weird installment. Too stalker and random blackmail for me. But not as bad as abuse and death, I guess?

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

A Breeze of Love (Korea iQIYI) eps 7-8fin - Not much of a love triangle in the end (you just found out he is actually gay and broken hearted = an opportunity not a tragedy). Meanwhile I like that the high school break up was just mr insomniac's fault. He got jealous and angry and petty. No miscommunication just an asshole kid. I did find this show a little slow, even though it was your standard length KBL. Odd that. They are very cute boyfriends tho.

All in all:

Tsundere insomniac grump reunited with his sunshine jock ex (human sleeping pill) who now hates him. Basketball is also involved. While the simplicity of a reunion plot makes this more cohesive than most KBLs, it is a tad stiff and slow, never managing to lift itself out of "pretty and pretty enjoyable" - I liked it but I don’t think I’m going to remember much about it. 8/10

VIP Only (Taiwan Fri Gaga) ep 3 of 10 - It has the feel of a one act, with such a limited cast and location, which reminds me of KBL. Still watching these two quietly fall in love and process affection through their own art forms is sweet. This is a very soft gentle show.

Sahara-sensei to Toki-kun (Japan Fri Gaga) - Toki, a delinquent but pure-hearted kid falls in love with his handsome phys-ed teacher, Sahara. This is very much my trope but very manga campy, which I don’t love. I’m quite torn. Toki is an idiot but a lovable one. But do I like it?

It's Airing But...

The Whisperer (Sun ????) 10 eps - Thai horror BL that ALSO involves cheating (what joy is mine). He has dimples (My Ride) but I don't think even dimples can motivate me to watch. You can tell me how this goes if you can find it.

SHADOW (Thai Gaga) 14 eps - I'm not wild about Thai horror (or horror at all) even one featuring Singto and Fluke. I'm holding off. If told it's good, I'll binge.

7 Days Before Valentine (Weds WeTV) 10 eps - Giving me Luminous Solution vibes, so I'm waiting to binge if told it's safe.

Beyond The Star (Weds iQIYI) 8 eps - House of Stars meets Boyband. I was NOT impressed with ep 1. Waiting to be told if I should bother.

What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 (Japan Gaga) 10 eps - I find this series more fun to binge, so I'm waiting until it completes its run.

In case you missed it

One Room Angel (Japan Gaga) finished. Adaptation of Harada’s manga (which I did not like) about a clerk who (nearly) dies and ends up cohabitating with an angel. I was warned that the ending would not work for me so I decided not to bother.

My Biker BL short movie from Wayu supposedly premiered Nov 27 on their YouTube Channel for Members to watch. I couldn't find anything further. The MDL description makes me think it's not for me so I bother.

Next Week Looks Like This

Short list of the December offerings.

12/9 Cherry Magic (Thai remake) YouTube 10 eps

12/9 Behind the Shadows (Korea movie) ??

12/14 Dear Kitakyushu (Thai/Japan movie) ??

12/23 Dead Friend Forever (Thai horror) iQIYI

Original 2023 forthcoming BL master post (see comments, some are inaccurate, NOT KEPT UPDATED). With the end of the year upon us I'll do an "announced for 2023 but never happened list" soon.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

I love these dudes so much, and make no mistake they def dudes. On point banter, my dudes. (Sign)

Yes they are cute but so far that's all this show has going for it. (Middleman's Love)

I'm a simple human, I just like seeing Off kneeing. (Cooking Crush)

(Last week)

#this week in bl #bl updates #A Breeze of Love reviewed #bl review #a breeze of love #korean bl #Last Twilight #Thai BL #My Dear Gangster Oppa #for him the series #gmmtv #cooking crush #offgun #off jumpol #Pit Babe the series #middleman's love #the sign the series

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thenickgirl · 5 days

Note

as a gay man myself i think it’s extremely fucking weird how the girls in this fandom act towards nick and equate everything to his sexuality saying shit like “he’s hot for a gay man” and that’s weird and wrong. but the way you act about him is also very weird. saying you’re “his wife” and you and nick are “besties” like Ermmm parasocial freakazoid alert

what’s crazy is you typing all of that thinking i was gonna give a fuck, that’s number one. number two i’ve never said “he’s hot for a gay guy” i said he’s fine as FUCK and that dick big, if you’re gonna quote me do it right, bitch! gay or not he’s still 100% attractive and im not blind. number three, never compare me to these unstable parasocial bitches, i’m not the they’re not me, i do not want nick and i’m not in a mental relationship with him. would i like to be friends with him? of course, who wouldn’t he’s fucking amazing! i’ve never once thought about being with him, you wanna know what i think about? nick getting back shots from a tall and sexy dread head that’s what goes through my mind. nick having a boyfriend that loves and cares about him, that’s what i’m thinking about. it’s all an act, it’s a running joke, i’m not actually tryna fuck him, nor do i want to be with him and it’s not my fault that you’re too slow to comprehend that what i say on here is just for fun, that’s your problem not mine. i’m a fan, and if i say that’s my man then that’s my man, if you wanna take me seriously then that’s on you. you fuckers love coming to berate nick girls like y’all don’t do the same exact shit about matt and chris. don’t speak on what we say if you’re not gonna talk about yourself. it’s amazing to me the way you come out of the fucking wood works when you see a woman say he’s ‘her bf’ or whatever, but where are you when he’s getting hate? where are you when he’s getting shit on by fans? where are you when people are making fun of him? SIRR??? exactly no where to be found, shut the absolute fuck up! me and gang (my mutuals) know exactly what’s going on here at my house, and you’re clearly spending way too much time in my business. don’t come to me with this shit again cause i genuinely do not care, your opinion means nothing to me. you’re not about to bully me out of being a nick girl because, YOU not us, wanna reduce him down to only his sexuality as if all he is is gay, “he’s only for the guys and gays” head ass, go fuck yourself immediately!

