#and also the fact that I have a fucking PROBLEM

[ghost-in-the-stalls]

I was going to put this in the tags but it's long enough and a direct response that I think I should just add it here.

Yes, to all of this, unironically and unhesitatingly.

For what it's worth for everything I'm about to say, I am a licensed social worker and am currently employed as a mental health clinician. But I have not done any research on this personally and don't have sources at the moment to back this theory up (im going to look into that today actually. I'm curious to see what I find.) This is just all speculation from a professional, so take that for what it's worth. I'll try to add some sources later when I'm not on mobile.

See I agree with what was stated up above about anxiety and depression. I also think its possible it could apply to diagnoses considered less "general," like adhd.

Example. I was recently diagnosed with adhd. The only reason I bothered to pursue the diagnosis was because it was impacting my ability to function throughout my day, and I wanted to try medication. (Personally, I think those are the only times you really should pursue a professional diagnosis, but that's a separate conversation...)

The most notable complaints I had about what I was experiencing were:

- struggling to focus on one task instead of bouncing around between everything on my to do list

- getting overwhelmed and paralyzed from the amount of thoughts and tasks that were in front of me

- struggling to stay on a task that requires my full focus (like reading) because I simply can't give that task my full attention

- conversely, going too long engaging in one task (usually a preferred relaxation task) and neglecting other parts of my life. This typically happens for me on weekends, when I'm trying to play video games instead of think about work.

There are other symptoms that I qualify with, like interrupting people (or struggling not to), being physically jittery and fidgety, being easily angered when certain things happen, etc.

For me, a lot of this ties back to - and was made most clear by - the amount of tasks I have to regularly engage in in my life, and my difficulty keeping up with it all and functioning effectively through it.

Now on one hand, the DSM V is written with a focus on symptoms that interfere with life functioning. And things that stop necessary tasks from being completed tend to fuck our lives up more than something that makes us a little too talkative or fidgety.

But also. And I will say this again and again and again.

A diagnosis is a tool and label. Not a law of the universe. Not a cause. It is a human attempt at categorization of known symptoms, with the intention of relating to effective treatments.

(And that^^^ is something you'll learn from any decent psych 101 class. Mine wasn't decent and I had to go a few classes beyond before we actually started framing it that way.)

With that in mind. Here's a question.

Is my adhd just innate within me, and something that would have been there, regardless of what my life looked like? Is it a specific way my brain deviates from the "norm," and something that, with the right technology and testing, could have been detected and diagnosed without my even noticing any symptoms? Something that exists in a vaccuum without touching my other diagnoses of anxiety and depression?

Or. Is it maybe just a quick and easy way of saying "this person cannot keep up with the stimuli in their life without becoming overwhelmed. And it is effecting their functioning to a notable degree"

That second option is a gross oversimplification, but I hope you take a second to sit with how much the first option sounds like eugenics. If the problem is innate within you, then if we just improve our technology enough to detect it in everyone who has it and separate them from the "norm," then we can weed out the problem, right? Okay, Elon.

How much of my adhd could be a culmination of the fact that I'm overwhelmed with stimuli 24/7 and have lost my ability to focus effectively because of it? How much of my clients' adhd could be a result of the same, possibly combined with the fact that many of them have experienced or are currently experiencing trauma? Which is known to impact ability to focus on tasks, as well as create a hyperactive body system?

This isn't to say adhd is a bogus diagnosis. The same way that the anxiety and depression we experience within our current world state is also not a bogus diagnosis. We're still experiencing it. We still fit the diagnostic criteria. And treatment still helps.

My point of all this is, yes to what's above. And also, maybe it would be good to reframe the ways we view diagnosis in general, to take it a step further, and to recognize the very clear and present causes of what a lot of people are experiencing nowadays. In my opinion, it goes beyond anxiety and depression.

(Also. For the people saying you'll go nuts if you aren't busy. Take a look at why that is. Is that a sustainable way of living? Are you comfortable just existing as yourself? Are you trying to distract yourself from something, or avoiding something uncomfortable? Have you possibly adapted well to the pressure of being constantly busy? Think about it from a different angle)

[honeyhotteoks]

₊ ⊹ ⟡ too hot to handle (송민기 ♡ s.mg)

your neighbor has more to give than you bargained for.

style: bullet drabble pairing: non idol!mingi x fem!reader word count: 1.8k tags/warnings: smut, pwp, light fluff, neighbor!mingi, fem!reader, big dick, like monster cock level she can't do anything with it, sub!mingi, like super sub, dom!reader, teasing, praise, heavy use of good boy/perfect boy etc., makeouts, grinding, oral f!receiving, face riding, lots of dirty talk, dick on clit action, controlled orgasms, edging and overstim, eventual piv notes: this has been on the brain for longer than i could ever tell you so hopefully it's a fun one x

[masterlist]

The problem with your neighbor isn’t that he’s hot. It isn’t that he’s funny and charming, and it definitely isn’t the crush bubbling between the both of you. Those would be normal problems, problems you tell your best friends about. 

The problem with your neighbor is that his dick is too big. 

You find that out at the same time you find out this giant who lives next door to you with the deep voice and a penchant for calling you “pretty girl” is actually not the dominant you assumed he would be.

Mingi is actually shockingly, surprisingly submissive. 

And you shockingly, surprisingly, love that more than you ever could have guessed. 

You figure that out while you’re straddling him on the couch, and when you roll your hips just right you feel the impressive hardness of him and hear the neediest whimper you’ve ever heard from a man at the exact same time. 

It takes you thirty minutes more of making out and shedding clothes for you to get a good look at his cock, and when you do it grinds the whole almost-fuck to a stop.

And -

“I know,” He breathes, his eyes softening, “it’s okay if you don’t want to keep going.” 

You blink at him, unable to hide the trepidation in your eyes, “It’s not that I don’t want to try,” 

“It’s okay,” He sounds dejected, but also like this has happened to him before and that fills you with nothing but sharp determination. 

“Hang on,” You lay a hand over his bare chest, still straddling his lap, the impressive length and girth of his cock standing between you. 

“Listen,” He sighs, “I get it,” 

“Mingi,” You interrupt him, “I’m not kicking you out,” 

“You’re not?” His eyebrows raise. 

“No,” You smile, “I do think we should maybe… work up to things,” 

“Of course,” He rushes to agree, his hands sliding up and down your bare thighs. 

“It’s just,” You grimace, “I haven’t had sex in a long time, like a really long, kind of embarrassing amount of time,” 

“That’s okay,” He soothes. 

“I’d be lying if I said I thought I could take you,” You sigh, “but Mingi, I’d really, really like to work up to it,” 

“Yeah?” He grins like he just won the lottery. 

“Uh-huh,” You swallow a little nervously, “just maybe not tonight?” 

“Right,” He nods, “anything you want,” 

“Is that okay?” You check, sliding closer to him, his bare cock brushing against your abdomen. 

“Okay?” He nods, “Of course, it’s… I mean, I like you. I want to do whatever you want, that’s what I want,” 

He’s a little flustered, still walking a nervous line like you might change your mind, or he’s worried about coming on too strong, and you take him in for a moment. 

Somewhere inside, you find the boldness to ask the question you’ve wanted to ask since you heard his first whimpered moan, “Mingi,” You murmur, “is that what you’re into? Doing what I want?”

His eyes flick over your face, but you don’t miss the way they darken up at the idea and he nods, “If you’re into that,” he says, “but I can take over if you need me to,” 

You wonder how many girls have begged him to be more dominant. How many girls have pushed him to go to a place that isn’t entirely comfortable for him, when he clearly wants the opposite. 

“I’m into that,” You tell him, “don’t worry,” 

You both click together like kinky little puzzle pieces, and despite the fact that you’ve never had his dick properly inside you, you’ve been having sex for weeks. 

You get creative. 

Mingi and his giant cock seem to love nothing more than making you feel good, especially when you use his big body to get yourself off. 

The first few times you hook up it’s the basics, getting to know each other, getting to know each other's bodies and what makes each other tick… but by the fourth time? The fifth? 

The fourth time you’re a horny mess, probably a breath away from ovulating and ready to climb his tall ass like a tree, and so all the hesitation you’ve had about being too much for each other flies right out the window. 

With him pinned to your bed you ride his thigh like it’s a pillow, barely looking at him as you get yourself off, and when you’re done all he can do is beg you to do that again, but on his face. 

He whimpers when his tongue first slips inside your folds, when he feels the weight of your body sink onto him. His hands grip your ass and between sucks and moans he begs you to ride him, to fuck his face and never stop. 

With your hands on the headboard you take it just like before, eyes closed, head thrown back, your moans spilling out into the room . 

He comes untouched that time, ropes and ropes of his hot cum painting his chest and stomach, panting apologies into your thighs, and that’s when everything changes. 

Now you tell him when to come. How to come. Where to come. 

You discover that he loves to be edged and you love to be overstimulated. 

A perfect combination of opposites. 

You make him beg for things, ache for things, his cock leaking against your lips as he whines. 

“Please, please, just a taste, just a lick, please, god, please,” 

And sometimes you let him have it, but most of the time you don’t. 

He seems to like that even more. 

Mingi and his big cock have found so many other ways to get off that you almost never want to give into having him inside you, because what if your dynamic changes? The anticipation is the delicious part, the denial, the almost-almosts. 

The way he begs when he’s on his knees between your splayed thighs, his shaft rubbing against your slick folds, sliding over your clit - that’s when you almost break. 

“You f-feel so good,” He shudders, thrusting his hips slowly back and forth so that his cock slides up and down your aching center. 

“Mm,” You sigh, relaxing into the mattress, “good boy,” 

His cock twitches at that, “Thank you, thank you,” 

“Go faster, baby,” You beckon him down with a come-hither motion, “fuck me like you mean it,” 

He freezes, “I-inside?” 

“Did I say inside?” You counter. 

“No, no, of course, I’m sorry,” He stumbles past that assumption and shakes his head, a pink blush spreading across his cheeks. 

You nod, a silent push to get him to move faster, and he scrambles to comply. 

He braces himself over your spread form on the bed, your hips slotting more tightly together, and then he braces his forearms on either side of you and starts to thrust. 

“Faster,” 

His hips speedup. 

Every brush of his shaft over your swollen clit makes you want to writhe and moan beneath him, but keeping control is the fun part for him, so you stay focused. 

“That’s it, baby,” You brush your fingers through his shaggy locks, “such a good boy,” 

He moans, but keeps the pace. 

“Mm,” You sigh through an almost moan, “baby, your cock feels so good inside me,” 

His hips jerk, a stammered groan on his lips. 

The tease was meant for him, a reminder of where his cock isn’t, but heat spreads through your belly at the idea of what he might feel stretching you open for real. 

“Say it,” You open your legs wider, angling your hips to get the sensation right. 

“Your pussy feels so good,” He pants. 

“Don’t stop,” You direct him again. 

“So tight,” He whines, “so wet,” 

“More, baby.” 

“S-so perfect,” He shudders, his eyes tightly closed, “thank you for l-letting me fuck you,” 

“Oh,” You murmur warmly, “that’s my good boy.” 

He chokes, his thrusts getting harder, a relentless rut of his wet cock against your dripping pussy and you bite down on your tongue at the impulse to beg him to fuck you for real. You’re dizzy, orgasm drunk, and your nails dig into his hips to hold yourself steady. 

“Please,” He pants suddenly, eyes flashing open to find yours, “please, may I come?” 

You’re too close for that, “Hold it, baby,” 

His expression tightens in tense control, “P-please,”

“I’m close,” You tell him, “hold it,”

Tears prick at his eyes and you feel the wet string of his precum on your belly, but he listens. 

A moan pulls free from your chest then, your pleasure fast approaching, and you breathe in hot fits and starts. 

“Come on my cock,” He begs, pleads, “I’m so good for you,” 

Your orgasm crashes into you sideways, the relentless stroke over your clit sending you into pleasured little shakes. 

“Please, I c-can’t, I can’t hold it,” He fists the sheets, his voice a thready wet pant. 

“Come,” You give him all the permission he needs, “come inside me, baby, fill me up,” 

He shudders, thrusting hard twice more, and with groaning moans he spills his release all across your belly, spattering you both in hot cum. 

He’s shaking, trembling, but you run your fingers through his hair and soothe him soft like always. He’s your good boy, your perfect boy, your most obedient boy. 

In the aftermath, when you both come down from your messy, full body pleasure, you find each other in the sheets. 

With kisses across his knuckles you nuzzle into him. 

“Next time, I want you for real,” 

He’s hesitant at first, but you’re ready, you’re sure. 

