#I'm never going to actually be attractive

[holmoris]

consider not posting selfies at all actually esp if you're a minor

Yeah this can't be overstated. One of my highschool classmates had a sister who managed to attract an actual out-of-state stalker at (iirc) 11 years old over G-rated myspace photos. The police were involved. This was in 2003-2005ish too. This has been going on a LONG time and has gotten way worse since then.

Also if you're posting any form of photo even if you're not in it, never post the image directly from your camera. Photos have a data structure called exif tags that work very similar to ID3 tags on mp3s, and one that almost every phone writes is the gps coordinates the photo was taken. Great way to give away where you are down to 500 or so feet. I'm pretty sure all social media sites strip exif nowdays (anything that resizes the image like tumblr/facebook definitely does, imgur DID NOT at one point but I'm not sure about now) so this is mostly an issue if you're posting images on a site you host somehow.

minor tumblr user's carrd: over 25 dni!!

25 year old who was going to prey on this minor: oh damn 😔 here I was planning to groom them but i can't because of their dni 😔 what a shame 😔😔😔😔😔

[lukyan-chan-blog]

DP x DC Prompt Your children will die young.

Bruce thinks he's cursed, actually he's not, although he might as well be. Biological half-brothers Danny, Damian and surprise, there are three more!

it's my first post, I never learned how to use this but the ideas don't come out of my head and there's no one to talk to about this so I'm sorry for spouting my delusions and English is not my native language (I don't follow the cannon, I don't know, I don't know what it is, I'm going to ignore it, it scares me but I did see DP although I don't think it counts for much, honestly)

Batman is spiraling after a powerful trio of siblings join the Justice League. They attract attention with their bright, exotic and painfully young (terribly powerful) appearance.

Since he has discovered that he is most likely the biological father. He doesn't know how to tell them this, or that maybe all three of them died from a curse he deliberately ignored for years. He wants to obtain DNA samples but since they are now ghosts it is not likely that they will leave DNA that he can take for paternity tests.

Do all three have the same biological mother? They are identical! (Maybe they could be clones?) Should I search and desecrate their graves? Will they notice? Were they even buried? Did anyone cry for them? Did they have a funeral? Were they cremated? Did an illness, an accident or a murder kill them? (How can I not ask all that? I need answers!)

Every time he and his family look at them, they can only cry inside and become distraught.

Your children are dead! He has to break this curse, apologize and bring them home! They are children, so young!

(When Flash asked how Phantom was the oldest of the three if Wraith appears fully grown with his height and large muscles, it ended in some tears from the speedster, causing much of the nearby team to become depressed)

Meanwhile the trio of ghosts:

Phantom (heavy fighter like Superman and Captain Marvel), Wraith (diplomat who spends time with the GL in space), and Shade (infiltration and caos) try to avoid Batman by pretending they don't know anything.

Then Bruce has his moment of crazy nights before leaving university, an "ex-girlfriend" - a woman he dated only twice becomes obsessed with him - Bruce obviously becomes gets rid of her easily

(we just went out for coffee and lunch, I didn't even know it was supposed to be a date.)

When Bruce rejects her, she swears that she comes from a line of witches and will curse him, if he doesn't marry her all his children will die. Bruce still checks it, but what he finds is just a story of three generations of eccentric women, so he ignores it and moves on with his life.

During another one night stand, his anonymous date gets pregnant and since she doesn't really remember much, she doesn't go looking for him either. This woman doesn't want to keep the baby and the doctor treating her actually needed a baby to pass as hers. Sheila takes this baby that she wants to tie Willis up with, but Willis already married Catherine. She leaves this baby "Jason Todd" with Willis as revenge.

Fast forward a few years later, Bruce has another crazy night with a couple.The Fentons have no problem having this baby and forget to call Bruce.

Years later Damian Wayne introduces himself as his only blood son, he becomes Robin.

Damián, now 17 years old, gets along well with a new heroine who is the youngest of a new trio that has joined the Justice League. The trio of siblings leave a bittersweet and painful feeling to the league because they are dead children.

Danny “Phantom”- 14 years old

Dante “Wraith” - 13 years old

Ellie “Shade”- 12 years old

One day they want to go to eat at this new restaurant in Gotham but although Robin can buy food with the suit they would attract a lot of attention with Shade giving off her supernatural glow, Ellie tells him that he can take a normal living human form and thus go out to eat. Once everything is agreed, on a nearby roof, Ellie returns to her human appearance and Damian realizes that they are terribly similar, very similar! He asks her if that's really what she looks like in life and she says yes

(Ellie doesn't really notice)

During the disturbing dinner on the roof, Damian asks him about his other two brothers.

"oh them? Wraith is actually my completely biological brother, our mother was really crazy and we ended up like this, you know? Phantom is our older half-brother, ever since he found out about our existence he has been tormenting our mother even more for what she did to us"

Damian is secretly going crazy but keeps asking.

"Phantom has been dead for longer, he doesn't usually change his living appearance much although sometimes he does, Wraith looks older just because he really felt very bad being so young and I don't have problems with how I look, although in reality I'm a little older than you"

(Ellie is actually lying a little for Danny's peace of mind, she sticks to her false story) Ellie even shows him a photo of her brothers looking alive. Damian is looking at a photo of three people who look a lot like his father, him, and for some reason Todd.

Damian returns to the mansion looking for old photos of Todd (because they look so similar too?!) and spiraling because the three new members could be his dead half-Siblings.

The batfamily finds out about Damian's conspiracy theory and panics. After some analysis they discover that Jason is in fact Bruce's biological son

(Jason feels cheated because Sheila was not his mother either and died in his attempt to meet/save her and because he has Bruce as his father)

Tim "actually they all died young, Shade at 12, Wraith 13, Phantom 14, Jason 15 and Damian died for a while at 16, that means that Bruce's next child has to die at 11 or 17"

Bruce…..

Tim "although if you think about it, most of us here also died at some point, only for a very short time unlike Jason and Damian"

Bruce, in a mental breakdown over his possible children and his dead children.