#nonnie 🎀#answered #sturniolo triplets #sturniolos #sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo

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ladykailitha · 1 year

Text

Do You Know What Shovels Dig? Graves Part 6

And this is it. The last part of a short little idea that kept me up all night that turned into this beautiful story that is one of my favorite stories I’ve written.

WIP Wednesday allowed me to finish this up for you before I went to bed. I got a job that I will be starting on Monday which will slow my writing down some, but I will still try to keep up on the stories I have. I love writing these stories for you guys and wish I could make it my job. But alas, capitalism.

Also this is for all the people that wished to see what the Corroded Coffin boys would say and for all the people that wanted to have Erica actually apologize. I was like “if you guys can get her to apologize, great, because I couldn’t!” But then I realized that there was someone who could get her to apologize. Robin. So here you go.

Thanks to that anon for the barbecue idea. That’s here too.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

After Max, Lucas, and Erica had gone, Steve sat with Eddie, El, and the Byers boys.

“I think all in all,” Eddie began, “those were some pretty good apologies.”

The other three nodded.

Steve sighed. “It doesn’t change the fact that it took an actual honest to god intervention to get them realize they were wrong.”

“No it doesn’t,” El said. “Which is why I told them that they’ve been grounded from Steve for two weeks.”

“Uh...” Eddie said, “what now?”

“It means,” Will explained. “That if they want to hang out with him they have to do on his terms, not theirs. No begging for rides, no stopping by for food and then bailing, and just no taking advantage of Steve.”

Steve blushed. “Thanks, guys. I mean it. It was nice knowing that there were people that weren’t going to threaten me and took this whole seriously.” He gave Jonathan’s knee a squeeze. “I’m not sure what would have happened if you hadn’t stopped by. But I’m really glad you did.”

Jonathan squeezed his shoulder in response. “Me, too. I hope they learned their lesson.”

“That is the hope,” Will said.

Steve scratched his cheek. “Why don’t we have barbecue at your guys’s place after the two weeks and see how they fair?”

Will brightened. “I like that idea. That way if they are still having problems we can talk to them about it.”

“Do you think your mom will go for it?” Eddie asked.

Jonathan grinned. “Hell yeah, she would. She’s been wanting to show off her new house to everyone for awhile now.”

El grinned too. “We have a plan, then!”

Steve was pleased to see that the Party actually started to make actual changes in how they treated him.

Lucas invited him out to play basketball at the rec center and biked himself there. Steve offered him a ride home after, which he happily took as they were both sweating afterwards.

Dustin made sure that Steve knew he was joking when he was making comments. And Steve made sure to snark right back unless it really bothered him and then they would talk about it.

Robin and he had a longer talk about the gay vs bisexual thing. She admitted that she had been wrong to assume that because Steve was bisexual that it would be Eddie getting his heartbroken and not Steve. She had some ingrained biases that she had to get over and was really sorry she didn’t have his back when he needed her to.

There were a lot of little changes but the final major change came a couple days after the intervention when Jeff, Gareth, and Brian all walked into Family Video together to properly apologize to Steve.

“Hey, Buckley,” Jeff said, “can you give us some space?”

Robin straightened her spine and wiggled her shoulders. “Steve has had apology monitors to ensure that it’s an actual apology, and as Eddie or Will or Jonathan aren’t here, it’s going to have to be me.”

Steve laughed and shook his head. “Apparently there are certain people who think I’m too nice,” he explained to the other boys, “and let people get away things that I shouldn’t so they took it upon themselves to be my guard dogs to make sure it’s an actual apology.”

“Have they met you?” Gareth asked, incredulous. “You’re the original bitch.”

Steve laughed again. “Who let Tommy and Carol walk all over me. I tend to roll over for friends.”

They blinked and then nodded.

“Yeah, okay,” Brian said. “That tracks.”

Steve just smiled. “So how can I help you fine gentleman today? May I interest you our latest releases?”

That got a couple chuckles out of them.

“No, man,” Jeff said, “we’re here to talk about the whole shovel talk shit.”

Steve leaned against the counter and folded his arms. “You do know I don’t fault you guys for that, right? You guys are Eddie’s best friends. I didn’t really fault Wayne, either. But the execution of that one...” he winced when Robin gasped. “Poor choice of words, sorry.”

“What he do?” Jeff asked.

“Borrowed Chief Hopper’s shotgun and cleaned while we talked,” Steve said with a grimace.

“That ain’t right...” Brian said, shaking his head.

Gareth looked at Jeff and then back to Steve. “Yeah, but here’s the thing about our shovel talk...”

“It wasn’t necessary,” Jeff finished for him. “We’ve had time to get to know you before you and Eddie started dating. We knew that you two would do anything for each other even without being a couple.”

Brian nodded. “It’s just...something we thought best friends did. The whole ‘break his heart, we’ll break your knees’ kind of thing.”

Robin looked down at her feet and cleared her throat.

Jeff sighed dramatically. “Please tell me she wasn’t one of the ones that gave you the shovel talk. Because that’s messed up, man.”

Steve looked over at her and then back up to Jeff. “Yeah, she knows.”

“By the way,” Gareth said, waving his hands, “Eddie doesn’t know we’re here. So I don’t want thinking this is a forced apology or anything.”

Steve raised his eyebrows. “Really?”

Brian cleared his throat. “I mean he did threaten to kill off our characters if we were mean to you, but he didn’t tell us to apologize or anything.”

Steve laughed. “That sounds more like the Eddie we all know and love.”

“But we would have come anyway,” Jeff said. “Because our shovel talk added to a heaping pile of bullshit that you didn’t need. And definitely didn’t deserve.”

“So this is us saying we’re sorry that everyone you knew decided that you were going to break Eddie’s heart,” Gareth said. “And that we made you feel like you weren’t worthy of dating Eddie. Because you are, man. Like seriously the only guy Eddie’s brought around that we actually want to be friends with.”