The next time, you play softer. You’ve learned each other so well, but this time it’s your turn to be vulnerable with your body and he doesn’t let you down for a second. 

It’s a slow process, full of sweetness and foreplay. He’s learned how to make your body sing over weeks and weeks of hookups, and he knows he can make you wet enough, relaxed enough to take him. 

The stretch is achingly delicious. 

And once he’s finally inside you for the first time, your bodies connected in every possible way, you realize he was worth the wait. 

And you fit together in more ways than one. 

As it turns out, your boyfriend’s big dick isn’t such a problem after all. 

[theemporium]

[5.1k] the thing between you and leon was just for convenience sake. that was all it was and all it ever would be. obviously fucking the same person for a prolonged period of time wouldn't lead to feelings or anything like that. right? (smutty themes included)

.

Look, Leon never claimed he made smart decisions off the ice. 

It was different when he was on the ice. He was good on the ice, excellent even. He had shelves of trophies to prove as much. There was a reason he won those trophies, there was a reason he had earned his contract and there was a reason he was seen as one of the best players in the league, even whilst playing with Connor fucking McDavid every single night.

Leon was really fucking smart when it came to hockey. It was just everything else he seemed to have a problem with.

Case and point? The fact he was currently driving one and a half hours after a late afternoon game to meet you at some dodgy motel where there would be less of a chance of him being recognised than he would in Edmonton. 

Not the smartest decision. 

The fact this had been an ongoing arrangement for the last few months also further proved this was not a smart decision in the slightest. 

But truthfully, Leon could not bring himself to regret his far-from-smart decisions because the pros definitely outweigh the cons, quality over quantity or whatever the saying was. Because god knows the relationship between the two of you came with way more cons: the distance, the commute, the fact you were a fucking Flames fan.

It was, by all definitions of the word, the furthest thing from convenient for him and yet he was still making the drive to Red Deer against his better judgement. 

You were already there. He had just gotten out of the shower, the exhaustion from the game and the press conference already settling deep in his bones when he opened his phone to find a picture waiting for him, one of you sprawled out on a bed—a bed which he recognised easily by the same ugly sheets the motel used in every room.

Leon hated the way his stomach flipped at the sight of them, at the knowledge that you were there waiting for him. 

He had tried not to think about what he was doing too much, but it was hard to avoid when Connor gave him an odd look after he phoned his dog-sitter and asked if he wouldn’t mind popping over to make sure Bowie got his afternoon walk and some dinner. He also tried to ignore the looks of confusion he got from the rest of the team as he waved off the offer of celebratory drinks after a shut-out win against the Blue Jackets. 

If he was being honest, Leon’s way of coping with this whole thing was to avoid a lot of details. 

It seemed to be working so far. 

The drive to Red Deer felt like muscle memory by this point. It was almost therapeutic, to let his brain mostly shut off and relax after such a fast-paced, high adrenaline game. It was nice to just clutch the wheel and follow the signs down, knowing that you were waiting for him at the end of the journey. 

He could have snorted the second he walked through the motel room door, the key still in one hand as he pushed it open and found you sprawled on the bed—unfortunately clothed, unlike the photo you had sent him earlier. 

“Playing hard to get?” 

Your lips twitched as you pushed yourself to sit up on the bed, shuffling until you were perched on the end. “Not everything is about you, Draisaitl,” you mused, watching as he closed and locked the door behind him. “You were taking your time and this room is fucking freezing.” 

“It’s almost like the only thing I had planned in my diary was a game today,” Leon deadpanned. “No secret meetups penciled in.” 

“Hm, should have guessed you would want your ego stroked after a game like that,” you retorted, watching as he began to shrug off the suit jacket he wore with his game day suit. “Want me to tell you how good you did, baby?” 

Leon rolled his eyes. “You watched?” 

You shrugged. “I got curious, wanted to see what all the hype was about.” 

“Hm,” Leon hummed, tugging impatiently at his tie until he was able to pull it over his head. His fingers were already moving to the buttons of his shirt. “And what was your conclusion?” 

“You play alright,” you commented, your lips twitching like you were trying to fight back your own grin. “Slightly disappointed by tonight’s performance though.” 

Leon raised his brows. “Two goals and an assist weren’t enough for you?” 

“I was looking for a hat trick,” you said, and this time you did grin.

“Brat,” Leon huffed, not quite fond but something else positive, lustful, desired even.

“You love it,” you countered, eyes sparkling.

He didn’t even bother to deny it as he leaned down, both hands engulfing your face as he kissed you, hard and fast and desperate, like the long drive down had finally caught onto him and his patience. 

“Clothes off,” he muttered between kisses, hissing a little when your teeth playfully nipped his lip. 

“Gonna warm me up?” You taunted, leaning back enough to pull your hoodie over your head and throw it somewhere on the floor beside his abandoned tie and shirt. 

He groaned, his nose scrunching up. “That was a horrible line.” 

“Yeah, but you’re still gonna fuck me,” you retorted, looking far too smug for his liking.

The worst part was that you were right.

…

“Leaving already?”

“I need to get back to Bowie.” 

“Give him my love.” 

“I will not be doing that.” 

“Rude.” 

…

Leon wasn’t exactly going out of his way to hide the fact he was sleeping with someone on a regular basis. 

It would be a stupid thing to try and hide when he knew each of his teammates had working eyes and would very much be able to see the scratches and marks left all over his body following his latest meetup with you.

“Oi! Oi! Someone had a fun night!” 

Leon barely reacted anymore, simply letting the cheers and catcalls echo through the locker room as he focused on gearing up for practice. It was inevitable, it was something he had dealt with since the start of his relationship with you—if whatever the two of you had could even be considered a relationship. 

“I’ve been looking for a new place to take Lauren for date night.” 

Leon paused, turning to look at Connor with his brows furrowed together. He waited for the boy to continue but he never did. “Okay?” 

Connor was still looking at him expectantly. “Any recommendations?” 

“No?” Though, it came out sounding like a question. Mostly because it was a question, because Leon was kind of confused why this was a necessary topic of conversation before early morning skate. “Am I meant to know a place?” 

Connor blinked. “I assumed wherever you went after the game on Tuesday.” 

Leon frowned. “I didn’t go out to eat after Tuesday’s game.” 

“But you phoned your dog-sitter,” Connor pointed out, though he didn’t sound accusatory. He had that look on his face, the same one that Leon often saw on the ice when he was trying to work out a play before it even happened. 

“I did,” Leon nodded, because there was no point in denying it when Connor had overheard the conversation. “Pretty sure he doesn't have any date spot recommendations either.”

Connor’s eyes narrowed and Leon swore he could hear the cogs in his brain whirling and turning. But Leon was stubborn and a little petty and he didn’t give handouts, not even to Connor. So he stood there, staring back at his friend with a fairly blank expression.

“Interesting,” Connor said eventually before turning back to his stall to get ready for practice.

Leon pretended to ignore the way the tightness in his chest loosened when Connor dropped the topic.

…

“The motel could be a good date night spot, you never know.” 

“I know for a fact we saw a rat in the bathtub once.” 

“Yeah, and you screamed like a little girl.”

“I screamed the appropriate way for a rat the size of a small dog.”

“Bowie could take that rat.”

“I would never let Bowie near that monster.”

…

Despite every piece of advice he had ever been given from the veterans before him, roadies didn’t really get easier.

After a while, the non-descriptive hotel rooms with scratchy sheets and stiff pillows became a part of the routine. It was a part of his job, the same way early morning practices and bag skates were. He didn’t like it, he could do without it but he had learnt to accept it very early on in his career. 

Still, there were some nights on the road where the room was too uncomfortable for Leon to settle down. 

They had flown in early for their east coast roadie, having a full day and night in Florida before their game the following night. The others had headed out for dinner, wanting to enjoy the heat whilst they could but Leon had waved them off when they extended the offer to him. He was tired and still a little grumpy from the small nap he managed on the turbulent flight down. He wanted his bed more than anything, but the hotel one would have to do. 

Except, Florido was humid. 

It was humid and hot and his clothes were sticking to his body. But the air conditioning in the hotel room was stuck at a temperature that made the room frigid. And the fucking feeling of the sheets against his skin made him feel like he was seconds away from biting his own arm off if the starchiness didn’t stop feeling so starchy against him. 

He hadn’t even realised what he was doing until the rings were going through. 

“I hope you’re wearing something sexy for me.” 

Despite his pissy mood, Leon did find himself snorting a little. 

“Put on my tightest pair of boxers just for you,” he mused, swallowing back the biting complaints as he tried to settle back onto the bed. 

“Yeah? Gonna mess them up for me, big boy?” 

“God,” Leon groaned but he was smiling. “I don’t even know why I bother sometimes.” 

But you laughed and the sound settled something inside him. “I bet they have little Oilers logos on them too.” 

Leon grinned a little. “Is that something you’re into? Want me to dress up for you?” 

“I would burn them if you wore them in front of me.” 

“If you wanted me naked, you just had to ask,” Leon retorted, his eyes falling shut as you scoffed on the other side of the phone.

“Are you naked now?” 

“Do you want me to be?” 

“Do I want to listen to you jerk off to my fantasies of burning your Oilers boxers? Can’t imagine anything hotter, Draisaitl.” 

Leon hated the way his dick twitched at your words anyways, the way something stirred in his stomach at the idea of you being so desperate to get his clothes off and to have him sprawled out naked and waiting for you. He didn’t tend to like handing over control, but he thinks his curiosity would win out when it came to you. 

“Talk dirty to me, baby. Tell me your sexy, arsonistic dreams.”

…

“Be honest. Do your boxers have little Oilers logos on them?” 

“I am not even dignifying that question with an answer.” 

“I’ll wear a Flames thong, we can match.” 

“I promise you I will not fuck you if you wear any sort of Flames merchandise around me. Instant turn off.”

“Liar.” 

…

Even though Red Deer was a beloved meet up spot for the both of you, Leon wasn’t stupid enough to ignore the obvious opportunity to meet up after a Battle of Alberta game.

Your apartment was one Leon had become familiar with, even though this was technically the first time he had ever stepped foot into it. It felt a little surreal as he walked through the doorway, sliding off his boots and looking around at the apartment that had been the backdrop for more Facetimes than he could even remember. 

His eyes lingered on the couch as a vague memory came to mind, of seeing you sprawled over it with your hand between your legs and your head thrown back as you came for him over the phone after a particularly rough game against LA.

“You just gonna stand there all day?” 

“Maybe,” Leon answered, not seeming to be in any rush as he continued to glance around your apartment before turning to face you. “I wanted to see what my options were for the night.” 

You raised your brows. 

“What? Backing out of our bet now?” Leon mused, feeling his stomach twist in delight at the way your eyes instantly narrowed in defiance. You were going to be difficult tonight, bratty even. 

Good. He liked that. He wanted that.

“You were so confident your Flames would win,” Leon continued, the name tasting like acid on his tongue as he hissed it out. His eyes were glued to you, taking slow steps towards you and feeling a thrill of excitement at the way you refused to back down. “A shame they couldn’t win.” 

“They would have,” you said, just to push his buttons, just to piss him off. “Bad calls can really determine a game.” 

A muscle in his jaw twitched. “Bad calls don’t mean shit when they can’t get the puck in the back of the net.”

Your eyes darted down to his lips as he stood in front of you. “And you did?” 

“Twice,” Leon grinned, sharklike and dangerous and yet, it still didn’t stop you from darting forward to press your lips against his.

Leon was shameless with the groan he let out as he pressed you against the wall, as he tucked his leg between yours and wound his arms around you so he could press you against his body. He was shameless in the way he kissed you, fast and passionate and needy and desperate. He was shameless in the way he muttered what he wanted to do with you, in the way he wanted you, in the stupid deal you had goaded him into a few hours before the game.

It was a herculean task to pull yourselves away from the wall and let you pull him towards your bedroom, but it was worth it once the two of you had managed to tear your clothes off and get on the bed. Leon allowed himself one, two, three seconds to stare at the sight of you spread out on the bed before he crawled over you and completely engulfed your body with his own.

“And that—” You let out a small whine as his teeth nipped the spot behind your ear. “—power play in the second was a bullshit call and we both fucking know it.”

“Fuck,” Leon groaned, his lips pressing short, chaste kisses down the length of your neck. “Do you ever shut up?” 

“Thought you liked my mouth open,” you retorted, breathless and smug and, fuck, if it wasn’t infuriatingly hot to him. As if it wasn’t that damn mouth that was the reason he kept this going when it was far from easy or convenient. 

“I like it full,” he corrected, lifting his head to watch the way you tucked your bottom lip between your teeth. “I like it when you’re too fucked out to talk.” 

