#also would take way longer to progress to the point that it would cause the nerve stuff

[sickgraymeat]

Why do I have like I feel like I have rapid cycling cyclothymia but it’s REALLY rapid and my lows are too severe? Or like bipolar ii breaking out of its lithium shell but REALLY REALLY REALLY rapid cycling like too rapid??? Tag consensus (me talking to myself) it’s probably the (C & regular) PTSD lol

[kisakis-boyfriend]

Author's Note: Bingus anon, if you ever see this by some stroke of fate, thank you for the 2 delicious requests you sent me. I will never forget you 🫡🩵 I also haven't played fortnite in YEARS, so forgive me if my knowledge is outdated 😅

Pairings: Idia x male reader

Warnings: Dom male!reader, sub adult!Idia, blowjob, handjob, semi-public sex(?), teasing

“Wuh-huh?!” Idia stuttered, flailing as he felt a sharp tug on his pants. “Stop that, I'm in a party right now!”

Your boyfriend huffed, unmuting his mic to promptly ask "where we dropping, boys?". While you couldn't see the monitor, you were sure Idia was playing with some others from the dorm—AKA people that he would surely have to speak to again, at some point.

Being the little shit that you were, you decided to have some fun with the blue haired beauty…

Sneaky fingers tip-toe up Idia's thighs, moving dangerously close to his inner thighs and dick. He squeezes his legs shut instinctually, shooting a glare down towards you (which you ignore). You're too focused on prying his legs open again, which causes Idia to squeak in surprise, and he has to lie to his teammates that it was just because he thought he saw a bug on his desk…

Maintaining composure becomes harder as the fiery haired gamer progresses in his match — with players dying left and right, the stakes rise as only the skillful are left to pick each other off; meanwhile, Idia's menace of a boyfriend is rubbing his cock over his sweatpants, giving him a massive hard-on that strains against the fabric.

You untie his sweatpants and pull them down, allowing his cock to bob freely. It's already wet as precum smears on the head, and you smear it even more, beginning to stroke Idia's dick while he bites the inside of his cheek, desperate to keep those embarrassing noises inside.

“You can try to ignore me, baby, but I'm gonna suck your soul out through this pretty cock~” you whisper against his shaft, twisting your wrist as you lazily jack him off. The motion causes his thighs to tremble—Idia'a voice trembling along with them, barely audible to his teammates.

Muting his mic isn't an option, as every time he tries you glare at him with a gaze icy enough to make any man's blood freeze. No, no, you enjoy the risk. You enjoy the risk of Idia getting caught, since there's no way anyone would know who's touching him under his desk. Your identity is perfectly safe, it's only your partner who would be exposed.

“St-ooop… I can't, y/n–!”

“Shh, they'll hear you, dummy.” Idia's eyes roll back when you take so much of his dick into your mouth with ease, careful not to gag too loud and alert his friends. You'll start off slow, sucking on the tip while you massage his balls, keeping your other hand on his thigh so he can't close his legs. As you work his cock deeper inside, Idia almost drops his controller, whining as he recovers and lands another kill. It is impressive that he's still winning even as his tongue lolls out; his vision blurring slightly the longer this game goes on.

When it's finally down to the top 3 players—Idia included—you really give it your all. Every muscle in Idia's body tenses; clenching his hands, toes, jaw, and rocking his hips pathetically. All while your tongue swirls around his cute red cock. At this point, he's even begun to pant straight into the mic, somewhat muffled by the cheers of his teammates.

In a split second, it's over — a single gunshot rings out from the headset, and thick globs of cum fill your mouth as Idia presses your head down with the controller still in his hands. It's over — and he won!

Loud cheering emits from his headset, allowing you to pop off of his dick unheard. You part your lips, showing your boyfriend the mess he made, before swallowing it all. Idia whines again, nudging your shoulder away playfully.

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + twenty

authors note: consider this a part one. splitting it into two because way too much would be happening in one chapter if i stuffed it.

cw/tw: angst, some fluff, characters discussing mental health, brief discussion of past suicide attempt

song inspo: ‘looking through your eyes’ by leann rimes

masterlist +story playlist + taglist request form

words: 5k

“Look, daddy!”

Though the call was directed to Roman, Solana can’t help but also look up, ensuring she keeps her hands on her wiggly baby boy. He’s at the point in his development where he wants to explore anything and everything, and the last thing she wants is her son getting into something while they’re on their trip. 

Roman’s gaze, however, is solely focused on the twins who are a few feet away looking over at him with the biggest, proudest smile on their faces. They’ve each created two pretty impressive yet different sandcastles, one finished, the other still a bit of a work in progress. 

It’s interesting to both parents that right off the bat they know who made what. The twin who has taken after Solana and her artistic abilities having a castle that’s a bit more intricate, neater and most likely to survive longer.

“They’re nice,” Roman compliments, a small smile on his face. “Can I take a picture?”

His question makes all the sense in the world. If there’s one thing Roman is going to do when it comes to his family, it’s snap a picture. Solana doesn’t even know just how much footage he has of their family. She just knows that it’s a lot. That’s for certain. His collection starts as far back as her first pregnancy with the twins to where they are today, spending some time in Isla Mujeres for a brief, family vacation.

Not that Solana has any complaints. She loves that all of these moments have been captured either via photography or videography. Keepsakes that withstand all of time.

However, their girls are clearly opposed to unfinished projects being captured on camera. “Daddy, no. We gotta finish first!”

Roman chuckles, unsurprised that the twin most like him is the one to protest. “Just let me know when you’re ready.”

They don’t respond, but he’s certain that they heard him.

He and Solana redirect their attention to their son who’s sitting between Solana’s open legs, grabbing and banging one of his toys against the towel underneath them. It’s accompanied with his babbling, no doubt his way of expressing his desire to be freed.

Solana giggles, looking over at Roman with a tiny smirk. “The older he gets, the more I see of you in him.”

It’s true. Not even in just looks. All of the kids look like Roman to her, but especially their baby. His father’s looks, his father’s size, and even his short temper too. 

Roman, however, wears a grim expression.“ Hopefully not too much.”

The delivery. The almost frown on his face. The quietness. All of it causes the smile on her face to dip a bit, Solana instantly knowing what’s happening. What he’s not saying. 

“Here.” Lifting up her chunky nine-month-old and handing him over to Roman, Solana’s previous joy returns just a little at seeing the natural smile fall on father and son’s face, the younger making his happiness at being held by his favorite parent obvious in the babbling that grows louder.

Shaking her head, Solana reaches for her phone in her Louis Vuitton beach tote. “You better not tell them I showed you this. They don’t want you to know until it’s done.” Solana warns, swiping until she lands on the desired photo. Scooting closer to him, she reaches him her phone. “Look.”

Roman easily switches their son’s position so he’s sitting on his thigh, one strong forearm wrapped around him, securing him to his chiseled body. He takes the phone, and when his eyes land on the photo, Solana starts explaining. “They’re working on a project in school on who they look up to the most. Their hero.” Roman’s shocked gaze falls back on his gently smiling wife. “They both chose you.” Solana watches Roman closely. The brief flash of emotion in his eyes. The way he smiles. All of the nonverbals that point to him being moved by this. “Why do you think that is, Ro?”

She doesn’t wait for him to respond. “Because they love you. Because you are their hero. Because you’re the best dad they could have ever asked for.” Some of Solana’s words of encouragement are ripped directly from the brief paper that accompanies the drawing of the girls and Roman they’ve created for the project. The drawing that he’s looking at now on her phone.

“You’re amazing with them. You’re amazing with him.” She chews down on her lip, eyes twinkling with excitement. “And you’re gonna be just as amazing with the next.”

Roman’s gaze snaps over to her, eyes filled with shock and curiosity. “Are you…..”

Nodding with a big smile on her face, she lightly teases, “you always did say you could never say no to me.”

Roman scoffs, clearly in a slight state of disbelief. To all of it. “How far along are you?”

Solana brings her hand to her belly, answering proudly, “almost eight weeks.” 

A small smile falls on his face, and right away,  Solana knows. Knows that he’s just as happy and as thrilled as she is. This is just his subtle way of expressing it. “You weren’t kidding when you said you wanted more kids, huh?”

Rolling her pretty eyes, she uses her other hand to playfully flick his shoulder. “You weren’t exactly opposed to the process.”

“Never that.” Shaking her head, she reaches over to tickle her baby’s belly, allowing their soon to be second youngest to play with her finger as the announcement continues to settle in with Roman. “Damn, we’re really having another baby?”

She shrugs, voice so nonchalant as she hints at something else. “Or two…..”

“Christ, Sol.” She giggles at the way his eyes widen ever so slightly. “Are you serious?” Roman sitting up more and adjusting their son so he doesn’t fall over progresses her giggles to full on laughter. “Solana, is it really twins again?”

Calming down, she offers in a still amused voice, “I can show you the sonogram when we get back to the house.”

“Holy—” His reaction is really something she wishes she caught on camera. “How?”

Shaking her head, she throws back at him with a small smirk, “you’re the one who always said you’re good at a lot of things. I guess we should add making twins to the list.”

While there’s humor in her voice, Solana is more than certain Roman doesn’t find comedy in the repeat. He’s happy, yes, but most definitely still astounded. “Another set of twins….” Shaking his head, he starts off with an almost sympathetic voice. “Baby, I love you. You know I do. But, I’m getting a vasectomy after this.” Solana rolls her eyes, though a part of  her wonders how serious he’s being. “Sol, we’re about to have five damn kids. That’s enough. You’re not about to have me out here, fifty-years-old, with a newborn.”

Taking her son from him who starts hitting at her chest, a sign he is ready for a nap, Solana offers a compromise. “We’ll discuss it more later.”

“Yeah, alright.” His fake irritated tone shifts to something else as he nods to the girls who are still laughing and giggling with each other while finishing up their sandcastles. “When you want to tell them?”

It’s a good question she thought of the minute the doctor confirmed her pregnancy. “When we get back home. Let them have this.” While the twins now love their baby brother just as much as they love each other, their initial reaction to the pregnancy was not….the easiest. And Solana doesn’t even want to think about how they might respond to finding out they’re no longer going to be the only twins in the house.

She’d prefer to push off whatever that looks like for later. Just wants to enjoy the now.

“Mommy.”

Solana is startled by the sudden presence of her girls. She never even heard them walk over. “Yes, baby?”

“You’re gonna protect us, right?”

Eyes crinkling with confusion, Solana adjusts her baby boy, lightly patting his back. “What–what do you mean, honey?”

Her oldest eyes watering only sets Solana off even more, as she looks to Roman for some assistance only to see he’s no longer there.

He’s gone.

Solana’s stomach drops as she turns her head, looking to see where he’s gone when her daughter moves a hand to the baby’s back. “You’re gonna have to fight for us.”

Solana is beyond confused right now. About it all. “I don’t—”

“Daddy’s not gonna be there. You have to do it, mama.” The quieter of the two taking a turn to speak, voice almost desperate and emotional only exacerbates the situation. Solana feels her own tears forming when her daughter reaches out her little hand, placing it on her shoulder. “And you can’t trust them.”

That’s when Solana really stills. Looking between the two who wear such troubled expressions, she asks, “trust who?”

With a loud, violent gasp, Solana shoots up from the bed. Breathing erratic, forehead covered in a light sheen of sweat, heart practically beating out of her chest.

It takes a couple of seconds for her to completely come to. She has no idea where that came from. She’s been having dreams over the past couple weeks of a future with Roman, an almost storyline that plays out and typically lulls and keeps her asleep.

But, not tonight.

Tonight, she can’t figure out just what the hell that dream means. If it means anything. A part of her wonders if it has to do with Roman’s text from Friday night and the fact that she hasn’t heard from him since then. Not a text. Not a call. Not a FaceTime. 

It’s been almost three days.

A part of her is worried, but another part of her knows it’s because he’s working. The last thing he probably has time for is to entertain her. And even more, she told him not to worry about her. That she’d be okay. And, she is. She’s just worried about him.

As per usual.

Leaning over, she hits the lamp switch on her bed and grabs her phone, hoping to find a text or notification from him. But, when she presses the side button, all she sees is her lock screen. A photo of them taken on her birthday. She’s sitting on his lap, arms around his neck, the happiest of smiles on her face as she looks directly at the camera, while he’s simply staring at her with such adoration and care.

It makes her heart heavy. An emptiness she’s felt more profoundly in the past few days. 

As much as Solana wants to text him, she won’t. She won’t because she knows that he’ll only think something is wrong and might even try to inconvenience himself by coming back home when he really doesn’t have to. He’ll make it about her when all she wants is to see about him.

Placing her phone back on the nightstand, she swaps it out for her journal, flipping to a blank page. Solana uses the pen attached and starts writing in a way she hasn’t done in some time.

Too long.

Dear Mom,

I can’t remember the last time I wrote to you, and I’m so sorry for that. A lot has happened. Some things I know you’d be proud of me for. Others, not so much. 

I know the truth now, mama. I know that you’re gone because he wanted you gone. Wanted us gone. And to be honest with you, a part of me feels bad. He only did it because you were trying to escape with me and Wes. Because I always asked you why we couldn’t just run away. Not knowing if my constant asking was a part of why you did it will always haunt me. And if so, I’m sorry, mama. I’m so so sorry.

But, there’s something I need to tell you. A lot, actually. But, I’ll space it out for different letters. The most important thing though is that I’m in love. I never ever thought it could and would happen for me, but it did, and while the past few weeks have been rough, what hasn’t changed is my love.

I love Roman. He’s the best thing to ever happen to me since I lost you. He’s kind and patient and takes such good care of me. And……

I finally had my first time, and he made it so special. He is special to me. 

I love him more than anything.

I wish you could have met him. I think you would have eventually grown to like him. He can be….a little rough around the edges, but it’s okay, because he’s mine.

My Ro.

—-------

This isn’t how Solana expected to spend her Sunday. Didn’t see it playing out like this, but one thing she’s been learning in therapy is the power of control. At the end of the day, she can control three things: what she thinks, how she feels, and what she does. Even when she doesn’t feel like it. Even when it seems impossible. 

And that’s why she makes the call to do something she still doesn’t feel 100% ready for while acknowledging that 100% isn’t exactly a realistic, attainable option anyway.

‘Do it scared’ 

That’s what Gail always says, and that’s what she’s doing.

She’s doing it scared.

“Solana.”

Looking up from her lap, the first thing she lands on is the bouquet of flowers that partially obscure an expected, loud colorful look from Naomi. Bayley is holding the large teddy bear that holds a box of chocolates with several greeting cards slipped within the attached ribbon.

The warmest smile sets on Solana’s face.

Untangling her legs from where she sits on the sofa in the visitors area, she walks over to them, the two women seemingly looking confused on how to respond, what to say or even do.

So, Solana takes the lead. Carefully taking first the flowers and then the teddy bear, she places them both down on the coffee table and opens her arms for a group hug.

