#but then i did exercise and felt better so

[devonpink]

A Thanksgiving Story

Arrogant, ignorant, and stupid, no three words could better describe my dad. I didn't always see him like that, though. Growing up, we were best buds—I admired and looked up to him as a role model. I truly felt like I could tell him anything, I could trust him. So, you could imagine my shock when after coming out as gay to him, he turned on me. He ignited into a homophobic rage, disowning me as his son. He couldn't stand the sight of me. The unpleasant feeling was mutual and I moved out as quickly as possible.

For almost a decade, there was nothing but radio silence between us. Until one day, I randomly got an email from him, inviting me to a one-on-one Thanksgiving. I read it over and over, completely stunned. As mad and hurt as I still felt, I knew I'd regret not accepting his olive branch. So, I accepted.

A few days later, in the early afternoon of Thanksgiving, I drove over to my dad's place, my childhood home. As nervous as I was, driving up the old driveway and parking in my old spot felt good. As I stepped out of my car, I was reminded of how sweltering it was for November, even for Florida. As much as dressing up sounded fun, wearing a white tank top, dark tan loose shorts, and flip-flops only made sense. My balls would have melted in a pair of underwear, so I freeballed.

My heart was racing, as I flip-flopped to the front door. I was expecting the worst but hoping for the best. I could smell the turkey cooking through the front door as I knocked, its mouth-watering scent calming me slightly. A few seconds later, my dad opened the door. Unsurprisingly, he was exactly as I had left him: bulky beyond belief, obviously my leaving had no effect on his serious workout routine. Then again, maybe he exercised to escape the pain, I know I did that. He was wearing nearly the same thing, the only difference being his loose shorts were black. His pit stains were just as bad as mine—like father, like son, I guess. To my relief, his nervous expression pleasantly told me was just as anxious as I was.

Stepping inside, I got a good whiff of him as I passed him, that oh-so-familiar scent of cologne failing to mask the intense pit reek. The house, like my father's manly stench, was exactly how I'd remembered it, nothing had changed—it was nice. As my dad led me to the kitchen, with his back to me, I gave my hairy sweaty pits a sniff. They reeked, even worse than my dad's. Unlike him, I'd forgotten to put on deodorant or cologne. We both stunk, in slightly different ways, but that similarity was comforting—like father, like son.

I was expecting things to be insanely awkward, but it was like the good old days. We sat out on the porch, drinking beer and shooting the shit as we waited for the turkey to finish cooking on the barbecue. I forgot how much I loved talking with him, for an arrogant douch bag, he sure could make me laugh. Neither of us had brought up my leaving yet, I assume to not break the good flow we had going. In truth, I didn't want to bring it up. It felt good to pretend everything was as it was in the old days.

When the turkey was done, we brought it inside and gobbled it down like too starving beasts. Obviously, our nerves had calmed down quite a bit. Everything was fantastic, I forgot how good of a cook my dad is. We didn't say much to each other while eating, too distracted by our hunger to converse—like father, like son. Before we dove into dessert, he offered me another beer. As much as the pumpkin pie was calling my name, I couldn't decline.

Instead of the usual beer we were drinking, he brought a brand I'd never seen before, "Obedience." I didn't question why he only brought out a single can, I was too distracted by the pumpkin pie to care. I cracked it open and swigged it down, anxious to get to the pie. However, after I finished, I felt funny. I couldn't put my finger on it, but I felt different. I silently stared at my dad, watching an evil grin form across his face.

My dad spoke, dropping his nice-guy demeanor. "Now listen up, boy. It's time we finally get to the point of our happy reunion." My heart was racing, I knew something terrible was about to happen. Flashbacks of before I left flooded my mind. Strangely, as much as I wanted to move, I couldn't. My body was frozen like it was waiting for something. "Take another swig of your beer, down every last drop." What happened next shocked me to my core, my body moved on its own! It was like I was a bystander in my own body, only able to watch. I robotically brought the can up to my mouth and downed every last drop, doing exactly what he commanded. At that moment, I horrifily knew exactly why it was called, "Obedience," and why he only brought out a single can of it.