“Hell yeah,” Brian said. “You’re so cool and you love to take care everyone. We’d want you to stick around because we like you, too.”

Steve’s eyes blurred and he cleared his throat. “Thanks, guys. It means a lot to hear you say that.”

They all came up and gave Steve a hug, blocking him from outside viewers so he could cry. Once they were sure he was going to be okay, they let him go.

They said their goodbyes and walked out, leaving behind a stunned Robin and grateful Steve.

Just before the barbecue started Robin brought over Erica to Steve by holding her ear.

“Ow! Ow! Ow!” Erica was yelling as she was half dragged over to him.

Robin sat her down and said, “I learned that this little hobgoblin didn’t properly apologize for her shovel talk. And Eddie let her get away with it.”

“God, what’s your problem?” Erica huffed up at Robin. “They understood. Why can’t you?”

Robin grinned. “Green ooze, little girl. Green ooze.”

Erica’s jaw snapped shut. If Sherlock Holmes had his phrase for humbling him when he got too proud, this was Erica’s. She was going to drink it before it turned out to be acid. Like literal acid.

She turned to Steve. “Shovel talks aren’t right and no one should be giving anyone shovel talks because it’s a pointless exercise in latent hostility. So I’m sorry I contributed to an archaic practice used by bullies and abusers. I won’t do it ever again.”

Erica looked up at Robin, who gave her the thumbs up. Erica hopped up and ran off to play.

Steve blinked up at Robin in shock. “Like how the hell did you manage that?”

Robin just batted her eyelashes and said nothing, walking away with a whistle on her lips and a swagger in her step.

Eddie came up to him in shock. “Did I just witness an actual apology from Lady Applejack?”

Steve nodded mutely.

“I think I’m more afraid of Robin, now,” Eddie muttered and Steve could only agree.

Eddie was starting to see a trend. One that made him laugh the third time it happened.

The first, though? Claudia Henderson.

“Eddie!” she greeted warmly. “I haven’t seen you around much. How have you been?”

Eddie smiled at her. Even before the Upside Down, Claudia was one Eddie’s favorite people. She was bright and happy and loved her wacky son with all her heart. Something that Eddie could absolutely get behind. “I’ve just been busy. But name the date, and I’ll be there.”

She smiled back. “That’s sweet, dear. You know you have an open invitation. But why don’t you and your uncle come over for Sunday dinner. Steve has already said yes for himself.”

“Sounds great, Mrs Henderson,” Eddie agreed.

“How are you and Steve?” she asked gently. “Dusty was telling me that Steve hadn’t been doing well lately.”

“We’re good,” Eddie said bobbing his head. “Things got a little rough a couple weeks back, but we’re on firmer ground now.”

She patted his cheek. “You really need to be taking better care of that boy. He looks tough on the outside, but he needs someone who can take care of him, yeah?”

Eddie smiled. “Of course. Taking extra good care of our Stevie is my number one priority.”

She nodded and went to go make sure Dusty was eating enough.

The next one was Karen Wheeler of all people. Ted was suspiciously but expectedly absent. She came up to Eddie and introduced herself.

“You must be Eddie!” she said with smile that reminded him of that Dustin Hoffman film.

“Oh hello,” he replied a little confused.

“Nancy has told me all about you,” Karen said with that same smile. “She’s always going on about how Steve finally found the person he was meant to be with and what a great person you are.”

Eddie smiled back. “Nancy’s a great girl.”

She sighed a little, her smile turning into something a little more genuine. “I miss having Steve over. Jonathan is great boy for my Nance, but Steve sparkled where Jonathan only shines.”

“I won’t argue with you on that one,” Eddie said. “But then Jonathan isn’t my type.”

She swatted at him playfully. “All I’m trying to say if that Steve is a good boy and deserves only the best. So you’ll take good care of him, won’t you?” It was sweet and sincere, but a hint of steel. And suddenly Eddie knew where Nancy got her backbone of steel from.

“Always,” Eddie promised, hand over heart.

“See that you do,” Karen said and wandered off to compare brownie recipes with Joyce.

The third was a squirrelly looking balding guy with thick glasses and far too knowing stare. He had come with Chief Hopper and had spent most of the night watching Eddie. He had asked Nancy who he was and she said his name was Murray Bauman and he was a conspiracy theorist. Which really didn’t clear anything up for him, but this rag-tag group of rebels and fighters were all a little weird.

He wandered over to Eddie and looked him up and down. He said in a clear voice, “I have seen things you wouldn’t believe, I’ve done things that would make your hair curl on end,” he stopped for a moment, “make it curlier and I know where the bodies are hidden. If you hurt Steve, you’ll be the next one.”

“Murray!” Hopper yelled. “What the hell was that? Why would you say that?”

Murray blinked at Hopper and then tilted his head. “Because we love Steve?” He says long and slow like he’s talking to a stupid person.

Eddie burst out laughing.

“No, no,” he said between giggles. “It’s fine Hopper. It’s all fine!”

Murray looked him over again and then nodded. “Yes, you’ll do.” And then he wandered off back into the house as if he had done what he had come to do.

A few minutes later Steve came up and sat next to Eddie. “I’m sorry, I don’t even know what that was.”

Eddie giggled and bumped their shoulders together. “It’s fine, sweetheart. It’s actually kinda adorable.”

Steve frowned. “What is?”

“That it’s the moms plus Murray here,” Eddie said jerking his chin in the direction Murray had wandered off to, “that are the most protective of you. Both Mrs Wheeler and Henderson have told me under no certain terms am I allowed to hurt you and that I’m supposed to take care of you.”

Steve blinked and searched the crowd for Claudia first. She spotted him looking at her and she waved at him. Steve smiled and waved back. Then he searched for Karen. She didn’t look at him directly, but merely winked and went back to talking to Wayne about something he couldn’t quite hear.

