#anyway who wants to start ARMPIT with me i feel like we could really make something special

[crowlixcx]

what tumblr user's spotify wrapped looks like to someone who doesn't listen to indie rock music

[warping-realities]

Animal I Have Become

Alright, I promised I wouldn’t write any more. But this one’s short and I cranked it out in less than two hours. The inspiration is obvious for anyone who’s a fan of "Karate Kid"/"Cobra Kai," since I just finished the first part of the last season. And for those worried about my studies, don’t sweat it—I was on my work shift, which I never use to study because it seems to attract all kinds of chaos. Anyway! If any quick ideas pop up, I’ll post them, but no more long stories packed with plots for a while.

I only agreed to go back to the place of my humiliation for one reason: Mikey was my best friend throughout high school until he decided, right in our senior year, to join the karate team of the new P.E. assistant teacher. Then, like magic, the skinny kid with a sharp sense of humor who could discuss everything from experimental physics to pre-Columbian American history, the guy I knew so well, was replaced by this arrogant musclehead who struggled with math and was totally incapable of having a history discussion that didn’t revolve around bragging about how today badass America was, and whose idea of a joke involved talking about tits or letting out a stinky fart. Apparently, it was a courtesy of the insane amounts of protein he started chugging to maintain his suddenly beefed-up physique. How the hell was it possible to gain that much muscle in such a short time? Maybe steroids, but the one time I asked about that, I ended up stuck under his stinky armpit. And what was up with that new nickname? “Snake!” How pretentious was that? But apparently, everyone in the group had a “badass nickname.” Ah, the joys of the standard American jock… Still, I tried to hold on to some of our friendship; God, did I try.

I even agreed to join a couple of those damn team practices, knowing damn well I didn’t have the physique, the skills, and maybe most importantly, the real desire to be there. I ended up getting ridiculed by everyone, including my so-called best friend.

I should’ve never talked to him again after that week of “practices.” But, being the idiot I am, all it took was a poorly worded apology full of grammatical mistakes that my brain refuses to recreate:

“Sorry, bro, the sensei got pissed at the guys when he heard their jokes about the size of your… well, you know. He wants you to meet us in the locker room today so we can apologize the right way. If you don’t show up, he’s gonna make us skip training for the whole week. Come on, please, for our friendship!”

… and there I was in that locker room. I should’ve left those morons without practice, but I decided to be the good samaritan.

Walking into that crap hole, what a surprise! It was empty. The pungent stench of sweat filled the room and humidity on the walls made it feel like the locker room was actually a beast whose musk drips off its body after a vigorous workout. But that didn’t matter; apparently, either the coach didn’t give a damn about what happened, which I should’ve figured, since he was just an older version of the ogre crew he trained, or he didn’t even know what went down, and I was about to be the victim of another lame prank.

Thinking about the danger, I quickly turned to leave. Then I noticed… on the other side of the room, hanging on one of the lockers… had that been there before? A piece of red fabric… oh, of course. A red gi from the team; they even gave themselves a pretentious name…. The fight practice was happening right at that moment. It was hard to think about it. I said so much crap about the team on TikTok and Instagram, tarnishing the reputation of the strong and disciplined image they worked so hard to create outside those walls that they probably hated my guts now. All those arrogant alpha dogs were arrogant and obnoxious. What the hell was I thinking trying to fit in? Nerdy little dudes like me didn’t really belong there. Even the jokes about my dick; if I were one of them, I’d just throw a punch or come back with some barbaric, macho comeback and everything would be cool. But I wasn’t like that, and my frustration with all of it was proof of that.

I never really liked the Gi. That red color always seemed way too aggressive, and for some reason, it always looked oversized on me, with sleeves and pants that were way too long and baggy. I had to wrap the belt around me twice just to keep it from falling off my skinny frame. Apparently, it never crossed the sensei’s mind that a little guy like me would have the audacity to try to join his team. Thinking about it, it wasn’t that I didn’t like the Gi; I hated it. It represented everything I despised about that bunch of trolls and also my lost friendship.

I stepped back and slowly turned my head back to the locker with the gi. Did it belong to someone? normally they were used by any of the team's bodies, one size fits all, or almost, when I was still there... anyway... after training they went straight to the laundry before returning for the next training session. Not that any washing would really get rid of the complete animalistic musk that infested their fabric. So why would someone leave it here?

Not my fucking problem. Probably just a spare or something. I think, walking resolutely toward the door, and I crack it open slightly. I turn back. I guess there’s no one using it. That means someone’s gonna grab it soon. Something’s bugging me. But what is it? I get closer, the musk intensifying. That gi definitely isn’t new and hasn’t been washed recently. And what’s this? There’s a note along with it. I sit on the nearby bench to read.

“Sorry, bro, today’s practice was super important, and the sensei didn’t want to wait for you. But he left your gi here. Put it on and come train; this time it’ll be different, I promise. Trust me, for old times’ sake.”

Old times? Maybe… maybe I should give it a shot. God, what a weird thought. Why would I want to do that? But while I’m thinking about it, my feet are already moving me to stand up and head toward the locker, while my hands are grabbing my shirt and pulling it up. I should stop. I need to stop. I should leave now, but the shirt comes off and goes over my head, landing on the floor. My pants are unbuttoned, and soon they join the shirt. I really should stop. Why do I want this? It’d be better to stop, but soon I’m in my boxers holding the gi in front of me. First, I put one leg in... then the other... then the arms, and then the belt… why is it black? I wonder, confused… but then that consuming need fades away.

I look at myself. As always, it doesn’t fit. I look like a kid wearing his dad’s suit at some event. I sit back down on the bench. Alright, that strange urgency is satisfied. So now I can just take this damn thing off!

But I don’t want to, for some strange reason. I feel more comfortable than ever. It’s like that mismatched uniform was made for me. My delicate hands wander over the ill-fitting outfit, the long sleeves sliding down my shoulders. I try to adjust them back into place, but they stop midway as I start to feel the material against my skin. The feeling of power it gives me… the feeling of strength… was it really this good when I was practicing? No, definitely not; if it was, I wouldn’t have quit. Man, this feels amazing... I feel the weight of the gi on me, both real and metaphorical… the weight of what it represents… my hands roam over its wide shape… it’s not just a uniform… it’s an armor… a sacred cloak… this is so cool… I can hear them in the training room… too bad I can’t join them... I wish I could... and they asked... didn’t they? I shift a bit on the bench and let my arms fall to my sides. Weird, I didn’t seem that far from the ground before. I feel cozy; the sweat smell doesn’t bother me, the whole atmosphere feels familiar, even comforting, like coming home after a long day and sitting in your favorite chair. I feel dizzy, like I’m about to fall asleep...

My rational mind, or what’s left of it, doesn’t notice. But unconsciously, I do… my muscles are slowly expanding, my skinny body pushing against the bench while my hands gently massage my slightly protruding belly that’s slowly flattening, the little bit of fat there seeming to be sucked in with every circle my hand makes. My shoulders are also widening, getting broader, as I grunt happily, a tingling sensation creeping up my body.

Feeling that, my eyes suddenly open, a jolt waking me up a bit from that stupor. What the hell was that? I look at my belly, and it’s widening as I’m hit with shock. I’m getting ripped! My hands trace the outline of my abs as the little muscle blocks there grow and harden, turning into six distinct shapes. As I stare at that in fascination, the stupor hits me harder.

The rigid stones of my abs aren’t the only things getting harder. My arms and legs are swelling with new muscle, keeping pace with my ever-growing body. And, well... I gently pat my groin. It’s definitely there too… a solid extra four inches, and still soft… As my body keeps expanding, the sensation turns pleasurable, like scratching an itch that’s been bugging you for ages, so I let it wash over me. My mouth opens in a gasp, drool spilling out as I pant like a dog. For some reason, it’s easier to breathe like this. Maybe because my nose is breaking and reforming a few times without me even noticing? As the drool runs down my pecs, I bring my hand to them and feel them grow, making my hands look tiny in comparison to the two meat packages they become. I shake my hand a bit, sending the drool flying, and with each shake, I see it grow too, turning into a massive paw, perfect for smashing some unsuspecting fool. Looking at that seems… really good… and I laugh. And out of nowhere, the other hand starts growing too, while my feet expand like crazy. My size eight shoes will never fit those paws; what size are they now? 14? Or maybe 15? A good kick with those surfboards and you’re down for the count… cool… hehehe...

No, not cool, not cool at all! This damn outfit is doing something to me! I stand up and grab the gi by the sleeves at my shoulders, ready to rip it off, and then…. I fall back onto the bench, my eyes unfocused again as a sudden wave of pleasure hits me like a tsunami. Yeah, a torrent of testosterone floods my body as my jawline becomes prominent, my chin broadens, and little tufts of freshly trimmed hair cover my chest and armpits. My mouth opens again, drool spilling out as my neck thickens, and my Adam’s apple sticks out, while my forehead becomes more pronounced, with low brows creating a scowl that makes it look like I’m always ready to fight, and my hair gets shaved on the sides, completing the look of a total douchebag. I try to care, I try to fight... fight... good… fights is good... no… not fight like this... I start to lift my arm, now powerful and making the gi look slightly tight… my biceps must be huge… hehhe… then it drops again… I look at my altered reflection in the mirror and see someone who could easily roll with Samue… Snake and the other guys… who knows, maybe now it’ll end… maybe I’ll finally break free from this stupor and get out of here… But then the real nightmare begins, as a web of powerful veins snakes through the swollen muscles of my body, a myriad of intrusive thoughts starts to slowly shape my mind, no matter how hard I try to resist. They break through my defenses with such force that my illusions shatter quickly as I start to forget. Memories of long hours of studying slowly morph into party after party with my friends, working out with them, training with them, watching my body swell and grow; time spent on pop culture becomes time spent watching football, hours and hours perfecting my college resume turns into hours and hours of sweat and sacrifice perfecting my fighting technique to the point of perfection. Just like my friends. Just like the sensei taught us to be. And we owe it all to sensei. Especially since he’s gonna figure out a way to get me into college, get all of us, in every corner of the country, ensuring that his teachings are passed on. Just one of us in any student group or, better yet, a fraternity, and boom, a new crew of brothers ready to spread the word… ha… word… funny… as if we needed to talk… no… our way is the way of the fist!

Shit, I can’t believe I slept through practice! Sensei is gonna rip me a new one! I shouldn’t have hooked up with those hot girls from college with Snake last night… dude, I couldn’t miss that hookup… I’ll just have to take the sensei’s punishment like a man… and I AM THE MAN!”