"Belch, boy. Like a man." My dad arrogantly commanded, knowing I'd helplessly comply.

"bbbbbbBBBBUUUUUUURRRRRRRPPPPPPpppppppppp!!!" Just as he commanded, the biggest manliest belch came out of me. I hated how good it felt to obey him, an obvious effect of the beer.

"Belch again, boy. Except this time, additionally, let out all that stress and worry. Also, uncross your legs and manspread! Sit like a man!" He commanded.

I wanted to resist but was helpless to his commands. "bbbbBBBBBBBuuuUUUUUUrrrPPPPPPPPPpppppp!!!" Like he commanded, all stress and worry had left my body. I then uncrossed my legs and manspreaded, just like my dad. Sitting that way felt so much better.

My dad laughed, like a cocky bastard. "Such a good and obedient son I have." I wanted to get up, scream, anything but just sit there. Except I couldn't move. No matter how hard I tried, I simply couldn't move. "Now, let's get to the good stuff," My dad excitedly proclaimed, unnerving me even more. "Let out all the useless liberalism! Become a rigid conservative, just like dear old dad! Like father, like son! Belch, boy!"

I tried as hard as I could to keep it down, but it was useless. "BBBBBBUUUUURRRRRRRPPPPPPpppppppp!!!! With that, all liberalism and open-mindedness had left me. My mind was assaulted and reprogrammed to believe all sorts of small-minded conservative ideas and beliefs. It was overwhelming, yet electrifying. With conservatism comes stupidity, so my mind had become completely moldable, exactly what he wanted.

"Real men vote red, don't they, boy?" My dad asked, every word dripping with superiority.

"Sir, yes, Sir! Real men Vote-BBBBBBBbbbuuurrrrPPPPPPPPpppp!!!" Before I could finish, another manly burp escaped from me, making my dad bust out laughing. I couldn't help but laugh too, being more stupider now. It felt good to make my dad laugh. I felt like… a good son.

"Now, before we continue, I want to make sure you have no remaining resistance. So, let it all out! Give yourself to me completely! Belch, boy!" My dad commanded.

"BbbbbuuuuuuuUUUUUURRRRPPPPppppppp!" I did as he commanded, like a good son. It felt good, right, to obey him. Why would I want to resist him? He's my dad! He made me, I must obey him!

My dad was grinning like a king, as he should. "Belch again, boy! Belch as loud as you can!"

"BBBBBBBBBBBBUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!" I was more than happy to obey.

"Fuck yeah, son! You sound just like your old man!" My dad enthusiastically congratulated me.

Having him praise me felt good, so fucking good. More, I wanted so much more!

My dad then got serious, obviously, this next one would be important. "Belch, boy, and erase all gayness from yourself. Become the straight man I've always wanted you to be! No man wants a faggot for a son! Blech, boy! Belch and become straight!!!"

"BBBBBBBBBBBBUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!" Like a good son, I obeyed. "BBBBBBBBBBBBUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!" And just like that, all my gayness was gone. I'm now as straight as a freshly bought nail. I like women, only women, like a normal man. Who'd want to be fag, anyway? Fags are sick freaks!! Thank god I'm not one of them anymore. Thank god I'm straight, just like my dad! Like father, like son!

We celebrated my much-needed transformation over two massive slices of pumpkin pie. Afterward, we returned to the porch and smoked cigars, some of his finest. I feel so much better now that I'm following in my dad's footsteps. I want to be exactly like him, in every single way. I want to be completely interchangeable with him. He gave me a matching pair of sunglasses and a red cap, to protect me from the blistering sun. I obviously wore my cap backward to match him. I'm so thankful for my dad. Without him, I'd be lost.

[phneltwrites]

Happier

Written for the music poll challenge. What are 5 sentences really

Wilhelm steps onto the public bus and realises he doesn’t know what to do. It hadn’t really been a conscious decision to get on. Think of Erik’s legacy, Wilhelm and if anyone asks about the hazing at Hillerska say it didn’t happen during your time and Wilhelm waited for his mother to be distracted and then he turned and walked away from the national day celebration. He’s still in the outfit. But he started walking and kept walking and then a bus came and he got on. 