“Oh.”

“But don’t you worry, darlin’,” Eddie purred. “I’m gonna take very good care of you.”

Steve kissed him, slow and deep. “And I will always take care of you, Eds.”

“Perfect.”

It really was.

***

Tag List: @justforthedead89 @zerokrox-blog @ihavekidneys @didntwant2come @thelittleclare @liorereshkigal @estrellami-1 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @telidina @stevesbipanic @paintsplatteredandimperfect @a-little-unsteddie @jonesn4coffee @resident-gay-bitch @obliosworld @croatoan-like-its-hot @evix-syne666 @emly03 @wonderland-girl143-blog @bookworm0690 @mysticcrownshipper @i-must-potato @pnk-lemonades

#My writing #stranger things #steddie #jonathan and steve are friends #ladykailtiha writes

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fuckinthewholetown · 2 months

Text

Fallingforyou - Matty Healy Chapter One

I’m kind of shitting myself posting this but, it is what it is. If you think it’s shit, feel free to tell me, but please be nice or I will cry. I’ve also only skimmed over this so if there’s any typos, please tell me so I can fix this.

Tags: Slight angst, swearing, mentions of religion, gay, probably bad writing

Word Count: 2309

As much as you love touring, you’re the first person to admit it can get repetitive. Wake up in a random hotel room, get to the venue, sound check, perform, and repeat.

However, today is different. Today you’re performing a sold out show at Wembley Stadium to 90,000 people. This is the day you’ve dreamt about since you were five, giving one woman performances to your parents in your living room. And the cherry on top is you get to do it with four of your best mates.

Your day starts off as normal, doing your skincare routine in a hotel bathroom in the heart of London. You’re living the dream. That is until you hear a knock at your door. As you’re walking over to answer it, you pull your hair out of the makeshift pony tail it was in previously. Before you could fully open the door, it barges open and your guitarist and best friend Maddie O’Connell storms into the room.

“We need to talk.” She says, pacing back and forth.

“Ok, calm down. There’s absolutely no reason to be this stressed. Take a crystal.” You say, pulling some green agate out of your bra. You’re met with no response, just a deadpan stare. “Noted, not in a crystals mood. What’s up, this is the best day of our careers, it must be something big to get you this stressed.”

“You have to look me in the eye and promise that you’re not going to freak out” She says, sitting down on a seat in the corner of the room.

“I promise. Unless you’re shagging Matty Healy or Harry Styles, then I revoke that promise”

“Not exactly… It’s Ross” She says, refusing to look you in the eye. You stay silent, internally freaking out but refusing to break the promise you made to her. She takes this as you not understanding what she’s on about “Ross Macdonald… The bassist of the”

“Yes, I know who you’re on about!” You say, cutting her off before she can say anything else and send you into even more of a mental breakdown. You stand up, now it’s your turn to pace the room. “You’re fucking the bassist of my favourite band and you just conveniently don’t tell me until 5 hours before the biggest show of our careers? I love you to death, but you need to get better timing babes”

“I know,” she says, still refusing to make eye contact with you, “and we’re not fucking. Well, we are but it’s more than that. I like him, and I think he likes me.”

“How long?”

“Six months…”

“Six months!” This information is enough to stop you in your tracks, “you’ve been shagging the human equivalent of Jesus for 6 months and you forgot to mention it!”

“I’m sorry! I knew you’d freak out because you’re a big fan and I wanted to make sure it was serious before I got your hopes up. However, I’ve kinda been forced into telling you.”

You sit back down, confused over her last statement. “What do you mean forced into telling me? If one of the girls is secretly a bitch and forcing you into this, we can become a group of four. I’m a big boy, I can sing and play an instrument at the same time.” That half joke is enough to make her finally make eye contact with you.

“It’s nothing like that, the girls don’t know yet you’re the first person I told. I’ve been forced into telling you because they’re coming tonight, all four of them are watching the show.” And that statement is the straw that broke the camels back, you’re officially freaking out.

“What? They’re watching us tonight? All four of them are watching us? Oh god, I have to look Matty Healy in the eyes knowing I’ve read the dirtiest tumblr fanfiction about him. I read one of him as a priest, oh god I’m going to hell!” You say, putting your head into your hands. Maddie on the other hand does not see the seriousness of this situation and bursts out laughing.

“Him as a priest? Didn’t strike you as the religious type.” A chuckle escapes your lips as you finally return the eye contact.

“I went to an all girls catholic school actually, I love Jesus.”

“You came out of that school with minor alcoholism and even more gay than you were when you went in, I think Jesus would be disappointed.” She quips back. You laugh, standing back up from your slight mental breakdown.

“I’m happy for you, I really am. When are they getting here?”

“Just before sound check.”

“Before sound check?” You respond, falling back into your mental breakdown. “That’s in less than an hour. I’m meeting my celebrity crush and your new fuck buddy in less than an hour? Get the fuck out, I need to do a full face in 20 minutes!”

You all but push her out the hotel room, scrambling to get ready for the biggest moment of your life.

After somehow managing to do your hair, makeup, and put on a hot ass outfit in under an hour, you walked into the green room at Wembley Stadium. What met your eyes was what could best be described as a sight out of 16 year olds you’s wet dream. All four members of The 1975 sat around the table, gossiping about who knows what. As you walk in, the room goes silent. Luckily, your bandmates are there to quell the awkwardness. The pianist of your band, Sienna Turner is the first to speak.

“Boys,” She says, standing up and dragging you by the forearm into the circle, “this is Y/N!” You were expecting to be met with blank stares, but instead the boys jump up to greet you, tackling you into bear hugs. It’s a warm welcome off everyone. Well, mostly everyone. The man you’ve loved since you were a teenager stays sat in the corner of the room, closed off and refusing to even acknowledge your existence. You figure it’s probably just him being an introvert, so you go over to introduce yourself personally.