Phantom, who was floating invisible was about to ask Jason if he wanted to hang out, hears the conspiracy and runs to ask Jazz. (Jazz says yes, his parents had a threesome with some young millionaire they forgot to call and then lost his number)

Danny, who has been escaping for years from being adopted by Vlad, refuses to be adopted by another millionaire guy who also seems like a different kind of vampire.

(it's funny because Batman could pass for a vampire and Vlad also looks like a vampire, they both wear capes, they have a secret basement and they both want to adopt some boy with black hair and blue eyes)

From here on it's nonsense and a lot of misunderstandings because:

Danny and company don't want to be adopted or reveal themselves or explain the issue of clones or because Dan has a 13-year-old human body but is from another timeline.

The Batfamily wants to hunt down these kids to bring them home, find out if the apparent crazy mother is in prison for killing her two children, where is Phantom's mother? Was he also murdered? Because his casual comments about his parents seem to understand that this is the case.

Tim again notices the pattern that all the children have died for their "parents" or relatives.

Bruce has another nervous breakdown.

Dick cries for his poor dead brothers.

Jason blames all of this on Bruce and is still confused.

Damian doesn't know how to feel about not being the only blood child or that apparently he and Todd were lucky enough to get back.

Steph wonders if her dying minutes count her as Bruce's daughter.

Cass is sad ):

Duke doesn't know if he wants to stay in this family.

Alfred has had enough for this week

[stevesgother]

hi lovely! i have some requests from one taurus to another 😽😽

if we could combine the stop flirting with me/ i can’t i like seeing you get flustered and 16 from the smut prompts (the sunscreen one) that would be so amazing of you

maybe reader is robins friend who’s got it bad for steve (and the feeling is mutual) but they’re both being idiots about it and steve finally invites her over to the pool to listen to music or something, or maybe they’re on a group trip idk you decide

MWAH thank you and happy birthday 🩷🧁

ok i've finally gotten around to this and i'm so excited MDNI! fem!reader, smut, piv, bathroom sex, language, cocky!steve a little bit bc he knows he's your crush and he loves it

sex on fire

"Is he going to be there?" You ask hopefully. Pathetically.

Robin points out as much, "Oh my god, you're actually pathetic,"

See, Robin Buckley has two best friends-- whom she loves very much-- but God, they will not stop talking about each other to her. She has to physically swallow down the bile that rises in her throat at the mental image of the two of you bumping uglies nearly every day.

"He's going to be there, but--" she sees the glint in your eye and immediately begins talking faster, "I do not want to spend my one afternoon not trapped inside a stale family video watching the two of you make heart eyes at each other. Got it?"

You salute her, straightening your posture in mock seriousness. You were going to give her request an effort, really. But now that you know he's going to be there, it's all you can do not to think about the straight slope of his nose, or the moles that dot in abundance all over his tanned, olive skin. You can already picture the broad expanse of his shoulders and the thatch of hair that starts at the top of his pecks and disappears beneath the waistband of his swim trunks. God, you want to find out just where that trail leads--

"Hey!" Robin snaps her slender fingers in front of your face, "You're literally already drooling."

"Rob," you raise your right hand, "I solemnly swear that I will be on my best behavior."

"It's not even you I'm really worried about," she groans. Already conjuring the mental image of the man she's seen Steve morph into around a woman he finds attractive, like a male bird during mating season. And what's worse is that he doesn't even just find you attractive-- that would be one thing. Steve wants to take you out to get greasy diner food after a night of barhopping and dancing; he wants to hold your hand during horror movies and wake up to you in his bed. Steve wants to do all kinds of things that aren't fucking you stupid anywhere and everywhere that was technically legal.

The entire friend group was gathered together around Steve's ridiculously well-maintained inground pool on the hottest day in July. Maybe the hottest day of the year. You'd nearly been late because of how much time you'd spent picking out a swimsuit. Something that wasn't too slutty but still didn't leave a lot to the imagination.

Steve, evidently, had the same idea. You've never seen men's swim trunks with such a short inseam that wasn't a Speedo; though you've seen Steve in that, too. Thank you, Hawkins High Swim Team!

Robin had never technically told you that Steve had a huge, honking crush on you; but you had your suspicions. It was in the way his eyes darkened a little when he watched you take off your sundress to step into the refreshing water of the pool. He tried to hide behind his Ray Bans, but he wasn't slick. Everywhere you went, Steve was never far behind. Opting to get you a drink, to sit at the empty seat beside you at his picnic table on the patio, or using whatever pool float that you weren't.

You started to feel the unmistakable ache of a sunburn on your shoulders around an hour into the party as you realize with a stark clarity that you never put on sunscreen. Idiot.

Robin must've packed some in her tote bag; that's what Robins do, right?

After scouring through the contents though, you come up empty.

"I'll be back in a minute!" You yell to the rest of the party as you head inside the sliding glass door. You make your way to the only Harrington bathroom you could locate and start tearing through the linen closet. How is there not a single bottle of sunscreen in this whole damn house--

"Looking for something?" A charming, tenor voice asks you from the doorway.

You jolt and feel your face go red for an entirely different reason that has nothing to do with the hot ball of fire in the sky, "Uhm, yeah, sorry I--"

"Oh," Steve tsks when he takes a glance at your shoulders, "lookin' a little burnt, huh?"

"Yeah-- that's--actually why I'm in here. Looking for sunscreen." He makes you so stupid and syrupy it's infuriating.

Steve reaches over you into the top shelf of the medicine cabinet that had been right in front of you, disguised as a mirror.

"Here," he smiles and holds it out for you to take like you hadn't just gotten the most delicious whiff of his deodorant and natural musk; like you hadn't just gotten a front row, unobstructed view of his perfect biceps flexing.

"Th-thanks." You stutter, hating yourself for it.

"Hey, no problem," he winks. Asshole. "Can you reach your back though? That's where you're gonna need it," his tone would suggest he's actually concerned, but you know better.