The bus driver stares at him. Wilhelm blinks. Mortification creeping up his collar, he glances at the rest of the riders, who are all staring back. His eyes roam left to right and then freeze, gaze catching on the most beautiful boy in the world. He’s the only one who seems nonplussed, sitting there with a paper book.

Then he gets up.

“You need to pay with the app,” the angel with the curly hair says.

“Okay,” Wilhelm responds, going breathless. Then he fumbles with his phone, unlocks it.

He snorts. “I’ll show you.” He reaches for the phone and their fingers touch. Wilhelm lets him take it, and his fingers curl, reaching for the man’s hand as he pulls it away.

The man fiddles with it, and then taps the phone against the reader. The bus lurches and Wilhelm sways into him.

“I’m—I’m Wilhelm.”

“Simon,” Simon says, eyes sparkling in a way that lets Wilhelm into the joke. Wilhelm follows him back to his seat. There are empty ones on the bus, but Simon obligingly slides over to the window to let Wilhelm in next to him. Wilhelm straightens his embroidered vest as he sits down. “Shouldn’t you be celebrating?”

It’s a fair question. The whole family is out for it, as they are every year.

“I think I could be happier,” Wilhelm says, eyes on Simon, hoping he knows Wilhelm means with him, away from the game of the court, the negotiations. They’re never going to change, but Wilhelm can. He can get on the bus, now. Simon taught him.

“Yeah?” he asks.

“Yeah.” And when Wilhelm stares at him, Simon doesn’t look away.

[foldingfittedsheets]

I’ve been a bit depressed with job hunting, and Wyvern, and imposter syndrome. My betrothed got home and found me just sad sacking. They tried to pep talk me but it’s hard, it’s not like someone can just hand me a job.

They bustled around afterward setting up for DnD. A while later they came up to me and held out their phone. I looked at it in puzzlement. I looked up at them. They smiled and nodded. I took the phone, still confused on what I was meant to do with it when they flicked the button to pull up the Lock Screen.

It’s the new art I just made of their character in her new dragon form. I’ve only had them like my art enough to be their Lock Screen once before. I was so happy I just sat there making their phone light up over and over.

[amalgamationink]

NAPOWRIMO24 #24: Spoken Through Hysterics at the Denver Airport

The line "Here we are with love pouring out of every orifice." comes from Moon Grass Rain by Fady Joudah.

[look-at-the-stars-tonight]

I ran this morning AND wrote some AND made art and I’m so proud of me

[stardustedknuckles]

Most of the way through creating a new dnd character and why are they all boys except my changeling who was everything. I'm not transmasc. I don't want to be a boy necessarily. I am not attracted to dudes. And yet. These are my boys and I care them.

Ramblings about the newest boy under the cut.

He's an Eladrin and I thought about making him nonbinary but when I picture him I see his face and it's his. Now - he's not cis, but it is still very much his face. Conceptually he started out as "how can I make a jedi in 5e" and after about seventeen class combinations and a headache I chatted with the DM and a backstory took shape that informed my class choices. I was originally going to give him a level in wizard (not everything is about optimization and it worked for the initial idea - also! Monk with shield? Killer.) but the synergy very simply was not there. He's about 35, which is quite young for a race that is functionally immortal (within the fey realm anyway). The world we are playing in was broken a long time ago into shards, which function a bit like planes, and the walls between the shards are made of time. When the world broke, my 12-ish year old boy ran with the rest of the people of his home and ended up in a fog, where he walked and walked for hours. When he emerged from the fog, a thousand years had passed and he was alone in a new and fractured world. He was taken in by a couple who used to be adventurers (a rogue and a wizard, lesbians) and raised in the city where they lived for 15-20 years. As far as he knew, his world was gone forever. As far as anyone knew, really. There are rumors of eladrin locked away, sequestered in a safe kingdom ruled by the star-queen, but who and what he is remains a mystery to most.