“Hey.” You say, hoping for any kind of response. You don’t get one. No acknowledgement, no hey back, not even a snarky comment, he just ignores you. This is not how you imagined this day would go.

“Damn,” you follow up, “I knew you’re an Aries, but I didn’t think you’d act so much like one.” You let out a slight chuckle. He, on the other hand, does not find this so funny.

“Good God.” He responds, rolling his eyes and taking another sip of his drink.

He hates you. The man you’ve been enamored by for almost 10 years despises you. The only possible explanation is he’s seen your private TikTok reposts of endless thirst traps of himself. Nevertheless, you had a show to do. And if there’s on thing you can do despite external feelings, it’s fucking shit up on stage. You nail sound check, sounding better than you ever have. Probably a mix of adrenaline and frustration over the fact that your childhood crush seemingly hates you for absolutely no reason.

You exit stage after sound check, immediately going back to the green room to get ready for the actual show. As you’re getting your makeup and hair done, conversation flows. You and your friends are talking to the boys as if you’ve been friends for years and you didn’t just meet them an hour ago.

“So, Y/N. You’re into like crystals and shit aren’t you? What’s that like, I don’t really get it.” George says, turning all eyes on you.

“It’s not for everyone, but I find comfort in manifestation and things like that. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think incense will cure cancer but keeping rose quartz in my bra definitely isn’t going to hinder my love life.” You laugh, trying to keep your response brief.

“Bullshit.” Comes from the corner of the room. The first words you’ve heard from Matty since your brief conversation earlier in the day. The room falls silent and you feel a red hue cover your face. The longer the silence, the thicker the tension in the air. You clear your throat, trying to restrain yourself from going over to him and giving him a black eye.

“Like I said, it isn’t for everyone. I was cleansing my room once and my mum thought I was smoking weed. When I told her what I was doing, I think she’d have preferred if I was doing drugs.” Everyone starts laughing and the room erupts into conversation again as if nothing happened. Every so often, you catch a glimpse of Matty in the corner of your eye. He never seems to move, his phone in one hand and a beer in the other. As you zone out of the conversation, your mind moves to deciphering why on Earth he could hate you so much. Nothing comes to mind, you’ve never met him before and you’ve definitely said nothing bad about him publically. Quite the opposite in fact, as last year a drunk video of you singing Robbers went viral on TikTok.

You zoned out for so long, before you knew it it was time to go on stage and perform the biggest show of your life.

“Ok girlies!” Ava Fletcher, the drummer in your band and also the member you’ve known the longest, speaks up. “This is it. No pressure but there’s 90 thousand people out there who’ve come specifically to watch us, so if we put on a shit performance our careers are probably over. But absolutely no pressure, just have a good show.” You laugh, leaning into the group hug you do before every show however this one felt different. The sense of adrenaline and fear within the group was unlike anything before. There was a lot riding on this show, and if you fucked it up a lot of people would be disappointed. However, all of these feelings are washed away when you’re wrapped into a hug by George.

“Blow their fucking minds out their.” He whispers into your ear. All feelings of nervousness are washed away when you realise you’re being hugged by the drummer of your favourite band. You go around, being given motivational speeches by every member of the band. Well, almost every member other than, you guessed it, Matty. He encouraged every member of your band except you, walking off before you could get to him.

The beginning of every show is always the worst. Hearing the roaring crowds increases your heart rate tenfold, but the stakes are even higher for this show. With one last group hug, you put your in ears in and run on stage, ready to start the show. As the show goes on, you occasionally glance side of stage to where the boys are standing. Everytime you make eye contact with them, they give you an encouraging smile or thumbs up. Matty on the other hand continues to evade eye contact, choosing to watch a different member of the band. However that didn’t stop you from putting on one hell of a show, and that’s what you did. You blew the metaphorical roof of that stadium, it was arguably the best show you ever did. The adrenaline high you had once you ran off stage couldn’t be ruined, even by a moody former celebrity crush.

The moment you exit stage, you’re immediately crushed by a massive group hug involving your band and the boys. Despite all of this, the only thing you can focus on is the hand around your waist. It’s Matty. You don’t think he meant it, instinctively putting it there when he was dragged into the hug. Nonetheless the area he was holding felt like it was burning under his touch, his calloused hands leaving marks on the skin underneath them. The group hug is cut short when he pulls away, clearing his throat slightly and going back to cradling his drink.

You do the rounds, talking to everyone backstage and discussing the nuances of the show and how amazing the audience were. This repetitive conversation continues until you get back around to him. You expect to be met with no eye contact, maybe an eye roll if you were lucky, but what happens next surprises you.

“You did alright out there, Princess.” The confusion on your face is palpable, at both the nickname and his sudden talkative nature. “Princess, like Princess Kida from The Lost City of Atlantis. It’s funny because,” you cut him off.

“Our band name is Lost Atlantis, yeah I get it. It’s funny.” You respond, a dead pan expression on your face. The tension was obvious, you could cut it with a knife. That is until Moon Dixon, your bassist, comes up behind you and wraps you in a hug.

“We’re all going back to Maddie's place to have a few drinks, you joining us?” She says, mostly to you but including Matty in the conversation as well.

“Yeah, let me get into something less sweaty and gross first though.” You laugh, trying to hide your disappointment as he walks off to join the rest of his band.

Get over yourself, you thought to yourself as you walked back up to your dressing room. Just because Mattys a dick doesn’t take away from the fact that this is the best day of your life. You just performed your biggest show ever, and three out of the four members are lovely. But despite this, you can’t get the curly haired man out of your mind. You see him every time you blink. How have you gone from badass pop girlie to pathetic simp in the space of three hours?