Your eyes gleamed with interest. “Then guess you better hurry up. I’ve been hearing a lot of promises since you walked through that door.” 

His eyes narrowed slightly. “Keep your hands above your head. Don’t move.” 

“Is this you cashing in your reward from the bet?” You asked, playful and teasing but still obedient as you reached up to grip the wooden bars of your headboard. “That's all you want from me? To not touch you?” 

Winner gets to do whatever they want for the night.

Leon grinned and it made your stomach twist in delight. “Be good and you’ll find out just what I want and what I will get from you.”

…

“Is that a teddy?” 

“Don’t judge Quacks, he’s been with me through a lot.”

“He is staring into my soul.”

“He is a good judge of character and he says you’re pissy.” 

“Sounds like a very judgemental duck.”

“You two can bond over it.”

…

Somewhere along the line, the visits to that dodgy motel in Red Deer started to lessen.

Leon wasn’t sure when or why but…it just started to happen. It almost felt natural though, something he tried not to think about too deeply. He had just come off one of their longest roadies of the season yet—one that unfortunately resulted in more losses than wins—and he was keyed up, pissed off and in desperate need of some sort of distraction. 

But despite the two days off following the roadie, the idea of sitting in his car to drive down to Red Deer and back just for the sake of a few hours (at most) felt tiring and annoying and just…so much work. 

You had laughed over the phone when Leon had said as much, not sounding all that bothered or surprised by his pissy attitude. If the messages and late night calls shared during the roadie were anything to go by, you had watched the games and knew just how bad the team was playing lately. 

“Want me to come up and kiss the shitty games better?” 

“That’s a three hour drive,” he found himself saying in response. “Both ways.”

You snorted. “Wow, you wouldn’t even let me stay the night? Maybe chivalry is dead.” 

And that…fuck, Leon didn’t realise how badly he wanted that until you said. 

“You should come,” he blurted out. “Come and stay over.” And after a few moments of silence, he added, “I don’t have anything for a few days either.”

Leon wasn’t sure what he expected to come of the offer, but it was a little too late once you had accepted the offer. You messaged him once you were on the road. You sent another when you briefly stopped at Red Deer, taking a picture of your usual motel and sending it with a ‘missing the musty smell already’. You ended up sending your location for the rest of the journey, claiming you couldn’t be bothered to message when you were nearby and that he could just watch your location if he was that desperate to know. 

He didn’t admit that he watched your pin move closer and closer to his house for the last fifteen minutes of your drive. 

Leon kind of expected it to be awkward when you arrived, for the regret to hit and for the heavy realisation to settle that he had let someone else into his space for a prolonged amount of time. 

That never happened. If anything, it was more unsettling to realise just how easily you slipped into his life at home, to see how quickly Bowie accepted you. 

If anything, it made him realise how much he wished the two of you had done this sooner.

…

“Never took you to be the kinda guy to wine and dine a girl.”

“Fuck off.”

“Do you kiss Bowie with that mouth?” 

“No, but I did make you come three—”

“Nuh uh! Not when Bowie can hear, he has innocent ears.” 

…

The trips to Red Deer became nonexistent and instead were replaced with a back and forth of trips between Edmonton and Calgary.

Now, as stupid as his decisions off the ice may be, Leon wasn’t oblivious. He knew that this went beyond the original convenience excuse the two of you had thrown around at the start of this relationship. He knew that no normal person in a ‘sex only’ relationship was driving three hours just to spend a few days with their ‘sex only’ partner. He knew that this was far beyond the original agreement the two of you had agreed to in that dingy Calgary bar after the Oilers lost abysmally. 

But Leon was more than happy to avoid voicing those realisations out loud for as long as he got to keep everything going the way it was. 

Because he liked how things were, despite the initial confusion, and he was unashamedly selfish like that to know that he wasn’t letting it go until he had to. 

And if lying to his teammates to get out of team bonding after a ten day roadie so he could be home when you came over was a part of that? Then so be it.

He missed you. 

“You’re acting like it’s been a million years,” Leon commented, closing the door behind you and placing your bag to the side (rather than the spot in the middle of the entryway you had chosen). 

“It has been a million years,” you said from your spot on the floor, your legs crossed and Bowie happily licking your face. “I’ve been deprived of seeing my favourite boy.” 

Leon rolled his eyes, though it seemed fond. “He misses you too. Pretty sure he recognises your voice through the phone now. He looks extremely disappointed when he goes to the door and you’re not there.”

“Because he’s the smartest boy!” You cooed at the fluffy dog on your lap, grinning widely as he continued to whine and yip happily at you.  

Leon chose to ignore the way his chest tightened at the sight. 

“Did you only miss him?” Leon found himself asking, because apparently he had reached the point of being jealous of his own damn dog.

The amusement was clear on your face when you lifted your head, that grin now directed completely at him. “I never took the Leon Draisaitl to be one to go fishing for compliments.”

Leon all but huffed. “I am not fishing, I am asking.” 

“Because you missed me?” You asked, sounding even more amused. 

“I regret opening the door.” 

“Liar,” you beamed at him, moving Bowie off your lap (who was not happy with the sudden shift in attention) and pushed yourself back onto your feet until you were in front of Leon, arms wound around his neck as you placed an obnoxiously loud, smacking kiss onto his cheek. “Better?” 

“You’re getting there,” he said, trying to sound dismissive and unbothered but the smile growing on his face didn’t help. 

You shook your head, almost looking as fond as he felt. “Hurry up and kiss me then, Draisaitl, it’s been a million years.” 

Leon rolled his eyes, but he happily complied. 

…

“That goal in the third against the Kings was hot.” 

“You watched?” 

“You sound surprised whenever I tell you I watch your games.” 

“The game was on at the same time as the Flames game.”

“Yeah but the Flames game didn’t have your grumpy face on the screen.” 

…

Leon realised that things had to change when Connor, of all people, was the one pointing out just how long this stupid thing between the both of you had been going on.

Not on purpose, which somehow made the whole thing ten times worse. 

The thrill of hate sex hadn’t been a solid excuse for the relationship between you two after the third or fourth hookup. No hate sex was that good to commute for it, no matter what anybody says. And the convenience argument quickly followed, even if the two of you clung onto it with both hands in the early months of the relationship.

And as the relationship grew and bloomed, you both seemed happy enough to ignore labelling it all together. 

Which was pretty fucking stupid, when Leon really thought about it. Even more so when Connor was the one connecting the dots for him.

“So.” 

Leon didn’t even bother looking up, his gaze focused on his skates as muscle memory took over, looping and tightening the laces on his skates before practice. “So?” 

“It’s almost been a year,” Connor said, standing in front of Leon’s stall with half of his gear on and his hands on his hips. “And I respect that you want to keep your privacy but…”

Leon paused, looking up at Connor with his brows furrowed. “What?” 

“I thought we were friends,” Connor frowned. “Good friends.” 

Leon blinked. “We are? What’s that got to do with anything?”

Connor stared at him like he was the one going crazy. “So you’re going to finally bring her over for dinner on Sunday? Lauren wants to meet her too.”

Leon blinked again. “Who?” 

Connor sighed, heavy and exasperated. “Your girlfriend, Leon. The one you have been hiding away for the last year.”

And, in that moment, Leon had come to a handful of realisations that were not ideal to deal with a few minutes before a hard practice on the run up to playoffs. Especially not when it had been triggered by words from the ‘more robot than human’ Connor McDavid.

He hadn’t realised the whole thing between you both had been going on for almost a year. He hadn’t realised the people around him were that observant, that they figured out he had been seeing the same person rather than random flings during the season like he had done in previous years. He hadn’t realised how much he wanted to call you his girlfriend until he realised he couldn’t look Connor in the eyes and say with conviction that yes, you were in fact his girlfriend. 

Leon realised a lot. 

“Raincheck?” Leon blurted out before he could stop himself, filing away the epiphany and Connor’s disappointed captain face to the back of his mind for the remainder of the practice so he didn’t deck it on the ice. 

He was the first one out of the locker room after practice before Connor could catch him again.

…

“Hey, you’re still coming over this weekend, right?” 

“Uh, yeah, just like we planned. Why? Did something come up?” 

“Yes. No! No, it didn’t. I just…I just need to talk to you about something.”

“How ominous.”

…

Leon had probably paced the distance to Germany and back around his living room by the time you arrived, much to Bowie’s displeasure as he watched from his spot on the couch with only slightly judgemental eyes.

In the days since his conversation with Connor, most of his thoughts had been surrounding what he wanted to say to you. He wasn’t stupid enough to think you didn’t feel something for him, he knew you had to or you wouldn’t be driving up to Edmonton every other week to see him. But he didn’t know if you would want more, he didn’t know if you would want a label.

He didn’t know if pointing out the very thing the two of you had been ignoring for the last year was going to completely fuck it up and, selfishly, he really did not want to lose you. 

It was almost ironic that you didn’t even knock on the door when you arrived, using the damn spare key he gave you to walk straight into the house like it was normal. Because it was normal for the two of you, it had been normal for months.

And yet, the only thing Leon could say as you walked through the door was, “where is your bag?” 

“In the car,” you said as you closed the door behind you but made no move to take your jacket off or even pull your boots off.

Suddenly, Leon felt on edge. “Why didn’t you bring it in?” 

You stayed where you were, too far away from him, too far away for him to reach out for you. “Is there a reason for me to bring it in?” 

“I—” Leon frowned, his chest twisting uncomfortably. “What? Of course there is. You’re staying the weekend, no?” 

“Am I?” You asked, your hands clenched into tight fists by your side. Your voice was shaky, unsure. He had never heard it like that before, and he never wanted to hear it like that ever again. Especially when it came to him. “Because from the way you’ve been acting the last few days, it feels like you are just trying to let me down nicely and it’s—”

“I want to be your boyfriend,” Leon blurted out.

You stared at him, lips parted in surprise.

“I—fuck, I had a whole thing I was meant to say before that,” Leon grumbled to himself, shaking his head as he closed the distance between you both. And for the first time in days, his head felt clear as he stood in front of you, his hands cupping your face because he needed to be touching you before he felt like his whole body would explode. “We are so far past this whole convenience bullshit.” 

You snorted despite yourself, your lips twitching upwards as your hands reached for him. “Yeah, I think we got past that after the reception lady at the Red Deer motel asked us if we knew we had collected enough membership points to get a room free for a whole weekend.”

Leon didn’t even bother holding his smile back. “I want this. I want you. I want to tell people that you’re my girlfriend.” He paused, his nose scrunching up a little. “Well, not everyone. They can mind their own business, but the people that matter. I want to tell them that you’re my girl, even if you’re a fucking Flames fan, and I’m yours.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not a Flames fan. Not really. Not anymore.”

Leon raised his brows. “Finally joined the better side?” 

“My boyfriend put up a really convincing argument,” you said, your hands twisting the fabric of his hoodie between your fingers before you pulled him closer.

“Your boyfriend sounds like a smart man,” Leon murmured, surprised he could even hear himself talk over the sound of his thumping chest.

“Eh, I’m only really with him for his dog,” you teased, laughing as Leon groaned and tugged you closer.

“Brat,” he grumbled against your lips, trying (and failing) to hide the fondness in his voice as he leaned down to kiss you.

“You love it,” you retorted.

Leon’s face softened as he pulled back enough to look at you. “Yeah. I do.”

…

“Let me get this straight, you only realised you wanted me to be your girlfriend because of Connor?” 

“Shut up.” 

“Wow, baby, you got love advice for McJesus.” 

“Please stop talking about Connor whilst you are naked in my bed.”

.

[fullfriendnerdclutch]

Rites: Valentine

Same-sex relationship is still illegal in my country and punishable with prison term, that's why me and my boyfriend always have to lay low in public and even also took some extra measures in private to ensure our safety. But, for Valentine's Day, we always did something special for the past 2 years and we absolutely planned to do it again this year. Last year it was two stereotypical American college football jocks, this year.....well, we wanted something different

We stumbled upon this opportunity during our research about moving out from our country and settle in an entirely different one. They helped people to relocate for short-term, like quick break from daily living, to long-term such as a complete change of life. Was it the alcohol or what that clouded our judgment back then, but we followed through the procedure back at that day from that shady website and found ourselves the following morning not next to each other and in a completely different country altogether. It was chaotic but we managed to found each other and have the best sex of our relationship to that date before all in a sudden ripped away from the two fine dadbod to return to our ordinary life when the time was up

This year, we're much more well-planned and prepared as we decided to go to Brazil to celebrate our 3rd Valentine together. Spotting that Valentine falls on Friday this year, we also requested a return back to our body by Sunday evening in our country timezone because we still need to go to work on Monday after all

"Ready?"