I stand up and groan, my voice deeper, with a bit of a growl. I turn toward the door, bracing for sensei’s yelling… Eh, screw him. He’ll put on his show about my tardiness, and I’ll play my part as the remorseful kid, and everything will be fine. It’s not like I skipped out or, God forbid, quit the team; I can’t even imagine the things he’d do to a damn deserter. I stretch a bit, admire myself in the mirror… Mad Dawg, you’re so swole… damn… you big, hot son of a bitch!

And then I finally walk toward the training room to join my brother’s in arms. Today’s practice is gonna be awesome; I can feel it, but honestly, it always is; I was born for this.

[mimzy630]

Today, October 18th, I'm saying happy birthday to my favorite Psyncer, Kuruto Ryuki!

The incredible @vividcitrus illustrated my transmasc Ryuki headcanon comfortably showing top surgery scars on the beach!

More on my story below the cut :)

Ryuki is absolutely the Psyncer I see myself in the most. I love all the Psyncers and really tons of the characters in AI: THE SOMNIUM FILES and nirvanA Initiative dearly, but Ryuki is the closest one I have to a kin.

When I first met him upon starting the game, I resonated immediately; he plays the somewhat asexual-coded straight-man to Tama's sexy routine which immediately endeared me, and his fluctuations between needing to prove himself and be the one to solve the case to being severely depressed at not being good enough... Yeah! No, hello, that's me lol.

I wasn't really a part of his little fanclub before release, but oh boy did I fall hard and fast for the scuffly little cutie, and that love only grew stronger as the game went on- seeing Ryuki getting so absorbed in his job he forgets himself, seeing him so focused on one way to solve things that he has to make impossible choices, seeing him get paralyzed by choice when it matters most... Yeah! I mean yeah that's all me yeah. Not to his extreme levels of course but oh yeah no every scene with him only made me love him more.

He's just adorable... Ahhh I want to put my hands through his hair... Ahem, anyways, as soon as I finished the game I was like damn... I might have a kinnie... And I don't think I'm exactly a Ryuki Kin per-se, but I do very much see myself when I look at him.

I am also transmasc! Specifically, agender, but who knows where my journey will take me. I have a hard time struggling to think of what I want to look like; I don't have a real sense of identity much at all, let alone visual identity. Most of my self-image is a big ole void.

But I know there are certain parts of me I'd love removed LOL to I reached out to m, the artist, and we chatted- I've always had a soft spot for transmasc Ryuki and been kinda hoping someone would draw him someday, so fuck it, I decided I make it happen myself. In the process of this commission, I forced myself to really think about how I'd want to look, how my scars would look, if I wanted nipple grafts, etc., and m was super happy to work with me on all of that!

The final version, with the more understated scars following the natural curve of the pecs that go from below the armpit to mid chest and no nipple grafts, makes me actually feel good... Like, hey, maybe someday I too could be topless on a beach, smiling and confident... It's a far-off dream that I have to save a lot for, but hey... That murky swirling void in my head has cleared up just a little bit, enough for me to be able to see a happier future for myself, and that's everything really.

I know I'll never look like Ryuki exactly, there are a lot of obstacles to this, but at the very least, when I find money and a surgeon, I can say "that. That's how I want to look, and that's how I'd feel looking like that." Which is more than I've ever been able to do! Dysphoria is my constant companion, but euphoria tends to elude me... @vividcitrus turned the tables on that!

[echos-of-laughter]

Decided to write another Epic fic! I saw the ✨️Hermes✨️ and ⚡️ZEUS⚡️ TikTok, and I could resist writing about Hermes and Ares sibling bond.

This is Lee!Ares and Ler!Hermes with a bit of Lee!Hermes and Ler!Ares at the end bc I couldn't resist!

Btw, feel free to give me constructive criticism about my writing! Just please be respectful 😊

Anyways, hope yall enjoy!

Hermes and Ares had just spent the day with their father. Well, more specifically, Hermes had spent the day with their father while Ares was brushed off to the side. Any time he tried to get their father's attention, the king of the gods just scoffed and went back to paying attention to Hermes. Ares wasn't mad at his brother, though. Jealous, maybe, but not mad. It wasn't his little brothers fault that their father played favorites. Hermes even tried to include him occasionally, but Zeus wasn't having it.

    By the end of the day, Ares felt horrible. He had sat down next to Hermes, and Zeus had just gotten up and walked off. As his father walked off, Hermes rubbed his back and said, "There there darling, I'm glad you're here," and laid his head on his big brothers shoulder.

    "Thanks, Hermes," Ares replied while laying his head on his brothers.

    "You alright?" Hermes asked.

    "Yeah. I mean, it's not like I'm not used to it. Father never has the time for me. It's fine. He's a busy god."

    "That doesn't make it right. You're his son, too. You're allowed to want his attention, and you're allowed to get upset at him for ignoring you."

    Ares sighed. "You might be right, Hermes, but there's nothing that either of us can do about it. Father is going to do what he wants, and we can't change that."

    "I know. That doesn't mean I have to like it. Is there anything I can do to help you feel better?"

    Normally, Ares would brush it off like he was fine. But this was Hermes, and Hermes always had a way of finding out how people truly feel, so he didn't even bother with putting up an act. "Just sit with me for a while?

    "Of course darling."

    And so they sat, arms around each other, looking out at the sea. It was as the waves were crashing against the rocks that Hermes suddenly got an idea. He abruptly sat up, startling his brother, who grew nervous seeing his brothers mischievous smirk.

    "Uh, Hermes? What's up?" Ares asked.

    "Nothing much, just thought of a way to cheer you up."

    "Oh? And what would that be?" Ares inquired with a fond look. He loved how determined his little brother could be when it came to making people feel better.

    "Well, that depends."

    "On what?"

    "How ticklish you are."

    "Um, I'm sorry, what?" Ares stuttered, cheeks growing red, "Im not ticklish! That would be ridiculous. I'm the god of war."

    "Oh really?" Hermes replied with a grin, "Then you wouldn't mind if I tested it."

    And with that, he flew off the ground and started running his fingers across Ares sides. The bigger god tried to block him, but unfortunately, Hermes was faster. He could feel nimble fingers wiggling across his ribs, sides, stomach, neck, and worst of all, his armpits. The messenger god was moving so quickly that it felt like there were thousands of fingers were spidering across his skin at once. He didn't stand a chance at holding back.

    "Hehehermehehehes! Stohohohohohp thahahahahaht!" Ares begged.

    "But I thought you weren't ticklish, darling!" Hermes suddenly stopped and let out a dramatic gasp. "You wouldn't have lied to me, now would you?"

    "N-no, I'm not ticklish!" Ares insisted.

    "Well then, I'm confused. Because I thought that it was you letting out that quite frankly adorable laughter earlier, but if it wasn't, then I guess we'll just have to keep going until we find out who it was!" And with that, he started tickling his big brother again, dodging any attempts to block his access or grab his hands.

    "NOHOHOHOHO! Nohohohot agahahahahain!" Ares laughed. He could feel the sensations coursing through his veins, and he wanted more than anything to make them stop. And yet, somewhere inside, he wanted them to keep going. He would never admit it out loud, but this was making him feel better. He always loved playing with his sibling, but most of them were too scared of him to even try anything. Luckily for him, Hermes had no such qualms.

    "Well, I'm not the one laughing. And you already said you aren't ticklish, so I can't imagine why you would be laughing. So who could it be?" Hermes teased. He then moved down to his brother's hips and got a squeal in response.

    "NOHHOHOHOHOHO! NOHOHOT THEHEHEHEHRE! HEHEHEHEHRMES PLEHEHEHEHEASE!" Ares begged as his worst spot was being tormented by fingers drilling, fluttering, and scratching over it.

    "Ares, not now, I'm trying to figure out where all this laughter is coming from." Hermes replied, sounding disinterested in his brothers pleading.

    "IHIHIHHITS MEHEHEHEHE! IHIHIHIHI LIHIHIHIED. IHIHIHI AHAHAHAHAHAM TIHIHIHIHICKLISH!" Ares shouted desperately, "PLEHEHEHEHEASE JUHUHUHUHUST STAHAHAHAHAP!" He could no longer take the torment on his hips, especially when Hermes began digging into the spot where his hip met his thigh.

    Hermes stopped as soon as he heard his brothers begging, "Thank you for being honest, giggles."

    "Whahahahaht dihid you juhust call me?" Ares asked, still giggling from residual sensations.

    "I called you giggles."

    "Ohoho, that's it!" Ares said, reaching out and grabbing his baby brother in a bear hug. "You asked for this!"

    He then dug his fingers into Hermes' sides, making sure not to hurt him.

    "Wahahahait! Nohohohho!"

    "Yes, brother, while yo may think you have won the battle you forget. I'm the god of war." He started to move his fingers up Hermes ribs. He then started a loop of tickling up to his armpits, then back down to his stomach, and around and around again.

    "Nohohohohohoho! I wahahahahas juhuhuhust tryhihihing to mahahahake you fehehehehel behehehehter!" Hermes begged, squeaking anytime his brother hit a particularly sensitive spot.

    "Well, you should have known that I would get my revenge. Now, all you have to do is say that I'm your favorite brother, and I'll stop." Ares said smugly.

    "Whahahahahat? Nohohohohho! I cahahahahnt sahahahay thahahahat! Nohohohot ahahahafter thihihihis!" Hermes replied stubbornly.

    "Well then, I guess I'll just keep tickling you forever and ever." Ares shrugged.

    "Hmmm, what if I do this?" Ares mumbled under his breath, leaning forward to start nibbling and blowing raspberries on the back of his little brothers neck and ears.

    "NOHOHOHOHO! STOHHOHOHOHP THAHAHAHAHAT!" Hermes said with a squeal.

    "You know what you have to say." Ares sing-songed, nibbling on a sweet spot on the back of his ear.

    "OHOHOHKAHAHAHY OHOHOHOKAHAHAHY! YOHOHOHOHUR MYHYHYHYHY FAHAHAHVORITE BROHOHOHOHOTHER! JUHUHUHUST STOHOHOHOHOP!"

    Ares stopped tormenting his brother instantly but didn't release him from the hug. Hermes slowly got his breathing under control and tried to move, but found that Ares was holding on too tight for him to move.

    "Ares...?"

    "Thank you, brother. That really helped."

    Hermes relaxed into the hug, as he could tell that his big brother needed it right now. They both went back to looking at the ocean, comforted by each other's presence.

    "Anytime darling, anytime."