Neither woman seems to protest. In fact, they both move to accept the kind gesture with so much force that Solana loses her balance for a second. But, it’s when she gathers herself, she fully relishes in the innocent embrace. 

Her eyes naturally shut at being so warmly greeted with two people who started out as strangers but have easily turned into family. 

“It’s so good to see you,” Naomi murmurs against her, holding her just as tight as she’s holding them.

Bayley follows with an emotional, “we’ve been so worried about you.”

Solana sniffles, the tears pooling as she pulls back and looks between the two of them. “I’m so sorry I did that to you guys. I—I didn’t—”

“Solana, we’re sorry, we didn’t do enough to let you know how loved you are and how much you mean to us—” Naomi also gets choked up, shaking her head and fanning her face. “Damn, I knew I shouldn’t have worn this glitter eyeshadow.”

Solana laughs and wipes her eyes. Bayley shakes her head and takes Solana’s hand. “We’re here for you, Solana. Always.” 

Nodding, she leads them both to sit on the sofa with her, again going back to her initial statement. “I know….I know you guys probably feel like I don’t need to say this, but I do want to say how sorry I am for….for putting you through that.” She knows what she’s been through on her end as being the person to survive the attempt, but there’s also another trauma that’s created for the people unlucky enough to witness that.

And those people are Naomi and Bayley. Solana doesn’t even want to think about how terrifying that must have been for them.

Naomi, however, is the one to speak first. “You know how this life is. We see a lot. We’ve seen a lot, but that…..that was rough.”

Bayley nods, swallowing. “And not being able to see and speak to you….and Roman wasn’t the most helpful.”

That’s not surprising, though a bit discouraging. Solana knows he blames them. Feels like they failed to watch her, and while it’s on her list to talk to him about it, to try to get him to eventually let it go, to forgive them, that’s not the priority right now.

They are.

She shakes her head, explaining, “I wanted….wanted to make sure I was in a better place before you guys spoke to me again. Before….before you saw me again.”

Because the last time they saw her, she was unconscious, being wheeled out on a stretcher after almost ODing. The least Solana could do was spare them any additional unnecessary trauma.

“Are…..are you better?” Naomi is the one to ask, trepidation laced in her voice. “I mean, I know you’re here, but—”

“I am,” Solana answers in a strong voice. “I’m here, but I just….I wanted to extend my treatment because I didn't feel ready to come home just yet, but everyday I’m here, I feel myself getting stronger. I’m….I’m going to be so much better.”

Bayley reaches a comforting hand on Solana’s knee. “You even look better, Solana.” Her smile is watery as she again affirms, “we’re just happy you’re okay.”

Me too.

Solana sniffles and wipes her eyes. She then directs her attention to the gifts. “What is all of this?”

Naomi makes a sound, a squeal almost. “You know we couldn’t come see our sis empty handed.” She then rolls her eyes, pulling out two of the cards attached to the box of candy. “Jimmy and Jey asked us to give you these. They’re mad we ain’t bring them with us.”

At that, Solana’s smile drops. “They’re not with Roman?”

Naomi is visibly confused. “What do you mean?”

Solana, also confused, shifts in her seat. “Roman text me Friday night that he had to go out of town for a work situation. I guess….I thought he’d take them with him.” Knowing that Roman doesn’t have his two right hand men with him makes Solana a bit more nervous about not hearing from him, and it must show.

“Hey.” Bayley offers a reassuring smile. “This is your husband we’re talking about. Roman’s got whatever it is. If he didn’t, he would have taken the twins with him. I’m sure of it.”

“I agree,” Naomi nods, also flashing a comforting smile. “Don’t worry, okay?”

Much easier said than done, but for the sake of not wanting to sulk or spiral, Solana makes herself focus on the conversation at hand. Taking the envelopes, she opens the first one. 

It’s from Jey.

Sis,

Been praying for you and shit. Hope you doing alright, and we can’t wait till you get home. Big Dog been mean as hell with you gone. Please come save us.

Just messing with ya…..kind of.

Love you,

Jey

YEET!

His card makes her smile, laugh, and cry all in the same breath. Sniffling, she puts it back in the envelope and goes to open the next one from Jimmy, only for her, Bayley, and Naomi to jump as music starts to play. 

It’s a musical card.

I'm a survivor

I'm not gon' give up

I'm not gon' stop

I'm gon' work harder

I'm a survivor

I'm gonna make it

I will survive

Keep on survivin'

Solana slaps the card closed as no one says a thing. Both Bayley and Naomi have their hands over their mouths in complete and utter shock, Bayley being the first to speak as she slaps Naomi on the arm.

“Why would you let him get that!”

“Girl, I didn't know! His ass always ordering shit off Amazon. I thought it was a regular card!” She turns toward Solana, eyes extremely apologetic. “Solana, I am so—”

But before she can finish, Solana literally falls back against the sofa, hand also over her mouth to hold back the abundance of laughter coursing through her body. It takes everything in her to manage to speak through her fit of giggles, “you guys, it’s okay. It’s….it’s actually pretty funny.”

Because it is. It’s so Jimmy. And she knows he means no harm, that he’s probably one of the funniest, sweetest men she’s ever come across.

Even if he does seem to be able to not read the room from time to time.

Blotting the tears away from crying so hard, Solana opens the card again and starts to read, ignoring the music that’s playing.

Lil sis,

Really been missing you. Roman been miserable without you too. Ole grumpy ass even meaner than usual. He ain’t even let us come over not one time! You gotta come get your man, sis.

Naw, but in all seriousness, I miss your lil ass and really been sending you all the positive thoughts and prayers. Can’t wait till you come home.

PS) What’s the first meal back gon be?

Love,

Jimmy

Finishing the both hilarious and heartfelt message, Solana is happy to see Bayley and Naomi also displaying slightly amused expressions. Giggling, she closes the card again, silencing the music. “I told you it was kind of funny.”

“I’m still going to talk to his slow ass.”

“I told you he’s challenged.”

Solana shakes her head, reaching for their hands, squeezing gently. “I really have missed you guys.” And that’s such the goddamn truth. Despite her reservations and feeling not ready to see them, she’s so happy she pushed past all of that. 

In some sort of way, she feels like she needed this. Needed to see and speak to them again.

Needed to be around her sisters.

—-----------

Later that evening, as Solana is sitting in her room, working on a sketch she’s been playing around with since her birthday trip, her phone rings. 

She halfheartedly switches her attention to the phone, expecting maybe Bayley or Naomi. But, that’s not who it is.

It’s almost embarrassing to Solana how quickly she drops her pencil and snatches her phone, pressing the green button with unnecessary pressure. “Hello?”

Her voice is clearly as excited as she feels, because he chuckles, “hey.”

Her eyes shut, an instant relief washing over her. “Roman…..” She can’t explain how good it feels to hear his voice, to be able to talk to him. “Are you okay?” Her tone easily switches to concerned as she remembers it’s been almost three days since she last spoke to him. “Are you safe?”

“I’m fine, Sol.” She’d feel infinitely better if he was standing in front of her saying those comforting words, but he’s not, so she just has to take his word for it. “How are you?”

“Fine,” she answers without much thought, because it’s the truth. But, she also knows he needs more than that. “Bayley and Naomi came to visit me this afternoon.”

There’s a pause on the other end. A response she more or less expected. “How was it?”

Solana leans back against the headrest. “It was…..it was nice. Needed. I—I missed them.”

She can practically picture the way he turns his head and strokes his beard, as he forces out a, “if that’s what you want.”

Solana sighs. “Roman, I—I know you still blame them.”

“And, I always will.” She swallows, hating the determination in his voice. Like nothing she says will change his mind. “You can’t fault me for that.”

She can, and she can’t. She has no right to dictate how Roman feels about what happened. That’s not in her circle of control. She just wishes he didn’t have such misplaced and displaced anger. Bayley and Naomi did everything they could. They had no idea about her past struggles with suicide. That she’d attempted before, and even if they had, Solana has realized through some heavy discussions and processing in therapy that even if they tried to intervene, she still would have found a way.

She would have found some type of way to try to kill herself that night.

But, she doesn’t want to drop that on Roman, not when she knows he’s already had a lot on his mind the past few days.

“How are you feeling?” She decides to change subjects, not wanting them to spend too much time on something that’s clearly going to take a while. “You sound less….distracted.” It’s the best word that she can come up with, Solana just now recognizing that while he still sounds like he’s carrying a heavy load, it’s a load that’s maybe gotten a little lighter.

“Yeah.” His answer is awkward, distant almost. “Been….been trying to clear my head.”

She doesn’t know what exact that means or how it works when he’s in the midst of working, but if it’s helped in some weird sort of way, and it sounds like it has, she won’t push or question it. She wants desperately to ask him about who he took with him, if he ran into any trouble, if he’s scratched up at all. Essentially, all the questions to make sure he’s not physically hurt, but she also doesn't want to bombard him. Doesn’t want to do anything to take away from the almost softness of this moment. 

“Good,” she finally responds, wondering where the next thing out of her mouth comes from, because it’s certainly something she didn’t plan or anticipate. “Roman, when you—when you come visit again, can we—can we try—I mean—the doors don’t lock, but—” She hates all the stammering and stuttering, but it’s so hard to ask this when she can’t see his expression, see if he’s looking disinterested or annoyed or anything. It’s definitely something that would be better served discussed in person, and she’s annoyed that she even brought it up like this. “You know what, never mind, just—”

“Solana,” his deep voice cuts in with a chuckle that knocks her anxiety down a level or two. “Yes, if you want to.”

“I do.” There’s an almost desperation to her quick reply. A bit of embarrassment fills her and reddens her cheeks as she explains, “I know last time, I—well, you know, but this time, I’m—I’m good.”

And she knows this because in the past few days especially she’s found herself thinking about him, wanting him, almost needing him in that way. So much so that just this evening the longing was so prominent that her hand wound its way between her legs, fulfilling something Roman had once tasked her with.

But, she most definitely cannot tell him that over the phone.

Or ever.

“As long as you’re good, Sol.” The sincerity in his voice makes her smile, Solana wishing deeply she could be snuggled against his strong, protective chest right now. “You know that’s never something I’ll turn you down for. Ever”

Giggling, her voice softens as she turns to lay on her side. “Tell me something.”

“Like?”

She shrugs and remembers that he can’t see her. “Anything. I—” With an almost tenderness, she admits, “I missed the sound of your voice.”

It’s almost embarrassing to admit as such, especially as it’s barely been three days since they last spoke, but it’s just how she feels.

And Solana feels a bit better about her vulnerable admission when he shares in an equally low voice. “I miss you.”

There’s something about his tone. About his delivery. She knows he’s not referring to this work trip. He’s referring to her overall hospitalizations.

To all of it. 

“I’ll be home in a month,” she whispers. It feels like so much longer though. For him, just as much as her, she’d bet. But, it’s all she’s got. “And then I’m not going anywhere ever again.” It’s an oath to both him and herself. “I promise.”

“Good.” It sounds like there’s more he wants to say, so much more. But, he doesn’t. And while she wonders why. Again, she doesn’t push it. Doesn’t push him. Just enjoys finally being able to speak to him, to hear his voice and know that he’s okay.

Solana stays on the phone for a good almost hour when exhaustion betrays her in the form of an escapee yawn. Roman chuckles on the other end. ���It’s late. You should get some rest.”

“I’m fine,” she responds. “When will you be back here?”

“I head back tomorrow morning.” She wants to ask just where he is but decides against it. “Still want me to visit next weekend?”

“Of course.” That feels like a no brainer. “I always want to see you.” She exhales and shifts in the bed, feeling the sleep that she’s now realizing she was pushing back just to speak to him. “Maybe I will try to get some rest.” She has an early morning individual therapy session with Gail tomorrow, and they’re supposed to do some more trauma work, so she really should try to get a good night's rest.

“Good.” He genuinely sounds pleased at that. “I’ll text you when I make it back to the house.”

“Good,” she repeats with a small smile. “Goodnight, Roman.”

He seems to hesitate on the other end, an almost uncharacteristic emotion in his tone that she can’t really identify. “Night, Solana.” 

Her stomach flutters with all the butterflies that are typical whenever she’s around, with or even speaking to this man who has changed her life in so many ways. Grabbing the phone, Solana taps the end button and places her phone on the nightstand, feeling an overwhelming sense of peace and comfort. 

She moves to put away her sketchbook when a sound makes her jump a little. Looking to her left, she realizes she somehow didn’t hang up the phone and that the call is still going. Chuckling to herself, as well as the surprise that Roman also somehow missed that too, she reaches to actually and effectively end the call.

But, her stomach drops when she hears a voice. A voice that doesn’t belong to Roman.

“Was that your wife?” It’s a woman. That much is obvious, and while her tone is neither friendly nor cruel, it makes no difference because Solana is far too focused on the next thing that comes out of her mouth. “Where does she think you are anyway?”

Crushing. 

Debilitating. Suffocating. Inconceivable. The words barely touch the surface of what Solana is feeling in this moment. Feelings that are only intensified by Roman’s response.

With a quiet chuckle, he answers, almost bitterly, “working.”

The woman on the other end makes a sound that’s similar yet different from a scoff. “Don’t you think it’s time to tell her the truth? You really want to keep lyin—”

Enough.

Solana has heard enough. Reaching for the phone, she jabs her finger against the red end button and tosses it back on the bed. It’s only then she realizes that her hand is trembling, that her entire body is shaking, her breathing is uneven, and her eyes are watering.

Feeling what’s about to happen, she places her hand over her heart and closes her eyes, trying to find the safest place in her body. The anchor within her, the place that can settle or at least manage her anxiety enough so she doesn’t end up having a panic attack. It’s a longshot, but it works. Solana eventually calms down enough to where that tightness in her chest is no longer present.

But, that’s only the panic being pushed away. The hurt, oh the hurt is still there. Blaring, raging, burning pain that’s more excruciating than anything she’s felt in a long time.

He lied.

Roman lied to her. 

He’s not working.

He’s with another woman.

He’s cheating on her.

And reading in between the lines, it’s not the first time, he’s been cheating on her. Been lying to her. 

Solana’s head is racing, revisiting every moment and interaction with him.

Roman had told her from the beginning. Told her that he could and would never care about her. That she’d be nothing more than a business transaction, but she….she thought that things had changed. That they’d changed. 

That he’d changed. 

Clearly, that’s not the case, and maybe, just maybe, she should have believed him the first time around.