"Always. Directly DM me, okay?"

"Sure thing, babe,"

"Okay, good night,"

---

I know it's our third time doing this, but it's always giving me such chills to open my eyes and found myself to not be in bed but actually in the middle of doing something inside a completely different body. We did mention to the agency to land us inside fit, 21-35 years old age group Brazilian men, but the weight of it really only hit when you experienced it, and it's certainly true for this one because this guy I'm in is thick!

It's Friday morning here in Rio, and I'm inside this huge tatted hunk named Gonzalo, his buzzcut and overall style makes him look very intimidating but there's a charming side to this handsome stud that I know I won't be able to resist if he flashes his smile to me. A small dog on a leash that I held added another element of surprise because I'm terrified of dog and I really cannot touch dog but I think Gonzalo here has no problem with it, right? I quickly take a selfie of myself and directly send the picture to my boyfriend's Insta as Gonzalo's insta is accessible anyway. Ohhh....he's typing right away, so he logged in to his account already huh......I wonder how he looks like

"Morning, handsome stranger. Just finished with my morning run, I'm reeked. Name's Joao,"

Fuck me, he's looking like a snack! Gonzalo's memory is filled with women and these repeated names of Carla that appeared in a lot of the memory, a girlfriend of Gonzalo apparently, but sorry to that woman, boyfriend is not going to celebrate Valentine's Day with her this year. I started to add my own input to Gonzalo's mind and make this body heated for the snack that is Joao on my screen, as I type my reply stating my interest to come over to check out how reeked he is. This two dudes might not actually know each other, but we don't really care about all that because what mattered for now is the fact that my boyfriend is inside of that man and I want to give him the love and fucking he deserved for his Valentine's Day

Once I receive the detail of his apartment location and another sultry selfie of his already taking off his musky cap and sweaty tanktop, I'm headed his way with the dog coming along with me.

The temperature in Rio is not that different with our hometown, so I find no problem strutting around over here through the walkways to the apartment located around 25 minutes walk from Gonzalo's residence. The people is definitely a lot more diverse and wearing a much-more revealing clothes compared to my hometown, but really, my mind just wandered to the idea of my boyfriend inside that taut Brazilian twunk, probably still sweaty with almost no clothings on already waiting for me. The colors of the street, the sight and senses of a new city, everything becomes secondary as I can feel the throbbing meat is accustomed to its owner's gay thoughts and just ready to be released from its cotton prison.

When I finally ring the bell of his apartment unit, the door opened quickly to the sight I simply cannot resist. I instantly lunged at him for a kiss and before long, we're already stripped naked from all our clothings as we consummate our Brazilian outings right here in this apartment while the sun shines nicely on us and the neighbors clearly can see us fucking each other but not gonna call police on us

[utilitycaster]

i am so curious what you think about fearne as a character, especially in the full context of this campaign, and how she ranks in terms of contributing good storytelling. she was consistently my least favorite (ie., lovely and entertaining to watch, but not personally interesting or dimensional in a way that made me care, and more often than not, frustratingly avoidant of plot or depth) and i'm wondering how much you'd relate to that. i'm interested in hearing an alternate perspective! this is an invitation for as much of your thoughts as you have them, because i love reading your posts and meta. have a great day <3

Hey anon, thank you!

I find myself in an awkward place here because I do like Fearne for a couple reasons, and I think a major one is because I think Ashley is one of the only people at the table who actually explored, in-character, that Fearne was an indecisive person who was terrified of making the wrong choices (notably during both the aftermath of the first Otohan fight, and during the whole course of Shardgate). Like, Fearne's disconnect at times from the world, and moments of self-centeredness, and indecision all felt very true to Ashley's original concept both in EXU Prime and the general concept of fey morality. I also think that in a campaign with a number of fraught familial relationships that were underserved, Fearne's was, while still not given the time I wish it had been, one of the strongest. Fearne deciding, after meeting her missing parents, that she wasn't sure if she liked them felt very earned and true, and it felt like she put in the work when she later spoke to them during the party's time resting in the Feywild.

I also give Fearne something of a pass because I think she was put in perhaps the least enviable spot of all this campaign, and that's saying something. While I think pretty much every character would have been much, much better had we focused more on their backstory and exploring and resolving that, Ashley's intended darker fairytale concept was just...abandoned. Like we got Ligament Manor and Morri, and they were great! But there was no plot for her in the feywild other than "your parents are caught up in this moon thing, and your birth father is also caught up in this moon thing". The first part came up very early and got quickly overshadowed by the rest of the whole Bassuras pile-up, and the second part came out right before the Ruidus scouting mission and was perhaps one of the worst victims of the late campaign breakneck pacing. Honestly, a lot of the feywild stuff felt oddly insubstantial - we know that breaking the fey key apparently did something, and that breaking up the meeting in Pravenier prevented Fey allies from attacking Vox Machina at the key in the end (though it's hard to say exactly what that would have entailed), but like...was the Seelie Court working in opposition? Were there any extraplanar allies in the Accord? Was the Feywild at risk here, as Ollie believed it to be? Because it never entered into Bells Hells' considerations! All the Feywild plot threads just went nowhere. Even their greatest fey ally, Ira, was far more motivated by his own dislike of Ludinus than any loyalty to Fearne; the party didn't really need to cultivate him as an ally, he just showed up.

And then, of course, there's the fact that Fearne was a Ruidusborn, but she wasn't THE Ruidusborn, she wasn't exaltant, that was Imogen - and the cool thing she did get, the spark of Rau'shan, was a great moment but was, like Ashton's titan abilities, mechanical and some cool scenes only but not relevant to Predathos in a meaningful way any more so than like, Chetney's ability to turn into a wolf was. I don't even think Ashley was being particularly indecisive, or rather, the Zathuda and Yu "should we kill them or no" scenes were excruciating in the lack of decision, but I feel that the problem was she was given absolutely nothing to fucking work with and that's not her fault. I think it's a testament to Ashley's ability as an actor that I do feel she had depth and even a little character development because she was essentially pushed into a thankless second fiddle role. When I think of the people who actually made an effort to do small solo scenes or seek other people out, Fearne praying to the Wildmother or Raven Queen and pickpocketing scenes stand out as bright spots.

So I think it's valid to be frustrated or not vibe, but I think it's entirely a DM-ing problem. This campaign was really not made to accommodate Fearne's concept.

[this-is-exorsexism]

i'm seeing a rise right now of binary trans people saying how nonbinary oppression is very different from trans oppression. spoiler: they don't mean the fact that we experience exorsexism and they don't.

every time in the last few days i've seen this the phrasing has already been deeply exorsexist. "nonbinary vs trans", as if most nonbinary people aren't trans themselves. it's also always "nonbinary = not medically transitioning" and "not medically transitioning = less oppressed", which is not how any of this works. they also seem to think that all medical transition is visible from the outside. it's not. i want a hysterectomy one day. it's medical transition. you can't see it from the outside. firstly, why are you assuming nonbinary people who medically transition don't exist? are you just acting like they're trans men and women? is your distinction between "trans" and "nonbinary" that trans people medically transition while nonbinary people don't? fuck your truscum ass. the amount of scrutiny, discomfort, harassment, violence you face also isn't fully related to whether you medically transition or not. i've been asked invasive questions about my genitals ever since i hit puberty. even fellow transgender people have weird ways of trying to figure out what my "real gender" is, i.e. what my genitals are but you all aren't ready for that conversation. i've been harassed in public bathrooms. i've faced dismissal of my actual problem from doctors due to my gender. people call me he and she in mostly equal amounts. none of this lines up with their narrative of the non-medically transitioning nonbinary person who is always perceived as one binary gender (and that gender is usually female because everyone thinks we're women lite). what i don't (currently) have to deal with is getting a gender dysphoria diagnosis, fight for gender-affirming medical care, worry about my prescription being taken away. this isn't exclusive to nonbinary people though. there are binary trans people who don't medically transition, too, but i guess according to this idea soaked in transmedicalism, these people don't exist, or you're just misgendering them as nonbinary.

a lot of binary transgender people treat us the way cisgender people treat them. many seem to feel threatened that us weirdos who won't choose a side have quite a lot in common with them, actually.

when nonbinary people talk about exorsexist oppression, we're either straight up told to shut up or not listened to at all. we're told we're being divisive by talking about our own experiences (and we have to, because again, research doesn't really include us), when the people doing the dividing are binary trans people going "we have nothing in common with those people", treating us like we cannot be trans etc. it's a tale as old as time: the more privileged people within a group separating themselves from the less "respectable"/more marginalised people within the group and then accusing them of being divisive.

i'm sick and tired of binary transgender people theorising about what it's like being nonbinary. we're not hypotheticals. we're not thought experiments. we're real human beings you can listen to.

yes, our experiences are a bit different. but not because nonbinary people are less oppressed. because nonbinary people experience an extra layer of oppression that binary trans people don't: exorsexism.

[luvvictoria]

The breaking point

+ pairings. simon "ghost" riley x f!reader

+ tags. romance, slow-burn, action-packed military romance with angst and tension

+ summary. In the heat of lingering grief and tension from the day's losses, Ghost and Riley confront each other in a raw, emotionally charged argument. Accusations fly as Riley accuses Ghost of being overprotective, while Ghost reveals his deep-seated fear of losing Riley. Their words cut deep, exposing vulnerabilities and the heavy burdens they carry. Ultimately, the confrontation forces both to face the painful reality of their intertwined lives—a love marred by duty and the ever-present specter of loss, leaving them heartbroken and forever changed.

+ materialist ; prev. part ; next part.

+ a/n. eated Argument → 👀 Tension Explosion. Reblog with your favorite line! It would help me to grow my account !! Thank you in advance. Thank you so much for your support ! It means very much to me! Also if you want to take a little peek at the next chapter here is my ko-fi !!

The air in the barracks was thick with the residue of exhaustion and sorrow — a lingering reminder of the day's brutal losses. Yet, as the weight of that grief settled over you both, a different kind of storm was gathering, one fueled by simmering frustrations and the unbearable burden of unspoken truths.

You couldn’t take it any longer. With a force born of years of pent-up emotion, you slammed the locker door shut. The metallic crash echoed down the silent corridor like a death knell. “What the fuck is your problem, Riley?” you barked, your voice trembling with anger and despair.

Across the room, Ghost stood rigidly, his arms folded over a chest that had seen too many battles to know peace. His normally unreadable eyes now burned with an intensity that made your heart ache. “My problem?” he snapped, his tone icy. “You mean besides the fact that you almost got yourself killed out there?”

Your laughter was bitter, raw with the sting of betrayal. “I was doing my job, Ghost. Maybe if you weren’t so damn obsessed with watching every step I take, I wouldn’t have to dance with death!” Each word came out sharper than the last, each syllable laced with a pain you couldn’t mask.

He took a step forward, the space between you shrinking until the air felt heavy with everything you both couldn’t say. “Obsessed? You think this is some kind of game? I’ve seen the nightmares. Every time you walk into a firefight, I see your face in the flames, and I— ” His voice broke, a fleeting crack in his controlled exterior.

“You’re suffocating me!” you cried, voice raw. “I’m not a damn child who needs rescuing every time I get hurt. I’m not your project to fix!” The anger in your voice mingled with a deep sorrow, each word a desperate plea to be understood.

Ghost’s eyes darkened with a pain that went deeper than the scars on his soul. “And you think it’s that simple? That if you just step away from my concern, I won’t feel this... this crushing fear? Every moment I see you out there, risking everything, I’m haunted by the thought of losing you. But you—” His voice faltered, swallowed by the enormity of his own heartbreak. “You never let me in. You never let me share that fear with you.”

A single tear glistened in the corner of your eye, betraying the storm inside you. “You don’t get it, do you?” you whispered, voice cracking. “I’m tired of being seen as some liability, some broken soldier who needs saving. I’m out there because I have a job to do, because I want to make a difference — even if it means walking right into hell.”

For a long, agonizing moment, the silence between you was a chasm of shared pain. Ghost’s fists clenched at his sides, his entire body trembling with the raw intensity of the emotion he’d spent years burying. “I’m not trying to control you,” he finally managed, his voice low and ragged. “I’m trying to protect you. Every day, I live with the terror of waking up to a world where you’re gone. I can’t— I won’t—watch you die. Not again.”

Your heart ached at his confession, the truth behind his harsh words now laid bare. “But I’m not dying,” you murmured, a tear rolling down your cheek. “I’m fighting. I’m surviving. And I need to do that without feeling like every step I take is a betrayal to you.” The admission was both a challenge and a plea — a desperate bid to be seen as more than just a fragile piece of his shattered world.