[zmediaoutlet]

“I’m starving. You think they’ll let me sell your ass for a Slim Jim?”

“You made that joke last time we were arrested.”

“What, you think a good bit is only good once? I get no respect, no respect.” The last part not much of an impression because Sam presses harder on the bullet wound with the wad of toilet paper and Dean’s voice goes thin and crackly. A clean-ish hole, in through the meaty part of his shoulder and out by his armpit. Could’ve got his heart or a lung but it doesn’t even feel like it cracked the collarbone. Apparently demons are terrible shots. Lucky, Dean had said, swallowing hard and making his voice harder after. Sam didn’t dignify it with a response.

Dean’s trying to get blood off his hand with more TP. It’s thin, awful stuff, shreds against the tacky stain. The chain between the bracelets clinking. “In those Norwegian prisons I bet they get wet wipes, huh?” he says. Sam takes a deep breath through his nose. “Pampered, or whatever. Could go for some pampering.”

“I’m not killing you,” Sam says, “does that count,” and Dean laughs breathy and weird. It must really hurt. He’d be throwing Sam off already, otherwise.

They dragged the body of Henriksen’s old boss out into the main part of the jail. There’s been shouting. A boom that shook the building but no one has told them what it was, exactly. They aren’t currently top priority, despite being such world-class criminals. A break but not much of one, with Dean still bleeding over Sam’s hands. With what’s coming.

“Demons, huh,” Dean says. On the same train of thought when blood’s on the line, as always. He shifts on the shitty jailhouse mattress, gets his bootheels square on the ground. Sam shifts along with him, keeping the slack easy between their manacled ankles. “Better or worse than cops?”

Henriksen’s vicious little grin, telling them they’d never see each other again. Not quite yellow eyes but Sam’s stomach flips. Dean’s fingers slide over his, in the enveloping shadow of Dean’s jacket. Sam’s let his grip go slack.

“Can’t exorcise a cop,” Dean says, answering his own question because Sam feels like he’s going to puke. Taking point, as always. “Gotta be a point in the demons’ favor.”

“How are we gonna get him to believe us,” Sam says.

It’s all he can think. There are demons and there’s this asshole, do-gooder cop, who thinks he’s saving the day from monsters when he doesn’t know what monsters really are. If they had iron and salt and silver and a chance they might make it out. Maybe. Not like this.

“He thinks we’re psycho graverobbing murdering cannibals, Sammy, I’m not sure we’re in the circle of trust,” Dean says. He jostles his shoulder against Sam’s chest, even though that must hurt. “But hey, at least he didn’t guess about—”

“Jesus,” Sam says. Dean grins white in the emergency lights. No, Henriksen didn’t say that, did he. Although he did—about Dad—

“You think if we start making out in here, they’d open the door?” Dean’s fingers slip against his, pressing both their hands harder against his shoulder. He flinches. Still grinning. “Just to pull us apart, anyway. Worth a shot.”

“Shut up,” Sam says. Dean bites his lip, turning his face away. His chin trembles and Sam wants to—lay full length over him, take the next bullet if it comes. Go back in time and exorcise the demon before it could pull its gun, get Henriksen against the bars and get his hands around Henriksen’s neck and force him to hear the truth. That the dark was swarming up around them and if Henriksen didn’t let them go then it was going to take everyone in this station and, worse, it was going to take Dean and there was no chance, not one in the fucking world, that Sam was going to let his brother go without a fight. That it was impossible for that to happen again. Everything in him was solid on that part. That just—there’s no way that was going to happen.

Dean’s knee sags and presses against Sam’s. “Okay, so,” Dean says, chin tipping down. “We’ll take out the demons, save the day. Guess even cops beat demons. And save the making out part for later, huh? Though I could go for some of that surf and turf.”

Sam breathes out. He puts his forehead down to Dean’s shoulder for two seconds, and then sits up straight. There’s more shouting, somewhere past the hall to the holding cells. Sam squeezes his wrist, lets him drop his hand, presses the compress hard and solid against the wound. Dean’s looking straight ahead, steady. A well, somewhere in him, that always seems to have one last drop of relief.

[pretty-bois2023]

🙈 So Jay (the roommate) brought a friend of his over, and basically planned to have a threesome without telling him. (See texts above)

I honestly think tonight might have been one of the hottest experiences of my life. I’m not even being dramatic, it was just amazing 🥵. I apologize in advance because this is going to be a LONG post, but there’s a lot to tell.

So anyway, I did what he asked and waited about 5 minutes, then went out to the living room in just a tank top and boxers trying to look cute. His friend was sitting on the couch naked and my roommate was on his knees sucking him. He looked REALLY embarrassed and grabbed his shirt and covered his dick. My roommate kinda laughed and said “come here for a sec”, so I went over to the couch. He moved his friend’s hand and said “You want some?”

Honestly, it felt a little weird because I didn’t want the guy to feel pressured or anything… so I asked if it was okay. He seemed a little embarrassed, but he said “umm… sure”. So I got on my knees next to my roommate and started sucking him. His dick is actually really nice. Uncut, probably like 6.5”, and sort of thick. But with a really big head and a really defined slit and a kinda big hole (I know that might sound a little weird, but I loooove that 😅).

Anyway, the embarrassment went away and he got into it, and my roommate and I kept taking turns sucking him. We both got undressed while the other was sucking. It was actually really hot tasting his spit when we switched. After a few minutes of that he said “keep going, I just need some water”. So I kept going.

He came back and sat next to Javier and they started making out, and then I heard Javier say “fuck me”. I don’t think I expected that, because he very much LOOKS like a top. Anyway, like a minute later he was on his hands and knees on the floor, and my roommate was fucking him. I sat on the floor in front of him, and he started sucking me. Every time my roommate thrusted, he would moan… and when he moaned his mouth kinda vibrated on my dick and felt sooooo good. After like 5 minutes, my roommate said “come over here”, so I went over next to him. He pulled his dick out, bent me down, and shoved his dick in me. Javier started kissing me, and it felt like that only lasted like 2 minutes and he switched back to Javier.

That went on for a little while, and then he stopped and told us to come to his room. We got in his bed and they took turns fucking me (no idea how long that lasted, I’m guessing around 30 minutes). Javier came inside me, and then Jay fucked me for a few more minutes and came, too.

When Jay pulled out, Javier got on his hands and knees and told me to fuck him. So I started, and Jay got his dildo, got behind me, and was ramming me REALLY hard with it. Like, at one point I literally said “ouch” out loud… but it was awesome. 😩

Javier’s ass felt amazing and Jay was going crazy with the toy, and I could feel that it was just covered in their cum. Needless to say, I only lasted like 3 minutes before I came in Javier. He leaned forward and my dick slid out. He put a finger in me and then licked it and said he was jealous that I “got most of it” 😂. Jay was still holding the dildo, and he goes “oh, well hang on”. He slid it back in me a few times, then spread Javier’s legs and slid it into him. He didn’t use any lube… just their cum from inside me. It was really hot to watch.

Jay was just slowly sliding the toy in and out of Javier, and Javier had a huge smile on his face. I laid down next to him and started licking his nipples. We were all a little bit sweaty at that point, and he smelled incredible. He put one of his arms behind his head, so I started licking his armpit. I think he was a little surprised because he sort of flinched for a second, but he didn’t stop me. Maybe he’s just ticklish. Anyway, I guess seeing that while he was using the toy on Javier turned him on, because he got hard again. He wrapped his hand around his dick and asked who wanted it, and at the same time Javier and I both said “me!” 🤣🤣

Jay turned me around and started fucking me again, and this part is a little hard to explain, so I hope it makes sense how I’m describing it… Javier got under us and I was basically straddling him in almost a 69 position. My face was right by his dick, and his face was right in between my legs. He was sticking his tongue out and licking Jay’s dick every time he pulled out a little. A few times he pulled it all the way out of me and let Javier suck it, then put it back in.

After a while, he switched and started fucking Javier. I was rock hard again, and Javier was licking my balls. Jay came in him and laid down on the bed looking exhausted, and Javier squeezed my dick and looked up at me and just said “fuck me”. So I fucked him again while Jay watched. It felt like I was going FOREVER, and I finally just stopped and told him I don’t think I can cum again. It felt amazing… warm and wet and slippery, but I just couldn’t get close to cumming again. Sometimes I can cum more than once, but sometimes I just can’t. He rolled over and jacked off, and when he said he was close I started sucking him, and he came in my mouth.

We just kind of collapsed and laid there breathing hard for like a full minute, and Javier said “god damn”, and we all just laughed. We chatted for a bit, and then Javier got dressed and went home. Jay asked if I had fun (obviously I said yes), and I said I was going to go take a shower and get ready for bed.

Guys… that’s STILL not the end of the night. 🤣

He grabbed me and kissed me, and then he asked why I didn’t cum the second time. I told him I probably just needed a little longer to recover. He had his arm wrapped around me and he started playing with my dick and kept kissing me, and then he lifted his arm and said “lick it”. So… I’m there in his bed, he has one arm wrapped around me and holding me close to him, he’s a little sweaty and smells really good, the whole room smells like sex, I have his and Javier’s cum inside me (plus the cum I swallowed), my ass had already been pounded for over an hour, I came inside a cute guy I had only met once before, and my hot roommate had just ordered me to lick his sweaty armpit. So… of course… I got really hard again.

He kissed me again and said “try to cum again”, and he kind of pushed me off of him and put his legs up on my shoulders. I grabbed the lube and fingered a little into him, and then I started fucking him. I leaned down to kiss him, and he put his arm up again and used his other hand to push my face into his armpit (sorry if this part is a little weird… I know armpits aren’t everyone’s thing, but they REALLY turn me on, especially his). I was licking it and he was pushing my face into it so hard it was almost hard to breathe, and he kept saying things like “your cock feels so good” and “my ass is better than his, I can make you cum”. Insanely hot. 🥵

All of that combined just drove me fucking CRAZY. I leaned back up and grabbed his legs and started fucking him really fast and hard. He VERY rarely bottoms, so he’s not very used to it, and he was basically whimpering… which turned me on even more. He reached up and grabbed my right shoulder and dug his nails into my skin, and he kept saying stuff like “oh fuck, oh fuck, harder, fuck”. I leaned down over him again, with his legs almost next to his face, and I told him I was getting close. He was breathing really hard and his breath kept catching in his throat. He wrapped his arms around my back and I kept going as hard and fast as I could, and I finally came inside him.