"Stop flirting with me," you warn, impossible to take seriously with the way your voice shakes.

"Can't," Steve says, lifting the bottle of sunscreen and flipping open the cap with his thumb, "I like seeing you flustered,"

A cold dollop of sunscreen hits the warmed skin of your back, then Steve's gentle but calloused hands spreading it evenly over the expanse of your shoulders. His thumbs dig and knead at the tense muscle there, it causes your breath to hitch in your throat.

"Haven't been able to stop looking at you all day," Steve whispers against the shell of your ear, his breath fanning your neck. He smells like mint and summer and chlorine.

"I know," you choke on your breath.

"Bullshit," his hands have suddenly moved lower, your shoulders forgotten. Steve's mouth connects with the supple skin of your jaw; the imprint of his grin on your neck. His fingers hook beneath the waistline of your bikini, snapping it back into place with the harsh sound of wet fabric meeting skin. You can feel the hard outline of him against your ass, hardly any layers separating you with how both of your swimsuits are still a little damp. You don't dare to imagine what it would feel like if the two of you really were stripped bare.

You tilt you head back to grant him easier access to continue his assault on your neck, "Eck-" Steve says suddenly, breaking your focus.

"What-- is everything okay?" You ask worriedly, afraid you'd done something to disgust him and not even known it.

"Got sunscreen in my mouth," he smiles sheepishly, the first time since the two of you have been trapped in this tiny half-bath that Steve has dropped his cocky vibrato. You liked the shy look on him.

"Oh," you giggle and turn to face him, bracing your hands on the cool ceramic of the sink, "Maybe kissing me would help get the taste out of your mouth?" His cheeks flush. Checkmate.

Steve Harrington might appear to be all smooth smiles and charming sentiments, but its a rouse. Behind all of that arrogant bullshit is a boy who wants to be liked-- wants to be wanted. It takes almost nothing for him to crack.

His breath stutters as he leans in, trying to take some of the power back that he'd momentarily lost. The kiss is hesitant at first, his lips soft and plush. He pushes when you pull and he slips his tongue between your lips when you part them for him. Predictable. Easy.

"I like you, Steve," you admit quietly against his lips. He pulls back to look at you, properly doe-eyed.

"But if we do this, I want to go out with you. Really go out. On a real date. No more of this 'will-they-won't-they' shit." You continue.

"Of-of course." He stutters, "Anywhere. I'd take you anywhere." and he means it. Not just because he wants to get his dick wet now, and not because more sex might follow a successful date.

"Okay," you breathe, leaning in again.

"Okay." Steve breathes back.

His lips collide with yours more hungrily now, with the knowledge that this could really happen again. His hands pull your pelvis flush to his by your waist, a moan escapes you at the press of his dick against where you've been throbbing for him since the moment you stepped foot on the Harrington's back deck.

His hips grind rhythmically against you as one of his hands finds the back of your neck at the same time that your fingers begin carding through his chlorine soaked hair.

"Can I take these off?" Steve pants, referring to your bathing suit bottoms.

"Yes," you even lift and shimmy your hips to help the tacky fabric move down your legs and onto the tiled floor with a heavy plop!

Steve's fingers find your clit in record time-- Seriously, who would've thought?-- and he rubs consistently tight circles over you. You're positively falling apart in his hands, and you might've been more embarrassed if you weren't so horny.

You pull the tie of his swim trunks loose and watch them fall to his ankles; his cock bobbing deliciously against your stomach with the close proximity. It was surreal getting to see it somewhere other than in your wet dreams.

Steve falls to his knees like a man worshipping an ancient being, spreads your thighs with two huge hands and licks a long stripe up your centerfold. It all happens so fast, you don't have even a second to catch up. Your hips buck once into his mouth, but he takes it like a champ-- licking and sucking in all the right places with just the right pressure.

"Steve," you gasp, taking a fist full of his hair to guide him exactly where you need him. He loves it, revels in it, even. He hums in encouragement as you continue to ride his face in earnest, the beautifully straight slope of his nose proves its more than just for show as it bumps deliciously against your clit every time Steve moves his head.

His mouth is too busy to do anything but make choked noises of gratification before slipping his index and middle finger into your soaked core. There's not even an ounce of resistance.

Steve continues pumping in and out of you, rests his cheek on your thigh, "Gotta get her ready f'me, baby," he tells you, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses to the junction where your leg meets your hip.

Steve stops suddenly. It takes literally every ounce of composure you have left not to whine and cry like a child over the loss of stimulation.

"Wait." Steve says, looking up at you from his knees; his mouth shiny with spit and your arousal, pupils nearly all the way blown.

"What?" You ask exasperatedly.

"I don't have any condoms--"

"Steve!"

"I'm sorry! I've been having a dry spell, forgive me!" He defends but it's useless. No amount of unbridled, pent-up horniness is going to convince you to let this a man fuck you raw, especially when you're not on the pill.

"Just--" You rush for an idea. Any idea. "Fuck my thighs then?"

"Fuck your-?" His eyebrows quirk and it'd be cute if you weren't so desperate to get the friction back.

"Yes, just," you huff, help pull him to his feet, turning yourself around to face the bathroom mirror, "Like this." You guide his heavy cock in between the wet mess of your thighs, and the unexpected touch causes Steve's hips to jolt and an embarrassingly pathetic whine to tumble from his lips.

Steve gets the hang of it quickly, moving in slow languid strokes while his eyes boar into yours in the mirror's reflection. It's way hotter than it should be.

You push your hips back to meet his thrusts in time, signaling him to speed the rhythm up a bit. You needn't not remind Steve Harrington twice. For all his cocky vibrato, he's been shockingly quick to fall to your will.

He grabs a fistful of your hair and forces your head back to keep eye contact with him when your neck feels too weak to hold it up yourself, "Want you to keep lookin' at me, baby. That's it." There's that cocky vibrato again.