The words hung in the air, heavy with all the pain, fear, and love that had been suppressed for too long. Ghost’s eyes shone with unshed tears, his face contorted in anguish as he fought against the tide of his own emotions. “Then why can’t you let me in?” he demanded, voice cracking. “Why do you push me away when all I ever wanted was to be there for you?”

Your own defenses crumbled under the weight of his vulnerability. “Because every time you get close, I’m reminded of what I can’t lose,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t bear the thought of you sharing this burden. I’m already drowning in it.”

For one excruciating heartbeat, you both stood there — two souls caught in the merciless grip of war, bound by duty and haunted by loss. The noise of the outside world faded into a distant echo as the pain between you surged to the forefront. The fierce argument that had erupted was no longer just about blame or control — it was a raw, unfiltered manifestation of the terror of losing each other, of confronting the limits of what you both could bear.

And then, with a final, shuddering breath, Ghost stepped back. “This conversation is over,” he said, voice hollow, as he turned away. The sound of his retreat was a knife twisting in your heart, leaving you standing alone in the suffocating silence of your own making.

In that shattering moment, as the weight of all your shared grief and fear pressed down, you realized that this was more than an argument. It was the painful, inevitable breaking point where love and duty collided, leaving both of you raw, exposed, and heartbreakingly human.

tags : @hao-ming-8 @jajuska @pinkpookiebear @illuminwtesz

[cambankromyy]

THE ISLAND LOOKOUT (pt.12): after - (smau & irl au) childhood bsf!rafe cameron x thornton!reader

series masterlist; general masterlist; taglist

warning/an; smut!!!!! for those who have been waiting & lowk emotional aftermath... also this is a pt.2 of the previous chapter, kinda like a continuation

part 11 - part 12 - part 13

after midsummers, at tannyhill;

tannyhill’s alive with energy, the party still raging even as you make your way upstairs. everyone’s still drunk, still reckless, still not ready to let go of the night.

john b practically kicks open the door to sarahs room, spinning around like he’s just won something. "god, i love rich people houses."

"my house," sarah corrects, flopping onto her bed.

jj, of course, makes himself at home immediately, heading straight for the minibar like he owns the place. you follow, grabbing whatever bottle he shoves into your hands while he digs through the stash.

"your house is a minibar away from a full nightclub," he mutters, twisting off a cap.

you're mid-pour when jj suddenly stops, his eyes flicking past you. you glance over your shoulder—just in time to catch sarah practically yanking john b onto the bed, her hands already in his hair, his hands already wandering, both of them completely dismissive to the fact that they’re not alone.

jj stares for a second, then clutches his chest like he’s about to cry. "ladies and gentlemen… true love."

you snort into your drink, and sarah barely pulls away, just flips jj off before going right back to whatever she was doing. jj grins, undeterred. "john b, my brother, my captain, my king. you’re an inspiration, really."

john b doesn’t even acknowledge him, too busy with sarah, who groans against his mouth before finally pulling back. "can you fuck off, jayj?"

jj throws his arms out dramatically, holding back a laugh. "this is sick. this is so sick."

sarah gives the nastiest side eye, and you don’t need to be told twice. you grab jj’s arm, dragging him out before you have to witness any more. the door clicking shut behind you.

jj looks at you, lips parted in mock horror. "truly, the king and queen of PDA."

you snort. "you act like this is new information."

he sighs dramatically, throwing an arm around your shoulders again. "guess that means we gotta fend for ourselves now, huh?"

you roll your eyes, but you don’t push him away.

jj grins. "c’mon. let’s be fun."

you don’t argue.

somewhere between stealing more drinks from sarah’s stash and arguing over what to do next, you and jj end up sprawled across the couch in the middle of tannyhill’s ridiculous sitting room. pope and cleo were supposed to come back with you at first, but decided they were better off heading home after getting sick of babysitting everyone else. kiara's mom was being a bitch as usual so they left before they could get into an argument. so now it’s just you and jj, the house around you too big, too empty, still buzzing from the alcohol.

jj groans, dragging a hand down his face. "you take forever to pick a song."

you’re curled up against the armrest, legs tucked beneath you, scrolling through your phone like the fate of the night depends on whatever song you choose next. everything’s hazy, warm, the alcohol making it harder to focus, but you’re trying. trying to land on something that makes everything feel right.

"i’m curating a vibe," you mumble.

jj mutters something under his breath, then suddenly—he swipes the phone straight out of your hands.

"jj!" you yelp, sitting up fast, reaching for it, but it’s too late. he’s already tossing it across the room.

your phone lands on an armchair with a soft thud, and the song you had just clicked starts playing anyway, filling the space between you. jj just stretches his arms behind his head, smug as ever. "problem solved."

you gape at him, fingers flexing like you’re actually considering throwing hands. jj watches you, waiting for the explosion, waiting for the snarky comeback, but it doesn’t come.

something feels off. not bad, not wrong, just—off. like a weight pressing on your chest, like a second thought that shouldn’t even exist right now.

your jaw clenches, and you roll your eyes instead, sinking back into the couch, crossing your arms tight over your chest. "you’re so annoying."

jj grins. "huh? what? what’d i do?"

he’s messing with you. you both know exactly what he did. you shake your head, more flustered than pissed now, looking away like you don’t want to meet his eyes.

jj notices, and for the first time all night, neither of you have anything to say.

the silence stretches—not awkward, not really, just… heavy.

his knee bumps into yours, and neither of you move away. your arms uncross. your fingers twitch against your thigh. jj’s watching you like he’s waiting for something.

you should be into this. it’s jj, he’s hot, you’re drunk, and this is exactly what you need—something easy, something fun, something that won’t make your head spin.

his gaze flickers to your mouth, his breath warm against your skin. it’d be so easy. too easy. you're overthinking it, because jj's voice jolts you back to reality.

"you good?"

jj’s voice is low, rough around the edges, barely audible over the music still playing somewhere in the background. his fingers trail along your hip, thumb pressing into the waistband of your shorts like he’s waiting for you to stop him.

you take a breath—sharp, unsteady. your skin is buzzing, flushed from the alcohol, from the heat of his body against yours, from the way his hands skim higher, fingertips teasing at bare skin. everything feels warm, hazy, like your head’s wrapped in cotton.

you force a smirk, tilting your chin up. "why wouldn’t i be?"

he hums like he doesn’t believe you, but he doesn’t stop. doesn’t pull away. instead, he leans in, breath hot against your jaw as his lips graze over your pulse. you tip your head back, giving him more access, letting his mouth move down, down—

and then it happens. like a reflex, like something automatic, something you can’t control.

rafe.

the thought flickers through your mind like static. there, then gone. quick enough to ignore.

you exhale sharply, shoving it down, burying it beneath the feeling of jj’s hands slipping under your shirt, his fingers splaying across your ribs.

"what?" he murmurs against your throat, noticing the way your body stiffens for half a second before you relax again.

"nothing," you lie, gripping the back of his neck and pulling him in to kiss you harder, desperate to overwrite the feeling creeping up your spine. you throw your leg over him, now straddling him.

you don’t want to think. you just want this—something easy, something fun, something that doesn’t mean anything.

his hands slide lower, gripping your waist, and down to your ass. you let yourself melt into it, let yourself move with him, let yourself forget.

but then his teeth graze your collarbone, sharp and fleeting, and something about it makes you think. think about—

nevermind.

your stomach twists. you feel dizzy for a second, head spinning��not from the alcohol, not from jj, but from the way your brain keeps betraying you.

jj’s mouth moves back to yours, swallowing whatever thought was about to slip out. his hands are sure, confident.

you let him kiss you. let him touch you. let him take whatever he wants. because maybe if you let this happen, if you just lose yourself in it, then the thoughts will stop. then rafe will stop.

so you don’t stop.

you just close your eyes and let it happen.

jj breaks the kiss to blaze a trail down your neck, sucking and biting like he's done this a million times before, which he probably has.

his mouth moves back to meet yours, grinning against your lips and pulling back just enough to look at you with lidded eyes, pupils blown wide with desire. your hands move down to his bulge, palming him over his pants.

he groans as his fingers tangle in your hair, gripping gently, guiding your head downwards.

he leans back against the couch, watching you with a hungry gaze as you settle between his legs. the bulge in his shorts is unmistakable, straining against the fabric. he shifts his hips, pushing the waistband down just enough to free himself.

you take a shaky breath, trying to ignore the way your mind keeps wandering to places it shouldn't. jj isn't rafe, and this isn't about rafe. It's just you and jj, and this is what you want.

wrapping a hand around the base of his cock, you lean in, breathing in the musky scent of him before taking him into your mouth. he's warm and hard, the skin velvety soft. you swirl your tongue around the tip, tasting the saltiness of his skin.

"fuck," jj groans, head falling back against the couch as you start to move. his fingers tighten in your hair, not pushing, just holding on as you work. his breath comes in short pants, and you can feel the way his body tenses, muscles flexing under your hands.

his grip on your hair tightens, and his hips jerk forward slightly, not enough to hurt you, but enough to show he's getting close. "shit, yn," he gasps out, voice strained.

you pull back, releasing him from your mouth with a soft pop. kooking up at him, you smirk, running your hand along his length, giving yourself a break. he looks down at you, making eyecontact before he throws his head back, groaning. you take that as a sign to go back to using your mouth, sucking on his dick, gagging as it hits the back of your throat.

jj's grip on your hair tightens, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps as you continue working him with your mouth. His hips start to rock slightly, thrusting up to meet your movements.

his words dissolve into a low moan, and suddenly his body goes rigid. he tenses, fingers gripping your hair tightly as he lets out a guttural groan, his cock pulsing in your mouth as he comes hard.

you feel the hot, salty spurts of his release hit the back of your throat, and you swallow instinctively, working him through it until he slumps back against the couch, chest heaving.

"holy shit," jj pants, looking down at you with a dazed, satisfied grin. "that was... fuck, that was really good, Roni."

you wipe the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand, letting out a breathless laugh as jj pulls you up, crashing his lips against yours again. it’s messy, desperate, his hands roaming like he’s trying to make up for lost time.

but then—

your brain does it again.

rafe.

you freeze for half a second before forcing yourself to push through it, kissing jj harder like you can chase the thought away. you tangle your fingers in his hair, dragging your nails against his scalp, but even when he groans into your mouth, it doesn’t help. it doesn’t make it stop.

jj moves to kiss down your jaw, sucking a mark into your neck, and for some reason, it makes your stomach twist. it feels wrong.

"wait," you mumble, barely audible. jj doesn’t hear you, not at first.

you press a hand against his chest. "jj, wait."

he pulls back immediately, eyes flicking to yours, breathing heavy. "what?"

"i’m just—" you shake your head, exhaling. "i’m tired. we should go to sleep."

jj studies your face for a second, like he’s trying to read something in it. his hands are still on you, but they’ve softened, looser now.

then, he nods. just like that.

"yeah," he mutters, licking his lips. "yeah, okay."

you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, nodding as you shift off his lap, ignoring the way your skin still tingles where his hands had been.

jj doesn’t question it. doesn’t push. just grabs the blanket off the back of the couch and tosses it over both of you.

"night, roni," he murmurs, voice quiet in the dark.

"night, jj," you whisper back.

but sleep doesn’t come easy. not when your head is spinning, not when you’re still buzzing, not when you know exactly why you stopped.

tags: @italk2god@angelicameron@marleymarleymarleymarley, @queenvane64, @raeven-marie43@idiotussupremus@sereneera@yesshewrites1@inlovewithchriss@ethanthequeefqueen@amterasuu@popou61@drewsstars@yannew@anothertimegirl@flvredcas@yootvi@mrsdrewstarkeyy @niaunofficial@cooper8224 @rafegetinmybed @pogueprincesa@6r4cie@adalia-lovelace@bee-43@drewrry@masongetinmybed@defnotayonna@lcversvoid@my-name-is-baby@lolasangelz@polli05927@laniirackssss@rafecameronswifeyy@starsval@hypnotizedstarkey@wintercrows@d-daxx@dontknow3m@jjasmiineee

[lobautumny]

Not to mention shit like the speakers that are installed in a bunch of public spaces that play extremely loud sounds at a very high pitch that are specifically designed to not be audible to adults but to be extremely uncomfortable for children, to dissuade "dangerous antisocial behaviors" like... loitering. The horror.