I pulled out and he put his legs down, and he goes “Jesus! Look…l”, and he pointed at his stomach. He came (a THIRD time) while I was fucking him, without even touching his dick. I asked when he came, and he said “A while ago! You fucked the hell out of me!”

I’m not gonna lie, that made me feel like a god 😂 I bottom like 90% of the time, so it’s nice to know I’m good at topping. I licked the cum off his stomach and tried to lick his dick, but it was way too sensitive and he told me to stop. We laid there for a few minutes, and then he fell asleep so I went and took a shower.

That whole thing was just… perfect. EVERYTHING felt really good, it was really kinky, there was so much cum, they both smelled sooo good, I was VERY thoroughly fucked and bred by 2 really hot guys, I got to cum inside Jay (which is very very very rare), and I fucked him so hard that he came without touching himself. I’m honestly not horny AT ALL at the moment, but I just keep replaying 3 specific things in my head… first, the way his face looked while I was pounding him. Like I could tell it was really hurting him, but that he loved it. He looked almost desperate, if that makes sense. Second, the way his ass felt around my dick like 30 seconds before I came. It was really tight and it felt so wet (I do precum a lot, so I’m guessing that’s why). And third, when Jay took the cum coated toy out of my ass and just spread Javier’s cheeks and slid it inside him without even asking if it was okay. He just had complete control over both of us and that felt so fucking hot.

I’ll absolutely be doing this again, and Javier has already sent me a friend request on Facebook since he doesn’t have my number.

Anyway, I share most of my experiences on here, and I felt like this one deserved a more thorough explanation. I’ll be shocked if anyone takes the time to read this entire post, but I just needed to share. I am beyond exhausted and now I’m going to get some sleep. Good night! ❤️

[persianflaw]

❛ are you wearing my shirt? ❜ (beejhawk)

OKAY SO THIS TURNED OUT CONSIDERABLY LESS PORNOGRAPHIC THAN I'D INTENDED, I HOPE YOU STILL LIKE IT

cut is primarily for length but it gets ~suggestive~ so be careful if you're opening this on a subway or something

-

“Are you wearing my shirt?”

BJ looked down, still slipping his legs into his pants. He was wearing the same olive drab cotton he wore every single day. “How should I know?”

Hawkeye pointed an accusatory finger. “When you stretched, I saw a hole in the left armpit. That’s my hole. I’ve been meaning to sew that up for a few weeks.”

“So I’ll put it with your laundry at the end of the day. Here, take one of mine if it matters that much to you.” BJ grabbed a semi-folded shirt out of his trunk and tossed it at Hawkeye, who caught it deftly in one hand.

“No, no, no,” said Hawkeye, tossing it back. “You’re not getting out of this. I want my shirt back.”

BJ’s expression was incredulous. “You can’t seriously be arguing with me about an identical shirt. Not just that, a worse identical shirt!”

Hawkeye laughed triumphantly. “So you admit it! You admit it’s not identical!”

“Hawkeye, why on Earth should I care whose shirt this is? We all dress the same anyway, I’m sure our laundry gets mixed up all the time, how can this possibly matter to you?!”

“It’s the principle of the thing!” Hawkeye exclaimed, not quite at a shouting level but nearly.

“And what principle would that be, exactly?” 

“It’s mine and I want it back.”

“You’re absurd,” said BJ, sitting on the end of his cot as he put on his socks. “I’m not arguing about this anymore.” He knew it would be substantially easier to just give Hawkeye the damn shirt back, especially when he was clearly in one of his strange moods. But he was already wearing it, and he was practically done getting dressed, and anyway Hawkeye needed to learn that he couldn’t always get his way.

If he hadn’t expected a hand fisting in the back of his shirt, tugging him backwards onto his cot, well, more fool him. 

He tried to sit up, only for Hawkeye to flop on top of him, trapping him in place as he straddled his hips. Of course BJ could have pushed him off, but being taken by surprise meant he just laid there instead, too shell-shocked to do anything as Hawkeye yanked at the fabric of the shirt, gleefully shouting, “Gimme gimme gimme!” like an overgrown child. Even after he got his senses back and started trying to squirm away, protesting fruitlessly, he was unsuccessful; Hawkeye had him too thoroughly pinned.

And, well, it had been a while, obviously, with Peg being thousands of miles away, and his dreams last night had been on the stimulating side, so he had already been feeling his oats a little that morning, so to speak. And he was a red-blooded adult man, so it was perfectly natural that he might start to stir a little, what with the squirming and the warm, solid weight across his hips and the groping at his chest. (Hawkeye still isn’t wearing a shirt, piped up a small part of his brain that was immediately, ruthlessly silenced by the rest of it.) BJ tried to speak up, to warn Hawkeye, to tell him to get off, but all that came out was a strangled little noise.

Hawkeye stopped dead, his eyes wide as saucers. Too late, BJ realized that the noise he had just made was in the same vein as the noises he made at night, the ones he tried to only make when he thought Hawkeye and Charles were asleep, but which he knew that they had surely heard once or twice and simply not mentioned anything, as roommates did. Which was fine; BJ himself had politely pretended to sleep through a lot of rustling and little noises (or not-so-little noises, as was frequently the case with Hawkeye). But it was a piece of information he really wished Hawkeye didn’t have at that moment.

“I, uh,” Hawkeye said, stumbling over his words, “I’ll just, uh. Get up.” He lifted up off of BJ’s hips and swung a leg over, which served the dual purposes of getting him off – oh God, that phrasing wasn’t helping anything – and inadvertently bringing his leg into contact with, well. BJ made another noise that made him wish he could reach out and grab the individual soundwaves out of the air before anyone else could hear them. Hawkeye scrambled the rest of the way off of his lap, almost falling to the floor in his haste.

BJ sat up slowly, cautiously. He knew he should finish getting dressed and head over to the mess tent before his shift in post-op, but all he wanted to do was crawl under his blankets and hide for at least a week, if not the rest of the war. Getting worked up over a little roughhousing – not even really roughhousing, just being sat on and pawed at for a minute! – was a new low. He needed to take a cold shower. Or, he thought as he didn’t watch the muscles in Hawkeye’s back play under his skin as he pulled on a shirt, maybe a very long, hot one.

Hawkeye had turned his back to BJ, facing the doorway, but he turned his head to the side to address him. “You can, uh. You can keep the shirt. Fits you better anyway.”

[sapnap2]

Okay i’ll do it. starting off strong we have the drarmpits (dream armpits). i always feel like pits r underrated on here and maybe just generally bc i dont ever see people other than me specifically talking about them most of the time. but i just think theres something so … idk how to put it into words but theres just something so human about them that i love likekee i just don’t know. anyways yeah buries my face in them or whatever. next!!! his chest. i dont think its like rewallly super hairy or anything but there’s enough there for me to think about and feel lightheaded doing so. his hairy fucking tits ….. moving swiftly on to one of my favourites. the happy drail :3 one of these days hes gonna reach up or stretch or something on camera that’ll give me a glimpse of his hairy stomach that i then just won’t let go of. it’ll be like that one photo of him sat in a laundry basket but a billion times worse which brings us onto his legs. his beautiful legs. one of the only sections of this that ive seen outside of my own uh Visions shall we say anyways i fucking love his legs theyre the perfect amount of hairiness and i want to floss my teeth on them who said that .. i’ve already mentioned it but that laundry basket photo is my favourite droto of all time i think (id put it here but im sure u know exactly the one i mean). i love all of em but that one is really special to meee. AND I ALMOST FORGOT. the drubes. again i need to bury my face here on my way down to- anyways Anyways. his beard .. idk if that counts but like its hair and on his body soo. i love the colour of it (i think that colour transfers to everything else ive talked about here tbh like that makes sense i think?) anyways something about beard burn goes here. and lastly his hair .. again maybe doesnt count but it’s hair on his body and i want to play w it as he catnaps on my lap etc. i could go on for hours like i could seriously wax poetic about dream and. his beautiful hairy tits. and there we go!! i hope this was enjoyable to read i had the best time picturing all this as i went. urm. dream my boyfriend who i kiss and bury my face in the chest of everyday Yippee!!!! im gonna write and publish a poetry book entirely about. the drody hair and nobody will ever know. except me and u and anyone who reads this. idk im just typing words at this point i feel rly dizzy i need to bury my head in his chest inneedd to smell him <- crazy person thing to say (tagged on the end of this okay. sure).

[dumbdomb]

God.. knowing how bad you wanna be groped gets me hard. I'm definitely gonna get home tonight and cum multiple times to the videos and photos you've posted..

In a similar note.. sitting next to you in the theater, halfway through the movie, when it's already pitch black. You know that's not my seat cos you booked out multiple just so you didn't have to sit next to anyone. During an action scene, my hand reaches out and lands on your upper thigh. You tense, hoping it's just a mistake from an oblivious stranger, but as my fingers inch higher and higher, dragging up your stomach and slipping up the hem of your shirt, pulling it up with me. You squirm, but you really don't wanna make a scene, especially being found in such a compromising position as I also drag your bra up, letting your tits flop out.