The feeling of his fist at the base of your skull is perfect, but not enough. You grab his hand and gingerly bring it around your front; he gets the memo. His index and middle fingers quickly resume the brutal pace Steve had previously set with his tongue. Between that and the mouth-watering friction of his cock sliding along the inside of your plush thighs, you're not far from the edge already. The pretty little noises he's making in your ear don't help either.

You're not even sure Steve knows what he's saying, just breathy whispers of praise as he ruts filthily against you:

Yeah, baby. That's it, so beautiful like this. Gonna make you come all over my cock, huh? Fuck, you feel so good. God.

The specifics don't matter; you're just praying he doesn't stop.

Before you know it, you're right there. "Yes, Stevie, don't stop! That's so good, baby."

Steve's mouth parts in a cocky grin, "Yeah? Right there?"

"Yes!" You gasp; mouth parted in a silent scream.

You're not sure what compels you-- you're not usually quite as vocal in bed. Or, in bathroom. "Good boy." You pant as your orgasm washes over you, knuckles white against the marble countertop of the Harrington's pristine half bath.

Steve comes immediately with a sharp gasp and teeth sunk into your shoulder to stifle whatever guttural noise would've escaped him if he hadn't. Oh. Steve Harrington has a praise kink. Dually noted.

The sink in front of you, his hand and your thighs are all covered in his release. Genuinely. There's so much.

A rough hand grasps your jaw, pulls you into a searingly hot kiss; deep and languid. Your breath mixes as you pant into each other's mouths.

A pounding on the door snaps you both from your reverie. It's Robin. She doesn't have to say anything, you just know.

"Hey, dickheads! Care to come help with dinner or are you guys content to keep sucking face all evening?"

Steve exhales a frustrated breath through his nose, "Jesus, Robin. We'll be out in a second. You hear her receding steps as she stomps off towards the kitchen once more.

Steve smiles at you, tender. Kisses your temple with soft, sweaty lips.

"This isn't over," he mumbles into your hairline.

"You're right. You still have to take me out on a date."

[thirteenheavens]

hi love!! just curious what you think of vernon w a pregnancy kink? love your work! 🩷

Really,You don’t mind? || Vernon Chwe

Word count: 800+

Notes: I think hed be so shy and about it and not wanna show it god honestly these requests are too good

Vernon has always been fascinated by the idea of pregnancy, but he's never told anyone about his secret kink. He finds it incredibly attractive to see you carrying his child, your body changing and growing as the weeks go by.

However, he's too shy to bring it up to you, afraid of making you uncomfortable or weirding you out. Vernon watches you with a mix of love and desire, his eyes lingering on your swollen belly whenever you're together. One night, as you're cuddling on the couch, he can't hold back anymore. He gently places his hand on your stomach, feeling the baby kick beneath his palm.

"You're so beautiful like this," he whispers, his voice filled with emotion. "I can't believe you're carrying our child." He nuzzles his face into your neck, inhaling your scent. Vernon's other hand slowly moves up to cup your breast, his thumb brushing over your sensitive nipple. Vernon immediately realizes what he's doing and pulls his hand away, blushing furiously. He sits up straight, avoiding eye contact with you.

"I'm sorry," he mutters, his voice shaky. "I shouldn't have... I just got carried away." He runs a hand through his hair, clearly embarrassed by his own actions. Vernon steals a glance at you, trying to gauge your reaction. He's afraid that he's made you uncomfortable or disgusted by his behavior.

"It's okay," you say softly, placing your hand on his arm. "You don't have to apologize. I know how you feel." Vernon looks at you in surprise, his eyes widening.

"You do?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. He's relieved that you're not upset, but also nervous about what you might say next. Vernon's heart is racing as he waits for your response, his hand still hovering near your stomach.

"Yes," you confirm, squeezing his arm gently. "I've noticed the way you look at me. And I know how much you love seeing me pregnant." Vernon's face turns even redder at your words, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment and arousal. He swallows hard, trying to find his voice.

"I... I didn't think you would notice," he admits, his eyes darting away from yours again. "I was afraid you'd think I was weird or something." You chuckle softly, moving closer to him.

"It's not weird," you reassure him. "It's actually kind of hot." Vernon's breath hitches at your words, his eyes snapping back to yours. He can't believe what he's hearing.

"Really?" he asks, his voice filled with disbelief. "You don't think it's creepy?" He reaches out to touch your belly again, this time more confidently. His fingers trace the stretch marks that have appeared on your skin, marveling at the changes your body has gone through.

"No, I don't," you say, smiling at him. "I actually find it really sweet that you're so turned on by seeing me pregnant. It makes me feel wanted." Vernon lets out a shaky breath, his hand moving lower to rest on your hip.

"You have no idea how much I want you right now," he confesses, his voice thick with desire. "Seeing you like this, carrying our child... it drives me crazy." He pulls you onto his lap again, this time with more purpose. Vernon's hands roam over your body, caressing your curves and lingering on your belly.

"I can't keep my hands off you," he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear. "You're so damn sexy." You can feel his hardness pressing against you through his pants as he grinds up against you. Vernon's breathing becomes heavy as he struggles to control himself.

"Can I... can I touch you?" he asks, his hands already moving to the hem of your shirt. You nod, giving him permission. Vernon quickly pulls your shirt off, revealing your swollen breasts and the growing baby bump. He groans at the sight, his eyes darkening with lust.

"You're perfect," he breathes, his hands cupping your breasts gently. "Every inch of you." He leans in to kiss your neck, his lips trailing down to your collarbone and then to your chest. Vernon's tongue flicks out to taste your skin, his hands kneading your sensitive flesh. He takes one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and licking it gently. The sensation sends shivers down your spine, making you moan softly.

"Mmm, you taste so good," Vernon murmurs against your skin. "And your breasts are even more sensitive now." He switches to the other nipple, giving it the same attention as the first. His hands move down to your pants, unbuttoning them and sliding them off your legs. Vernon looks at you with a mix of admiration and hunger, his eyes raking over your body.