A bunch of shitty adults act like it's remotely surprising that kids don't go outside and hang out with their friends anymore when, like, how and when and where are they supposed to do that? This toy knows your ass is too lazy to drive your kids anywhere that isn't on the way to somewhere that you wanted to go anyways more than once per month, and nearly a century of constant "you can't trust your neighbors" propaganda (red scare, gang fearmongering, muslim fearmongering, drug fearmongering, etc.) has left a ton of adults terrified of every unattended child they see outside, as well as being increasingly unwilling to let their own kids out of their sight for anything other than going to school. Also, when a given kid does have the means to hang out with friends on a regular basis, where do they have that they can go other than each other's houses? God knows that for the last several decades, the economy's been too shit for average working-class parents to give their kids an allowance, everything is extremely expensive, and there's never been less options for places kids can simply exist and hang out at outside.

Of fucking course kids are sitting inside on they phone all the damn time. They don't have anything else to do. Adults drove them away from everything else they could be doing because allowing children to exist anywhere is just too much of a hassle for anyone to bother dealing with. I mean, fuck, kids (especially non-white kids) can't even fucking play with toys outside anymore without running the risk of a cop shooting them in the head because they thought the bright orange Nerf blaster was a real gun (treated as a simple mistake, the cop gets suspended for a couple months and then gets to return to the force like nothing happened).

The fact of the matter is that the world in which we currently live fucking hates children. Children aren't treated as people. They're treated as political pawns, scapegoats, or property at best, and active threats at worst. Their suffering doesn't matter until they die, but then when they die, it's always "a freak tragedy that we simply could not have anticipated and cannot do anything to prevent future instances of." It's all reduced to abstract numbers that adults can shake their heads at, pretend to feel bad for a while, and then proceed to do fucking nothing about while another school gets shot up every week, and we all pretend it's normal because nobody wants to fucking address the fact that the way we treat children is beyond disgusting and unhealthy. We talk all the time about the online child grooming epidemic, cleverly point out how social media algorithms massively contribute to the problem and the platforms themselves knowingly do nothing about it, and then we all collectively shrug and look the other way. "Not my problem to deal with," everyone collectively says in unison. "It's not my kid," they say, until it is their kid, at which point it's yet another fucking "freak tragedy that could not have been prevented," and so it goes.

But god forbid a kid says they're queer and receives anything other than brutal punishment and bullying for it. Then, suddenly, by magic, everyone is an activist, everyone is a fucking expert on the online grooming problem as though they aren't so tech-illiterate that they're falling for AI boomerslop on Facebook, and everyone has a PhD in biology, and everyone has Opinions and is calling up their local legislators asking for quick, decisive action to be taken against this new social contagion corrupting our youth and for kids to be ripped away from their supportive parents and put into abusive foster programs. This toy knows that it has long since left the scope of the original point, but it's just so fucking angry. Ever since it was in middle school, it's known more people who were abused as kids or otherwise have extremely strenuous relationships with the adults in their lives than people who had what most people would try to convince you was a "normal" childhood in which they developed remotely positive relationships with the adults around them and were not abused and did not develop immense trauma as the direct result of shitty actions taken by malicious, stupid, or neglectful adults in their lives.

Children deserve far better than the world we have forced them to live in.

"kids these days don't loiter or act rebellious enough any more" kids just existing in public are more criminalized and surveilled than ever. almost every western country is running a panic about youth crime and how random teens standing awkwardly are a threat to civilization, and pushing for much more punitive laws. tons of states and powerful lobbies are pushing "parental right laws" that restrict the civil rights of minors even more. policing is first and foremost targeting youths, especially from low income and majority immigrant neighbourhoods. if a kid mildly steps out of line or says something awkward online or in a public space half a dozen people can whip up their phone and start mass harassment campaigns. and tech companies are now restricting access to the internet, the last way many teens can talk to each other freely and reach out to people outside family and school.

anyhow i think people really need to start giving kids at least a tiny bit more grace instead of making smug posts about how uncool they are compared to your youth days, you fucking twats

[emma-is-swaggy-and-epic]

Happy valentine's day, i've been getting into sonic.exe lately so here's my rendition of an amy.exe

Watch the SPEEDpaint here!!! [LINK]

LORE UNDER THE CUT!!! (CW: mentions of gore and unreality...kinda, there's a TLDR at the end)

A few years after sonic CD was released, a strange cartridge for the game was created. Seemingly: the game had a mind of it's own; with it having strange anomalies such as aggressively telling players to stop controlling sonic after playing through the first few levels, weird reddish blobs of pixels could be seen in the background that look almost like gore to some people (though what they actually are is unclear due to them being few and far between and seem to be slightly obscured by various background elements) and a notable lack of other characters or enemies. Strangely though, the most well known anomaly related to this version of the game is an unusually distorted version of amy rose; as the years went by and the game became more accessable to the public via online emulators, many have reported her appearence changing more and more as time went on. When the cartridge was first discovered: her design mostly stayed true to her original, classic look though as years went by, she started looking more similar to her modern design (more notably so after rips of the game were posted to the internet). Occasionally, the altered version of amy would appear mid-gameplay and deliver threatening messages to the player about how she hates them, how they're getting in her way, etc. When played using an emulator, the game is known to install viruses onto whatever device the player is using in that moment. When the game was ripped, it was revealed that the name of the file was simply "phantom.exe"

What nobody knows about this version of the game, is that the cartridge was special in the sense that the world inside it was sentient; unlike the other versions of sonic CD: this specific cartridge had contained the actual classic sonic universe as a whole and the game was just a front, almost like another dimension that you cannot enter. All of the anomalies listed were the result of a strange event within the universe; with amy coming across the phantom ruby and it corrupting her, causing her to become a murderous fiend with a jealousy problem. Due to the unstable nature of an entire universe existing within such a tiny object like a game cartridge: amy has become aware of the fact that she is in a video game and is immensely jealous of the player for controlling sonic, although due to them living in another universe, she knows she cannot harm them so she just installs viruses onto their computer instead. After the game was ripped onto the internet and was exposed to a more modern culture than one from the 90's, amy's design and mannerisms slowly became more similar to that of the version of her in modern sonic games.

TLDR: there exists a version of sonic CD where the classic sonic universe just....EXISTS inside it (like the actual one, not just a game) and in that version of the universe: amy found the phantom ruby, it corrupted her and now she's a yandere and the game is now fucked up. Also amy is aware she's in a game and is jealous of the player for controlling sonic so she puts viruses on people's computers

In all honesty, i kinda just had two different ideas for what i wanted this to be. I wanted to make an EXE that is SOLELY self-contained and doesn't involve evil world-destroying gods possessing video games and entrapping souls like most EXEs i've seen (some of my favorite EXE/sonic horror AUs are starved eggman and sink sonic BECAUSE of this subversion) but at the same time: i was VERY married (no pun intended) to the idea of taking inspiration from old loveletter computer viruses and the whole haunted game schtick so i tried to mash them together as best i could, resulting in a sort of doki doki literature club/undertale-esque AU for lack of a better description. While yes, i am aware that yandere!amy rose isn't exactly an ORIGINAL idea (hell, i saw a fairly popular fanfiction called "amy.exe" with that EXACT premise) i mean.....i was (unfortunately) a yandere simulator fan as a kid so i kinda have a soft spot for yanderes, y'know? Besides, what else could you do with amy? You could probably do something with the fact she's into tarot cards but that'd probably get culturally insensitive REAL fast...

If i'm being completely honest, i only threw in the "amy's design and mannerisms changing due to being exposed to the internet" thing because i like amy's modern design more than her classic design and i wanted an excuse to make something based on it lol. Speaking of which: i actually had a tough time getting the preportions right on this, i've drawn sonic characters before and i usually have a tough time with the preportions since the sonic artstyle is so much different than mine and y'know....if the characters aren't drawn in a style that looks even VAGUELY like the sonic artstyle than it's just NOT a sonic character!!! (Also fun fact: amy's design in this is vaguely modeled after a creepy haunted doll bc i LOVE those things)

While doing research for this AU i realized i actually know a lot less about sonic lore than i thought lol, this is my first REAL attempt at writing horror so i hope it's not TOO terrible!!! (And, more importantly, that this makes sense to anyone who ISN'T me) anyway....again, happy valentine's day!!!

[princessofghosts-posts]

I just realize that all of the sons of the Big Three had memory loss.

Percy and Jason got switched and Hera erased their memories.

Percy could remember only Annabeth's name because Hera couldn't totally cancel her from his brain (their love is so strong and,also,probably Aphrodite's doing),of his beef with Ares (hate so strong that he couldn't forget it) and unconsciously also Nico (some says it's for the strong guilt that he has for him,but I don't think so).

Jason,on the other hand,couldn't remember anything of his past,and with also Aphrodite and her mist manipulation,he had his brain a little fucked up. Even after HoO,he didn't have ALL of his memories back,and his friendship and relationship were based on a lie (Jasper could have gone on,they could have started all over again as they wanted if they really wanted to,but Rick didn't give them the possibility).

Both of them had their memories taken away by Hera,that for Percy is like an horrible petty aunt,and for Jason is like a sort of strange step-mother,and he was also her champion.

Then we have Nico (and Bianca).

The memories of his life,before arriving at the Lotus Hotel & Casino,have been washed away in the Lethe by his father himself. And for half of the narrative he struggles to remember his mother and what his life was before the discovery of being a demigod. And,like Jason,I don't think he'll ever be able to get all of them back. Hades thought he was doing them some good (especially with Maria's death,that at the time was still fresh and he didn't want them to live with that weight),but he still deprived his son of memories of a mother and sister that he will never get back,or at least not all of them.

On the other hand,we have Bianca,Hazel and Thalia: their daughters.

Bianca had the same problem as Nico,but she never understood what was actually happening with her memories,because she thought it was only the Lotus effects on them (70 years is big after all,even tho for them it was only a couple of weeks). And she died too early to find out that her father erased half of their life.

During SoN,we see Hazel struggling with her flashbacks regarding her past life. And it's linked to her death. Hazel spent years as a soul,although she remembered who she was and her life. But when she was brought back to life by Nico (he became the equivalent of Jesus in Greek mythology at this point) those same memories returned with her too. This caused her to have flashbacks both because she had to readjust to being alive again and because of her curse. She also had to readjust herself with the modern world,that was different from what she had always knew. It was never a memory loss,but for me it's close to that. She was processing her life.

Thalia's been dead for years,and when returned to life,after the events of SoM,she felt like she didn't belong. Luke,her best friend (and crush),become their enemy; Annabeth,the girl she took care of,had grown up and knew how to take care of herself now; Grover was almost never present at the camp,and she did not know who most of the demigods there were. Time passed for everyone but her,and she felt stuck in the change. I don't think she had any sort of memory loss problem,but more of the fact that she had to readjust herself with the years loss.

At this point for the Gods,erasing the memories of their demigods children/nephews,it's a family tradition. Because half of them had amnesia and the other half was stuck in time (2 of them also came back to life,while another one died,but anyway-). Unfortunately Nico belongs to both,that guy can never catch a break.

[heygirltimeformorning]

come ride on me (i mean camaraderie)

4.5 words, Explicit, Buddie

Summary: “Eddie, this isn’t -- casual for me,” Buck says finally, like he’s cutting the wires to a bomb. “I can’t -- I don’t do casual anymore.” He looks up at Eddie, open and bleeding, totally disarmed. He’s the most beautiful thing Eddie’s ever seen. Buck takes a breath, looks down, shakes his head. “I mean,” he says, “I can’t do casual with you.”

“Who,” Eddie asks, very quietly, “said anything about casual?”

*

Eddie has to confront the fact that he’s gay and not just confusing platonic feelings for sexual ones because he’s lonely on a Sunday afternoon when he walks into the locker room after a call where Buck had gotten up close and personal with the business end of an elephant, and Buck is naked, toweling his hair off, still grumbling about elephant shit and why the fuck animal control had a weight limit, and something about turkeys and llamas, but Eddie’s brain goes offline when he sees Buck’s dick.

Look, it’s just there. It’s not like he’d been looking, he’d just glanced over at Buck, and there it was. It’s not even the first time he’s seen Buck’s dick (the showers are communal, he’s seen everyone’s dicks, if they have them) but this is, like, full frontal; it’s the first time Eddie has come eye-to-eye, so to speak, with Buck’s dick, and look, Eddie is not a dick expert, but Buck’s dick is -- well, it’s not small, even soft, not even close, and Eddie yelps, like one of those little rat dogs getting stepped on, and leaves the locker room immediately, which is totally normal behavior after seeing his best friend’s dick.

“Eddie?” Buck pokes his head around the door of the locker room, brows knit together in concern.