[naeviskz]

WHIRLWIND ๑‧˚₊ ─── HHJ

synopsis ; you overreact just a teensy bit when you see hyunjin talking to another girl, but when you find out the actual reason why … you try everything you can to make it up to him.

genre 숌 non-idol au, boyfriend!hyunjin x girlfriend!reader | established relationship

words - 3.6k tags/warnings 숌 fluff, (some) angst? pwp, smut, reader gets very jealous easily/has possessive tendencies, small mentions of insecurities, v v v clingy & needy gf, marking, dry humping, dirty talk, oral (m), lowkey daddy kink, hj has a big cawk, breeding kink cause that’s my fave tehe. i will preface that oc kinda has a toxic way of thinking and it’s def not healthy to act this way irl !!

now playing 🎧 : cool with you by newjeans, streets by doja cat

☆ 彡

[ this my first ever writing that has smut in it so bear w/ me pls ;-; i’m still learning how to do this right haha, but lmk if you enjoyed this at all <3 **not proofread btw ! ]

“Let’s go on that one next Jinnie!!” You squeal like a giddish teenager as you point to the ride up ahead, violently pulling on Hyunjin’s hand his entire arm might just fall off.

It’ll be your 1 year anniversary in approximately a week, and what better way to pre celebrate than going to the amusement park and watching fireworks at night? You haven’t been to one in years, reminiscing all those times you were a kid innocently frolicking around, not having a single care in the world. Since you’re a fully grown adult now it’s an altered experience, you’re able to pick up on social cues and no longer need parental supervision. You forgot just how thrilling it was to let loose and have fun, all while spending it with your lovely boyfriend.

The current ride you’re both getting on is essentially a giant wooden pirate ship that swings in a horizontal motion, elevating you high up in the air. You don’t do heights very well but Hyunjin’s a little daredevil who gets off on the adrenaline rush. He’s tried convincing you to do skydiving but that’s just something you refuse to compromise on. Before going on the pirate ship ride you went on the teacups, which was probably your favorite one of today. You couldn’t stop giggling and teasing Hyunjin over how incredibly fast he was spinning the turn-wheel, almost forgetting that you were also supposed to contribute. Spending quality time with your boyfriend like this means everything to you, he makes you feel like you’re floating on a pink cloud whenever you’re together. Like nothing else matters but you and him.

As the day progressed, what was once a milky, pale blue sky has now become a smoky dull atmosphere. Night was approaching any minute, making the temperature drop dramatically— you regret leaving the house in just shorts and a crop top. Your limbs shaking and trembling involuntarily from gusts of cool air the wind casually blows, Hyunjin seems to take note of this and takes action immediately.

“Want my hoodie babe?” Hyunjin asks out of concern, ready to yank it off the minute you agree.

You profusely nod at his offer, unable to withstand the frigid weather for another second. He pauses momentarily to grab the hem of his Versace sweatshirt with his free hand, swiftly drawing it over his head and handing it to you. Underneath he wore a thin plain white tee, now suffering from the cold— but any sacrifice is worthy of making for his precious babygirl.

Quickly putting it on, your body feels instantly warmer from his body heat still embedded into the soft fabric. “You saved me Jinnie, I almost turned into a human popsicle!” Were you exaggerating a bit? Maybe, but that’s beside the point. You’re all cozy now in Hyunjin’s oversized hoodie, loving the fact that only you get to wear his clothes.

His eyes shape into crescents as he flashes an adoring smile, “my diet would only consist of peach flavored ___ popsicles for the rest of my life then.”

You swear he’s just the cutest, most adorable, sweetest thing to have ever walked this earth. Sometimes you wonder how you got so lucky to end up with a person as charming, and perfect as Hyunjin. He’d say the same about you too but there’s another layer to how you feel. You’re often very over protective and territorial over him, needing to know exactly where he is at all times and who he’s hanging out with. Most of the time he’s with you, either at your place or at his. There was a set routine you two had at this point, after he’s done with work he’ll call and let you know he’s on his way to yours. Hyunjin knows how paranoid you can get when he’s gone for too long so he makes sure to communicate with you as much as he can throughout the day. It’s hard to deal with someone as high maintenance as you but he makes it work, he likes that you’re always worried and concerned about him — he’d rather have a girlfriend like that than one who doesn’t care about him.

“Looks like the sun should be setting soon.. won’t be much longer ‘til the fireworks start!” You cheer out of excitement, part of the reason you wanted to come was to see them.

He nods in agreement, “you’re right, is there anything else you wanna ride before they start?”

As if your brain answered before you could even think, “You.”

His doe eyes widened at your bold reply, never quite getting used to your subtle dirty mind. “I’ll give you that in due time, don’t worry mamas.”

A little bit later on you challenged Hyunjin to try the ‘test your strength’ game and of course he couldn’t pass up a moment to impress you. He gets into a competitive sports stance, gripping the hammer tightly before he swung hard at the puck. The meter flew straight up and hit the bell on his first try, able to win whatever prize he wanted from the largest section. He lets you choose whichever plushy you wanted, a giant fluffy pink stuffed unicorn that you held in your other hand that wasn’t occupied with Hyunjin’s.

“Hyunjinnieee, ‘m getting kinda hungry,” you childishly whine in hopes of getting him to buy you both food.

Before he could even get a response out your eyes were already fixated on something. The glowing neon lights of a food stand selling mozzarella corn dogs, you’ve always wanted to try those as you see them all the time on TikTok. Without hesitation you make a mad dash for the line as you drag your innocent boyfriend along for the adventure. As you got closer you realize the lines pretty spread out, there was at least 20+ people waiting but you were willing to stay as you really wanted one.

Hyunjin detaches his hand from yours, making you question his sudden intentions, “be right back babe, m’gonna go to the restroom.” He politely excuses himself, “here’s my card just in case I don’t make it back in time.” Pulling his credit card from his wallet to hand you before venturing off.

“Don’t be gone for too long please, or else I’ll come find you myself.” You were dead serious too, honestly speaking you didn’t necessarily want him out of your sight but you trust that he’ll come back in a reasonable amount of time. Hopefully.

“I promise babe.” He reassures, giving a quick peck to your forehead before vanishing into the crowd.

After what seemed like an eternity, you manage to secure the corn dogs and pay for them with Hyunjin’s card. Realizing now that your boyfriend is still gone, it’s been a good 15-20 minutes and he promised that he’d be back. Now you have to go looking for him like a mother who’s just lost their child. Scanning every area of the park you came across, you begin to feel anxious when you don’t see him anywhere. A range of negative thoughts intrude your mind with possibilities of where he could’ve gone. What you weren’t expecting was for your intuition to be exactly spot on.

There he was standing in front a taco truck, talking and laughing with another girl. A girl you absolutely do not recognize and have no clue why or what she’s doing even having a conversation with your man. You couldn’t move at all, frozen in place as you watched the scene fold out in front of you, making you more livid as it continues. The mystery girl was pissing you off by the minute, the tiny skirt she wore barely left anything to the imagination and her body language was way too close for comfort for your liking. You had to put a stop to this immediately.

Slowly you make your way up to them, examining the situation further. The blonde girl tries to loom even closer to Hyunjin but he backs away a bit, a sheer look of fear and paranoia in his eyes. She keeps talking to him but he doesn’t really say much back, only half smiling and nodding. What makes you pick up your pace at lightning speed was when he pulls his phone out from his back pocket, as if he’s about to ask for her number.

You’ve seen enough, it’s time to intervene now.

Practically sprinting up to them you see the girl perk up when she sees you, giving a friendly wave and inviting smile as if she wasn’t just trying to steal your man a second ago. You’re ready to rip this bitches hair out and show her that she’s picked the wrong one to mess with today.

“Oh hi, you must be ___, it’s so good to finally meet you!” Her voice was so squeaky and high-pitched, not even in a cute way, just obnoxiously loud and annoying.

…How the fuck does this girl know who you are?

“Who the hell is this?” You snap at Hyunjin, completely ignoring the girl’s presence, “How does she know you?”

“I’m— ”

“I believe I asked my boyfriend, not you. Who is she?” You rudely cut her off to reiterate the question.

Hyunjin looks like he’s just witnessed a murder, his own murder to be exact. “This is Valerie, we went to high school together, I was just showing her your freelance work and all the cool designs you make ‘cause she’s looking for graphic designers and I think you’re really talented babe.”

Your heart just sank to the pit of your stomach. The balled up fist your right hand was clenching soon released itself, no longer in fight mode but flight mode from the sudden embarrassment you’re internally battling.

“Oh..”

“Uh, well it was nice talking to you Hyunjin! I’ll go find my husband now, but your graphics are incredible ___ and I’d love to hire you for a couple projects I have lined up. Here’s my business card!” She hands you the flimsy card stock and leaves in an instant.

Now you feel totally ridiculous for almost causing a scene and cursing out the girl and your boyfriend for just wanting to promote your work. You owe him an apology big time.

“I thought you were…”

“Flirting with another girl, seriously? You think I have a death wish or something? Of course I’d never try something like that. The first thing she saw was you as my lock screen when I checked the time. Plus she’s married, I don’t think she’d be that dumb.” Hyunjin further proves his case, making sure not to leave any details out.

“M’sorry baby, please forgive me.” You plead for forgiveness, regressing back to your softer, more gentle side “lemme make it up to you daddy.”

“Nngh! Hyunjin-” you keen into his ear as you rub your clothed heat against his toned thigh, holding onto him for stable support.

You seriously felt bad for acting out like that earlier, all you want to do now is make him feel so good he forgets all about your previous unhinged behavior. Lord knows what you’d do if you ever lose someone so important to you. You can’t think about that right now though. Right now was all about him and making him feel good, but you can’t help but get something out of it as well.

The backseat of his car was a bit cramped as he decided to take his smaller convertible instead of the SUV, not exactly bargaining that later on you’d be getting freaky in his vehicle. Nonetheless you enjoy each other’s company, not needing much space anyway — if anything you wanted to be as close to him as possible. If you could get inside his skin you probably would. You love Hyunjin more than yourself, often feeling like you aren’t good enough to be with him. Maybe the reason you’re so protective and jealous is because you fear he’ll leave you for someone better.

Lazily trailing your lips down further, placing small pecks here and there until you land on his neck, adorned with a dainty silver chain, nuzzling your face into the crook of it. He smells so good, the cologne he’s wearing along with his natural pheromones is an intoxicating concoction. You stick your tongue out, gliding the wet muscle over his bare skin, still feverishly rutting into him while listening to his ethereal moans.

“Mmm.. I love you.” He murmurs under his breath, slipping his hands underneath (his) your hoodie to feel you up. His hands travel upwards to find the valley of your breasts, still covered by the bra you’re wearing he slides underneath the cups to lightly squeeze them.

You nibble on his neck in response, harshly sucking on the flesh to leave visible love bites, you want to make it abundantly clear to the whole world Hwang Hyunjin belongs to you.

“I love you more Hyunjinnie,” you stop for a brief moment to say, “gonna prove it.” Which you will once you’re satisfied with marking his entire neck and chest with dozens of purple and red hickeys.

Even though he’s touching you, grinding his hard length into you and purring out your name, you need more. Craving to see and feel more of him, you tug at the hem of his t-shirt in hopes he catches your drift.

“Off. Now.” You demand sharply, getting more impatient by the second.

He obliges instantly, stripping the garment off his body to reveal the most gorgeous set of abs you’ve laid your eyes upon, he’s so unreal it makes you constantly question if you’re dreaming. You went from his neck to kissing his plump lips, his hand cupping the side of your face to deepen the kiss, both so desperate and horny for each other. Running your manicured hands down his beautiful body, just the tiniest flexing Hyunjin does with his muscles makes you go crazy. You need him to manhandle you, have you bent over and get fucked senselessly.

“Lie back Jinnie, m’gonna suck you off.” You command him to move, getting up from him so he can pivot into a more comfortable position.

He shuffles around, leaning into the leather seat before quickly undoing his pants and sliding them down his ankles. You get on your knees, disappearing between his legs to come in contact with his stiff erection. Tracing figure eights on his thighs, he hisses from your delicate touch. You couldn’t resist planting a chaste kiss to his stomach, leaving another wet kiss to his v-line. Any little touch makes Hyunjin’s heart beat out of his chest, he can’t get enough of you just as you can’t of him— high off each other like an addictive, psychoactive drug.

As you finally free his cock from the last barrier, his boxer briefs, you’re in awe from just how much precum he’s leaking already. His length stood straight up resting on his stomach, faint veins protruding around the shaft. You kiss his pretty pink tip while looking up at him with innocent eyes, grabbing the base of his cock, opening your mouth just a little to provide a few kitten licks. You’ve only just started but he feels like he’s going to come undone already.

“Shit-” he lowly grunts, feeling his cock pulsate in your tiny hand.

Taking him further in your mouth now, you manage to fit half of his length, bobbing your head up and down while keeping a tight suction on his cock. Hyunjin involuntarily rocks his hips into you, making you gag just a little from how big he is. You could never fit all of him (except for that one time you were super drunk and magically forgot what a gag reflex was) but you still try your best and that’s all that matters to him. He loves that you’re always willing to give him random blowjobs whenever and wherever, you both love public sex and the idea of possibly being caught. You take a short break to collect more saliva, spitting on his cock and spreading it with your hand to make it even messier. His mouth was permanently agape, staring down at you with lust filled eyes, not knowing how much longer he can last. When you start pumping his cock much faster along with swirling your tongue around it , he thinks he might just lose it. Panting heavily, he shifts underneath you in attempt to get you to stop but you keep sucking like the cock hungry slut you are for him. He’s seriously going to nut any minute if you continue at this rate.

“Babe.. you’re gonna make me cum if you keep this up…” he closes his eyes, almost giving in to what’s inevitably about to come.

“Isn’t that the goal?” You ask quickly before going back.

“No,” he says, slightly frustrated with you for not obeying, “fucking this tight little pussy is.”

You’re confused when he’s pulling you away from him, moving you from the floor and back onto his lap all in one swift action, manhandling you for real this time. “What’re you doing!” You raise your voice at him like a brat, to which he spanks your behind in response.

“Shh.. relax.” He shuts you up by pulling you in for a slow, sensual kiss.

You moan into his mouth, melting right into his touch like always. “Need you so bad please..” you whine for to feel more of him.

“Tell me what you need, I’ll give it to you baby.” He promises, lacing his fingers in your hair, looking at you with pure admiration.

“Your cock.. need your big fat cock inside me now,” you beg like a good girl, “please daddy, i’m literally soaking for you.” Shameless at this point with how you talk, but you know the dirtier you get the more Hyunjin likes it.

He can’t say no when you ask so polite that. “I’ll give it to you, I’ll give you whatever you want princess.”

And he does.

Once he rids you of your shorts and underwear, you’re back on top of him, lining yourself up with his thick cock that slides right in from you being so ready.

“Fuck you’re so wet baby.. you take this cock so well cutie,” he praises you in the hottest way possible. You’ll never get tired of hearing him talk like this to you, hence why you love to have sex so much.