It starts simple enough, just fondling them, making them bounce, with my eyes glued to the screen, almost using them as a toy to fidget with, but soon it gets a little crueller, soft pinches and pulls, as if I'm trying to milk you, moving to soft slaps as I amuse myself with your tits. I wish I could turn around and worship them with my mouth like they deserve but.. well we don't want anyone to notice anything, do we? Besides, I know If I do a good job, you'll meet me in the bathroom afterwards, where I can worship everything from your breasts, your armpits, thighs and stomach, just like a goddess deserves...

yes, i want to be groped so bad!!! i think about it every time i'm touching my tits. i hope you fantasize about molesting me when you cum.

you probably didn't realize i'd been aware of your existence at all. i was always so careful to look away whenever your gaze moved in my direction. i always thought you hadn't noticed me, with so many people frequently becoming regulars at this cinema. but the last time i was here, i could've sworn you were watching me... like, the way you looked at me- as if you weren't really here for the movies...

i decided to dress a little differently this time. i thought it'd be fun to see if you noticed me more, plus i was already a little aroused that day. i needed to watch something with lots of action, and maybe that'd get this horniness out of my system. it was bad enough that i was showing up wearing a flimsy bralette with no support under a boxy tee, a short skirt, and cute transparent mesh panties... like, who the heck is going to the theater dressed in something so easily accessible... at least i had the sense to wear my extra big, warm, comfy jacket so i wouldn't get too freezing cold in there!

when you sat down next to me, my heart was beating so fast. i thought you were going to say something, but maybe you were just shy... i thought we'd have a chance to talk after the movie. maybe we'd be really good friends!? i mean, we both obviously love movies, right? it never occurred to me how brazen you were feeling then. this was your chance: today.

i was startled when i felt something on my thigh, but i figured it was just a response to the film. i mean, who would put their hand on someone's body if they hadn't even officially met before?! obviously, it was a mistake. i turned my attention back to the movie and failed to realize you hadn't stopped... your hand was still there.

i didn't feel you carefully moving over my lacy skirt, i didn't even notice when you lifted my shirt enough to see the pathetic excuse for a "bra" i chose to wear. i had no idea until, among the loud explosions of the movie, i felt the band of my bra being pulled up above my chest. i looked down and was shocked to see my tits were out, and i was horrified to see your hand was responsible for it! you were molesting me!

i tried to speak, a whisper of a breath that would never be heard over the noise from the movie. it wouldn't matter anyway, bc as soon as i opened my mouth, you began to fondle my chest... i must've turned bright red on the spot! how could this be happening. i didn't even have time to think before you started playing with them. i just stared at the screen, not knowing how to respond. i stared at the movie and tried to ignore it, squirming in my seat whenever you rolled my nipples between your fingers. i wanted to get up and leave, mortified that i let this get so far, but i did nothing... (because i didn't really want to leave. i never wanted this moment to end. it felt so amazing. i wished for more...)

i guess that's why i pretended it was so normal when you moved the armrest up between us to sit closer to me. groping me more, placing an arm around me just to have better access to my tits. you never did anything rough, but i couldn't focus on anything else after that. it actually made me feel sad when you stopped and slowly pulled my bra and shirt down into place like nothing happened. as the lights came on and the credits began, i realized the film was over.

i couldn't even move. when you got up to leave, i reached for your wrist with a look of yearning washed upon my face. i was just thinking, how could i walk? i was so disoriented. i needed you to help me. you must've understood bc you got me up and supported me as we walked to the mostly empty restroom. there's usually no one around at this time, that's why i come. i never really cared for busy, crowded places. so once someone walked out and a few moments passed- you decided to sneak back inside.

it was just us. i sat on the chaise-like bench in front of the full-length mirrors. i was checking my hair and makeup when the last person was cleaning their hands. i never expected to look up and see you: to watch as you locked the door behind yourself... i was finally able to say something, "why are you doing this? what do you want from me?" i was scared, but i didn't feel like i was ever in any real danger.

you told me that you wanted to do everything you could to treat me the way a goddess deserves. you explained how you've noticed me ever since i first got a membership rewards card. i didn't know you'd been so interested in me from the very beginning... then, you started following me online, paying attention to what i liked. you were hoping i'd finally notice you, too.

all i could do was look down. you'd never think it, based on my outfit then, but i felt so shy and embarrassed. i set my hand next to me on the seat, quietly inviting you closer. how could i do such a thing... you had me then. immediately, you walked over and sat near me- looking up to see the full view of us together in the mirror.

you spoke so softly, with a kind and warm voice, encouraging me to watch as you lifted my shirt up again. groping my tits like you did earlier, wanting me to look as you let my tits flop out in the reflection. at that very moment, i felt like an actual slut. topless with some stranger in a public bathroom! what was i even thinking...

i tried to squirm away, and you held my arms back, caressing my tits as i not-so-convincingly wrestled to get free (to no avail). you just used the opportunity to push my legs apart, to show me the giant wet spot between my thighs... honestly, we were both surprised... you pressed your hand over it, and we could hear the audible squish as your fingers were covered in my slime. (to be fair, the meshy panties i had on were not the most practical in this situation. 🫣)

you could see the subtle change in my facial expression and dropped to your knees right away. you pulled my panties to the side and covered my little clit in your warm mouth before i could say anything else. i moaned, watching my tits being groped again as you sucked my cock. and you wouldn't let me get away from this feeling, teasing my nipples every time i looked away. i couldn't believe one of my public cnc fantasies was actually happening... 💕🩷

[asiogie]

okay fine drops the dream bodyhair manifesto in ur askbox. fine. if u really insist. maybe i will. Okay i’ll do it. starting off strong we have the drarmpits (dream armpits). i always feel like pits r underrated on here and maybe just generally bc i dont ever see people other than me specifically talking about them most of the time. but i just think theres something so … idk how to put it into words but theres just something so human about them that i love likekee i just don’t know. anyways yeah buries my face in them or whatever. next!!! his chest. i dont think its like rewallly super hairy or anything but there’s enough there for me to think about and feel lightheaded doing so. his hairy fucking tits ….. moving swiftly on to one of my favourites. the happy drail :3 one of these days hes gonna reach up or stretch or something on camera that’ll give me a glimpse of his hairy stomach that i then just won’t let go of. it’ll be like that one photo of him sat in a laundry basket but a billion times worse which brings us onto his legs. his beautiful legs. one of the only sections of this that ive seen outside of my own uh Visions shall we say anyways i fucking love his legs theyre the perfect amount of hairiness and i want to floss my teeth on them who said that .. i’ve already mentioned it but that laundry basket photo is my favourite droto of all time i think (id put it here but im sure u know exactly the one i mean). i love all of em but that one is really special to meee. AND I ALMOST FORGOT. the drubes. again i need to bury my face here on my way down to- anyways Anyways. his beard .. idk if that counts but like its hair and on his body soo. i love the colour of it (i think that colour transfers to everything else ive talked about here tbh like that makes sense i think?) anyways something about beard burn goes here. and lastly his hair .. again maybe doesnt count but it’s hair on his body and i want to play w it as he catnaps on my lap etc. i could go on for hours like i could seriously wax poetic about dream and. his beautiful hairy tits. and there we go!! i hope this was enjoyable to read i had the best time picturing all this as i went. urm. dream my boyfriend who i kiss and bury my face in the chest of everyday Yippee!!!! im gonna write and publish a poetry book entirely about. the drody hair and nobody will ever know. except me and u and anyone who reads this. idk im just typing words at this point i feel rly dizzy i need to bury my head in his chest inneedd to smell him <- crazy person thing to say (tagged on the end of this okay. sure). anywaysss hands u the deepest darkest part of my brain drinks some chamomile tea and goes to sleeb for 10hrs zzz <3

really good fucking work anon just really great literature in the askbox today

[dangerouscommiesubversive]

WIP Wednesday

I got tagged by @materassassino and why the hell not, I have so many WIPs right now.

From the King-Ohger thing I started today:

“Good!” Jeramie finally lets go of his waist and gives him a pat on the shoulder. “Then let’s go find Gira, normally around this time he’s in the library—he’s been doing his very best to learn about, you know, economics and civil infrastructure and so on, ‘king things’ as he calls them, but he really needs a dictionary to be convenient while he’s reading.” He heads down the hall, reaching over as he does to take Yanma’s hand like they’re gross teenagers on a date. “He’s very much enjoying having access to Himeno’s library, as a matter of fact, she also has an excellent drama collection. I’ve been timing him, we’re trying to see if he can make one of his villainous king extempores last a full ten minutes.”

Towed along slightly behind him, Yanma stares, distracted from the warm feeling now pervading his entire body by his own bafflement. “You two really made for each other, weren’t you.”

“Mm. I try not to give too much credence to the idea of fate, but it is very convenient that we mesh so well, isn’t it?”

“So what’s with this, then? What do you want me for?”

“Well, we’ve both got a minimum of two functioning eyes, don’t we?” Jeramie glanced back at him with a sunny smile. “Matters of theoretical fate or narrative determinacy aside, one of the ways in which we mesh well is that we’ve both got excellent taste.”

“You–I–do you always talk like this?”

“Like what?”

From an extremely silly SVSSS thing that's mostly back-burnered at the moment but which I think about a lot:

Shen Qingqiu awoke one morning with his face rather awkwardly smushed into his husband's armpit and discovered, to his intense displeasure, that he was being narrated.

Initially, of course, he was simply displeased to be awake, and assumed that the voice he heard was someone speaking in the near distance. It was only when he was standing in front of the bronze mirror in the bathroom, cleaning his teeth, that he fully processed what was happening.

"What the fuck," he said to the mirror.

Once his teeth were actually clean, his hair was at least out of the way, and he'd put on clothing that didn't have any Binghe-induced rips, he sat down to figure out what the hell was going on. He certainly wasn't hearing the dry, computer-cheerful tones of the System, which hadn't actually spoken to him in some time. Nor did it sound like anyone he knew or knew of in the world of Proud Immortal Demon Way. (Not that he would have particularly appreciated being narrated by Sha Hualing or Tianlang-jun or someone, but it would have given him somewhere to start.) As far as he could tell the voice belonged to a woman, who was probably an adult and definitely slightly congested. She wasn't a very deep voice, or a very high one–sort of mid-range, whatever that was called. She was also speaking English, with what he thought was an American accent of some kind, which seemed like it was probably important. Shen Qingqiu's English had never been very strong, but it was good enough to understand what she was saying most of the time, at least, and if this kept up his fluency would probably improve. Score one for skills with extremely limited application in this world.

Did Proud Immortal Demon Way even have an English translation?

"Binghe," he said, when Binghe came into the room with breakfast, "you can't hear a woman speaking right now, can you?"

Binghe blinked at him. "No, shizun. Which woman was it? Should I talk to her?"

And last, from one of the ghost story interlude shorts:

“Huaisang, you’ve got to stop throwing things at the electricians.”

Too...many...WIPs...

Anyway! I will tag @giraffeter @plushie-sentai and @timetoddddavis!

[girltomboy]

Okay, so there were more things I wanted to say in that LSD trip post. I will start with the pettiest one. So, in the weeks leading up to the actual event, I kept getting the feeling that our friend (call him Andrew) would somehow spoil or at least mess up the vibes with some dramatic moment. He has a history of drugs turning him a little on the overbearing side; before he started getting panic attacks on weed he would go on long soliloquies about how cool it was that we were getting high together, and how awesome weed is. At times he would even start crying and telling us how much he loves us and how much he values our friendship, etc. Now, I have never harbored any judgement or ill feelings for those moments, on the contrary - I used to get up and hug him, rewarding his emotional sincerity with physical affection and verbal encouragement while maintaining a casual attitude. However, this behavior was not exclusive to weed: he said similar things about alcohol whenever we happened to be drinking, ecstasy whenever we happened to be rolling, etc. (minus the crying, I'm pretty sure that was just one time). So it started feeling as if whatever substance he was on it would take over him and potentially overwhelm him a little? I dunno, but at some point I legit started getting a little irritated with it. And I feel kinda bad about it, but I just can't help that he starts pissing me off when he's being dramatic. It's almost as if he's performing for the substance or whatever. He was on my mind when I mentioned my friends' willingness to perform in that previous post.