"I can't believe you're mine," he says huskily. "You're so beautiful, and you're carrying my child. It's like a dream come true."

[leashybebes]

for love in stereo, I keep thinking of Tommy and Buck sending dirty pics to Sal while he's away on some conference or seminar that would take like three days, mainly featuring Tommy's hands on/in various parts of Buck's body, and Buck's mouth on different parts of Tommy. They don't even add captions, just a warning at the start not to look at the pictures in company 😏

and they send it on the first day he's away so he has to seethe about it until he can get home to his men and make them pay

almost a month late, but hey, here's some smut in return for this very inspiring ask! 2.2k, e, buck and tommy are little shits, sal loves them ever so much, dirty photos and a smattering of daddy kink, just them being their best most annoying selves

"What the fuck was the point of landing a pilot if I still have to fly fucking commercial?" Sal grumbles.

"I'm sorry, did you want me to steal a helicopter and fly you to Seattle?" Tommy asks, taking a swig from the obscenely large coffee Buck had gone to fetch for all three of them when the delay to Sal's flight had been announced. 

"Yes, actually," Sal says, digging his knuckles into Tommy's thigh.

From the other side of him, Buck pipes up, "That would be really hot, actually."

"Me losing my job is attractive to you?"

"Yeah," Buck grins, his eyes sleepy but his smile bright. "Be our kept man."

"You couldn't afford me, honey," Tommy tells him.

"Pretty sure Captain Deluca's good for it," Buck says, his voice heavy with flirtation, and Sal has to laugh. God, he's gonna miss these two dipshits so much, never mind that it's only a week.

Like he's reading Sal's mind, Tommy taps their ankles together and says, "Hey."

"What's up?"

"We'll miss you," Tommy tells him and Buck lets out an unhappy sigh of agreement, shuffling as close as the awful ass-numbing chairs will allow to drop his head onto Sal's shoulder.

Sal puts his arm around Tommy's shoulders and pushes him in to kiss his temple, turns awkwardly to kiss the top of Buck's head.

"I'll miss you guys too. Don't get into too much trouble without me."

"We'll get into exactly the right amount of trouble," Buck promises.

"That's my boys," Sal says.

"Yeah," Tommy agrees.

Finally, boarding for Sal's flight gets called, a full hour after it was meant to take off.

"Jesus, I'm gonna be so late getting to the hotel," Sal grumbles.

He stoops to grab his carry on bag, but Tommy gets there first, swinging it over his shoulder. Buck puts his arm around Sal's waist and Sal has to smile. Clearly he's getting a two-man escort as far as is legally possible.

Tommy's slow to hand over the bag when they get there and Sal grabs for it in the end, rolling his eyes.

"C'mon, enough with the eyes, I can't handle this puppy shit from both of you. It's only a week."

Buck exaggerates his pout on purpose and Sal has to laugh, using one hand to squeeze his cheeks to puff his lips out even more and plants a kiss onto them. He turns to Tommy and reels him in for a kiss too before Tommy drags Buck into join them in an embrace and Sal lets himself be squeezed between them for a long moment.

"Alright," he says finally. "Look after each other."

And then he leaves them behind to get on a plane full of grumpy assholes to go to a conference which, while it will include some interesting workshops, will mostly contain people Sal would cross the street to avoid in any other circumstances. That he'll be a thousand miles away from his boys when they have an incredibly rare overlapping three days off coming up later in the week only serves to worsen his already sour mood.

By the time he lands and switches his phone back on, there are already three messages in their group chat. The first is a shot of Tommy captured in the middle of rolling his eyes in the Fat Burger nearest their place. The table between them is scattered with wrappers, one bearing a smear of egg yolk, the other a stray pickle.

Miss u! Buck has written.

The next message is just a text from Tommy: let us know when you land.

Then after that, another photo, from Tommy this time, an awkward angled selfie that shows the two of them on the couch, Buck tucked into the crook of Tommy's arm, fast asleep, mouth open and drooling on Tommy's shirt.

Post-burger slump. He lasted maybe ten minutes. Love you.

While he's waiting for his hotel transport, Sal shoots off a reply.

Landed, heading to the hotel now. Thomas you better steal me that helicopter for the return journey or we're starting a new life in Seattle. You two better be in bed by now btw. Do not sleep on the couch the whole time I'm gone. Love you guys. 

-----

Sal wakes up gritty-eyed and grumpy the next morning. He drinks terrible hotel-room coffee while he's in the shower, thinking longingly of the expensive coffee machine he'd razzed Tommy so bad about buying and the jug of cold brew that always takes up space in their fridge.

He checks his phone after his shower and while their group chat has been quiet since last night, there is a single message in his chat with Buck.

Wish you were here, the message says, accompanied by a surprisingly tasteful photo that nonetheless sends Sal's pulse skyrocketing. Tommy's big hand wrapped around Evan's hip, the contrast between Tommy's work-roughened paw and Evan's pale, secret skin makes Sal want, desperately, to be there with them.

It only came through while he was in the bathroom, and the idea that he's missing out, not just in general but right now specifically makes him feel a little crazy.

Tease, he sends back, and the bubbles pop up immediately.

He's still asleep :(

Don't know why you ever thought you could get by with just one person, you horny little shit

Want u so bad

Wake him up, Sal sends. Tell him I said he needs to take care of you properly

OK daddy

Little shit, Sal thinks fondly. Buck only uses that word when he's feeling especially needy. Sal resists the temptation to send Tommy a passive aggressive list of ways he needs to take care of their boy, because if he goes down that route he's going to be late for registration and worse, miss out on any semi-decent breakfast offerings.

He texts Buck instead, one last message: Have fun, sweetheart. You can tell me all about it when I call tonight.

With that, Sal dresses and heads down to the conference suite, trying to look like a responsible fire captain ready to learn about the latest developments in fire science and rescue gear, rather than a guy being long-distance tortured by his boyfriends.