“Only for you daddy.” You breathlessly spoke, getting used to his length for a moment before beginning to move. Slowly bouncing up and down his member at first until Hyunjin slams his cock into you, walls clenching as you feel every inch of him. You shifted from grinding on him in slow motion to picking up your speed, placing both hands around his neck. Hyunjin throws his head back in pleasure, wrapping his hand around your waist as the other grips the soft flesh of your ass.

“Mine… your cock is mine,” you’re going faster and faster, crying out as he matches your movements, thrusting back into you hard. “Only I get to ride this everyday.”

He doesn’t hesitate to agree, letting you know exactly who he belongs to. “I’m all yours babygirl, can have this cock as much as you want, use me to get yourself off..”

You feel like you’re about to come soon, legs shaking and spasming from his girth splitting you open. “Yes baby..” you couldn’t think straight anymore, “love your cock so much Jinnie..” You mewl from being so full and cockstuffed “mmph.. wanna have your babies.”

“Yeah? Want me to fill your little cunt with all my cum and get you pregnant, hmm ? That what you want pretty girl?” He sounded so pussy drunk he couldn’t even blame you for wanting to any of this.

One more thrust was all it took for the thread to unravel inside of you, seeing white, glowing stars as you get closer to your orgasm.

“Jinnie kiss me.”

He does as he’s told, grabbing your face to kiss you roughly, entering his tongue in your mouth to intertwine with yours. He’s so good at everything he does it’s insane. Maybe if the dick wasn’t so damn good you wouldn’t be half as crazy.

“I’m so close princess..” he announces, slipping one of his long, slender digits onto your clit, coaxing your release.

“Me too.”

Everything feels ultra sensitive to you as you approach your climax, whimpering as Hyunjin sucks on your perked nipples while you continue riding him. A sudden rambunctious crackling sound startles the both of you, but what you weren’t expecting to see outside were fireworks lighting up the night sky. You’d completely forgot how excited you were to see them, watching in amazement as all the vibrant colors morph together. Leaning in to tenderly kiss your boyfriend who was also momentarily distracted, you get back right to business, chasing after your highs. Hyunjin finishes inside you like you wanted, feeling his hot seed spill into your aching heat. You came undone shortly after, holding onto him while your bare chests collide. Fireworks detonate inside your body as they do outside.

As if the universe had orchestrated the perfect 1 year anniversary pre celebration just for the two of you; a perfect moment to seal your love with the glittering magic of romance and fireworks combined. Hyunjin’s so happy to have met someone like you, someone who loves him so passionately and so deeply. He may not understand why you think the way you do sometimes, or react with such brash methods, but he knows that you do it out of pure love. It’s a whirlwind of emotions dating you but he wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world or have it any other way.

- 完 ♡︎

[spideyhexx]

coryo with a obsessive reader who matches his energy but more subtly, leading him to believe he has all the power when in reality she’s playing him the same way

IVE THOUGHT ABOUT THIS AND I LOVE IT!

I do like thinking about this with the whole arranged marriage prospect because like, im imagining your family is very high up in the capitol and while coriolanus would be considered below you, you’re smart enough to recognize his influence and drive for power that you decide he’d be the perfect person to marry.

Cause if you don’t marry him, wouldn’t he just be competition?

So you set little seeds, make sure he's aware of your status and aware that you're a challenge to him, not a person to be messed with or fall onto your knees for him with ease.

And through this process, you do become obsessed with him. You love the way he takes what he wants the same way you do. But at the same time, you're not gonna let him easily have you.

I think he would eventually try to charm his way into your life long after you've already set your eyes on him. You let him think he's got the upper-hand, falling for his swooning confidence (for real or fake, you're not sure). I think your feelings would start to betray you as you do genuinely fall for him, but you're also able to set them aside for the time being. Power is number one to Coryo, but it is for you too. All you focus on is making sure Coryo falls for you enough to propose. And you do this by just simply being yourself. You don't hide the fact that you're strong, opinionated and have more power than a lot of your fellow classmates, but you don't brag. You make sure to tease Coryo, catching on to the fact that playful banter is the only thing that gets him red in the cheeks.

Then there’s also times you see other girls flirt with him and you feel so jealous, you need to leave before you make yourself obvious.

And I honestly think he'd fall right into the trap. Coriolanus would be aware you're more intelligent than some of the other girls in the capitol that he can pursue and he likes that. He likes the way you challenge his thoughts in class. Coryo has witnessed you using your power over others and it's sick and vile, but that's what he decides he wants.

He wants to be able to tell the world he was the one who gets you all to himself and have some sort of power over you.

Maybe a relationship with him progresses to the point you take him to meet your parents and your father says something about finally bringing the Snow boy to the penthouse after all this time talking about wanting him for yourself.

Coriolanus feels it click a little in his head that you've been planning this precise moment for longer than he's been pursuing you. He knows he should feel mad or rather weak at the fact you've done this, but he doesn't.

Coryo is enamored. so much that he asks your father that very night for permission to propose.

let's chat about coryo, here :)

[velvetvexations]

Can confirm I've been on here for years now and before Gamer Gate and then the rebirth of Terfism happened the widely accepted feminist talking point was that men suffer under the patriarchy and how we need to talk about that because one of the fastest ways to get cis men on our side was to show them we were already on their side!

I remeber posts with hundreds of thousands of notes talking about how men are assumed to be worse caregivers than women to the point that in custody battles even if the mother is beyond a shadow of a doubt the worst abusive mess ever and the dad is the embodiment of a perfect parent the kids will end up with the mom. It doesn't even matter if the dad says he wants the kids and the mom says she doesn't, the women still gets assumed to be the better caretaker!! This is misogyny effecting men!!

And I know MRAs are terrible but I remember a video going around talking about their recruitment points, like how more men die doing dangerous jobs and the draft or men getting no help when they've been abused by women and being assumed to be violent predators even when they haven't done anything and like yeah, they 100% came to the wrong conclusions about what causes the problems and what the solutions are bcs it's easier to act like women are the problem, but those problems as they were introduced in the early 2010s were actual problems feminism is trying to address, and if these men could see that we are fighting the same fights and join US we'd be stronger. There was a prominent internet feminist who got full on red pilled just by listening to men tell her about their real actual problems, and the time they pulled the rug out on blaming women it was too late, she was convinced, because yeah women aren't the real problem at the root of men's issues they do HAVE ISSUES. The trick is that they just need to tackle the patriarchy, not women. I also saw stuff that legit talked about how to recruit men by pointing out how badly the patriarchy "serves" them!! (GamerGate quickly ruined any and all salient points that existed in the MRA movement bcs the internet is a feedback loop and anger is easy/fun sadly but yeah I feel like it's weird to act like they were always wrong no matter what when they at least did point out real problems.)

And like RBG partially made her name in the courts defending a CIS MAN on the basis that he was being discriminated in a way a CIS WOMAN would not have been, and the ruling allowed for insane amounts of progress for women. A man not being allowed a tax credit to hire a nurse for his bedridden mother is one of the first things that challenged discrimination on the basis of sex in America. But sure men ONLY gain benefits from the patriarchy. It NEVER hurts them too!! And helping them won't benefit us!!! Making them our allies is silly they should all shut up 🙄

Hell back in the 2010s I still remember seeing trans men talk about how horrible and alienating it was for all of their female friends and family to suddenly start acting like they were a threat, and not just pointing out the inherent transphobia, the guy went on to talk about that they finally get why cis men are the way they are, they suffer from systemic emotional neglect. And yeah that obviously does not mean women owe them emotional avaliablity and sex, but maybe the patriarchy telling men to be big tuff guys who never hug or cry or like anything even a little girly HURTS THEM and is a direct cause of a LOT of the problems we're dealing with rn!!! There was a whole study about how widows tend to live a lot longer after their husbands because they have friends and family to lean on and weren't taught to suppress their emotions, meanwhile widowers tend to die VERY quickly after their wives because they no longer have someone who it's okay for them to be open and emotional around, and not having someone you can do that with KILLS PEOPLE. People were saying again, this does not mean women HAVE to take on all their problems, but maybe that we need to stop assuming men don't need emotional support and teach our sons to not be afraid of being ulnerable, honest people because systemic emotional neglect IS BAD FOR YOU ACTUALLY.

These were ACTUAL conversations that swept this damn site. This was the direction feminism was going in. We were on the cusp of a beautiful age of 4th wave feminism with the knowledge that the patriarchy seves no one well and free the nipple and no gender segregated bathrooms and sports, and now just pointing out that we need to maybe understand the ways men struggle under the patriarchy if we've ever going to have them join and help us build a better world gets my inbox flooded with both terfs and so called progressive feminists calling me a gender traitor for being willing to admit men arent the source of all the world's ills and WE NEED THEM ON OUR FUCKING SIDE. I used to proudly call myself a 4th wave feminist back when people still claimed to be of the 3rd, and now idk what I even am. A bell hooks and leslie finberg feminist I guess, since they actually seemed to get it.

Yeesh. Anyway sorry that got heated. This has just ruined my brain. I do not understand where tf we went wrong, bcs hell back in the day we also pointed out how TERFs were wrong to want men and people they perceive as men and those "tainted" by men put to death for existing so they could build their stupid white supremacist wombyn utopia. We KNEW hating men just for being men was wrong and regressive and hurt maringalized men and did NOTHONG to push feminism forward. We talked about the issues that men face and how to raise our sons to be better. But idk I guess Gamer Gate and the Incel movement took off right as TREFs figured out the whole ace and truscum discourse thing wasn't working and they just needed to doctor their arguments against men better and radical feminism took off and this entire site regressed 1000 years and thinks trans men of all people are just as bad as cis men and trans women have a monopoly on an entire axis of oppression like?????

And I'm not putting the blame squarely on anyone aside from the radfems who started this shit but it does NOT surprise me that we are seeing a massive resurgence of biphobic, transmedicalism, and aphobia since half the queer discourse I see these days is anti-transandrophpbia assholes just word for word repeating the kind of blatant aphobia and truscumery that would have gotten you suplexed off the face of the earth in the 2010s with the identities swapped. Just word for word monosexist aphobic shit. Legit is giving me flashbacks, it's insane.

I have never in my life been more disappointed in my community of queer feminists. This is masks all over again. Like is this how kids who grew up evangelical feel when they realized actually the adults didn't mean literally love all your neighbors silly just the Correct ones?? I feel like I'm in the twilight zone. What the hell happened to us.

Thank you for writing all this anon, you put enough work in it I'm gonna toss it in the tags, I think it deserves to be seen. <3

The problem with MRAs was never that they believed men had problems too, but that they used certain things - like their disadvantage in custody hearings, for instance - as a cudgel in a malicious crusade against a target they hated anyway for not fucking them. Now with as quick as people are to say things like "what, are you saying androphobia exists too?????" it feels as though we've completely forgotten the actual reason we ever hated MRAs to begin with.

It's the same with the dating article where the most basic possible interactions between two adults mutually seeking a hook-up were taken to be pick-up artistry.

[spooklies]

# Settle (18+) - Yan!Leon x F!Reader

♡ ... › Tonight was different from the other restless nights he’s had so far.

— Words - 800+

♡ ... › Warning(s) - Somnophilia. Reader doesn't know Leon is doing this. Leon a freak in this one ngl.

Leon had woken up that night with sweat covering his body and his chest rising in an up and down pattern. He fisted the front of his shirt into a ball and turned his head on the pillow so he was facing you and upon seeing that you were still there and that you hadn’t gone anywhere his muscles relaxed and he was able to take in bigger swallows of air. 

This routine of waking up at night and then being unable to go back to sleep had started about a week ago and as the days progressed it was gradually getting worse with tonight reaching new feats. He’d never woken up as sweaty or restless as he is now but now that he had he knew it wouldn’t be possible to just shut his eyes and fall back into a dreamless slumber. The soft hum of the fan mixed with the soft breaths of air you took and he noted that it made you appear smaller than you were – peacefully and blissfully unaware of your boyfriend’s disheveled state. He knows that if he stared for too long you’d grow shy and get embarrassed. But when you were like this, unconscious and at your most relaxed state, he was free to stare as long as he pleased – eagerly taking in every detail of your face like he’s done every night his sleep went interrupted.

But he knows he should at least attempt to go back to sleep. Waking up later in the day never made him feel good, especially after getting used to waking up at the crack of dawn when he was training under the government. Leon exhaled out his nose and wrapped an arm around your waist and then pulled you closer. You made a quiet noise at his embrace and turned the other way so your back was facing him instead. Leon was worried momentarily that he had possibly disturbed your slumber until you pressed your ass against his crotch and shifted in a way to indicate you were getting comfortable. It was like you were drilling yourself onto him. The muscles in Leon’s arms strained as he withheld himself from moving, the sweat that dripped down the sides of his face growing colder with each passing minute. He knows you weren’t trying to purposely turn him on but now that you had Leon was now rapidly growing restless in an entirely different kind of way. 

His arm which was still around your waist as gently as it could pulled you further toward his chest so you were also pressed more firmly against his crotch. Leon’s breath hitched when his lower half was fully encompassed by the heat of your body and without initially meaning to his hips moved against his will and rutted against your ass shamelessly a few times before finding that momentum he eased into. At this point he was moving on instinct, every fiber of his being flaring up with lust and urging his body to keep at that same pace that made his cock ache for more. The further this went on the more desperate Leon grew, a whimper slipped past his lips that had his heart beating even faster.

He didn’t want to wake you up, he doesn’t know how you would react to seeing him this way. Would you shove him away? Yell at him? Call him names? Or maybe, just maybe, you’d help him with this situation you caused. Just imagining it forced Leon to take the collar of his shirt and tuck it between his teeth so the noises he could no longer contain weren’t so loud. God, he loved you. You wouldn’t be mad, no, you were never mad at him for long because he was your good boy. He loved it when you called him that, it made his stomach coil with heat and his fingers twitch with the urge to grab you and never let go. You were perfect. You were amazing–

Leon’s hand drifted down to your plush hips and eagerly grabbed onto them so his thrusts weren’t as sloppy and instead more controlled. It didn’t take too long after that, his balls hot and heavy and straining the moment he imagined you waking up and seeing what you did to him – what you made him do. He wanted you to wake up at this point, to see him pathetically humping your clothed ass and reaching his climax from that alone and how much of a mess he made inside his boxer briefs. 

He bit down harder into his shirt, saliva darkening the front half as he drooled all over himself and his clothes. His cock twitched a few more times as he finished emptying his balls, his shirt falling from his mouth with a soft gasp and leaving a trail of saliva as it dropped back onto his chest. You didn’t wake up despite everything he’d just done and at that, he felt relieved. But perhaps another night he won’t be as lucky.

[lokideservesahug]

Always that good?

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-Pairings: Charles Leclerc x gn! (I think) reader, Arthur Leclerc x reader (platonic)

Warnings: Swearing some French but I didn't use translate so it's probably all wrong. One mention of 'the deed' but it's brief. Brief mentions of drinking/being tipsy. I'm sorry if you have a pizza/garlic bread allergy😔

Notes: Its white fast paced and I'm not as happy with this peice as I have been wit others but here we go... 1/4 SMAU 3/4 writing so sorry if that's not your thing. Also I don't think I wrote this with anything gender specific but pls tell me if it isn't gender neutral!