ANYWAY, enough intro. That gut feeling of mine ended up being true. He started trying to become the center of attention again, saying acid was making him feel so brave and evolved, saying he felt as if his "balls were dropping" (exact words), and it all lead to his proposal for a walk. So that's where and why the trip started going downhill; it isn't to say I hated it since that moment, but the vibe got spoiled and could not be rebuilt, and it can all be traced to the walk. And he was also the one who tried to go into the bathroom while my best friend was still there, and I'm pretty sure my best friend's boyfriend took the flak for that. As in, she got mad at him for letting Andrew into their bedroom/ check in the bathroom when she wasn't ready yet. But her bf had literally told Andrew that she was still showering, and they'll let him know when she's done so he can go in and shower. Not to mention there was a perfectly functional extra shower in a bathroom that wasn't INSIDE my best friend's bedroom, but he wouldn't use that one because it was "too small". Anyway. I sound a bit frustrated with him still, but in reality I don't think I am anymore. Everyone involved has moved on with no hard feelings, these are just some thoughts that I don't really feel that I can share with anyone rn, so I have to put them somewhere.

Another thing I wanted to write about was what my best friend said to me the next day or 2 days later. We were talking about looking in the mirror while tripping. I forgot to mention in my initial post, but I really enjoyed looking at myself while I was on acid. It felt satisfying to "zoom in" on certain parts of my face, my hair, my body, even my outfit. I was just in a long sleeved baseball shirt and baggy jeans, but they just felt comfy and looked nice on me, I thought. I especially enjoyed taking my shirt and sports bra off and looking at my breasts. Feeling them, poking them, putting cold water from the sink on them (trying to wash my armpits lol). My best friend and Andrew were saying how they couldn't really stand to look in the mirror for too long while tripping. They saw their face lines, dark circles, spots, curves, and it freaked them out. My best friend then told me she saw me as "older, and longer like Slenderman", and at some point she couldn't stop seeing me as her ex friend, with whom she recently had a pretty nasty and toxic falling out. I was so taken aback I wondered what the hell had I possibly done to her for her to see me that way 💀 I quickly realized that it wasn't about me. How she saw me was not about me, it was about her, her own fears and troubles with that ex friend, or with herself. Their falling out was quite dramatic, and I don't condemn her for the wounds it left; they had a long friendship but together had a very Plutonian, very insidious history. I remember her opening up to me about some insecurities she still had because of this friend back when my boyfriend and I started dating and I asked her whether she felt some type of way about our relationship potentially interfering with the group dynamic (in retrospect I was silly to have those fears, but I'm glad I asked). So she has a bit of projection history related to this ex friend. I do wish those fears had not interfered so badly with our time together. Like it's just sad for me to think about how I was prioritizing her comfort, meanwhile she was looking at me and saw something completely different. It didn't help that we actually barely got to spend any time at all just the two of us. If it wasn't the others' presence, it was this humongous distance between us. Overall I just feel her even further away now, and in about a week's time she'll be moving abroad with her boyfriend, so she's about to be even further and further away.

[unhingedbutpretty]

Nyssala's Dear Diary — 2

Somewhere down the Chiontar, 29 Eleasis 1492 DR

Daaaamn diary, no one back home will EVER believe in anything that happened to me in the last ten day. No way.

Shit, even I am having a hard time processing all this weird stuff. This is the first blank notebook we found on the road, and I don't even know how to begin.

So I'll begin from the start: I finally got my day off, and was just crossing the Wyrm's Path when I saw people running. At first I thought that there were some gang causing trouble or something, but when I looked up TA-DAH! A mindflayer ship!

Next thing I know, I was in a pod with a worm squirming behind my eye. The good side (if we can call any of this "good") is that I was not alone. There is a strange sense of relief when you're fucked up, but there's some more people who are just as fucked up as you, you know? Fucked up camaraderie, that is.

So now I have a whole bunch of new fucked up comrades! The first I've met was Jaleem. He's tall, handsome, and has this angry scar in his face that gives him a mysterious look... Almost made me forget he was a seldarine. Of course I haven't told him... [the next lines were carefully scrapped over] ...he's a paladin and all! Really cute.

There's also Ilya, they're half-drow-half-eladrin, a very funny fellow. They said that Jarlaxle Baenre is their father, my blood froze a little bit, I confess. But well, ... [the next few lines are full of erasures] ...as long as I keep my mouth shut I'll be ok, I guess? I wonder how they are so sure that Jarlaxle is their father... Tip off: stay away from them while they're casting spells.

A githyianki threatened us, but we soon became friends. She's strong, weird-looking and a bit bossy, totally my type, but it seems like she's also Ilya's type so I won't meddle, you know?

There's a cleric who openly wears a sharran armor, I haven't said anything about it and no one else brought the subject so I'll just let it sink I guess? Anyway she's a bit annoying and she seems to not like the gith, but I feel some unresolved sexual tension underlying the... [there are a few lines of scrapped, erasured text]

That wizard won't shut up, for Lolth's webbed armpits, it's taking all my concentration to write among his monologue. But well he's a good cook. Side note: WTNH THE WIZARD JUST ATE A PAIR OF BOOTS!!!

The elf pointed a knife to my throat, how innovative for surface standards — he later revealed himself a vampire — who later sucked Ilya dry — who we had to protect from Jaleem because he was so PISSED — even more pissed than Ilya themselves, by the way — I know the type, I met a lot of people like him at the city: all sweet talking trying to blow his charms on us... Any of us. Except Jaleem, of course. Tip off: don't fall for it. He wants something. I hope Ilya is aware of that, too.

The "Blade of Frontiers", how someone so gorgeous comes up with a name so silly? He's that kind of person who is drop dead beautiful but seems to be totally oblivious to it... And his voice, holy shit. He could be heroic in my tent, I'd totally play damsel in distress for him. But I guess Jaleem is already on the run for this one. Oh well.

I wonder if the tiefling's flames would still burn me underwater. I mean, the river is right there. Just an idea. What can I say, what doesn't kill me makes me stronger? I have a thing for people who can snap me in two. Guilty, guilty.

Entry 1

[bindtorturekillme]

Your Eyes, Vacant and Stained

Ch.9 - 4k

Pairing: Frank Iero x Gerard Way

They did this until they got to the edge of town where they sped off onto the highway towards their next stop, Utah.

“Ah, finally…” Gerard tapped away on his phone beside Frank.

Frank refused to take his eyes off the road as civilization fell away to be replaced with an endlessly flat desert framed half by the nearly clear blue sky and half by tall, brown mountains.

Warnings 

Gore, Death, Murder, WORK-IN-PROGRESS, not completed (and chapters unknown) but I know the ending, trust me guys I will write it, I just need people to love this idea with me, Zombies, Gay, mcr??

Support my AO3 with part nine otherwise, enjoy ♥

Chap.1 | Chap.2 | Chap.3 | Chap.4 | Chap.5 | Chap.6 | Chap.7 | Chap.8 | Chap.10 |

Frank awoke the next morning bitterly cold with an intense craving for alcohol almost immediately. He lapped at his dry lips and searched around the now empty room for water but was unable to locate any.

He was slow moving, but the curiosity of where everyone, and all their things disappeared too was enough to push him to dress quickly and put everything he brought back into his duffle. Slinging the bag over his shoulder, he left for the lobby where most of the group was.

Ray was leaning against the front desk in front of Charlotte, obviously flexing slightly. Charlotte had a soft blush on her face as she shamelessly flirted back. They hardly noticed Frank as he hid in the shadows of the hallway, not wanting to ruin their moment alone.

Frank could see Gerard and Mikey shoving bags into the RV; Scarlet making her way back inside as he examined the area.

 Frank decided to wait until Scarlet walked through the front doors before letting himself be seen. Still, no one looked his way anyways because Scarlet immediately started talking, “The mini fridges have now also been stocked. Those plus most of the big fridge and some of the freezer space should keep us fed at least until we find another place safe enough to loot. Morning, Frank.” Scarlet casually greeted Frank, making Ray and Charlotte almost jump when they realize he was standing behind them.

“Oh, hey man!” Ray pushed himself off the counter to greet him, not fully turning away from Charlotte who attempted (poorly) to hide her disappointment of her time alone with Ray being interrupted.

Frank waved weakly, Scarlet continued without hesitation, “There’s enough room in the freezer for a good bit of lick-orrr,” Scarlet mimicked drinking with her thumb and pinky, smiling at herself. “Yeah soo… I dunno what you guys wanna bring but I think everyone could pick like three, maybe four, bottles of liquor from the backroom and we can discuss what doesn’t fit when the time comes.”

Scarlet smiled with all her teeth; Frank felt like his own void beside the three of them. He didn’t feel like he belonged.

Ray’s fist banging the desk twice shocked the silent room to alarm again, “Welp! I guess Lottie and I can grab some bottles—”

“I’ll come with you.” Scarlet declared, all three leaving Frank to stand alone in the lobby. He watched as Gerard and Mikey finished shoving their bags into the RV’s storage. Absently, he walked out to them.

Gerard and Mikey were dressed very similarly, band tee and jeans; both men having noticeable sweat staining their armpits. The summer Nevada sun beat down on Frank as he got closer to them, causing a sweat to break slightly across his forehead.

“Morning.” Frank barely spoke louder than a grumble, Gerard turned to face him with a slight grin on his face ever so slightly smirking as their eyes met. Mikey did not turn around.

“Morning, how’d you sleep?” Mikey slammed the storage door shut and boarded the RV without saying a word, but neither Gerard nor Frank really gave a shit about his attitude right now.

“Fine…” They stood awkwardly together, Gerard producing a cigarette seemingly out of nowhere. He lit it and inhaled, making Frank almost forget how to breathe as he watched, mesmerized.

“Sorry,” Gerard inhaled again, Frank’s confusion painted on his face as he noticed with Gerard’s next exhale that he was actively trying not to blow the smoke in his direction. So, he remembered his manners… “We ran out of space after the girls piled their bags in.” Gerard thumbed towards the door Mikey slammed shut only minutes earlier.

“Oh…”

“Yeah,” Gerard interrupted Frank just to pause to take another hit. “It’s alright though, my stuff couldn’t fit either.” His devious smirk grew while he routinely smoked. “It’s not like there’s enough room for all six of us in the RV anyways,” he shrugged. “Figured we could take the pick-up too.” Inhaling…

And holding it.