Breakfast is about what he's come to expect from these kinds of things so he loads up on greasy hashbrowns and grabs an apple in deference to Buck's increasingly snide comments about his cholesterol.

The keynote speaker is a stone-cold badass - she's a deputy fire chief from Detroit who came up during the city bankruptcy, and Sal's genuinely pretty spellbound as she talks about how they jerry-rigged alarm systems using everything from soda cans to fucking fax machines. It's not often that Sal feels positive about the state of the LAFD, but godddamn.

He knows Buck would love that shit, so after her speech wraps up he spends a few minutes searching up old articles about that whole mess to send over to him. He's heading into a session that promises to be a lot less interesting when his phone vibrates and he risks a glance. The message is from Tommy and it says don't answer if you're not alone.

Motherfucker.

Heading into a session, he sends back.

Too bad, he gets in reply. Evan wanted to video call.

Sal doesn't know anyone else who can be so fucking smug over text message. He sends back, you better take good care of him for me then and tunes back into the talk before he can get any more distracted.

The workshop wraps up, and then it's straight into a demo of some new search and rescue equipment which makes Sal both light up with glee and want to dickpunch the brass one at a time until they free up some actual funds. In the brief gap between the end of the demo and the buffet lunch, Sal checks his phone again. The group chat is positively flooded with notifications and he ducks outside to find a little bit of privacy. 

Since the video call was a bust, we thought you might appreciate these. Not for public consumption, Tommy has sent.

The photos start out…not innocent as such, but maybe more PG-13 than R rated. The first is Buck from the waist up, bare chested and sprawled out against their dark blue sheets, grinning up at the camera. One of Tommy's hands is on his chest, tagging him down against the mattress. 

Things take a turn a few photos in - it would look innocuous to anyone else maybe, just Tommy's big hand cupping Buck's face. But Sal can tell from the angle that Buck's on his knees. Plus, he has the fuck-drunk look in his eyes that he only gets after he's already cum at least once. More than that, even, Tommy's thumb is spit-shiny to the first knuckle and Buck's mouth is red and pouting. From there, it's a dizzying array of shots of the two of them, a lot of them zoomed in far enough that anyone else would struggle to tell them apart, to figure out whose hand that is pressing fingertip bruises into whose thigh, whether the bite mark has been pressed into Tommy's shoulder or Buck's, which of them the soft inner thigh made red with stubble burn belongs to. Sal can tell every single time and it's making him feel crazy.

Plenty of the photos are a lot less subtle - the head of Tommy's cock resting on Evan's pink tongue, three of Tommy's thick fingers inside Buck's ass, Tommy's hand wrapped around Buck's cock, slow ribbons of cum dribbling down from the head.

The final pictures are a handful of shots of Buck with his back to the camera, riding Tommy like his life depends on it. The line of Tommy's torso is visible in some of the pictures, the cradle of his hips in most of them. In a few, Buck's halfway through bouncing either up or down, and Sal can see the slick rod of Tommy's cock being swallowed up by his ass. In one particularly memorable one, Buck's looking back over his shoulder at the camera, pink tongue caught between his teeth, Tommy's free hand clenched tight on his hip.

Screw starting a new life in Seattle, Sal is gonna die before he ever makes it home if they keep this up.

------

He ends up calling them later than he'd been hoping, having been roped into getting drinks with a few of the attendees. Normally it would have been fun - Sal's not much of a networker, but this is more just bitching with a bunch of people at his own level. But the whole time he's itching to get back to his shitty little hotel room so he can call Buck and Tommy. He's so fucking whipped, he realizes, not for the first time.

When he finally slips away, he spends the elevator ride up to his room sending Buck the links he gathered earlier. As soon as the door shuts behind him, he hits dial on a video call. He's called Tommy on reflex, but it's Buck who answers, shirtless in bed with a brilliant smile on his face.

"Hey, gorgeous," Sal says, and can't even be a little embarrassed at how soft and fond it comes out.

"Hey," Buck says. "Tommy's in the shower. How was your day?"

"Eh," Sal says, flopping onto the bed. "Keynote was good. I sent you some links."

"Yeah?" The image on Sal's screen wobbles for a second and when Buck rematerializes he's holding his own phone, already mid-scroll.

"Oh, cool! God, I mean it sucks that they had to, but that's amazing that they could."

"Hey," Sal says gently. "Back in the room, huh?"

"Sorry! Yep, I'm here. Did you like our photoshoot, daddy?"

God, he's going to give Sal whiplash in the best possible way, going from nerding out about old news stories to wide eyed tease in the space of a heartbeat.

"That wasn't a photoshoot, baby, that was just straight up porn."

Buck laughs and shrugs, looking impish. "Potato potahto," he says. "We just missed you, is all."

"I miss you guys, too."

"That Sal?" he hears Tommy call from somewhere offscreen. If Buck's suddenly wide eyes are anything to go by, he's done that thing he does where he oh so casually strolls in from the bathroom with nothing but a too-small towel to preserve what Sal guesses has to be called his modesty.

"Sure is," Sal says. "The two of you are in deep shit when I get home, by the way."

"Yeah?" Tommy asks, miles of naked chest coming into view. Sal refuses to be derailed, but Buck's another story, the camera angle going wonky all over again.

"Deep. Shit," Sal promises.

"Big words for a man a thousand miles away," Tommy says.

"Yeah, well, you know I'm good for it," Sal says.

"Well," Tommy says, plucking the phone from Buck's hand. There's a seasickness-inducing moment of shaky-cam bullshit before Tommy gets it propped up in a way that gives Sal a very promising view of the whole bed. "If we're already in trouble, we better make it worth our while, huh?"

"Yeah," Sal says, settling back against the headboard. "Guess you better had."