Chapter Two

#matty healy #ross macdonald #george daniel #adam hann #matty healy fic #matty healy fanfiction #Matty Healy fanfic #matty healy x reader

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smellss · 8 months

Text

collide - Sam Kerr x singer! reader social media au!

summary: Final Part to the nudged series

A/N: i’ve really enjoyed this series i hope you enjoy the last part

liked by samanthakerr20, baby/n, masiepeters and 1,680,789 others

y/noffical: a series of event since finding out this news, thank you @taylorswift for trusting me with your baby!guess i have two reasons now to stay in aus ❤️ #TheErasTour

taylorswift: it’s my honour 💜

masiepeters: THATS MY GIRL

alannahkennedy: congratulations girlie

baby/n: omg i’m so proud and EXCITED TO SEE MY GIRL ON THE BIG STAGE

mummy/n: mmm also two reasons what’s the first @y/n mmmm

zendaya: couldn’t think of someone more deserving SO EXCITED

samanthakerr20: so proud my girl ❤️

katrinagorry: our girl ma’am

samsleftboot: this is so girlfriends coded and i love it

baby/n: mums supporting mums out here

mummy/n: i think we can finally confirm this and i am HERE a for it

liked by y/noffical, katrinagorry, and 1,204,001 others

samanthakerr20: we’ll cats out of the bag thought i’d claim shes mine @y/nofficial 😏

matalidas: captain making goals on and off the field

mackenziearnold: on ya skipper

katherinegorry: i just want everyone to know i facilitated this

baby/n: YES MAAM I CANNOT BREATH

mummy/n: i retract my statement THIS IS A LAUNCH

masiepeters: very nice kerr

thegoodwitxh67: bestie approves we can only support

user456: i agree wholeheartedly

y/nofficial: oh you big sook

samanthakerr20: oh you love it

y/noffical: took you long enough sweetheart

liked by alannahkerrfav, masiepeters, zendaya and 1,290,670

y/noffical: my girls playing against france today LETS GO TILLIES 💚💛

zendaya: double dates very soon my girl 🫶

y/noffical: oh wait till we get back to the uk you won’t be able to get rid of me x

tomholland13: we’ll see how our matches go first #lionessesforthewin

samanthakerr20: ouch tom.

tomholland13: @samanthakerr20 ha ha go chelsea i can agree on

alannahkennedy: excuse me where is my special good luck post

mackenziearnold: and mine

katrinagorry: and mine

y/noffical: guys i feel ganged up on i promise i will show my love and appreciation to you later x

samanthakerr20 : and mine

y/noffical: bro what are you on

samanthakerr20: i didn’t want to feel left out

baby/n: mums are mumming and i am loving all the content

liked by katrinagorry, y/noffical and 50,678 others

alannahkennedy: was taking this cute photo of me and bean but these rands interrupted it smh

y/noffical and samanthakerr20 tagged

y/nunoffical: omggggggggg gay gay gay

samanthakerr20: @y/noffical you’re blocking my good side sweetness

y/noffical: i think you’ll find you’re eating my face

samanthakerr20: roasted 🔥🔥🔥

y/nbaby: seriously now come on get a room but also don’t…

samsleftboot: alannah absolutely dropping this bomb is so on brand

matildas: we love this for them 🫶

#sam kerr imagine #sam kerr x reader #fanfic #sam kerr fanction #samantha kerr #social media au #wlw #fire lord zuko #alta

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dayangaytransman · 1 month

Text

Warnings: Transphobia, sexism, misandry, bad therapist and Bear dudes ( jokingly)

In my country, there are no gender therapists, and the psychologists not only refuse to help with transitioning, but also, due to the laws and other issues, often persuade individuals against transitioning.

It was two years ago, and my mother was worried about me. She thought I was mentally ill because I wanted to be a boy. So, she decided to take me to a therapist/psychologist. I’m not sure which one that person was. Anyway.

It was my first time visiting any kind of therapist. I was very nervous. However, because my mom had told me that the therapist, an old cis woman, had experience working with transgender individuals, I wasn’t worried about it. I was mistaken.

So we went to her office and sat down. She asked my mother to leave, and then we were alone.

She was trying to be kind at first. This is a little bit of our conversation:

- Hi, what should I call you? What gender are you?

Me, living in a binary society, dressing as a boy, acting like a boy, and my mother just told her that I want to be a boy : Just call me Dayan, and I am a boy.

Then she asked questions because she was not sure what that meant.

I told her: But they said you have worked with trans people before

She said: No, not really. It was just one person and not even like you. (That was a trans woman.)

Yeah, she told people she is trans-friendly to make money. Anyway, we talked more, and then, suddenly, she got angry.

She said: Why do you want to be a man?! Men are ugly! They are as hairy as gorillas! They smell bad! They are always horny! They are rapists! They are garbage!

I was in shock. I had never heard that shit before, and she was a fucking therapist! I thought therapists were smart! What the hell was that?! She hates all men?!

I am gay, and at the time, I had a crush on a bear dude (he is my BF now), and the things she said made me so angry and upset.

Also, don’t worry, ma’am, I am not going to transition into your husband!

Do you think she was a queen herself? No! She was an ugly old lady who doesn’t know how to dress!

After she said that, I became the therapist! That woman certainly needs one. I told her not to hate all men and that hairy, horny dudes are okay. But if they smell bad and rape people, that’s not okay. I taught her to be respectful and also educated her about trans and non-binary individuals. I was talking for about 3 hours!

Seriously, I was the therapist. Then the lady told my mother that I am okay and not mentally ill. Yes, that’s obvious, bitch. And she took an amount of money equivalent to three days of my mother’s work from us for just three hours. Sure, she did help a little, but it was me acting as a therapist for her the entire time!

I am worried about her male clients and the men in her life. Also, what are you going to tell your transfeminine clients? To not be like you,bitch?