As if he was using it to count the seconds before Frank responded.

“Okay… Makes sense.” A gruesome silence enveloped them for too long; Gerard’s smoke infused exhale was silent.

In the same moment that the RV’s engine startled them back to reality, Ray and the girls bustled out of the double doors carrying only two bottles of wine and a bottle of whiskey. The whiskey clearly missing a handful of shots worth.

“That doesn’t look like much.” Frank directed their attention to the three moving towards them, wanting the silence to end.

Charlotte groaned, nodding, but Ray was the one to speak up, “We drank more than we should’ve last night.” Gerard scoffed, flicking the ash from his cigarette. The girls made their way onto the RV as its engine kicked back to life.

Ray paused between them, feeling the heavy tension between them. Gerard smoked; Frank squirmed. “What’re you guys doing with those?” He pointed at the pile of bags that belonged to Gerard and Frank that were sitting on the pavement.

“No more room in the camper storage,” Gerard’s gaze lingered longer on Frank between his flicks over to Ray. “Figured we could take the truck. Maybe get a head start and drag away the attention of the zombies before you guys leave.” Frank noted the fact that Gerard finally called them zombies, after so much resistance, before realizing Gerard’s plan was to essentially make them bait.

“Oh… That’s actually a pretty good idea.” Ray seemed to not notice Frank’s face shifting to fear as he stared at Gerard. “Did you tell Mikey, yet?”

Gerard shook his head, half of his mouth opening into a smirk as he spoke, “Not yet, we just thought of it.” Frank stood stunned as Ray nodded in understanding.

“I’ll let him know, just give us a heads up when you’re ready to go.” Ray patted Gerard’s shoulder before making his way into the RV as well. Leaving Gerard smirking down at Frank.

“I didn’t agree to be bait, Gerard,” Frank threw his hands into the air, “I haven’t even gotten to shower yet!” He crossed them over his chest. Gerard’s smirk just grew into a devilish grin as he finished off the cigarette, crushing the orange butt under his foot.

“I haven’t showered either. We can lure the zombies away then throw them off with our dead scent. Like they do in the TV shows.” Gerard shrugged, shoving his hands carelessly into his pockets.

“Our zombies, I appreciate you finally calling them that, by the way, are a lot different than the shit we see on TV,” Frank paused. “Also, this isn’t fucking TV!”

Gerard chucked before leaning over and grabbing both of their bags and Gerard’s extra backpack. Turning on his heels, Gerard set off towards the truck that sat on the opposite side of the parking lot, much closer to the gate than the RV was.

Scrambling after him, Frank was sure there was nothing he could say that was going to convince Gerard not to ride alone with him. There was only a minor amount of anxiety that built in Frank’s stomach about finally being alone with Gerard again, and while they were both conscious.

“Hey!” Gerard ignored Frank as he tucked a bag under the front passenger seat, moving around to the other side to shove the other duffle under the driver’s side seat. “Gerard.” Frank said sternly, moving around the back of the truck to the driver’s side to meet Gerard at the door. “What kind of an idea is this. We could probably all fit in that RV, plus why would we want to separate from everyone else?”

Gerard straightened, turning to loom down at Frank, making him feel smaller than usual. “It’s payback for what happened yesterday.”

Frank’s face heated, red running up his neck into his nose. “Pay…back…” In a flash, Gerard had yanked his shotgun from the front seat and pressed the barrel to the underside of Frank’s chin. Keeping the gun parallel to their bodies, it was unseen from the RV.

Gerard’s eyes flashed down to Frank’s growing pants before shooting back up to meet his gaze. Embarrassment harnessing him, Frank mindlessly swallowed, hard.

“I saw what you left for me, that was one of my only black shirts.” Gerard tsked. “But I was talking about freezing up at the gate.” Gerard dropped the gun from his chin and slid it onto the floor of the driver’s seat.

Frank exhaled sharply, attempting to remember the fear he felt in the hopes it also killed his boner. “I guess that’s fair…” He agreed, but Gerard moved past him to greet someone else. Frank turned around to meet Mikey approaching.

“Ray told me what your plan was, sure you want to go alone?” Mikey completely ignored Frank standing there. Gerard didn’t attempt to include him in their conversation either.

“We’ll be fine, I’ve gotta plan.” Gerard shrugged carelessly, shoving his fists into his pockets again while Mikey’s eyes drilled into him. “Here’s where I was thinking we could check out next.” Gerard pulled his phone out and pulled up a map to a location Frank was unable to make out from where he was standing. His unfamiliarity of the west gave him anxiety that he attempted to ease by indulging in trusting Gerard.

Mikey nodded, pulled the address up on his own phone and began walking back to the RV without another word.

“Where are we…-“

“Utah, baby.” Gerard hoisted himself into the driver’s seat, flashing a wicked smile at Frank with a cigarette between his teeth. Frank wasn’t sure how the cigarette got there but he desperately wanted to huff it after he watched Gerard suck on it. Gerard slammed his door shut and turned the ignition. As Frank made his way around the truck to hop in alongside him, Gerard clicked the locks and met Frank’s now panicking eyes.

“What the fu-“

“Open the gate. You froze yesterday, prove to us we should keep you around.” Gerard inhaled deeply and puffed his smoke straight at Frank like a dragon. Frank coughed dramatically, stumbling further away from the truck.

Grumbling, Frank made his way to the front gate. Gripping two of the bars, he scouted around the area. The street seemed to have cleared since yesterday, it was difficult to see within the houses. the couple roaming undead seeming to be soliciting close to homes with noise coming from them.

Frank began to push the gate open again, pushing away the memories from the previous day. The gate squealed as he pushed but nothing could distract him until he heard the slam of a loud, plastic door.

Frank’s eyes whipped around to the RV and saw Mikey, Scarlet, and Charlotte nearly pressed against the glass of the windshield in the RV. Gerard laid back, relaxed in the front seat of the truck; one of his arms stretched around the passengers headrest while the other brought and pulled away the cigarette he was indulging on.

If it hadn’t been for the loud shattering of glass to his right, Frank wouldn’t have realized some zombies had been alerted. Outside of a nearby house, Frank saw half of a body sticking out of a window on the first floor of a nearby home.

The window was small, rectangular and barely allowing the bloated undead to get through. There were three other zombies in that same yard who instantly became interested in the body that flung itself out the window, screaming a gutturally bloody screech.

Frank froze, his feet and head felt hot, but the rest of his body was frozen even as a line of sweat began to bead across his forehead.

The body in the window continued the scream, but Frank watched as it planted two hands into the glass shards still jutting from the window frame and pushing itself up like a baby learning how to crawl.

The zombie’s face contorted into a scrunched screech as it threw its head back, screaming in an octave Frank had ever heard before. Blood running from its eyes, mouth and palms, it dragged its body out of the window. It didn’t seem to notice it was dragging glass through its body until the body was sliced open, from chin to stomach, as it fell out into the grass below.

Frank watched in horror as it began to drag itself through the yard. The left side slacking behind the right, it whipped its arm up and pointed it in Frank’s direction, leading the other undead in the yard to turn and stare at Frank.

And Frank did the same thing he did yesterday, he fucking froze.

Before a horde could form, Gerard was by Franks side, pushing him and the gate together as if it weighed nothing. “Get in the truck!” He barked, pushing Frank away from him.

Frank hesitated again, but only momentarily before twisting and stumbling to the truck. Without thinking, he pulled himself into the driver’s seat, smashed the gear to drive and squealed past the gate into the road.

Frank came to a squealing stop as Gerard ran up and hauled himself into the passenger seat. Without another thought, Frank followed Gerard’s plan to distract the zombies which were all now very interested in getting to their truck.

Frank pushed his palm deeply into the wheels horn as he watched the already forming group move from the lawns into the street next to him, steadily increasing in speed.

“I hope you know how we’re going to get them off of us.” Frank turned to Gerard as he floored the gas pedal. The truck choked and coughed repeatedly as it kicked off into the street, successfully catching the attention of the horde.

“Slow down a bit, let them chase us. Just keep going straight.” Gerard was strangely calm, which helped Frank level his own anxiety as he relaxed off the speed. “You go too fast; they can’t keep up with us. Thus, we lose their attention, and our plan was a waste.”

Gerard pointed Frank on and off the main road and through numerous neighborhoods, directing him when to slow down and speed up. Frank quickly realized they were leading zombies off the main roads and leaving them within the neighborhoods to clear the road.

They did this until they got to the edge of town where they sped off onto the highway towards their next stop, Utah.

“Ah, finally…” Gerard tapped away on his phone beside Frank. Frank refused to take his eyes off the road as civilization fell away to be replaced with an endlessly flat desert framed half by the nearly clear blue sky and half by tall, brown mountains.

“What?” Frank popped the ballooning silence as Gerard continued typing on his phone.

“Ray finally got to me…” He stopped again, Frank was beginning to interpret this as stand-offish and felt like he had just disappointed Gerard further by freezing up again earlier. But, as Frank opened his mouth to further probe, Gerard continued, “Ray said they’re about halfway to Utah.” Gerard paused again; Frank swore he could hear his fingers tapping but the truck groaned much louder. “So… we’re probably like, ten minutes behind them?”

Gerard put the phone down and stared directly at Frank, but Frank continued to watch the road. Much like the video Gerard had shown him of the piles of melting, fly infested zombies, these roads had smaller mounds of bodies. They weren’t as fly infested, and Frank thought he could still tell which body parts were where, as these bodies weren’t nearly as disfigured and cooked. Vultures could be seen poking and slurping pieces of meat; the meat almost looked a sickly green on the inside, but Frank attempted to convince himself the sun was making him see that.

 Even though they quickly drove, Frank was unable to prevent his brain from showing him images of the zombies attacking someone – or something – and melting together under the scorching sun as the ground bakes them from their feet up.

The visual of maggots being laid within the squishing flesh, feasting away at half eaten bodies that have been bubbling like cheese on a frying pan made Frank’s stomach turn and he contemplated lighting up.

“It sounds like the next place they want to stop is Cedar Cit-ay!” Gerard grew a toothy grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Mikey wants to stop by the mountains on their way… We have time to kill.” He continued, shrugging. Frank attempted to ignore the zombies that weren’t quite melted but didn’t quite look… normal anymore. Some were still able to roam the dry, prickling landscape but many were covered in splinters from the cacti, or were half melted and stuck in place.

Gerard turned away to grit at the ugly green sprouts of grass that now littered the desert. The cacti looked thick and tall but the grass growing from the hot earth looked like the tufts of animal fur you pull off cats and dogs during shedding season.