Summary: You've been best friends with Arthur for over a year now... so why does his brother look so good?

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

For a man who supposedly strictly sticks to his diet, Charles was all to eager to get his hands on the greasy concoctions you brought with you. He also didn't seem to dislike spending the evening as just the two of you. Neither did you but part of that was because the garlic bread was to die for.

As the night progressed, the Monagasque brought some beers from the Arthur's fridge. Despite you chastising him for stealing from his brother, Charles said that his brother wouldn't care and the beers could always be replaced. So, the two of you began to drink some beer along with your dinner. At some point along the way, the television was turned on but you weren't paying attention to it at all. All you could focus on was Charles. The way his eyelashes fluttered to a close as he took another sip; the way his addams apple bobbed slightly at the same time.

If you could get away with it, you would would stare into his eyes forever. They were captivating. The same man you were admiring then begins to break the silence by starting up conversation.

"This is very nice pizza. Where is it from?" "The pizza parlour just down the road, they've only just stared allowing people to take meals to go though." You see him nod in understanding at your words.

Before you can find yourself staring at him any longer and risking making it wierd, you turn your attention towards the television. As the programme changes, you find yourself gasping. You can almost feel the man next to you giving you a curious look but as the title to your favourite television show comes on screen, he laughs in understanding.

This pulls your attention back to him and you ask "What?" He doesn't even miss a beat before he replies "Nothing. You're just endearing" he finishes the remark with a smile. You can feel your cheeks heat as you respond "Sorry. It's my favourite show" this pulls a laugh out of him. "No need to apologise chérie and like I said, it's sweet."

This causes you to look down. You turn and face the television but continue to speak to the man next to you. You occasionally turn to him whilst speaking. "It's been a very long time since I've seen this. Arthur pays for different channels to me and with everything these days, the rights shows are always swapping between people and channels."

You didn't catch Charles' smile drop but you did notice his slightly deflated sounding tone "I'm surprised you dont live with him then." This causes you to pause. I mean yeah Arthur's your best friend but that doesn't mean you should live together- especially not with your difference in music tastes. You'd probably strangle him for listening to the same, boring, simple songs for hours on end before you could even finish the first week of living together.

"Hm? Why would I do that" Your enquiry causes his brows to furrow and he asks "Oh. Are you not at that stage in your relationship yet." Relationship? What does he-? Oh no...Oh no... Oh no.

You simultaneously visibly deflate and start laughing after his words sink in. Charles, who clearly finds it nowhere near as funny asks "What. Why are you laughing?"

"You- you" Unable to finish your sentence without it ending in a fit of cackles, you laughing some more, take some deep breaths and clarify the source of your amusement. "Charles, Arthur and I aren't dating. You know that right?" His lips form an 'O' and he looks down almost embarrassed as he shakes his head.

"But I've heard you saying that you ahd a thing for a Lecle-" He stops and grins as you both come to the realisation of what he's saying. Now it's your turn to look down in embarrassment and his to start laughing.

"Shut up." Your words clearly hold no weight and when you find him looking at you, eyes gleaming. You find yourself falling for him even more.

"So Chérie...you have a thing for Leclercs?" His eyebrows wiggle and when you both split into bursts of laughter, you could tell have dreamed of a better way to spend your evening.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

Thank you for reading! As always, likes, reblogs and especially feedback is always welcome!

Also my inbox is open if you ever have a request!

Taglist: @nikfigueiredo @mysoulispainted @leclercings @d3kstar @hiireadstuff @a-beaverhausen @nichmeddar @lozzamez3 @stinkyjax @marymustdie @littlesatanicassholebitch @mehrmonga @insanedeathwish @ems-alexandra @a-disturbing-self-reflection @cherry-piee

[jsbluu]

left on seen | chapter 15: two to one (to two)

➨ chapter 14: she said yes! | left on seen masterlist | next

➨ chapter 15! it’s getting cray.. so many things happening.. what’s going on.. also progress guys..

TAGLIST: @ldh0000 @bococostree @sunghoonsgfreal @dinonuguaegi @ddolbyong @4chensungs @vixensss @jirsungs @luffysprincess @nosungluv @akunoeyebrows @sinsgaybutthatsokay @joyzluvr @n0hyuck @mrsbyun-baek @queenrachelpink @botchedbrat @livingdoll-hara @minkyuncutie @gomdoleemyson @17ericas

you sat across from leehan in a restaurant that was way too fancy for your own comfort, but he was way too nice to pass up the offer. you nervously play with the hem of your top, any much longer and you would’ve ripped the lace. you could tell you weren’t the only nervous one, as leehan fidgeted with the menu, seemingly pretending to read it for the 100th time.

he cleared his throat in an attempt to break the silence between you two. “so, have you ever been here before?” he asked, almost immediately regretting the cliche question.

you shake your head, “no, this is my first time actually. i’ve never even heard of this place before.” you smile, “have you?”

“only twice, i actually came with mark a few months ago after he played a show.” he replies.

you tilt your head in confusion, “that show we went to a few weeks ago wasn’t his first?”

he shakes his head and takes a sip of his water before replying. “no, he’s been doing this since freshmen year actually. he wasn’t really getting anywhere and wanted to quit but jisung was the one who changed his mind, and look at him now.”

you can’t help but smile to yourself when you learn how sweet jisung really is. even though he was so quiet and shy, his friends clearly meant everything to him and you admired that more than you could admit.

just as you two started to ease into a comfortable conversation, the server approached with your food in hand. “here you are!” she said as the placed the plates of food in front of you two.

“let me know if you need anyth-“ before she could finish, her hand hit leehan’s cup of water causing it to spill all over his shirt and pants. your eyes widen and your hands cover your mouth as the server profusely apologizes.

“i’m so sorry!!” she exclaimed, horrified as she hands leehan paper towels from her pockets.

he stands up and laughs a bit before looking at you defeated, his hands on his hips as he looks down at his soaked outfit. “are you okay?” you ask concerned.

he sighs, trying to maintain his composure and hold his embarrassment in the best he could and pretend like the entire restaurant wasn’t staring at you two. “i’m okay, just a little.. wet” he says with a small smile. “i think i need to go change, i only live 5 minutes away. do you mind?”

you shake your head, “of course not! go change, i’ll be here” you reassure, feeling a mixture of sympathy and awkwardness.

he gives you an apologetic nod and he quickly leaves the restaurant and jogs his way towards his dorm. you sit back awkwardly against the booth as you wait for him to return.

you sigh and put your phone down on the table, staring at the 2 full plates of food in front of you. the tension and anxiety only increasing by the moment, now it really looks like you got stood up. you debated asking gaon to come to the restaurant to eat, but you knew he was busy and by the time he would get there, it would already be too late.

“y/n?” a voice calls from the left of you. you look up and see jisung standing beside you, his hands in his pockets concealing them from the cold weather outside.

“jisung? how did you..” you ask, genuinely concerned.

“i didn’t know you were here i swear! i came to eat alone, and i saw you sitting with.. wait where’s leehan?” he says as he points to the empty seat in front of you.

you sigh before turning back to jisung, awkwardly shifting in your seat. “our server accidentally spilled some water on him, so he said he’d was gonna go back to the dorms to change real quick. but then he said he said he got on the wrong train so now i’m.. here alone”

“again?” he asks, holding back a laugh through puffed cheeks.

you look at him confused, what did he mean by that?. had this happened before? or was this just an excuse to leave you alone in the restaurant. it’s not like you cared that much, this was a friendly date after all. at least that’s what you were hoping he would think.

“what do you mean ‘again?’”

he lets out a small awkward laugh when he realizes it wasn’t as funny to you as he thought it was. he knows you’re a shy person as well, so being in this situation was definitely not fun for you.

“he’s gotten on the wrong train i don’t know how many times before.. it gives me second hand embarrassment honestly” he jokes, trying to ease the tension that he created.

your shoulders relax again as jisung’s explains what he meant, leehan was truely just that clumsy.

an awkward silence fills the space between you two, jisung’s hands tucked back into his pockets as he shifts his weight back and forth between his feet.

“are you gonna stay here alone..?” he asks breaking the silence, his brow furrowed and voice raised with concern.

you shrug, fidgeting with your napkin and moving your gaze from him to the table. “i guess so” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

jisung’s eyes linger on you before taking a deep breath, hesitantly speaking. “i could keep you company..”

you pause, looking up at him unsure as you bite your bottom lip. it wouldn’t be wrong, right? i mean leehan did leave you here alone, and it’s not like you were interested in him romantically. besides, it’s not even a date, he’s just sitting with you, that’s all.

“i- are you sure? you really don’t have to.” you reply quietly, shaking your head.

his face falls but he quickly recovers before replying. “i’d feel bad making you sit here alone.” he reassures.

you give him a small smile before nodding, “okay.”

he gives you a small smile before sitting in leehan’s spot, luckily the food was still warm somehow. it took a while but you two eventually got over the awkward tension and were able to have an actual conversation, much different than the ones you’ve had before. this time you didn’t have anybody interrupting you or getting in the way.

the restaurant eventually started to empty out, and only then had you realized how late it had gotten. you glanced down at your phone and read the time, 9:56. jisung noticed the time as well and laughed quietly “it’s already gonna be 10, i didn’t realize we lost track of time”

you nodded, feeling reluctant for the night to end. “yeah, i guess we did.”

you hesitated for a moment before taking a deep breath and speaking. “thank you for keeping me company, i’m definitely not going to go on another date with him again.” you giggle.

he laughs back and shakes his head, silently grateful that whatever was going on between you and leehan was pretty much over. “don’t worry, i didn’t mind.”

he looked down at the table before looking up at you with an unreadable expression.

“can i have your number?”

© jsbluu | please do not copy, reupload, or translate my work.

[soul-controller]

Together Forever

As Ryan Sullivan entered his bathroom to have one last look at himself before heading out to a local beach, the 18-year-old and recent high school graduate couldn’t resist smirking upon seeing his own reflection. Standing there in just a pair of swim shorts, the man’s well-defined physique was on full display. Surely with a bod like this, every chick is gonna want their hands all over me, he thought to himself.

Upon pulling his phone from his shorts to take some photos of his progress, the man found a brand new text message from his ex-girlfriend Becca waiting for him. “Hey, I’m outside your house. Please talk to me, I’ll be quick I promise,” the message said, which immediately caused Ryan to chuckle and roll his eyes at the girl’s desperation.

Just over a week ago, Ryan spent an entire night smoking weed with his best friends and thinking about his future. Given the fact that he was just a few months away from moving to the opposite side of the country to go play soccer at a major university, it seemed as though Ryan was being offered the opportunity to get a completely fresh start to his life. No longer would he be an athlete living in a small-town with nothing exciting occurring and practically no attractive women around him. Once he made the move to California, he would be a total hunk living in a big city that would surely keep life interesting (especially with a sudden influx of aspiring models eager to get with him). As such, he quickly realized that being tied down to some high school relationship was a waste of time and a piss-poor decision for his sex life given the long distance that they would have to adapt to. So in his impaired state, Ryan stumbled through his words before eventually sending off a to-the-point and brutal text that broke up his 5-year-long relationship with Becca without a hint of remorse.

For several days since sending that text, Ryan found his phone constantly blowing up with texts and DMs from the shunned woman who begged to have a civil conversation so she could gain closure and they could terminate the relationship like the adults they were on their way to becoming. Although she continually stated that she thought that they would “be together forever”, she wasn’t furious and remained quite level-headed throughout the various messages she sent. But the hunk refused to ever respond to the girl’s messages, instead taking screenshots of the messages and sending them off to his friends while framing the messages as a display of how desperate and pathetic she was. Of course, Ryan’s friends weren’t respectful of the couple’s privacy in the slightest, so they continued to pass along the messages to others until practically everyone in their graduating class knew about the breakup and Becca’s pleas.

In the fallout of the breakup, it wasn’t shocking to discover that drastically different mindsets were formed for each individual involved. While Becca continued to be ridiculed by the jocks and other popular kids that they knew, Ryan was being put on a pedestal as if he had done something noble by breaking them up. The jocks were obviously quite supportive of the breakup, informing Ryan of how “lame” and “awkward” they always thought Becca was while also offering to help be his wingmen to get him laid as soon as possible. In the most puzzling tidbit of all though, it seemed as though many women were on Ryan’s side as well as they reached out to send their regards towards the breakup while also throwing their hat in the ring to be a potential rebound for the man. Throughout the entire experience though, Ryan felt no shame for his actions and didn’t even have a single lingering thought about how Becca was handling everything.

As Ryan rolled his eyes once again upon re-reading the latest message from Becca, the man quickly typed out “fine, make it quick bc i’m heading to the beach” and headed down to the front door. Upon opening it, Ryan took a moment to stare at the girl. Although Becca was quite attractive in her form-fitting crop top that showed off her taut stomach and sizable breasts, the clear sight of runny mascara due to the girl’s crying immediately killed any remaining attraction he felt for the girl. In Ryan’s eyes, signs of weakness in women was the ultimate boner killer for him, so as he moved to the side and allowed the brunette to make her way into the house, he couldn’t help but physically cringe at her as he heard a slight sniffle emerge from her mouth.

Upon shutting the door and turning to face the girl, Ryan immediately crossed his arms as he observed his ex. “So, what do you want to talk about,” he said, his voice completely lacking in any emotion.

As Becca stood there with her head narrowed downwards, the girl’s shaky voice finally began to speak. “I- I’m sorry for this Ryan, I just want to be with you for the rest of my life,” she began, immediately rushing up to the man and trying to grip him.

Despite how off-put he was by Becca’s statement, the man’s stone-faced expression finally began to soften as he felt the woman’s dainty arms reaching around his back. The physical sensation instantly reminded the man of the good times that they had throughout their many years together, especially when it came to the incredible sex that the two of them had. Immediately, the wheels in his head began turning as the concept of passionate makeup sex popped into his head. Thinking that he might be able to continue having some kinky sex with the girl under the guise of getting back together (he was still planning on going to California completely single), the man finally unfolded his arms.

As he moved the meaty limbs around the woman’s dainty frame and tightly squeezed her though, there was the sudden feeling of heat that spread through both of their bodies. Not only that, but as Ryan continued to hold her with his eyes closed, the sensation of pressure against his torso was quite apparent. So to find some answers about what was going on, the man opened his eyes and looked down at his torso. To his complete horror though, a large section of Becca’s body had somehow sunken into his body! Screaming in horror, he tried his best to try and flee, but found that his movements only brought along the female who was still tightly clinging around his muscular frame.