I think in his culture, Eladrin become adults when they first manifest the magic of the feywild they live in. For most, that happens around age 100, usually in the form of becoming a druid or ranger or some such, and at that point they receive an adult name. My boy is in his mid-thirties or so, but the thing about Eladrin and elves in general is that they move on a time scale slower than we can really conceptualize. My boy was raised by people with shorter lifespans. He grew up around people who move at a much faster pace. So for all these years, since he was about 20, he's been going to the local monks for training to focus his mind. He only needs to trance for four hours, so going for moonlit walks to the monastery several nights a week provides him with clarity and a sense of intent for his body. For the last few years, he's been going out some nights to fight low-level monsters and problems the city faces. Masked, silent, but considered something of a folk hero (your friendly neighborhood Eladrin). That's how he's gained experience. On the anniversary of the day he turned up in this world, the one time a year he permits himself to dive deep into what memories he has and revel and mourn by turns, he's practicing his forms and meditating on his memories of his mother the Wolf of the Wilds (druid) and a punch he throws comes with a lungful of fey spring surrounding him as a blast of dewy morning air rushes from the end of his fist. He hasn't smelled those trees and that damp, early morning light since he was truly a child and it starts to dawn on him that somehow, some way, he has connected with the magic of home just by holding the memory close for all this time and letting it flow through him instead of trying to forget it and move on. Suddenly the rumors of other Eladrin matter. Suddenly the idea that the place he came from could have survived the calamity in some way is lodged in his mind and he can't let it go. If the magic is in him, he thinks, it is still coming from somewhere that must still exist to grant it. He spent so long becoming at peace with the thought of being cut off from it when it was destroyed, but here it is.

He tells his parents he needs to go and they support him entirely. By this point they are too old to make this journey with him, or so they say, but two retired adventurers can sense when it's time for someone to have one of their own. He promises to come back, hugs them both on the doorstep, and sets out to run into the other (extremely magical) chucklefucks the other players are making.

I care him. I can't wait to get to know him better.

[kkujo]

also idk i feel so fucking good abt myself idk genuinely being consistent with my gym routine has done everything for my mental health and confidence like i still feel bad abt myself sometimes but for the first time since i was probably 9 i'm having days where i look in the mirror and thinking DAMN i look good and those days are getting more frequent it's really the best feeling

[a-rats-selfship-blog]

my f/os are soooo good at helping calm down my anxiety like literally they are so perfect for grounding me and helping me feel safe and doing breathing exercises with me i love them so much

[running-in-the-dark]

I just tried rollerskating outside again for the first time since last year and oooof it's so bad, I'm so bad at it, the pain is so bad, everything about it is very very bad

[fingertipsmp3]

Just realised I don’t think I’ve missed teaching even one time since I left. Like, at all. It truly wasn’t the right career for me huh

[nessiemccormick]

happy to see you're still kicking! have a great day

Awww thank you so much?? I read this in the right moment!! Like, this hit straight to my heart because I was reading through some old posts and I could see how depression was consuming me whole, but now I’m better and I’m still alive and kicking! Yeah!!!! And I’m so happy and grateful I am!!

Thank you, Anon!! 💕💕💕

[paranoidblue]

right fellas, let's see if we survive the night

[irisseireth]

.

[midwestgender]

for every sports team in a highschool they should have two. one for the people who are actually good at it on competitive level and then one for people who just want to do it for fun/exercise. i think Fuck Around teams would be immensely popular actually

[your-internet-bf]

We hadn't always gotten along. When our parents got married, we could barely stand each other. How could we get along with some brat we barely knew? Luckily, I had an idea. I bought a clicker - you know, the one they use to train dogs? - and got to work.

I started with "thank you". Every time you said it, maybe at dinner, in the car, at a restaurant, I pressed the clicker. You couldn't tell where the sound was coming from, and nobody else seemed to know what you were talking about. But soon, I started helping you with chores around the house and when we finished, *click*. And without really thinking about it, you'd say "thank you."

A few months passed, and you'd started to notice things about me. I took care of myself. I was clean, and I exercised regularly. You'd hang around when you knew I'd be back from the gym just to catch a whiff of the sweat and metal on me when I returned - our eyes caught once when you got a little too close, and for the first time you saw something primal, a little dark, in my gaze. But it passed in an instant.