“Fine, I’m fine,” Eddie says, in response to the question on Buck’s face. “I’m fine. Just -- uh -- tripped over - over - something. I’m fine.”

Eddie is not fine. He hobbles through the rest of the shift -- there isn’t much left of it -- and then he goes home, avoiding Buck’s offer of post-shift food, which is their ritual, now that Chris is in Texas.

The problem is, Eddie can’t stop thinking about it. Well, that isn’t the problem, but the problem is that when he thinks about Buck’s dick, he has other thoughts. It would be one thing if he just thought about Buck’s dick like wow good for him, but Eddie wants to see it again. He wants. He wants, that’s the problem. Frank would have a field day with that, but Eddie is not sharing this with Frank (or anyone). He’s been on the cusp of a gay realization for -- well, awhile. It’s been coming - somewhere between the cheerleader with the broken pelvis, and confusing his hatred of Tommy for homophobia when it was jealousy - Eddie might have been in the closet, but he wasn’t stupid. The problem wasn’t that he was (apparently) gay, or bi or whatever (he hasn’t had time to experiment with labels -- or, rather, he’s had nothing but time to experiment with labels, but it doesn’t interest him that much), the problem was that his not-straight feelings were, apparently, manifesting as lust about his best friend. Realizing he’s gay? Fine. Realizing he wants to get up close and personal with a penis? Also fine. Realizing the penis he wants to get up close and personal with is one specific penis -- the one attached to his best friend? Very much not fine.

finish reading on AO3 :)

[rickktish]

Hey fuck this actually please and thank you :)

Religion is not designed to "break in independent women and trap them into a conservative relationship" and OP is SPECIFICALLY SAYING SO and I'm beyond sick and tired of people arguing that it is RELIGION that is the problem and not the larger structural culture of the US and other countries. And this goes ESPECIALLY AND SPECIFICALLY for mormonism.

As someone who was born and raised LDS, I'm aware that my experience is not universal. Some people grew up with abusive parents. Some people grew up in controlling congregations. But my experiences are also not unique, and I need people to stop homogenizing the LDS experience into "oh poor mormon women, they've been broken in like animals to submit to their husbands."

As a matter of fact, I have never personally met a mormon woman who was submissive to her husband. Which is impressive given that I've been surrounded by Utah mormons my entire life.

Can I share the actual messaging I was taught as a child? The actual lessons we were given in childhood and teenhood?

"men and women have equal responsibility in the home."

"Men and women are equal partners."

"Men have a responsibility to be active, present fathers to their children. Part of providing for a family is providing for their emotional needs."

"women have a responsibility to pursue higher education and/or vocational training as circumstances allow" (which was a reference to the cost of student loans, not whether or not she had children.)

The screenshot above has such important, meaningful ideas and you are actively making it harder to take those important ideas seriously by arguing that entire segments of a religious population have been systematically subjugated as children rather than acknowledging that those religions exist within the larger context of christian nationalist america. Don't blame the subgroup for the issues dictated by the larger structure. Don't defer responsibility for a national structure that teaches men that they are supposed to be dominant and controlling and violent to the subculture that teaches them that the greatest demonstration of masculinity is to cry in public while expressing words of gratitude and affection, that you have to counsel with your wife before making any decisions, and that good men are present and active fathers who listen to their children's needs and respect them as individuals with inherent divine value.

"41 No power or influence can or ought to be maintained by virtue of the priesthood, only by persuasion, by long-suffering, by gentleness and meekness, and by love unfeigned; 42 By kindness, and pure knowledge, which shall greatly enlarge the soul without hypocrisy, and without guile"

Most mormon men I know are instructed to memorize this scripture. Even if they don't have it memorized, it's taught regularly in sunday school. They analyze it. They discuss it. They are taught to live by it. And for clarification's sake, "priesthood" refers to a lot of things in mormonism but not least of those things is the fact that it's frequently used to denote "all men in the church or any of its congregations." Meaning that while it's easy to read this as "don't use your [power or position of authority] to control others" it also frequently gets read as "don't use your [masculinity or position as a man] to control others" and that! matters!

The original poster understands that being amish or mormon is a choice, and respects it. It is a choice that men and women make, and they make it with the full extent of the knowledge and values that they have cultivated over a lifetime of experience. You can tell, because some people-- even a lot of people!-- choose NOT to anymore when they grow up. OP is SPECIFICALLY USING THESE TWO RELIGIONS AS A COUNTERPOINT. INTENTIONALLY DENOTING THE CHOICE OF THE WOMEN INVOLVED.

Do not detract from the VITALLY IMPORTANT MESSAGE that OP is making about those who are trying to structure power for the sake of controlling those around them by targeting a smaller population you think you're better than, especially if you're speaking from a position of malice or judgement. You just look ignorant and bigoted.

Whoever wrote this, slayed so hard with all these statements, truer words have never been spoken

[angrybubbles]

I think some fans of IwtV may have a better time interacting with the source material if they really embrace that love is always in the equation. Every equation. Every relationship. Even the ones you hate. All the time. That's the tragedy of it. It's a central theme to the makeup of the story and the relationships that push the plot forward. Both film and books.

Love is not a healing emotion in IwtV. It doesn't mend any harm, or fix their problems; it doesn't act as "proof" that they're meant to be together. It's the emotion that connects them, that draws them to each other, even as the harm pushes them apart. It is the excuse for every action, and the support for why they stay until the hurt is too much. This is not a fantasy fairy tale romance with a happily-ever-after. This is Gothic Horror about forever being an "other".

Of course Lestat loves Louis. That's the point. It also does not prevent him from harming Louis; from not being racist to him, or ignoring how racism is put upon him in the show, or depression in the books. Love makes Lestat feel connected to another on a deep level; for a man that knows how to desire many, the times when he loves are deep and important. He remembers his loves, and every single one is special, but especially Louis. He would stay, he would be happy, so of course he would expect Louis to feel this as well.

Of course Louis loves Lestat. That's the point. It didn’t prevent him from slitting his throat or feeling bitter about being turned into a vampire. It keeps Lestat in his mind, filling the gaps his absence leaves behind. He feels guilt, but he can't decide whether it's because he loves Lestat despite it all or because he let that love control him. It's why Louis can't drop his past, because how can his love not have been enough to save it? By denying he loves Lestat or Lestat ever loving him, Louis backed himself into the philosophical corner that makes him desire to understand his past.

Of course Armand loves Louis. That's the point. It didn't prevent him from feeling unvalued, and torn between his duty and his feelings. Love doesn't make Armand soft, it makes him possessive. It's a role he can cling to: "Armand belongs to Louis" "Amadeo belongs to Marius" and an identity he can claim. Probably the best way to understand this is that Armand is so fucked up, he only allows himself one identity at a time, which is why the bench scene is not an act of claim to Armand. He begged Louis to leave, and probably expected that if Louis loved him, he would take Armand with him. Louis told "Arun" to keep control of the coven by pretending to give up control of the coven, which separated his "claim" in a way he could not control. If he doesn't feel claimed, he'll act out, because he desperately seeks to be loved (possessed) in return.

Of course Louis loves Armand. That's the point. It's what makes Louis trust Armand and rely on him. In Paris, and in the decades after. In Louis' mind, spending so much time with Armand was such undeniable proof that he loved him, he didn't think he needed to say it. He never thinks he needs to say it. Half of the anger at the end is because his trust has been misused. But the love doesn't prevent him from digging in at Armand's weak spots in anger, or using their past as a bludgeoning weapon. And it doesn't make the spite in their relationship any less obvious.

Of course Lestat loves Claudia. It was in every expense he used to provide for her. Every teaching experience in order to guide her. It wasn't just duty, he loved her, even at her worst. It didn't prevent him from misplaced anger that she was distracting Louis. It didn't prevent him from doing her harm or dismissing her concerns, but the fact that she haunts him is proof enough that he loves her.

Of course Claudia loves Lestat. Yes she's so bitter at his controlling and secretive nature, but I think that's why she distances herself from him. "Uncle Les" gives enough distance so that her love doesn't hold her back from what she's convinced will solve her problem (Note she does the same distancing tactic with Louis). It's why it hits her so personally that Lestat doesn't trust her enough to let her leave, and that she's just used as a pawn to keep Louis happy. To her, it's the nail in the coffin to convince her he never loved her.

And of course Claudia and Louis love each other. It's why the betrayals hurt. It's why their absence is hard on each other. They love each other, and that didn't prevent them from putting each other in difficult situations. Louis's love for her wasn't enough to support her needs, and her love for Louis wasn't enough to stop her from finding every reason to prove he didn't love her enough.

Each relationship is more than the love. It's about how each pair's trauma rubs shoulders, how different people support different emotions. We joke they all need therapy, but it's true. None of their relationships are healthy because they think they're healing themselves by seeking love, but they just seek loving bandaids in each other. Honestly Louis' talk-therapy session in the guise of an Interview is the closest to actual healing he's ever had. (Louis/Daniel shippers I see you)

It's why the healthiest part of every relationship is when they're at their beginnings. The love is fresh, and it feels so convincingly healing to them. This is also why I'm not mentioning Claudia and Madeline, because they didn't get a chance to last. They were at the fresh love, but considering both of them had some intense trauma that wasn't just going to disappear, their chances at never harming each other is nonexistent.

I'm also not mentioning Daniel, because we don't have any show-based scenes that display his love-hurt dynamic. The Devils Minion chapter, however, is chock-full of examples of how toxic their relationship is. The most important part of that though, is it shows that Daniel is just as obsessive as Armand tends to be. It's why they match each other's freak so well.

I will also not mention Marius, but keep in mind that he is "like that" because he doesn't believe breaking points come from hurt, but from fragility. Stoic asshole.

Stop comparing levels of love. Stop comparing levels of hurt. It's all there. The couple you love is the couple you find most compelling, not the couple that is "the most" in love and "the least toxic." No couple is free from toxic attachment or abuse, it's why there's a breaking point in each one.

[zyonicorn]

Click to Start Chatting

Many months ago, I met my girlfriend through an app called “V-loop”. It was an app for meeting new people, and there was a function for you to follow people you liked and chat with them, though the requirement was that the other person had to follow you too.

The first time I saw her profile, I was hesitating if I should follow her or not, but she's literally my type. “Let’s just give it a try.” I stared at the “@_zyozyo/ 106 followers/ 5 following” for a few seconds, then clicked “follow” eventually.

I don't even know if she liked girls, all I knew was her name, Jihyo, which kept lingering in my mind. She was so gorgeous, every picture seemed like a piece of art, that I didn't even deserve to savor. 

“Click to start chatting”

It was my third time checking the chat session in an hour, my heart skipped a beat when I saw the line, indicating she followed me back.

“Hey there! Are you y/n?”

Yes! Nice to meet you 🫣

“Why’d you follow me?”

Cuz you look easy to get along with :)

“I see.. You’re cute”

Her direct expression made you don't know how to answer for a moment.

Thanks..?

The chat continued. The two of you started to share about your daily lives, people you've met, what you had for lunch. In just a week, you got closer to Jihyo that she told you about her work, stress, and some personal matters.

“Y/n.. I'm pretty frustrated lately.”

What’s wrong??

Everything sounded normal, just like how you usually chat with her.

“I don't know if I should tell you but..”

“What I meant by ‘frustrated’ is sexually.”

Oh um, but why are you telling me about this?

“I want you to solve it for me.”

Though you were really, really shocked by her straightforward words, you still replied right away, just to hide the fact that you were panicking, staring at the screen while your fingers hovered over the keyboard.

I mean, why me? We met online and you’ll never know who I actually am.

There are many scams nowadays, and despite being shocked, you’re also worried about Jihyo.

“Cuz I know I can trust you. I have my reasons, just say yes or no.”

“Of course, I won't force you if you don't want to, it's my personal problem after all.”

She’s so thoughtful, that your heart pounds faster for her again.

Well, sure I can help you. But it's not as easy as it’s said.

“Don’t worry, I’ll book a hotel room and send you the address. All you have to do is go there and help me out.”

She sent you a link right away, booked tomorrow, a whole day. She doesn't sound nervous or embarrassed anymore, unlike you, who still not believe your type asked you out, for sex.

That night you barely slept, the only 3 hours of sleep, you had a dirty dream about Jihyo. You woke up at 6, found your underwear wet. “What the fuck…” you breathe out, without thinking much, you change quickly and have a shower.

The time she suggested was 8, at a cafe near the hotel, so the two of you can have a small chat and get to know each other.

“I’m over here, Jihyo-ssi!” you waved while tipping your toes, trying to maintain your smile and not faint from the beauty of the woman approaching in baggy jeans and a white ruffled top.