“Becca, get the fuck off of me,” Ryan cried aloud, trying his best to pull the woman’s arms away from around him but finding that the arms were unable to be pulled apart. As he attempted to thrash and escape the horrific entanglement he was a part of, the man soon found himself unable to move as a tightness was suddenly forming in the circle of limbs and body that wrapped around him. In one sudden tug, every inch of the woman’s body was quickly enveloped into Ryan’s body.

For a moment, everything suddenly went black for Ryan. But after a few seconds, Ryan’s vision was quickly regained and the man began to ponder whether he was having some gnarly after-effects from the weed that he had smoked the night prior. Eager to head to the beach and escape the twisted experience he had just fantasized about, the man quickly tried to fish his car keys out of his pocket and begin his journey. But although he could see the living room foyer he was in, it seemed as though the man had somehow lost the ability to move given the fact that his arms refused to reach towards his pockets. What the fuck is going on? Am I tripping somehow, he asked himself, trying to find some semblance of rationale behind what was occurring to him. But quickly, it became clear that something impossible was happening as his mouth and body began to move on its own accord…

* * * * *

“Hehe yes! It really worked!” his body exclaimed, taking a moment to tilt his head downwards and see the gorgeous shirtless torso staring back at him. To Ryan’s shock and disgust, he could watch and feel as his masculine and callused hands began to graze along every inch of his muscular build. As his body was continuously felt up and his muscles were flexed, the body invader couldn’t resist girlishly giggling as both them and Ryan picked up on the sudden rise of the man’s prominent manhood. “Oh shit, I’m sorry Ryan! This is my first time becoming a guy so bear with me,” the voice said with a chuckle, immediately causing the man to realize that Becca was now the one in complete control of his body!

No matter how hard he screamed and begged, Ryan was unable to get his ex’s attention as she eagerly flexed his muscles and tested out her brand new voice.

“Lemme guess Ryan, you’re currently freaking out and begging what’s happening to you right?” she inquired, taking not even a second-long pause before continuing to speak. “Well to put it simply Ryan, you were a goddamn prick that needed to be taught a lesson. Not only did you reject me for no reason, but you spread my messages around and now everyone in town thinks I’m some desperate and pathetic loser! Like, that’s so fucked up of you babe!” she exclaimed, a clear hint of anger in her gruff voice that immediately made Ryan realize the error of his ways. “Luckily for me, I have a friend who’s a witch that offered to help me get some revenge on my heartless dick of a boyfriend. After she cast the spell on me, I was given the ability of possession upon making physical contact with you. All I had to do was squeeze my way in and now I’m suddenly Ryan Sullivan!”

“Don’t worry though babe, we’re gonna be a great team together. With my brains as the class valedictorian and your brawn, we’ll be unstoppable in college,” she continued, beginning to walk down the hallway of the Sullivan residence. Before long, she finally entered Ryan’s bathroom and Ryan was thus treated to the terrifying sight of his reflection moving and speaking without his control. “While we’re going to be a great team, I can’t deny that we’re going to need to make some changes to your life Ryan. You see, while my friend was able to give me your body and other things such as important memories and your innate athletic skill, she was unable to pass along your sexuality and personality to help make me perfectly inhabit your life. So, I hate to say it babe, but I think you’re going to be coming out as a gay man soon. It works out great though that we’ll be heading out to college in a few months though, especially since that means I can be myself and not have to be this angsty and toxic version of Ryan all of the time.”

Upon understanding that Becca was going to completely demolish his life and the image that he had created for himself as this dominant and extremely cocky hunk, the man couldn’t help but scream into the darkest depths of his mind. To him, this was a nightmare come to life! To make matters even worse, it seemed as though there was no way of ever regaining control of his body as Becca made a passing remark while flexing about how the possession was permanent.

For Becca though, the concept of becoming Ryan Sullivan was a dream come true. Although there would surely be a hard learning curve in terms of adapting to having a cock and the near-constant boners she would surely be sporting for the foreseeable future, it was an upgrade in every other way. The Sullivan family was incredibly wealthy, so she would never have to worry about having to work hard in college. Instead, she’ll have all of the free time in college to explore her new body and build more muscle as she turns herself into the hottest gay man on campus. Although it would surely be nice to find a nice and respectful man to spend the rest of her life with, Becca couldn’t deny how happy she was to still have Ryan in her life. In more ways than one, they would now truly be together forever!

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[steaming-system-takes]

IMPORTANT NON TAKE!!!

⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️@/dissociative-misinfo IS SPREADING MISINFORMATION!!!!!!⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️

They're saying final fusion is a way to "heal" a system. They did say that it doesn't go away, but that's not HEALED!!

They're saying people HAVE to source separate, which is NOT true!!

And they're also just being a dick-face to anyone who says otherwise!!! Please, please, PLEASE be careful when looking at their blog!!!!!!

Good morning (again), everyone. We have some down time in our second period, so I'm taking the time to address this.

As some of you have already pointed out, the blog mentioned is actively spreading misinfo while being extremely aggressive towards people with different views from them. The specific things I'll be talking about are in relation to one of their reblogs of a post on our blog claiming that any form of healing other than fusion/final fusion is "anti recovery". This is blatantly wrong.

Recovery is not set in stone, nor is it completely linear. No matter what condition someone has, they aren't going to recover and/or heal the same way others might. This can apply to any mental illness and/or disorder. Let's say two people are suffering from clinical depression, and both are taking antidepressants as well as going to therapy regularly. One of the two ends up being in therapy longer that the other, simply because the two individuals recover at different rates and in different ways. One may reach a point of recovery by spending time outdoors in natural sunlight more often, while the other reaches a point of recovery by interacting with family and friends more often. Both are recovering, despite their different ways of doing so.

The same logic can be applied to systemhood. For some systems, fusion is their way of recovering and healing. For others, fusion only causes them more stress, more hardships, which can very well lead to more splitting and a worsening mental state. Final fusion is not a cure-all for dissociative disorders. There is no such thing as a cure-all for anything. As a system, a large part of our healing stems from building connections between headmates and being able to rely on each other. When headmates fuse, there is a clear absence of the support they offered the rest of the system. Our headmates matter to us, so of course we react to fusions and dormancies the same way a singlet would react to the loss of a friend or family member. When me and my fellow headmates work together and support each other, we are healing. We're learning to make the most of this disorder and embrace it with positivity and optimism instead of dread and distaste. We're learning that we aren't alone, and that there is always someone we can lean on when we need it. We're learning to trust, which is something we've always struggled to do because of our trauma responses. For us, that is healing. However, we recognize and acknowledge that there are systems who heal and recover in different ways. That's okay. Trauma is deeply personal, and how you recover from it is entirely dependent on the individual. There's no right or wrong way to overcome trauma. Trying to force someone to do something they can't handle/aren't ready for/don't want isn't helping them. That is hurting them. That is anti-recovery, as you're actively reversing any progress they might have made.

As for source separation, that also entirely depends on the individual. We've talked about this on our main blog, but I'll summarize our points to make this easier on everyone. There are reasons that introjects may choose to source separate, and there are reasons they may choose not to. Both are equally as valid as the other. What an alter chooses to identify with/not identify with is no one else's decision but their own. No one has the right to strip someone of their own identity.

We've found out through a reblog from one of our followers that this blog is pro endo. For that reason, we'll be blocking this blog as this breaks our DNI. We encourage anyone else to block this blog as well to ensure none of you come across any harmful/triggering things yourselves. We haven't looked at any other posts from this blog, but we've seen warnings of their posts being paranoia inducing. Please stay safe out there <3

Okay! That was a lot! Thank you for bringing this to our attention, and thank you to the people who have reblogged these posts combating the spread of misinformation. Fortunately for you all, we have some hot takes lined up and ready to post for you! Thank you for bearing with me. I'll try to keep posts on this blog a little more lighthearted from this point on, but sometimes you need to sit down and talk about something serious ^^;

It's better than having Zack do it, I'll tell you that much /lh humor

Yours truly, Mod Green

[doodle-pops]

Point of View

Caranthir x reader

Request: Can I request a fic for Caranthir where our lovely red bean is feeling insecure about his appearance and reader (wife maybe?) reassures him? It could be a mix of fluff and smut, with body worship and lot of love, if you like the idea. Reader would be tracing his freckles with soft touches and kisses and Cara would have no idea how to react, he would feel really insecure at first, but he would finally relent and let his beloved show him just how much she loves him and his beautiful body. In the end I think he would cry and maybe try to return the favor? Or keep cuddling her? Just any way to make her see that he loves her just as much. Hope this is not too confusing, sorry. - Anon

A/N: I chose to omit the smut, though it is hinted that he and reader were intimate before the focused scene. I wanted to write something extremely soft between them accepting their love for each other.

Warnings: nudity but you have to squint real hard to notice, just a soft reassuring moment with Caranthir, fluff and comfort

Words: 1.2k

Synopsis: You spend a quiet moment with Caranthir, expressing your appreciation towards his beauty marks.

Eyes facing star-like patterns and finger following to recreate the motion of your eyes, you drew circles, curled lines and flowers in between, morphing the freckled stars into an even more beautiful masterpiece. Thankfully, your sleeping husband was a deep sleeper to grant you the opportunity to perform your silly little moments as you showed his skin in adoration. It was better when he was asleep than awake; the tickles were never-ending, furthermore, getting him to remove his shirt other than intimate moments was impossible. So taking the chance, you dipped your finger closer to his waistline and dragged it across his lower back, then up the other side waving your finger about.

At the same time, he exhaled and released a series of mumblings before slipping into a deeper slumber. Releasing a breath you were also holding, you smiled at his peaceful state and moved your hands to push his hand out his face before nuzzling his nose and planting a few kisses at the tip before travelling lower, covering his cheeks, shoulders, and back in an abundance of kisses. Even the faint angry red lines received some love even though the creation was because of love. Smiling into the kisses as you covered his back, once you reached his cluster of stars near his hipbone, you planted a longer kiss at the end and rested your head against it.

It was moments like these when you were able to express your appreciation freely and easily towards his beauty. Moments when he wouldn’t fuss and resist, complaining about what others thought when he missed the point of your words and intentions. Fighting to make him see that he should learn to ignore others and trust in you was a work in progress, one you weren’t ready to give up so easily yet.

“Have you finished your artwork, painter?” His groggy, morning voice was the epitome of deep and savoury. It sounded the way caramel tasted.

Jolting at the suddenness of his voice, you laughed into his warm skin causing him to squirm slightly and roll away from your touch. This only caused you to reach your hand out to snatch him by his butt, giving them loving pats each before squeezing. Caranthir’s immediate response was to roll away as far as he could, shouting about your indecency this early morning.

“You know I can’t help it, love. When my eyes fall on something so beautiful, it is impossible to not touch it. I must admire,” you purred as you rose to your knees, crawling over, plopping at his side to down, and resting your foreheads against one another.

Despite the closeness informing him that you were up to no good this morning, he fell for your trick, getting lost in your eyes and presence to ignore the sensation of your hands trailing over his abdomen. He resisted the urge to squirm away from your touch, instead, sucking in his stomach which only fuelled your dedication.

“You can deny my touch as much as you want, but you admit that you enjoy it,” you murmured against his lips and observed how his lashes fluttered as your fingers traced the rest of his freckles across his pectorals and abdomen. Sensitive areas he ensured that were heavily covered and at first, avoided your touch believing that you would find it disgusting. Never had he been so wrong upon the first contact of your delicate fingers on his skin. It was now he understood why they were sensitive, and you helped him to love those blotches on his skin even more.

“Whoever said anything about denying your touch, melda,” he purred and leaned in to brush his lips against yours. His forest green eyes softened as they gazed into yours, silently asking for you to stop teasing and kiss his lips.

“Your stomach,” you giggled and dipped your finger down his abs, stopping right above his V-line. “Stop moving it in and let me touch you properly.”

“Perhaps it is that I am ticklish.” Finally leaning in, he managed to score a gentle peck to your lower lips since you chose to pull away and smirk.

Folding your legs under your body, you perched your hands on your thighs and arched your brow. The smirk still danced upon your lips as you gave them a lick, followed by a bite. “You weren’t ticklish last night when I was showering you with my devoted love and affection. In fact, you enjoyed my touch.”

“And I thank you for that, melda.” He sat up against the headboard, pulling the sheet around his waist and crossing his arms. “You have made me feel a whole lot better. Thank you for your care.”

Immediately, your eyes softened, and your smirk morphed into tenderness. His state of being yesterday left you uneasy after reminders of his appearance resurfaced. Regardless, you were pleased as his spouse to be gifted with the ability to nurture his wounds and heal them through your compassion and admiration. While your presence was enough to heal, the extra wish for your touch coupled with praises patched up his scars and helped them fade. The only thing left to do was find the courtesans and give them a solid piece of your mind…and fist behind your Lord’s back.

Scooting closer to caress his cheeks, you leaned him to properly kiss his lips. “Anytime you need me, I’ll be there to remind you of your worth and beauty. I love everything about you, Moryo—don’t ever forget that and allow others to influence your mind. Everything about you is an artwork I love, and I would be willing to show you all over again if you’ll let me.”

“You never fail to amaze me with the way I appear in your eyes. I find it impossible to believe that I could look as captivating as you consider me.”

“Is that not the same thing with me? When you tell me that I’m beautiful and to trust in you, don’t you want me to?”

He didn’t open his mouth to reply, yet the knowing smile on his lips answered the question.

“See. We’re in the same boat when it comes to convincing each other of our beautiful image, and if we want it to work, then you have to believe me as I will believe you,” you added while rocking in your seated position. “Trust my words, there’s nothing I don’t like about you.”

He remained quiet, pondering and calculating his following sequence of actions to reply to your statement. Not an elf of many words, but rather relying on his actions, he chose to lean into your shoulder. Slowly nuzzling his face into your skin, breathing in your scent that calmed him in waves, his arms followed to encircle your waist and pull you into him. The lazy tracing on your hipbone from his thumb, languid intake of breaths and cat-like nuzzling into your neck, all spoke one particular response from him, he was grateful.