[purlturtle]

It's the same for me! Or similar? In that pictures that a lot of people find sexy (sexy poses, naked skin, ladies in suits, thirst traps, whatever) don't do zilch for me. (Pictures of yummy food, though, especially when I'm already a little hungry? Oh THEY work! 😂)

For me it started clicking when I heard asexuality described as a distinction between libido ("I want sex") and sexual attraction ("I want sex with that person"). Seeing a person, in and of itself, has never made me go "oh I want sex with *them*!" It's either "ope, my libido is running high, you seem like we could have fun together, wanna shag?" Or "I love you, I love your body, including in a sexual way, and part of how I love you is to want sex with you. And so when I see your body (for example (but not exclusively) in a sexy pose), I'm gonna wanna shag ya."

Or, when I see people actually perform sexual acts (like, say, a heavy make-out scene in a movie), I might get aroused from that, sure. But not in a "I want *this* actress specifically to smooch me like that", just in a "oh yeah I could smooch someone right now" kind of way. Just like a pic of a juicy burger can make me go "oh I could do with a burger right now."

Bodies, yo. Brains too. They are weird.

And now I want a burger.

I've been living with humans for four entire decades at this point and I'm still not entirely sure what "sexual attraction" or "a sex drive" is.

it seems one of those things where everyone saying it is talking about different (possibly overlapping) things, but I don't get it.

[aroaessidhe]

the thing about aromantic-coding used as an obstacle to overcome in romances is like. of course these are actual normal and legit experiences that have nothing to do with aromanticism - many people have issues with commitment and romance because of fear or trauma or insecurity or repression.

(side note: I recommend reading this post by @lavendersbook missed opportunities in aro representation or the accidental aromantics for some more coherent thoughts than mine adjacent to this)

but when you have a book where one character's main journey is about them figuring out their demisexuality and relationship with sex/attraction, and then the other main character has an excessive amounts of moments of them expressing distaste for romance, being uncomfortable when people give them romantic gestures or want to be in a relationship with them, are happy with non-romantic sexual relationships, express the fact that they're not interested in romance and constantly have those boundaries pushed.......only for them to I guess eventually have those boundaries pushed over the edge and admit to whatever fear or trauma is stopping them from being in a relationship then they get together and it's fine they're in love happy ending

it's just a bit weird imo, in an ace book, to not even BRING UP the concept of could they be aromantic? Because even if they aren't arospec, being introduced to a mindset that says ‘it’s okay and normal to not be interested in or prioritise romance’ could help them feel better about the way they are and probably allow them to face their Issues naturally instead of being forced into overcoming it. Unlearning amatonormativity benefits everyone.

(and yes blah blah the point of stories is to be messy and unhealthy sometimes and not everyone has knowledge of the intricacies of every queer identity but I personally think if your narrative falls apart by a character knowing about aromanticism you need a better narrative)

like in Kiss Me, Maybe, the love interest has this fear of commitment because of her past relationship ending badly and the greyace MC does ask her if she could be aro, and she's like no, I feel attraction and desire for romance, I just don't trust myself not to mess up again (something along those lines). The book isn't perfect but like, it was so easy to at least attempt to bring it up. (and sometimes, when it comes to aro & ace identities, we need Telling as well as Showing. because the aspec things we 'see' are different for everyone)

Whereas That's What She Said ultimately villainising the aro-coded character for her fear of committment due to her parents' divorce or whatever while the rest of the book is about her friend's demisexuality.... and This Feast of a Life (which I really did like overall, it just unfortunately also does this) where one MC has a dislike/fear of relationships because her mum died and she's afraid of getting close to someone and losing them again.....in both cases there was such an opportunity for exploring an arospec character? or at least them questioning about it? and the trauma/issues could have been explored as the things they are rather than a reason to cause a conflict? In TFoaL especially there was so much opportunity for exploring the complexities of differing needs between an alloace and aroallo in a relationship - like that was explored I'd say, it just feels off when it abruptly ends with the aro-coded character being like yeah i was repressing things we're in love everything is Normal

(as an aside note, cynthia so's other book (which I loved!!!) has a SC who 'never felt romantic towards ex, there must be something wrong with me' and I was sure it was going to balance that with the questioning ace SC subplot and have her be questioning aro but. never brought up. so I was thinking about that when I started TFoaL knowing it was aspec in some way)

it's just kinda. I'm not mad I'm just disappointed. there was opportunity for exploring things in more interesting and complex ways and it's unfortunate that, instead, books keep going in this direction. idk. end thoughts

[uwuthomasuwu]

.

[bonehilda-deactivated]

One of the best things about Disco Elysium by far is that it does not fear ugly women. The world is full of ugly men, but ugly women are so hard to come by.

[neigepomme]

okay i need to yap about this rn and i feel like you'll understand miss pomme. it actually hurts me how pure caleb's love is and how selfless he can be. he started loving and protecting mc when he didn't even know what those words meant. he was just a little kid and he asked for nothing in return. he spent years looking out for her, searching for her in every crowd and not once did he put himself first. it's almost as if it's an instinct for him. i love him so much :( i want him to be happy in every lifetime he gets to experience with mc. ok bai

anon i am holding your hands GOD i have never understood something harder in my entire life.. yapping a lot because it genuinely makes me so upset too

i think about this a lot!! i enjoy yandere caleb stuff, and i think the darker content is enjoyable to read — but personally? i think if you genuinely did not want him in your life, he'd disappear, as long as he knew you were safe. he never really allowed himself to feel selfish or to require your love, always satisfied with being by your side without you necessarily reciprocating it.

sometimes, i wonder if he ever resented the life he was condemned to. i don't think anyone would blame him if he did. it always breaks my heart just how much love he holds in his heart, and whenever i see his freckles and how bright his eyes shine, it makes me super emotional. caleb had to grow so fast, and he never had a moment's respite — always on edge and constantly fighting to stay alive. his relationship with josephine wasn't a good one too. he remembers all of the experimentations, yet lives with one of the perpetrators, just so he can stay and care for mc.

what drives me even more nuts? the way he always looked up to the sky and dreamed of freedom, and how mc was always included in his vision of freedom. he went to the DAA hoping to learn how to fly, how to be able to feel free and his motivation was always mc. his worth is always associated with mc, and even in his weakest moments, where he should care for himself, where he should feel hurt, his mind never allows him to.