#lgbt #lgbtq #lgbtqia #lgbtq community #transgender #transmasc #trans man #trans #transguy #therapist #bad therapy #misandry #sexism #gay bear #this is my real life #she was a bitch

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nonotnolan · 1 year

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Soul Stones: The Easy Life

“Jordan-- I mean, Alfie-- what are you doing here?” It was weird seeing my roommate’s body on the couch, playing videos games. It had only been a few days since my roommate somehow swapped bodies with one of the team’s official tutors, and I was still struggling to get his name right. "Do you think being an athlete is easy? Just because Football season’s over, it doesn’t mean you get to slack off! I thought you were going to the gym today?”

He responded by rolling his eyes at me. “I did, okay? I drank the stupid shake, and I lifted weights for... I dunno, fifteen minutes. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m in the middle of a round?”

“No, you’re not excused!” I grabbed the remote, shut off the TV, and threw the remote back onto the couch. “What happens when Jordan gets his body back, but he loses his spot on First String Defense because you’re too busy playing fuckin’ Fall Guys, of all games?”

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and started talking to me without making eye contact. Dunno if he was too nervous to make eye contact with me, or what, but since the real Jordan would have been up close and in my face yelling at me, it really hit home that I was dealing with a different person. “Look, Tanner... I’m doing my best, okay? I don’t know what I’m doing! I don’t know how to gain muscle-- how many reps, how much weight, what routine, which foods? I’m an Engineering student. I don’t know the first thing about Health Science, and I can’t even ask for help because no one will take me seriously when I look like this! Also, in case you had forgotten, I’m not the one who absconded with someone else’s body.”

“I... Alfie, I’m sorry.” I had to admit, he had a point. I just assumed he would know enough about fitness to keep Jordan’s body in shape, but... why would he? Alfie was a super skinny dude. “Look, what if... I’m done with classes today, right? What if we both go to the gym? Everyone will think we’re just two bros talkin’ gym talk, and I can teach you what you need to know. Sound good?”

A wave of relief washed over him. “I would really appreciate that,” he said, smiling at me. “It actually seems kinda fitting. With as much tutoring as you’ve gotten from me, it feels a bit like a trade.”

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

The proofs from my first professional photoshoot were back, and I was loving the results. In my old life, the only time anyone ever wanted to photograph me, it was for the football team. Massive shoulders, threatening posture, harsh expressions, deep shadows... everything I hated about masculinity. But here? Here I was slender, stylish... and handsome. Cute, even.

All I ever wanted was to make people happy. Growing up in the Texas suburbs as I did, that meant playing football. By the time I figured out the difference between what I wanted and what others wanted for me, I was already 200 pounds of solid muscle. And once I figured out that I was also a gay man? Well, I didn’t see the point in getting disowned by all of my friends and family until after I had a steady career to my name.

So when the weirdo at the antique store told me about the body swapping stones, I couldn’t help but daydream about being someone else. I mean, of course I was skeptical... but they were only $5. Honestly, I had forgotten they were even sitting on my desk until Alfie asked me about them. Tanner’s Chemistry mid-term was the next day, so Alfie was in our room, trying to give him a crash course on the five weeks of material he’d skipped.

I just told him they were paperweights, of course-- who’s dumb enough to believe in magic? But when he picked one up and started tracing the grooved carvings with his thumb, well... maybe I was dumb enough to believe. I hadn’t told anyone else about them, so if they didn’t work, no one would have any reason to laugh at me. But if they did work... if there was even a chance... this was my moment. I took a deep breath, and pressed my index finger onto the polished agate. By the time Alfie realized he was no longer sitting next to Tanner, I had grabbed the other stone off of my desk and ran out of the room.

I don’t even feel guilty about it, to be honest. We had followed each other on Instagram back at the start of the year, so I’ve been able to use that to spy on Alfie as he lives my old life. That is not the face of someone who is unhappy with the way things shook out. He’s even managed to bag a girlfriend so, like... good for him. I wish him the best. It’s the least I can do for stealing his life.

As for me? Well, I really hadn’t thought too far ahead-- honestly, I’d kept the stones in case I needed a safety net-- but it turns out that Alfie’s parents are crazy loaded and crazy supportive. When I told them I was thinking about changing majors to something in the Fine Arts, they didn’t even blink. Hell, they bought me a new apartment downtown, and offered to pay for the transfer to a different college next semester.

I think I might still take some business courses, just in case I need to fall back on something a bit more dependable, but... in the meantime, I’ve been trying to pursue both modeling and photography. Maybe I’ll hit it big, maybe I won’t... but for once in my life I’m setting aside the grindstone and putting my happiness first.

#male body swap #male body theft #gay body swap #after the swap #jock to nerd #muscle jock #soul stones

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whiskersz · 3 months

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HELLOO you Definitely don't know me ;) ...but I'll still wish you luck for all the matchups <3

My name's Alexander, I go by they/them and at times he/him, I'm gay and on the ace spectrum!

I'm a pretty chill person that oscillates between too much energy and too little. I rely heavily on humor in most circumstances and I've been told I'm great at it (loads of dirty jokes, puns and absurd humor). I'm also good at improvising things as a theater and musical enjoyer. I'm a blend of emo, goth and punk, and enjoy the culture greatly. I'm very passionate about my interests, though not much confident in sharing them. I struggle with emotions a shit ton but I'm working on it!

A little (orange) birdie told me I could have both matchups, soooo. ;) I'd obviously prefer a male romantic matchup but I'm most open to either for platonic!

I love creating, mostly drawing and writing but it includes animating or sculpting and even playing piano/elec. guitar. I love chess and logic games/puzzles, as well as video games of all kinds (fantasy usually!). I also enjoy darker topics, since I'm quite fascinated by the human nature.

I love to hang out with friends, bake, watch shows, talk, etc, quality time is a big love language to me. I also like physical contact, as long as we're close!