“Hey there!! Oh…” she suddenly stopped talking, looking up and down at you. You thought you looked messy, or maybe disappointing her because you looked different from the picture, so you quickly fixed your posture and pulled your shirt straight.

“What’s the matter?” you hesitated before asking, the woman’s bright confident expression seemed to soften a little. She looked back into your eyes and smiled kindly, your face exposing your nervousness. “Nothing, but you’re even cuter than I thought” she calmly said. 

You blushed at her words, which Jihyo noticed right away. She smiled even more that it pushed her cheeks up perfectly. 

“Alright, let’s go in.” her arm wrapped around your shoulder, while you blushed even harder from her warm touch. She helped you with your chair, then sat at your opposite. Looking at you, she asked “Do you want to drink something?” though you had mentally prepared for what would happen today already, you’re still shy about being in front of Jihyo.

“N-no, thanks. I’ve had my breakfast,” you responded. “Okay. Our check-in is at  9, so why don't we have a small talk first?” she started the topic. The chat between you two sounded just like how you chatted online. Her friendly tone eased your anxiety. 

The chat went well, she started to brush your leg with her shoes. Leaning closer to you across the table, she asked, “Why don't we head off to the hotel now? It’s almost time.” her smirk showed her excitement.

“Sure” You got up as she held your hand, like a normal couple, though you were too timid to hold her back until her fingers crossed yours.

On your 5 minutes way to the hotel, you started the conversation. “Don’t get me wrong but, have you done this many times before?” you asked after hesitating.

“Done what?” “Like- having sex with people you met online?” you asked, though it’s hard to say it out loud. “Oh honey, what makes you think that?” she looked surprised for a moment, but fixed her expression quickly. “I-I mean, you’re all calm from the start, I wonder if you’re experienced,” you explained yourself.

“I did have sex before, with my ex-boyfriend. But he never satisfied me. We broke up and I'm feeling empty. So I wanted to try it with a woman, then you showed up.” she said. You were kind of confused, are you that extraordinary? You never found yourself attractive. That's what you asked Jihyo, she replied, “You’re kind and caring. Have some confidence in yourself! I found it really comfortable to be with you.”

That's almost a confession, you thought. Maybe confidence is what you lack. The two of you stepped into the hotel hall. It was big and the atmosphere was peaceful. The receptionist handed Jihyo the key as she took care of everything. 

There’s a big window in the room, with a large bed for two. The fact that you’re having sex with this beautiful woman hit you suddenly. Your heart pounded faster and faster, you tried to hide your blush while bending over to take off your shoes. Jihyo was faster than you, she put her bag aside and sat on the edge of the bed.

She pats her side, signaling you to sit there. The bed was soft and clean, the sheet felt cold like your hands. “So.. Do you want to start?” “S-sure” you answered, but you have no idea how to do it. 

She smirked and leaned closer, her face hovering above yours. “Maybe I’ll begin first,” she whispered and tilted her head so she could kiss your lips. The first kiss was soft, like testing the water. You closed your eyes, feeling her moist lip on yours, slowly opening your mouth and her tongue slipped in smoothly. It was as hot as you imagined, your hands reached for her shirt to pull her closer. She smiled at your eagerness, as you get turned on more and more.

The sound of heavy breathing filled the room, along with the sound you and Jihyo’s mouths made. You sneaked your hand down to Jihyo’s crotch, another to her tit. Feeling the temperature passing through the clothes, unlike your cold hands, she seems to be hot.

“Can you take the lead?” she noticed that you relaxed a bit, then asked softly while pulling away. “So we’re starting right now?” you smirked. You've thought of pushing her into the bed directly, but you know it’s polite and necessary to ask, you’re the one pleasuring her today, anyway.

“Sure, if you can,” she said and pulled you into a kiss, more passionate than before. Her soft whimpers are leading you to release your need, you press her into the bed, straddling her while kissing. “Take those off,” you said. She pulled her shirt and blouse, and you took off her jeans, leaving her underwear on.

You gasped from seeing her boobs spring free, they’re bigger than they looked like when she was wearing her bra and the shirt. “How do you want me to please you?” you asked while drawing slow circles on her abs.

“Suck on my tits and finger me, I know you want it,” she smiled in anticipation, while you were still not moving your gaze away from her breasts. 

You leaned down and grabbed her tits with both hands, though you couldn't fully hold on them. Enveloping one of her nipples with your lips, she felt your hot breath fanning her skin and your cold hands at the same time, feeling the sensation while giving out soft whines.

She guides one of your hands to her abs, then underwear. You pressed into her clit through the fabric softly, making Jihyo moan even louder.

You moved to the side of her and sat up, playing with her chest with one hand and another rubbing her clothes clit. 

“You’re dripping,” you smirked and circled even faster, brushing her slit occasionally. “For you, love” her voice unsteady. Love? She just called me love? That name is melting you on the inside, but you have to act calm.

“Can I take it off?” you asked while reaching for the strap of her underwear. She immediately nodded. It was a white normal underwear, matching her bra. 

A string of juice connected the cloth and her pussy, you didn't expect she would be this “juicy”. You cut the string with your finger and playfully licked it. She looked at you staring at her pussy, “Taste it” her voice was soft, you didn't catch what she was saying- or rather you would say, you didn't believe what she was saying.

“Sorry?” you asked her to repeat. She said again, “Eat me.” This time you made sure you didn't hear her wrong. You’ve never licked a pussy, you don’t know how to make Jihyo comfortable with your mouth.

“Tell me if it hurts,” you still asked just in case. She nodded and closed her eyes, “don’t push yourself too much just because of me, love” she said. You took off your clothing, naked while your face hovered on Jihyo’s pussy. She was being so thoughtful, to be honest, just by chatting with her, you thought she would use you like a sex toy. But turns out she cares about your feelings too.

You lapped your hot tongue onto her clit, feeling your saliva dropping from the roof of your mouth. Jihyo curled her legs and let out a whimper. “Just go for it, baby. I can’t wait” She sounded weak, almost begging you. And of course, you would obey this perfect woman. 

You sucked her clit and folds into your mouth, her juice covering your lips. Jihyo’s mouth fell open, she gasped and exhaled heavily under your touch. She’s so sensitive that you wanted to tease her. You flicked your tongue on her clit and fanned your breath on her pussy.

“S-suck me just like how you did..” she spoke up and her fist clenched onto the hotel’s bed sheet.

You remember you’re here to satisfy Jihyo, so you decided to stop teasing her. You took her clit into your mouth, saliva mixed with her juice. It’s something you’ve never tasted before, tastier than anything else.

It’s time, you thought. Putting your tongue into her cunt, it was moist and warm. Her tight wall clenched, although your jaw was sore, you didn’t stop. You started to bob your your head, paying attention to Jihyo’s breathing.

“Hmph-” her noises sharp but short, legs bending uncontrollably. Her back started to arch, she held your head and tried to fuck your face. You kept yourself in place and licked her sweet spot, her moans getting denser and denser.

Her juice squeezed onto your face, some dropped into the sheet below. Her eyelid was half closed, she panted heavily.

You lay next to her, she hugged you and kissed your lips eagerly. You thought she would need some rest, but it was the complete opposite. You looked up, “what’s next?”

She stared into your eyes, lust and desire filled her gaze.

“Now let mommy treat you nice and well, as the payback for the wonderful work you’ve just done.”

Mommy? What does she mean? Your brain did not really register her words. But that doesn’t matter, she flipped you so now you’re on your stomach. Your juice oozed out from hearing her moans just now, making your crotch a mess.

She leaned onto you, her hot wet pussy right under your ass cheek. You felt Jihyo’s chest pressed onto your back as her hand moved slowly from your upper back to your ass, then your wet needy cunt, the trail of touch her fingertip left giving you a chill in your spine.

She rubbed your clit and folds forcefully, teasing around the entrance. Her delicate touches don't feel like it’s her first time with a woman. She knows everything you need, every bit of skin is caressed.

Her hand moved around your stomach and went under it, giving her a better angle to touch your pussy. It went between the bed and your skin, hot and moist, you don’t know if it’s her sweat or your slick.

She started to circle your clit ruthlessly, your muffled moans covered by the pillow that you buried your face in. You felt Jihyo starting to grind her pussy on the back of your thigh, slick coating your skin as pleasure builds in your body. 

 Her bare pussy grinding on your leg, she rocked her hips with desire, while working on your clit with her fingers. “Oh god you sound so good” she moans and praises every sound you make. Pressing your head into the pillow even more, you felt the suffocation. Mind blank, only the knot in your stomach slowly unraveling, and tied tight again every time she slow down to tease. 

Your head spins and cunt clenches as she circle her fingers. She noticed your moans and softened to tease. “L-let me cum-” You raised your head, didn't notice the tears on your face. Sweat stuck your hair on your face, making you look messy.

“Call me mommy” she commanded. Maybe it’s her “kink”, you obeyed her immediately. “M-mommy please” you breathed out.

She sped up her fingers, the sound of wetness sent to your ears. You felt like you were almost blacking out. 

The knot in your core seems to be releasing, slowly consuming the little sanity left in your mind. Your feet clasped Jihyo’s hand in between, your moans becoming denser, you felt like someone was holding onto your lungs, not letting you breathe. Jihyo’s voice was right next to your ear, your back arching up from time to time as you felt Jihyo speeding up on your thigh. “Fuck” you heard her faintly breathe out. She sounds angelic, you would love to keep fucking her just to hear her again.

“Hmph-!!” you squeezed your eyes shut, almost crying out of pleasure. The organisms washed through your body completely, Jihyo’s juice coated your thigh, she hugged you tight and continued to draw circles on your clit, until you have fully ridden out your climax.

She took her hand out, dripping with your water. You couldn't move at all, mind blank, vision blurred. The bed sheet was all wet, you felt Jihyo’s honey going down your flesh. You uncontrollably shivered, slick still slowly flowing out of your cunt.

In Jihyo’s eyes, your face is washed red, cum dripping, hair stuck onto your face because of your sweat and tears, your mouth slightly opened, heavily breathing, while you shivered hard.

Jihyo sucked the slick on her fingers, and cleaned you up with her mouth. You felt her tongue going from your thigh to your dripping pussy. She sucked on it a few times, you felt your sensitive cunt go through some tiny organisms as she licked you up.

She flipped you over, looking at you from above with a big smile on her face. “Messy” She kissed you as you pulled her into your body. Your words were still shaky, “I’ve never had such great sex ever” “I think I might be addicted.” 

She sat up and put her head onto her thigh, you’re now lying as Jihyo strokes your hair softly. “Then we should do this often.” She looked at you and said. You smiled, if you do this often, you think you might be ‘used up’ one day.

“Rest for a while. I’ll help you with the shower later.”

You fell asleep. She softly said to your ears, “Thank you.”

-

Pretty much rushed, I’m not satisfied with this fic but I don't want to keep you guys waiting :( sry for the low quality and the long waitttt

[gaiahypothesims]

449

Ashley- Watch and learn little one. I shall make like an outdoorsman and sweep the floor with your elderly carcass.

Evelyn- Your shit talking doesn't even make sense, you're not good at it.

Ashley- Quiet now, Daddy is concentrating.

Evelyn- AGGRESSIVELY NON-SEXUAL ASHLEY! Don't call yourself 'Daddy'. It makes me want to throw up.

Ashley- Watch the master.... AH SHIT! SHIT FUCK.

Evelyn- Gutter ball. Seems like 'Daddy' doesn't have the accuracy that he thinks he does. Somewhat similar reason as to why you broke your ... vienna sausage.

Ashley- I agree that hearing you call me 'Daddy' is nauseating. MY accuracy is impeccable, its YOU who has a oddly angled lady cave much like this obviously amateurly made bowling lane.

Evelyn- <aghast> ODDLY angled?! I've never had any complaints about my ... my... bowling alley! In fact, you're the ONLY one who seems to have ever had a problem navigating a straight line. It is NOT my fault it broke!

Ashley- It wasn't broken! Just bent a little, its straight as an arrow now! I can show you! Just.. don't look at me while I prepare it for your viewing pleasure. Your shrewish visage is sure to cause the poor fellow to experience some sort of post traumatic response.

Evelyn- WHY are we talking about this?! I said no-sexual chit chat!

Ashley- This has gone beyond sexual chit chat. You are insulting a very prized member of my body, and also my skills in bowling.

Evelyn- You don't have any skills in bowling or anything else. Let ME, the real master, show you how its done. Sort of like how you should have let me show you how to do it before you BROKE your penis.

Ashley- <glaring> Bent it. Bring it on then, let's see what you've got.