in the new world underneath story, you find out that he limited the radius of the explosion with his evol in order to shield mc — which is why he was significantly more injured than he should have been. he would much rather die than encounter the possibility of mc getting hurt. in such a stressful moment, where he surely could only feel pain from the flames and the debris, where he should have cared for himself, his mind was only on mc. and when he lost his arm? the only thing he mourned was the ability to feel mc's warmth.

you know what gets me about this too? if he was offered the chance to do it all over again, he would. in a heartbeat, without even hesitating for a bit. in every scenario, in every dream of his, mc is there. his love is too big for his body, and he would much rather be miserable and know that mc is okay, than be okay without knowing if mc is. every single time he is given the opportunity to be selfish, he decides to be selfless.

i really hope we get a card where he's genuinely happy, and we see him act a bit more selfish. i want caleb to be greedier, to demand love, demand affection, demand care. i want him to put his desires first, and most of all, i want him to smile without worry. he deserves so much and i really hope that we get to see him live his childhood freedom dreams without a care in the world. need the world to give caleb his wings back!!

edit: ok this got real emo i feel bad so have what i think caleb's love would feel like <3333

caleb's love is a hope that gives you wings. shades of orange and purple, sweaty hands tightly held as you chase sunsets, past, present, and yet to come. summer breeze carrying the weight of unspoken childhood memories. freckled cheeks painted with melted apple flavored ice cream. shared headphones and loud guitar, representing the intensity of your beating hearts. adrenaline rushes and familiar laughter into the early morning hours.

[izakk-tiberius-kyle]

Ya think I haven't tried? Ya think I ain't fuckin workin on it? I have used every resource I got an' everythin in me ta do exactly that. It always circles back ta the same shit. An' what about when I die an' come back again? It'll just go back ta how it was before while my soul picks the right vessel. I have tried an' tried an' tried every god damn way I could an' none of it is permanent because Gotham just attracts literally the worst shit there is possible an' it's my problem! So long as there is greed an' evil I will never get ta rest or die an' go ta heaven or hell or purgatory or wherever I fuckin end up! Ya think after doin this for Gotham's entire existence that more than likely I tried that method!? It woulda worked by now if it was gonna! Clearly it won't work! Not permanently! Never permanently!

He's yelling now, yelling and tearing up in frustration.

Ya don' get it because ya get a fuckin choice. Ya don' HAVE ta do shit! Ya all get ta choose what ya purpose in life is! Ya soul gets ta go rest in fluffy clouds an'-an' act like the solution is soooo SOOOO easy! Well s'fuckin not! Gotham will never ACTUALLY be saved. I'm stuck here! You ain't! Bruce has tried! All the Bats have tried! No one's tried more or for longer than me! An' jack shit has changed except it all just gets worse! Worse for me an' worse for Gotham an' it's all on me even after you all fuckin die and leave an' I just come right back ta this fuckin hell hole!

I agree with your Bruce tbh I mean you only exist to be a weapon and protect Gotham so why be anything else?

Haha

Yeah

True

[borgialucrezia]

we really don't talk enough about how cesare (who proclaims himself to be honorable) actually has an extreme level of self-absorption and narcissism. they jump out on different situations especially in his vindictive sexual harassment of the women he slept with for wounding his ego. like his abuse of ursula (who was deceived by his chivalrous façade) for leaving him and taking a will of her own vs. his aggressive grabbing of caterina's breast when she taunted him at his sister's wedding (shows that he's still bitter over her rejecting him at forli).

[adustoflove]

I always think well if I dated a man, I wouldn't feel as insane. I wouldn't feel so awful or jealous. And then I remember why I came to the conclusion that I'm a lesbian. I just wouldn't care if it were a man. I just can't bring myself to care about men like that 😔😩😭

[thefrogdalorian]

I think on this fine Saturday afternoon it's a good opportunity to take a breather and remember that there are really no ethical paparazzi pictures. Every single one is inherently exploitative.

Just because photos were taken on a movie set, when someone is 'working,' does not make the practice any less invasive and creepy. Imagine just going about your day, doing your job and having some weirdo snapping pictures of you to sell without your consent for others to endlessly repost online.

There are thousands of pictures of your favourite actor online already. Plenty taken with his knowledge and consent. I'd really like to see more of them on my dash, rather than the creeper shots.

And don't get me started how disseminating these pictures directly leads to people going to said sets. What starts off as admiring how good someone looks has real world implications.

No, hanging around a movie set and disrupting people doing their jobs is not harmless fun or a way to show your appreciation.

If you hang around a movie set, you are a stalker.

Don't tell me that it's okay to take your online admiration for someone offline. You may admire him but he does not, and will never, personally know you. He will never be your friend/boyfriend/daddy. He is a stranger.

The only way meeting your favourite actor is going to happen is at a convention or maaaaaybe a movie premiere if you're incredibly fortunate. You know, places they appear specifically to meet fans (or not in the case of premieres, where the purpose is to promote a movie. Which is also completely understandable if actors don't stop. You are not owed an interaction).

Of course, you cannot help it if you randomly run into someone you admire in the wild. Even then, consider that they probably won't be all too thrilled to be approached in public by a complete stranger. It's up to you to gauge the situation, but remember there is a person at the heart of all of this.

Boundaries and respect are a kindness which deserves to be extended to each and every human being regardless of their looks/talent/fame/wealth.

Fandoms blur those lines a little too often for my liking and I think just scrutinising what you're interacting with, or what behaviour you could be possibly falling down that slippery slope towards is nice to do every once in a while.

I mean no malice with this post and it is not directed at anyone in particular. It's something I cannot help but feel strongly about because I've seen this destructive cycle time and again in fandoms over the years. It's not healthy and it makes us all a little bit more disconnected from our humanity for it...

[applestand]

Can I get a cheer for the asexuals with exceptions please

[troglodyke1895]

questioning my romantic orientation again...