“Mikey likes to hike?” Frank tried to sound cool, calm, and casual. Pretending everything between Mike and him was fine.

“Oh, he loves to, back home he loved to walk our dogs, it was his thing…” Gerard fell short, and Frank heard it in the way he spoke. There was more to that memory, but Gerard was unable to push it out. And Frank wasn’t one to pry so he dropped it.

They drove in silence for a long time, eventually the roads cleared more and more. Neither said anything, but Frank could feel the tension growing. A little over half an hour into their drive the blue and orange ‘Welcome to Utah’ sign came into view.

“Life elevated… Isn’t Colorado taller than Utah?” Gerard turned his attention to Frank, stunning him out of his nearly dissociative state.

“Is it?” Frank had never traveled much before work, and that was just a recent perk from his last promotion. He had no idea how tall a state was, or if that was even the proper term to describe one state’s elevation to another.

“Colorado has Pikes Peak, it’s like one of the tallest mountains in the U.S… I think…” Gerard rubbed his hairless chin thoughtfully.

“Why don’t you look it up?” With Frank’s family lacking a lot of common sense, he grew accustomed to telling others to look up their questions rather than ask him for the answer.

Gerard caught Frank’s gaze when he lifted his phone to show his black lockscreen, pointing a finger in the top corner. “No signal.”

“Darn.” Frank said, emotionlessly.

“Hey!” As Frank turned to look at him, Gerard lightly slapped his hand against Frank’s cheek a few times. “Think through how you’re going to act before I make you pay me back for my shirt.” Gerard held Frank’s cheek as he spoke. Frank watched as Gerard’s eyes darkened, and his smile grew devilish.

Gerard rubbed his thumb just under Frank’s bottom lip, causing his mouth to slack open slightly. Gerard tsked, “You’re so fucking cute.” Gerard forced Frank to rip his eyes away and back towards the road. “Watch the road. I’m not dying in a car accident.” Frank felt painfully hard as his erection grew into the zipper of his jeans again.

Gerard smiled at himself as he relaxed his head against his headrest. “I don’t think there’s really anything out here for us to hit.” Frank waved a hand out at the landscape in front of them. Since it was hardly past noon now, the sun was high above and the zombies that were still stumbling around were being slowed every second.

Gerard lolled his head to the side to gaze at Frank, “Don’t say that. We don’t have any wood to knock on.” He smirked, watching Frank closely.

“You’re superstitious?”

“You’re not?” Confusion twisted Frank’s face.

“Why would I be?” As if an otherworldly presence heard Frank testing the universe, a loud popping sound exploded around the two of them. Both men jumped slightly and began looking around for the source.

Immediately, the scraping of metal against asphalt took over the air and screeched through their ear drums. Frank swerved off the side of the road and slammed on the brake, thankful that both decided to buckle up as they jolted forward.

The screeching stopped as the truck coughed again, choking on it for a moment before going silent as Frank put the truck into park and pulled the key back towards him.

Gerard was out first, nearly hopping to the ground, already examining the back tire on his side. Frank got out and saw both tires on his side were fine. Making his way around the back, he immediately saw the shredded rubber remains of the back tire.

Gerard just squatted in front of it, examining it as if there was nothing he could do.

“Fuck.” Was all Frank could get out. Gerard stood and slapped his palm against Frank’s shoulder.

“Good job, kid.”

“I’m not a kid.”

“You basically caused this.” Gerard shrugged, giggling slightly to himself. Frank punched him, but it hardly made Gerard move.

“All because I couldn’t knock on wood?! That’s bullshit. This isn’t even my truck! Fuck, why didn’t I think to check ANYTHING before I took it. What was I even thinking.” Frank was panicking now, rambling because of it. He squatted then, holding his head in his hands as he stared at the ground.

“Hey,” Gerard got down to his level, this time gently placing his hand on his shoulder. “We’ll be fine. Look,” Gerard turned and pointed in the direction they were driving in. “See that building? We can make it there before the end of the day, here…” Gerard pulled his phone out and played around on the map they were using to get to St. George.

He zoomed in close to the building nearby on the map but no data about it was coming up. Gerard was able to see it would take almost an hour to walk. Frank returned his head to his hands and squeezed his eyes shut.

Gerard let him mope for a few minutes while he leaned against the truck and smoked a cigarette. As he reached the end, he watched Frank, who hadn’t moved in the last ten minutes of them being there.

Gerard squatted in front of Frank and offered him the cigarette. Frank couldn’t see him, but he opened his eyes at the scent. Staring at the cigarette for a moment, Gerard pushed it towards him to offer it again and Frank took it. Inhaling deeply and holding it momentarily, he coughed it out. Gerard smirked at him as he took another big hit from the dying butt.

When Frank offered it back to Gerard, he silently offered him the rest and Frank silently thanked him by finishing it.

“So, if we get going now, we can get there before two. Hopefully when we get there one of us will get service, or they’ll have wi-fi we can connect to.” Gerard pulled Frank up with him and began to lead him to the truck to grab their bags.

“Do you think Ray or Mikey will see the truck and know it’s us?” Frank questioned, mindlessly grabbing a duffle while Gerard grabbed a bag.

“If they haven’t already gone by.” Frank dissociated slightly, attempting to push away any strong feelings as the buzzing of tobacco kicked him into gear.

“I thought they were stopping somewhere?” Frank stuttered as Gerard moved around to the driver’s side, grabbing the last duffle and his gun.

Gerard just shrugged, “They could’ve, or they could’ve kept going. I haven’t heard from anyone in a while.” Frank did his best to not freak out as he used the buzz to push his feet to move with Gerard towards their destination.

[milo-is-rambling]

Hey can we talk about sweat. Cause it’s hot. And people act like it isn’t. But it so is. The things Millie has heard me say about sweaty men having known me for like five years is crazy. Also MORE WOMEN NEED GET MORE SWEATY AROUND ME or maybe I need to look harder for sweaty women. Ha hard for sweaty women. Okay. Anyways. Having a dab on top of almost 30% THC weed was such a ballsy move but I think this is working out in my favor (watch me have a panic attack five minutes after I post this) . Also. there are pictures of Freddie mercury so sweaty that it would turn me back into my 16 year old self instantly I might go google sweaty Freddie mercury okay god what’s wrong with me no it’s normal it’s normla it’s nromal I’m normal wanting to lick him clean is normal scent kink is normla were normla it’s all normal it’s fine I need to not kinkshame myself but also I’m foaming at the mouth bc a man is drenched in sweat I need to be normal I need to suck on him like a damp washcloth oh god googling freddie mercury bad idea why does it always come back to the leather kink when did this happen to me it’s crazy to think about like I feel like I accidentally stumbled into being kinky but there had to be a moment in my life where I looked at someone’s armpit and was like yeah I wanna get my face in there for the first time that’s crazy to me. I think the next kink thing I want to get is a really thin cane like oughhh I can just imagine how much it would sting and it makes my stomach twist I love it wanting to be hurt is so hot to me but I’ve also never trusted anyone to do anything really hard with me (other than one twt mutual who slapped my cheek fairly hard and choked me (with consent obvs)) but like I know my eyes are bigger than my stomach on that one like I know I’ll be a wimp about pain in the beginning but I also know I feel so numb to everything and I have a chronic pain baseline I also feel like I could fucking take a long brutal sesh ya know. Anyways. I don’t know what this post started as but I know it definitely got off track. I’m just gonna throw some Freddie mercury images here. I want to eat him. I say that a lot and I mean it but I don’t think I mean vore I think I just mean I want to shrink him down to the size of a small pill and swallow him so his essence is inside me. Eating him is so primal to me. It is in my blood to say eating him when someone is doing something I love like existing. For example Freddie mercury live aid and leather pants. Eating him. Shrinking him down. Licking him like a sweaty lollipop. Eating him.

[eliletsglow]

Today I shaved my head again.

It's been a couple of weeks since I had the idea of doing it again.

Today I was scrolling on social media and I saw this girl who is super extrovert and she has this magnetic energy

she's gorgeous but she's gorgeous in a hegemonic way, which is not her fault of course.

I instantly compared myself to her. I started to think, what if I were like her, What if I had this magnetic energy

and people would love to see my videos? But I'm not, I'm not like her, my body is different, my personality,

my way to express myself, at least I don't have the confidence to be that extrovert.

I don't consider myself a hegemonic woman.

I have armpit hair because I believe I used to shave them because society told me to.

Now I let them grow, but I still hide them in public.

I don't shave my legs either, and even if I don't hide my legs, I feel like everyone could see me and judge me.

So I closed the app and started to think about the stories I saw before of a girl who was complaining because someone

in the gym told her that she should exercise more if she wanted to lose weight.

And I got this nausea feeling on how we will never, as women, will satisfy this society.

And I don't want my daughter to see that, I don't want to perpetuate the idea that she's not enough only for

existing as a girl.

So I keep my feelings secret.

I'm sitting in front of a mirror and I have the impulse to shave my head, again, anyway, it's been 6 and a half

years with my hair short.

It's easier, and definitely feels good.

I saw all my six months of effort of letting my hair grow laying on the floor.

And I remember, when my hair was long, people used to tell me how lucky I am for having straight hair.

I rather it messy, with volume, and kinda punk.

I started to think of my mother's reaction: what a shame, It looked better before,

then my sisters reinforce her comments: just let it grow

I think in other people's reactions, like: you're crazy, you're bold, you're weird.

Thankfully my partner loves me as I am and he always supports me.

But still.

Then I think, I really am bold, I and really have the courage to say: fuck this

Then I look at myself in the mirror, and I'm not satisfied with what I'm looking at.

Maybe it was a mistake, maybe it was an impulse, which it was, but what I was thinking, do I look better

And for who? For what?

Why do I still have these thoughts that I'm not enough or that I need to look better?

I put some makeup on. I feel better, of course, I'm wearing the society's filter.

Then I put on my new vintage dress, some earrings and rings, and a vintage bracelet.

And I start to feel better, suddenly have the confidence to take that selfie to show that I'm happy with my decision, while I'm thinking

on writing this.

While I'm writing, waiting for the water to boil to make myself some tea, my daughter came and told me: Mommy, you're a champion right?

And everything stops. The world, my thoughts, my inner crisis, everything but my heart, then I smiled and remember that I really am that champion.

And this self-confidence battle won't end but I'm winning. Because even scared, I am able to move forward and do what pleases me. Being able to follow my

intuition.

At the end, that's what really matters.