Masterlist

Taglist: @lilmelily @ranhanabi777 @rain-on-my-umbrella @mysticmoomin @asianbutnotjapanese @batsyforyou @sakurayaxd @ladyenchanted @stormchaser819 @involuntaryspasms @addaigio @lamemaster @elficially-done-with-life @aconstructofamind @hermaeuswhora

[xxlady-lunaxx]

Can I ask for GenKana fluff?

i beg of you to specify just a bit more

lately, shinobu had noticed a change in kanao. for the most part, she seemed herself. but there were times when she would become inexplicably excited—especially upon receiving letters, ones that were outside of work—and she stayed out longer on her missions. the latter was most peculiar because she had always made a point of being efficient and fast, never dawdling. the fact that she seemed to be deliberately drawing out her time outside was odd. at first, shinobu didn’t dwell on it, having many other, more concerning matters to handle. besides that, she figured she must be pushing kanao too hard. she tried lessening the amount of training she put on the girl’s shoulders, but nothing changed with that. kanao continued arriving without much fatigue and finishing with much progress. after realizing that it wasn’t anything to do with overexertion—to shinobu’s relief—she began go wonder what it was.

kanao wasn’t one to do anything for fun, never doing much for her own sake. she wasn’t the type to choose to do something for her own pleasure, having never made much use of emotions. this, of course, was always kanae and shinobu’s main concern about her. but it had never caused problems, really. it was just the question of if it was really good for her. she did seem well, at least, and after a little conversation, they had left it at that.

it wasn’t as if they didn’t encourage her to go out for fun. they really did. aoi also made an effort to take more work in her own hands to give kanao an opportunity to eat out or see a friend, or whatever caught her interest. but she had never done much. she ate out only when they suggested, and only because she had seen it as more of a command. she had hung out with people as if she were playing some follow-the-leader game, trotting behind them and doing as they said. so it didn’t take long for shinobu to rule out the possibility that kanao was sneaking away for something along those lines. but she could think of little kanao would be doing. unless she was staying out long to help the kakushi—which she wasn’t; shinobu had verified with them—then there wasn’t anything else to cross off. eventually, she decided to just ask. kanao would answer either way—she always answered truthfully, having little opinion about what she would or wouldn’t share unless she was told to keep a secret. in that case, shinobu would have to just let the subject go. it wasn’t hurting kanao, that much she could tell.

but she did venture to ask after a while. it was less from worry and more to soothe her mild interest. kanao was more or less an open book, so the little shinobu didn’t know was always something she was curious about. which didn’t happen often—only adding to the possibility that this could become something… fascinating.

after she had cleared out her schedule, shinobu took kanao aside for a quick question. she had meant to ask only about her little detours after mission, anticipating a simple response. instead, she got a fidgety, pink kanao who would not meet her eyes. as was mentioned before, kanao was an open book. the minimal emotion she allowed herself was displayed as if she were writing it down. immediately, shinobu’s interest was peaked. she calmly coaxed an answer out of kanao and, after a little reluctance, kanao told her that she was meeting up with someone, occasionally.

shinobu’s first reaction was the ring alarm bells everywhere, her concern spiking. but at kanao’s shy, more or less embarrassed state rather than guilty or… hurt, shinobu willed herself to relax. she asked about the said person, only to get incoherent mumbling of terrible attempts at a subject change. really, she found this all very much adorable. but she had grown to see kanao as she was sure kanae had felt for shinobu, so she fretted slightly, trying to stress the topic. to no avail.

curiosity ever renewed, shinobu let her off. instead, she went to aoi, inquiring about this secret person. aoi did an excellent job at avoiding the questions to the point shinobu nearly fell for it—had she not noticed the anxious flick of the guilty blue eyes. she sighed, knowing full well aoi wouldn’t betray kanao’s apparent trust in her not to say anything, and dropped the conversation. she opted instead to figure out who it was without anyone telling her.

for the next few weeks, she would watch kanao in what she hoped appeared to be more of one a mentor might to her student. she scrutinized her, watching and catching on to the more extreme reactions. she got nothing, however, and began to think she should try asking again. kanao would spill eventually if she pushed enough. she let it go for the time being, however, deciding that if kanao was happy with this then so be it. aoi would’ve said something if it were a subject of concern—and since she’d skillfully skirted around saying anything, there must not be room for worry.

the answer came by itself, however, nearly a month after shinobu’s discovery. surprisingly, it didn’t come with kanao. kanao was on a mission when a new group of injured slayers arrived. along with the very person shinobu had unknowingly sought for.

she recognized them, especially one who had caused much trouble for the hashira. tanjiro, a boy with blond and orange hair, a boy with a boar mask, a boy with a mohawk whom she placed as the slayer gyomei had taken in, and a man who she knew only by face had traipsed in. they seemed tired but quite lively, all of them introducing themselves at shinobu’s appearance. the blond boy was zenitsu, the boar mask was inosuke, gyomei’s… not exactly tsugoku was genya, and the last one was murata—who had apparently come by himself but had been dragged into the group by tanjiro.

they were a noisy bunch, chattering even as shinobu and aoi tried to shush them while cleaning them up. murata seemed absolutely terrified of shinobu, so aoi ended up tending to him. then they had split the group up—aoi with murata and tanjiro, shinobu with zenitsu, genya, and inosuke. after much trouble, they got them to settle down and rest. genya, whom had been possibly the least hurt, stayed awake, shifting on his cot. when shinobu passed him, going to throw away some muddied bandages, he spoke up. he was very hesitant about his question, averting his eyes as he asked for… kanao.

the first thought that came to mind was, ‘would you look at that?’ but shinobu simply smiled, shaking her head. if her assumption was correct, this was the mysterious person kanao was meeting. if she was incorrect and genya had some other reason to be asking for her, then shinobu should probably just give up and stop being so paranoid about it. she explained that kanao was off on a mission but should be coming back soon. then she left, forming a little plan in her head.

when kanao came back—on time, today—shinobu mentioned tanjiro, the boy kanao had reported to have almost killed his somewhat subdued demon sister, arriving here. she added, briefly, that his group had been much disruptive and if they were to be causing too much trouble, kanao should make sure to tell her or aoi to stop them. then she listed the names, as if on a whim. the reaction was instantaneous. kanao seemed to light up at genya’s name, standing up straight. shinobu told her, almost like a memory had hit her, that genya had asked for kanao. she had barely told kanao the room number when kanao left, making a beeline towards the room.

so it was genya, then? shinobu hummed, idly following kanao’s footsteps. she made a point of keeping her own steps quiet, stopping before she truly got there and peeking into the room. kanao was perched on genya’s cot, the two murmuring something out of earshot. shinobu smiled. genya was a good kid, she knew that—she had heard plenty of his maturing from gyomei. as much as sanemi—whom was definitely his brother—said otherwise, she had no doubt that he’d treat kanao just fine. also, aoi most likely knew him—being around his age—and she was a good judge of character often. especially when it came to kanao.

just as silently as she had arrived, shinobu slipped away, making for her office. she’d let kanao’s rendezvous continue as long as she didn’t let them get in the way of work. but, honestly, she was just glad genya was able to change her for the better. years ago, when kanae had told her that some boy would sidle into her heart and initiate her ability to be herself, she hadn’t been quick to accept it. but then again, kanae seemed to be right about many things. and this was certainly one of them.

[izzyspussy]

anyway. from my experience with people grudgingly, hopelessly meeting the expectations put on them regardless of if those expectations were 'low' or 'high' or how much of a burden and/or painful confinement filling that role was for them - and in fact my experience with BEING one of those people (in both directions), and with plentiful support from the text before it became wall spaghetti...

i think mickey would get a lot of fulfillment from being expected to take care of someone, be a primary member of someone's support system, to know and understand and anticipate (within reason) someone else's needs, to be relied on and trusted.

his life from birth has come with the certainty from others - parents, teachers, peers, law enforcement, social workers, neighbors, distant bystanders to whom he's a theoretical or a statistic - that he will be a selfish, deadbeat, low-life criminal dirtbag. he'll be a shitty kid, a shitty student, a dropout, a criminal. he'll make a shitty fucking lover and a shitty fucking boyfriend and someday a shitty fucking husband and/or shitty father, if he manages to even make it that far. he'll be his own shitty, selfish, deadbeat, low-life criminal dirtbag father's willing lackey for life. he surely can't be that smart, he's naturally violent, and if he wasn't born pre-equipped with his family's signature absence of morals he's guaranteed to absorb it by puberty. expecting any better of him is just a waste of resources.

but then look at his actual character. iirc his literal character introduction is him protecting mandy. that he enacts his care via violence does not change that he is in fact acting with care (and i would argue that if ian actually had done what it's implied mandy accused him of, mickey's reaction would be pretty close to proportional lol).

the very first time his relationship with ian progresses, it's because ian tells mickey he needs him - paired with the fact that mickey refuses when ian just asks to see him, and has textually shown immediate risk to not doing so, but can't resist need. he seems not just jealous about ian's older lovers, but also to feel some type of way about their ages specifically - and eventually vengefully extorts them for it.

he starts beef with sasha when he realizes she's paying svetlana unfairly, and while it can be argued - and is completely understandable - that mickey doesn't give a shit about svetlana personally at this point, this is still a protective/providing act; if svetlana doesn't make enough money, the whole household suffers. personally, i would also argue that this plotline, though it goes very badly and mickey ends up doing worse - in some ways - by those women than sasha, is actually a moment of character development for mickey independent of his relationship to ian; he is attempting, on his own, to form and act upon an internal sense of right and wrong; in my opinion this could have been built on even though this specific instance was not successful. and it's not even in all ways that he's worse than sasha. he has no real obligation to find a solution to the situation he caused, even less so for the women other than his wife, but he does (even though it's a downgrade). and once he's taken that responsibility, he does extend his protective violence to "[his] girls". when somebody hits one of them, he makes a house call to that guy's place and not only kicks the shit out of him, but also tells on him to his wife to a) humiliate him in addition to beating him and b) ensure that he'll have longer lasting consequences than mickey can inflict. but of course all of this was narratively forgotten as soon as it wasn't convenient lol.

(he also looooves to make people dig their holes deeper with him. but that's not strictly on topic, just something that makes me giggle and kick my feet and draw little hearts around his name in my notebook. on the other hand, maybe i'll talk about his performative anger - telegraphed, loud - versus his genuine anger - quiet, calculated, with confidence in his ability to back it up that often makes it look like amusement. some other post.)

he also makes an earnest offer to assist with domestic labor while staying with the gallaghers - and is immediately judged for and dismissed as insincere for not knowing how.

so. while of course there would be the initial panic and defensiveness at the sudden shift, the certainty that he really can't be like that and asking him to is unfair, i think with just a little bit of understanding and encouragement, mickey would actually be not just willing to take on a caretaker type of role but happy to. lowkey flattered to have even been considered a legitimate option, validated by having the related expectations placed on him when he accepts, and fulfilled and rewarded by then actually performing the role. i think it would be hurtful and deeply insulting to him to be 'relieved' of the part on the basis of the belief that he couldn't or wouldn't want to do it. devastating, in fact.

AND! he would be pretty damn good at it, after an adjustment period. even with only low expectations to live down to and/or the only high expectations for him being of the non-caring variety, mickey still found ways to be protective, caring, and a provider that were doable within the context of his environment - whenever he doesn't think it's impossible to succeed.

(and say the shift wasn't really that sudden. say he had someone very important to him gradually increasing their expectations of him over a period of three or four years, someone he was close to who knew him very well, maybe even better than anyone else ever has, telling him every now and then "i know you can do better. i want better from you." just say, for example. like. hypothetically.)

contrast to ian, who has instead been living up to unasked for expectations his whole life. he's expected to help with his younger siblings, to contribute domestically and financially to his household, to hold down a steady job that his family relies on for basic needs as a young teenager. he's so smart, he's so charming, he's so sweet-looking; he's expected to excel academically, to have well-defined and locked-in ambitions for his far future Right Now, to be polite and level-headed and respectable at all times. he's 'so mature for his age' and 'resilient' - i.e. adults rely on him to fulfill their needs, and to not need anything from them in return. frank expects him to be able to take a few hits without being affected; monica expects him to be her best friend without needing her to be his mom; fiona expects him to need less of her attention than debbie, carl, or liam, and sometimes even than lip; kash not only has sex with him, but also expects him to meet kash's adult emotional needs, and gets violent and mean when ian doesn't do so. he's expected to come to mandy's rescue, and to patiently hold mickey's hand through his personal growth.

and most importantly, ian is expected to never, ever, ever do or say or think or feel anything that frank or monica would. or even to understand it. and when he has no choice but to have something fundamental in common with monica, he is immediately expected to behave exactly like her in every way, regardless of any other aspect of his own individual personality - which is the opposite of the first set of expectations in the worst possible way.

so again. while ian would be initially defensive and resistant to it out of conditioned pride for Not Needing, it would be an overall positive and healing experience for him to be taken care of (also again, within reason). to be doted on. to be the center of someone's attention without the expectation to cater to them because of it. to be able to feel his feelings and express them and not make sense and have it all be accepted even if it's not understood. to be able to fail and it not be the end of the fucking world, or a sign of the inevitable worse to come. to have the space and support to try a bunch of shit and fail at some of it and give some of it up and succeed but still move on to something else. to have someone who wants to know every little thing about him, all the good stuff and bad stuff and neutral boring stuff, who is glad to know every new thing they find out even if it's not what they were expecting or what they wanted to hear. someone who understands and is okay with it if he doesn't know some of that stuff either.

and. btw. all this is perfectly compatible as-is with their established/extrapolate-able sexual dynamic of mickey as the impatient masochistic bottom brat size queen who wants - or sometimes needs - to be 'convinced', and ian as the demanding selfish hard-to-impress hypersexual sadist top who wants his ego serviced as much as his body, both of them rough and tumble tough guys. BTW. By The Fucking Way. and fyi.

[localplaguenurse]

Falling Head over Heels (Pantalone x Male Reader) pt 8

WE ARE FUCKING BACK! (I immediately started hacking my lungs after typing this, I'm sick :P)

To make a long story short, for the past few months I've either been really busy, really depressed, and usually both. Also for some reason chapter 8 was already hard to write and I don't know why.

ALSO before we get into the fic, @your-local-furby drew some absolutely lovely fanart of MC apologizing and seeing the library from the previous two chapters. I think it finally kicked my brain back into gear lmao.

Without further ado, please enjoy!

@thedeimoshimself @eli-chris

It feels like the ground beneath me is sucking me in.

I feel myself sinking,

I wish the ground would swallow me whole.

Embarrassment washes over me and swallows me whole. I feel the air leave my chest I want to break free but I feel like I’m drowning. 

You take the page you’re scribbling your notes on and crumple it into a ball. You’ve reread your rough draft and decided the arranged wedding scene you had planned wasn’t tragic enough. The blind musician is tasked with performing for the prince’s wedding, but his heartbreak causes him to mess up his performance, which causes everyone to notice he’s crying, including the prince. You’re trying to convey the feeling of knowing every single person in the room is watching you during the lowest point in your life, but it’s just not coming together in a way you like. You’ll run it by Alik later.

Technically, Alik is no longer your editor as a result of your deal with the Yae Publishing House. Still, they’re one of your few friends, and their workload has lightened since your previous publisher terminated all of those other book deals. Now they’re acting as your beta reader before you send off the next draft to the editor at the Yae Publishing House. It’s actually making progress go a lot faster, so much so you might only need one final draft of the whole story before it’s finally published, as opposed to multiple drafts. 

I do not need sight to know everyone in the room is looking at me. I feel it in my broken notes that trail into nothingness. I feel it in the resulting silence. I feel it in the quiet murmur spreading through the room.

