something something something elijah mikaelson goes absolutely insane when you two are getting ready together something something something he jumps your bones something something something
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i’ve said it before on my other account and i’ll say it again on this one: in my soul, warren kenneth worthington iii has the world’s best poker face but his wings give him away every time. he’s excited? feathers flare. he’s pissed off? feathers are flaring again but in a slightly different way. if you know shit about warren (or just about birds) then you can tell immediately what he’s thinking just by glancing at his wings.
haven’t been super active on here lately but just a friendly reminder that jk rowling actively uses HP funds to harm the trans community.
its not just rhetoric (which even if it was, that’s still not something I’d feel comfortable endorsing). she spends that money to push and pass legislative campaigns against trans people, specifically trans women.
if you watch the new series or play the games or otherwise give her money, she is going to use it to harm real people. you will be harming real people in real life. there is no “oh i didn’t know” because now you do know.
you cannot say “oh well I didn’t give the money to hurt people, I just gave it to her” because since you now know what she uses the money for, you are knowingly deciding to give money to a woman who has told you time and time again what she will use it for.
just a psa as the new HP series picks up momentum.
a list of some of her transphobic rhetoric and instances in which she specifically targets trans women/goes out of her way to harm them
her organization that uses women’s rights as an excuse to diminish and harm transgender people people
the 70k (88k usd) she donated to ensuring trans women are not legally classified as women
content: long distance relationships are hard. interdimensional relationships are harder. it’s short and rushed bc there was a tornado while writing this. f slur used once but not negatively.
day four of cher's shades of love series!!
A frown on your lips wasn't an uncommon sight. Especially not after Hobie had just left.
Truth be told (and it was a very simple one): you just missed your boyfriend.
Whoever had said long distance relationships weren't that hard had clearly never tried dating a fellow Spider-Man from a different dimension. Between your busy schedule and his- not to mention the apparent time difference between your world and his, there was very little time for you to actually see your boyfriend outside of your respective Spider Society duties.
And quite honestly, to reiterate your point, you missed your boyfriend.
You missed his smart mouth. You missed his stupidly smart brain. You missed his laugh and his dumb jokes. You missed the way he rambled and the way he couldn’t hold a single train of thought when he was high. You missed all of him.
You missed him so much it ached. And of course it would be your luck, that you’d fall for the one man who you couldn’t even see more than once a week at most. And sometimes it made you just want to-
“Hey, earth to webhead.” Gwen waves her hand in front of your face, “You’re moping again.”
“I’ll have you know it’s not moping, it’s pining.” You groan, “Gay, faggy pining.”
“I’m not making you have a conversation with me, you know that, right?” She snorts.
“Doesn’t matter. He’s at band practice right now anyway.”
“You know his schedule?”
“I’d be a shit boyfriend if I didn’t, he’s been talking about it all week.”
The rest of the conversation passes by easily enough, topics changing a few times before you have to head back to your universe for patrol.
Patrol is easy, it’s routine. It’s a boring night.
So boring that you decide to donate some of your crime to the other vigilantes of your city, letting them stop the limited crimes.
When you climb into your window though, you’re not expecting to see your boyfriend, laying on your couch and fiddling with some device.
Before you can form the words, he’s already looking up, “You’re home early.”
“Slow night.” You hum, shrugging out of your suit and down to your boxers, “Figured I’d let the other vigilantes handle it. It’s almost graveyard shift anyway- that’s Castle’s job.”
Hobie raises a brow, observing absentmindedly as you search through your drawers for some fresh clothes, “Fair ‘nough.”
“How’d practice go?” You ask, headed to the bathroom with your clothes, but leaving the door open so you can hear him.
“Not wash night, is it?”
“Nah. City’s just extra grimy lately. Just doin’ a quick rinse.”
Hobie hums an acknowledgment, then adds with a snort, “Wasn’t gonna say anything, but you reeked, bug.”
“Did not.”
“Mhmm. Did so. Could smell you all the way in 138.”
“Fuck off.” You bark a laugh out.
“Yeah, yeah.”
You can’t see it, but you know he’s flipping you off. It’s a lesser known aspect of the spider sense- or maybe it’s just a Hobie-sense.
You’re in your boyfriend’s arms within minutes, laying against his chest. He’s humming a tune absentmindedly, drumming a beat on your skin. Occasionally you tilt your head further back to press kisses to his skin.
He’s back to fiddling with whatever device he’d brought earlier, you’ve got some nail polish out. You’re not talking much, but it’s comfortable. And Hobie brings a certain noise even without talking- it’s a comfort not having to deal with the quiet, you’ve found.
Because Hobie and quiet aren’t two words that go well together. He can be, but he seldom chooses to be. Even now, without words, he’s not quiet.