I dislike physical activity, conflict of any kind, and loud noises/bright lights for too long. Another no are outright gore or some kind of horror (I have paranoia which can lead to a lot of anxiety.)

I don't exactly have an ideal type but they must be open-minded, ideally make me feel like they're interested in whatever I have to say, be willing to hang out and be honest!

Thank you for doing this, sending lots of love from the coolest bat in your area ;)

Hmm I wonder who this could be... ;3 As I was reading this I kept nodding to myself...like yes, very true, definitely! And it also reminded me of how intriguing of a person you are – not that I don’t think that all the time, of course.

Anyhow, enough of my silliness! Let’s move our focus on somebody else’s silliness, as I romantically match you with...

Lucifer!

Right off the bat I should mention that you and Lucifer share an interest which is creating; both of you spend the majority of your days bringing life to your little creations, so imagine how fun it would be to work together and show each other the fruits of your work at the end of each day! He is definitely enchanted by how many skills you possess, but his favorite thing is when you finish writing a story and you ask him to read it. He does so out loud, imitating the voices of each character and making you laugh by doing so. As he continues reading though, his tone shifts into a more serious one, a sincere smile remaining on his face. He doesn’t want you to think that he doesn’t take your work seriously, plus he’s genuinely fascinated by how easily you can bring to life the characters in your stories.

You love baking and he loves sweets, I couldn’t think of a better combo! Many a times you drag him into the kitchen and he follows diligently, ready to help and possibly make a bit of a mess as he’s not the most well versed in these kinds of activities. But! He definitely tries for you, passing you the ingredients as you carefully try to follow every step of the recipe correctly. He’s also a bit of a chatter box himself, so rest assured you will have a lot to talk about as you break eggs and mix the ingredients! He sometimes brings up how he misses doing these things with Charlie as well, and you kindly remind him that he’s free to invite her over to do this any time as you’ve grown quite fond of her as a friend.

Returning on the topic of Lucifer being quite talkative, he really appreciates how much your interests vary as this allows you two to have conversations about anything and everything. While I feel like some things he wouldn’t be into himself, such as video games, there’s nothing that he loves more than to listen to you excitedly talk about an interest that he’s not really familiar with, because this just means that there’s more things to learn directly from you. You of course have to do your part in listening to him talk about whatever he might be into but you’re not, though!

Lucifer adores the fact that you can play the piano and electric guitar, as he’s able to play some instruments himself! It’s not rare for you two to play together, making up songs between piano keys being pressed and bows being drawn across the strings of his fiddle. The little concerts last for hours, and they always end with you sharing a tired but satisfied kiss with each other.

If there’s something that Lucifer understands about you it’s your struggle with emotions; his own are a mess, especially seeing that he struggled with isolation and depression after he and Lilith separated, but also because his humour is generally a little unpredictable. After meeting you though he’s able to pace himself slightly as you inevitably bring joy into his life, and so he manages to be helpful in your times of need. At first he might push you a little to still spend time together even though you’re claiming you need space, but once he’s got you figured out he’s going to give you all the space that you need and let you come back to him at the end of the day, offering you a warm embrace by wrapping you up protectively with his wings. And then, with a little pun here and a light joke there, he’s going to get a smile out of you again.

Speaking of hugs, he absolutely adores them. Getting to be lazy with you and cuddling is one of his favorite activities, as it also means not having to look after the obnoxious residents of Hell for a while. Rest assured he’s going to ask for five more minutes of cuddling with you every single morning, and if you don’t give them to him he’s definitely going to get pouty.

All things considered, Lucifer is glad he’s not alone anymore, instead he found great company in you and he appreciates all the love that you decide to show him in your unique ways. He’s of course more than willing to shower you in affection, and though he might go a little overboard sometimes, being a bit dramatic and all, you know he means well and you don’t get actually mad at him.

Platonic matchup

Now that you’ve gotten your lover, let’s move on to your platonic matchup!

Alastor!

First of all this came as a surprise to me as well, as Lucifer and Alastor don’t seem to get along very well, but allow me to demonstrate why you would get along with both!

Alastor values good manners, cordiality and intelligence a lot in others, which you all possess, in my opinion. He’s fascinated by your mannerisms just as much as you are by his, and admires the fact that you seem to have many skills. Some of them he might even take part in himself, such as playing chess and delving into darker topics. This would lead you to spending quite some time together, discussing such topics over a chess board.

The friendship between you and Alastor could be seen as unusual by most other people, but in reality it’s based on a very deep trust. You both trust each other to not cross boundaries; you don’t like physical touch from somebody who isn’t close? He’s going to respect that, he’s actually just the same. He’s not the biggest fan of sexual remarks? Sure, you’re going to be relying on other jokes, primarily puns as he seems to be a big enjoyer of those.

You and Alastor enjoy the occasional planned hang out with each other, usually opting for recitals and musicals as you both enjoy those a lot. You respect each other’s wish to quietly follow the play but at the end of it you’re very eager to have an open discussion about it.

Alastor, as the good friend that he is, also tries his best to take care of any kind of conflict that may arise while you’re together for you. Will you have to hold him back from doing anything too crazy? Sure, most of the time a little scare is enough...

He’s also pretty closed off with his own emotions, so a positive thing is that he’s never going to push you to talk about things, even in general. He does worry though, you’re his dear friend, and his way of showing it is by tolerating more than he would usually. May that be a short hug or whatever you might need from him to feel better, he’s willing to make an effort to provide it to you.

Hi! I hope you enjoyed; I made the platonic matchup a little bit shorter, I hope that’s alright, if not I can give you some more headcanons...I don’t mind at all! Tell me what you think, love you <3

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin x reader #x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel matchup #hazbin hotel matchups #hazbin matchup #matchup #matchups #lucifer x reader #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar #alastor x reader #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #lucifer hazbin hotel

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