I feel tears in my eyes as I drop my head down, praying no one sees me crying. If I could, I would sprint out of the room, out of the palace, so no one is witness to my heartbroken embarrassment. I’d run so fast, the prince would have no time to chase after me. It would be for the best anyways. He deserves his perfect and beautiful bride, and I am no bride, I cannot verify if I am beautiful, and in this moment, I could not feel anymore flawed as a person and human. 

A knock on your door breaks your concentration. You’re dreading whatever is on the other side, but know it’s better to get this over with. 

“Yes?”

The door opens, and your mother pokes her head in through the gap. She offers a smile. “We have company. Come say hi, please.”

“I’m… kind of in the middle of something,” you reply, “and I’ve told you that I’m going to see Alik when I’m done writing.”

“How is she, by the way?”

“They’re fine.”

“And Maria? How’s she?”

“She’s alright, I think. I haven’t seen her in a while.”

“Well, tell them both I say hello. Anyways, if you have a minute, I would like you to come downstairs. There’s someone I’d like you to talk to.”

It takes you a moment to recognize what this is, mostly because it’s been a while since she tried pulling this off. When you realize what’s happening, you just shake your head and look at your mother. “Which family friend is this?”

She gives you a very unconvincing look of confusion. “My dear, what do you mean?”

“Mother, please.”

“... Ana. Anastasia.”

Anastasia is your younger sister Adéla’s friend. Much like your sister, she’s only a year younger than you, but unlike your sister, she actually likes you. Adéla and you have butted heads throughout your lives, as siblings tend to do and especially with such a small age gap, but Adéla has taken it a step further saying that it’s your fault her childhood was so “miserable” as she puts it. She claims that your diagnosis made you the centre of your parents’ attention until your youngest sister was born, and then they focused more on her than Adéla. Conveniently, she’s never had any sisterly drama with her, only you. You feel for her, but there was only so much you could do at the time, seeing as you were eight years old.

“Absolutely not,” you tell your mother.

“But you two got along so well when she would visit,” your mother insists, “and she’s become a fine young lady since the two of you last spoke! Don’t you remember reading together when you two were little?”

“I’m sure she’s beautiful,” you say, “but Adéla will throw a fit if she finds out you set me up with one of her friends.”

“You don’t know that.”

“And I don’t want to find out,” you tell her, “and I told you I don’t like being set up on dates.”

Your mother lets out an exasperated sigh. “I’m just worried about you, okay? I want to make sure my son is happy, healthy, and I want him to find someone he can settle down with. Your brother was already married at your age, and Adéla’s going to be having another baby soon.”

“Yes, but I’m not Pavel or Adéla,” you say, “the dating scene is different for me, and playing matchmaker isn’t going to make me feel any better or help me.”

Your mother just looks at you. That sad, pitiful look you know all too well. It stopped pulling on your heartstrings long ago, but sometimes it’s just easier to indulge her than it is to fight her on it. Besides, she means well, you think, it just can’t be helped that she doesn’t know her son has no interest in women.

You sigh, and stand up, much to your mother’s delight. “I’ll say hi, and that’s it.”

She grins, and she motions for you to follow her.

----

“... and she just happens to be single, too.”

Alik sets their glass down. “Interesting. So when’s the wedding?”

“It’s not happening,” you reply, “thank the Tsaritsa for that.”

“I’m honestly surprised your parents haven’t put you in an arranged marriage yet,” Alik comments.

“How many viable marriage candidates do you think there are that would be thrilled to marry someone who’s not only going blind, but could pass it on to their children as well?”

“Depends on how much the family is getting paid.”

“And it would not be much.”

The tavern is surprisingly quiet tonight. You chalk it up to it being the middle of the work week, not as many patrons willing to get drunk if they have work early in the morning. Currently, you and Alik are sitting at a table in the corner of the room while a few older patrons mill about, chattering on about their own lives at the bar. It’s actually rather nice, you think.

“What would they try to sell your bride to be on?” Alik asks.

“Um…” You look into your half drunk glass, trying to think of something funny. You clear your throat, straighten your posture, and put on your best business smile. “Here’s a fine young man who has no real work skills, and it’s not like they would do him any good since he’s considered legally blind and has between thirteen and fifteen years before he is fully blind. His only profitable skill is writing, though he doesn’t make enough to support a household. His blindness is also genetic!”

“By the Archons, at least say one nice thing about yourself,” Alik teases, though there’s a subtle sincerity to their words.

“I think I’m decent,” you say, “I think I might even make an okay husband, but I don’t think I’d be the kind of husband Pavel or my father are.”

“That’s not a bad thing,” Alik replies, “there are plenty of families and couples where the husband isn’t always a provider. Besides, you’re not really a ladies man to begin with.”

You shake your head. “It’s not even that, it’s just… you know I try not to make a big deal of me going blind, but it’d be naïve of me to pretend that it’s not, and especially if I was in a relationship. Whether I like it or not, whoever I marry is going to inevitably become my caretaker. There will come a day where I’m going to need help, and I’ll rarely be able to return that favour.”

“That’s why it’s in sickness and in health,” Alik comments. They reach across the table and take your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “For what it’s worth, I think you’d make a good house husband, before and after you start seeing the world how Maria does.”

Maria is Alik’s cousin, and one of your few very close friends. She has been a big help to you in writing your book as her blindness is similar to the main character’s. While he was born blind, she actually had vision when she was born. Unfortunately, she suffered a very severe head injury when she was very young. She has little to no memory of her life before she lost her sight as a result, as well as having some developmental problems growing up. These days she’s doing much better, though her eyesight is still gone. At most, she can detect if there’s light, but that’s the extent of it. 

“Do you have permission to make jokes about her being blind?” you ask.

“I not only have permission, but that’s not even the worst joke I’ve gotten away with.”

“I don’t want to know.”

“For the best.”

Your table goes quiet as you and Alik take a moment to drink. You try not to cringe at the taste of whatever the hell Alik recommended you try. It’s a beer, and you can taste that, but it’s a lot more bitter than you like. Still, they bought it for you, it would be rude to spit it out.

“You don’t have to drink that, you know.”

“It’s an acquired taste, I’ll get used to it.”

You see a smile twitch onto Alik’s lips, and even if they try to hide it, you can see a shit eating grin from miles away. 

“Okay,” you say, “out with it.”

“What do you mean?”

“You thought of something terrible, I want to hear it.”

Alik glances around the room, assessing how audible their comment would be. You take a sip of your drink, and they grin.

They lean in. “I’m sure Pantalone would be happy to hear that.”

You immediately sputter, spraying Alik in the face. They yell, swiping at their face as if they were sprayed with acid. You cough as what was left in your mouth goes down the wrong pipe. “Fuck, w-why’d I take a drink–”

“Did you have to spit that in my face?” Alik asks.

“Shut up,” you wheeze out. You give one more hearty cough, your throat and chest burning, and you can breathe again. You sit up, rubbing your chest through your shirt while Alik wipes their face and the table with napkins. You look around, and see the few patrons staring at your table. You painfully chuckle, and turn back to your friend. “S-Sorry, I should know better by now.”

Alik shrugs. “I’m not wrong, am I?”

“I told you that in confidence,” you whisper.

“You actually told me before the tea party,” Alik tells you. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but it’s starting to show in your book.”

You feel your face flush, and you narrow your eyes. “I think I would know if I was writing about him, thank you.”

“The prince was a lot more arrogant in your first drafts,” Alik explains, “but in more recent iterations, it’s been toned down a lot. He’s also a lot more understanding of the musician’s blindness.”

You’re confused. “Well, yes. My first drafts are years old, so I’ve had to make some adjustments to better fit my writing style now. Besides, I’ve read too many stories about asshole love interests that don’t really learn anything, they just get tragic backstories that authors think justify their shitty behaviour. I’m not adding my characters to that pile.”

“No, I agree on that,” Alik says, “but even then, he was still a solid character, arrogance aside. He was just a spoiled prince who had to actually think about other people for the first time in his life. Like he’s never had to deal with someone with a disability, and doesn’t know how else to feel other than annoyed. In the more recent drafts, he still doesn’t know how to deal with it, but he’s a lot more willing to make up for the disrespect, where the old version did it, but complained the whole time. It just so happens that this change happened right when you met him for the first time.”

“That’s… hm.” You take a sip and don’t spit it in Alik’s face. “You’re on the right track, but I don’t think I was writing all of that because of a crush.” You feel your face flush warmer again. “He was a bit of an ass at the party, but since then he’s become one of…” You take a moment to count names on your finger. “... six or seven people that aren’t patronizing about me going blind. I’d just been putting up with most of my family either coddling me or being inconvenienced by me, but he’s a rare instance of someone making accommodations, but not making a big show of it. That’s why the book was like that until I met Pantalone.”

You stare into your glass. “And… a-and it’s why I enjoy his company so much…”

Alik doesn’t say anything. You look up, and you see their expression has softened a little bit. They lift their drink up to you, and you smile and lift yours up.

“Cheers.”

You both take a swig, and somehow the disgusting drink tastes sweeter going down. Your face feels warm, and you wonder why you’re still blushing when you see you’re already halfway through your drink. Alik has a similar glow in their cheeks. 

“That’s really sweet and cute,” Alik says, “but I do have to ask you something.”

You feel whatever warm feelings you’re feeling lessen when Alik’s softened expression gains a hint of concern. Their smile looks awkward by comparison, before they sigh and lose it altogether. You’re already dreading what they’re about to say.

They hesitate for a moment, and when they speak, it’s in a whisper. “Do you like him, or do you like what he’s done for you?”

“W-What?”

“I wouldn’t ask that if we were talking about anyone else,” Alik clarifies, “but I have to ask when it’s him. I don’t want to rain on your parade, I’m happy you like someone, but… he’s a harbinger. One of the more likeable ones, but not without flaws.”

“I know…”

Alik sighs. “Look, if it were some other handsome rich man, I’d say go for it. The fact it’s a harbinger specifically makes me a little worried, I won’t lie.”

You sound like my mother. “It’s a crush, not an engagement,” you tell them. “We enjoy each other’s company while he works with my father and sister. I just enjoy it differently than he does.”

“Still, even as friends, I’d be cautious. If not for what he’d have planned, then for what others might have in store for him.”

You take a swig. “You want to know what’s funny? You’re the first person to bring up his enemies as a point for why I shouldn’t get near him.”

“I am not.”

“No, seriously. My mother doesn’t want me near him because he’ll probably, I don’t know, kill me or sell me or steal my ideas, depends on the day. My father thinks I’ll ruin everything those two have built together, which I still don’t know why Pantalone is working with him.”

“Maybe your dad’s indebted to him or something.”

“...”

Alik notices your silence. They say your name in a soft voice, seeming worried by your expression. Your father’s not in debt, is he? The business isn’t as prosperous as it was when you were little, but job markets change all the time, and the economy is ever fluctuating. It’s purely the result of what happens when a business runs for as long as it does. Sometimes an empire doesn’t crumble, but rather dies slowly.

“Hey, are you okay?”

You snap out of it. “I’m, uh, I’m fine.” You push your seat back and stand. “I’m just, um, I’m going to go to the washroom for a second.”

“... Okay? Just watch yourself.”

“I’ll be fine,” you call out over your shoulder before immediately bumping into someone. Unlike with Pantalone, you actually manage to catch yourself before you fall. You know that Alik is holding their head in their hands, possibly stifling laughter too for a little extra salt in the wound.

“Archons, sorry,” you immediately blurt out, “I didn’t see you there.”

The ginger haired man laughs. “Oh, no worries comrade! Just be more careful next time!”

You stare at the man, eyes widening. His smile grows, almost reaching the dull blue of his eyes.

“Why the surprised face?” he asks jovially.

You sigh and shake your head. “I have got to stop meeting harbingers like this.”

[mr-jack-letterman]

I thought it would be fun to give some insight into how the circumstances detailed in Covalent Twins are effecting the characters :D.

So, here's Covalent Emmet Progress Report #1 (as I will probably end up making more of these)(maybe)

Despite popular belief, Emmet....is not doin too hot with this new situation.

The 2 years Ingo spent in Hisui were the worst years of Emmet's life. When Ingo finally returned, naturally, he was overjoyed. Hearing about what his brother faced in Hisui however....was quite concerning.

Every scar on his brother's body felt like a bullet wound to Emmet's heart. He hated seeing his brother so hurt and scared of what used to be their everyday lives. Thankfully, the amnesia almost entirely cleared up after a few months. But that didn't change the fact his brother was hurt, and there was no way for him to fix it other than supporting him the best he could.

Immediately jumping from that to their apartment being haunted by the dead ghost of Ingo from an alternate timeline made Emmet want to rip his hair out.

It's all just so unfair.

Emmet and Elesa had done nothing to deserve having Ingo torn away from them. Ingo did nothing to deserve his sudden derailment nor his treatment in Hisui, but most of all, Warden did absolutely fucking nothing to deserve being left for dead in the past by a God.

Emmet didn't care if the space-time continuum was at risk if Warden's timeline wasn't created. Emmet didn't care if Warden being sent to the future the same way Ingo was might have caused even more problems.

In Emmet's mind, there is not, and will never be, a riotous justification for Arceus leaving Warden stuck in the past. Not. One.

Not after all the pain and grief it caused Warden- his brother.

Warden is as much as Emmet's brother as Ingo is. And Emmet with never forgive Volo or Arceus for what happened to them. Not ever.

The worst part about it all is that the ones truly to blame aren't even here for Emmet to pass blame onto.

Volo is dead and gone, nobody can survive 150 years. (Unless you're Warden and live on as a ghost, of course.)

Giritina was only a tool, a terrifying and powerful tool, but still, only a tool for Volo to get what he wanted. Even through all his pain and resentment, Emmet can recognize Giritina as somewhat of a victim in all this as well.

Arceus is quite literally nothing, and also everything. Aside from pieces of Arceus (that Dawn allegedly fought and captured at one point.) Emmet would get nowhere trying to make an entire deity take responsibility.

The entire weight of Emmet's guilt, resentment, grief, and fury just sits in his hands. And with no one around to give it to, he keeps it close. Emmet blames himself.

Logically, Emmet knows it's untrue. He knows it's ridiculous. He knows he doesn't deserve any of the built up emotions he's taking out on himself, but he simply doesn't know what else to do with them all.

He knows it was all out of his control, but that alone is what makes it all so scary.

Emmet has never done well without a protocol or a script. But there is no script for this type of situation, let alone such a complex trauma. Emmet doesn't know what to do, and it seems like the only thing anyone can tell him is what not to do. Which for Emmet, isn't helpful in the slightest.

Emmet is veeeeery scared, and the total lack of proper answers and the uniqueness of his situation has only left him paranoid and flighty.

He's getting better. He will get better. The fear will slowly fade with time.

It's just gonna take a lot longer than originally expected.