We started getting along better, now. So one day, when you were lying on the couch with a snack bowl, I snatched it up and motioned to throw it into your mouth. Well, innocent enough, right? And it wasn't like I was eating much, so it's fine, right? Every time you open your mouth to catch, *click*, *click*, *click*.

Then, I invited you to come work out with me. Every time you did a squat, *click*. I told you it was a metronome to keep your intensity up, but you noticed the bulge in my sweatpants was bigger than usual. Wait, when did you start noticing my bulge, especially enough to know that...?

Finally, it was time. I'd been listening outside your bedroom door for weeks now, and I knew when you'd be asleep. I quietly opened your door and stepped into your room, locking it behind me. You stirred at the sound of the lock clicking, but I wasn't afraid.

I gingerly pulled down the covers and just... stared for a while. I'd never taken the time to really look at how beautiful you are, how gorgeous those curves were. I could hardly stand it. As you lay on your side, I took out the clicker, and *click* it once. Laying on your side, like you were on the couch with the snacks, you obediently open your mouth.

I pull down my pants, my long, thick cock swinging between my thighs. I brush the back of my hand over your cheek, then set it firmly against the back of your head, and push into your mouth.

You wake up almost immediately, but my hand stops you from pulling back as I force inch after throbbing inch down your throat. The more you struggle, the tighter you feel, the harder I push, until you felt your nose press into my hips. You push as hard as you can against me, but I'm so much bigger and stronger than you it doesn't do anything. I don't even budge.

I start to grind into your skull, making you swallow the thick, heavy head of my cock again and again, as I groan in pleasure. I start thrusting harder and harder, making your eyes water as I slam my hips into your face again and again, until finally, mercifully, I release inside you, deep inside your throat. You feel me pulse with your whole mouth, and you struggle to swallow each load of thick, hot, sticky cum while I'm still inside you.

With a shuddering breath, I pull out, letting you breathe properly for the first time in minutes. I watch while you cough and catch your breath, and then I ask, "what do you say?"

You breathe in intending to scream, but then you hear it, just one soft *click*, and all you can say is "thank you".

You stare at me, confused. I wipe my cum off your chin with my thumb, and *click* again. "Thank you", you say.

"I knew it. You're such a good girl, aren't you? Now," I push you onto your back, "spread for me."

*click*

You raise your legs to either side, exactly like you're doing a squat.

"I don't - I don't understand," you whimper, legs still in the air.

"You don't have to," I reply, reaching one hand between your legs to feel how wet you are.

"You're soaking, little girl," as I bring my hand up for you to see... Then make you taste it. I reach back down and slip in two of my thick, strong fingers, and cover your mouth with my other hand as you moan. I press up in just the right spot, rubbing in tight, quick circles so deliciously that you can't help but arch your back and grind into me. You feel the pleasure build and all thought leaves your mind; the only thing that matters is my fingers inside you, the scent of my hand over your mouth, and the lingering taste of me.

But before you can finish I pull my fingers out, pressing up and out, leaving you twitching and gasping. "Not yet," I mutter, and I move myself down between your legs. I line up my cock, slapping it down on your tummy first. It reaches your navel, and you feel a wave of fear that only makes you wetter. I pull back, then start pushing in.

It's thick, thick, thick, and heavy. I stretch you out wider than you thought possible, pressuring you in every direction, spreading your aching cunt and making you feel full inside for the first time in your life. Long, deep strokes, moving your whole body with every thrust, reaching inside you, my breath coming fast and hard.

And you hear it again.

*click*

"Thank you," you choke out between sobs.

*click*

"Thank you," you moan.

*click*

"Thank you," you plead, tears in your eyes.

My strokes come faster now, slamming inside you like an animal as you continue to thank me for raping you. Finally, finally, finally, you feel me tense up and slam deep, deep, deep inside you, pressing your whole body into the bed, as I cum again. Huge, hot, sticky white loads of my cum shoot inside you, filling you, as my breath comes in gasps, and as I do you feel it too, now, the wave of pleasure cresting, and you cum, your legs squeezing together, your face screwed tight, moaning with the release of months of tension. And as you cum, you hear a new sound, a familiar sound, but it's deeper than the others...

*click*

And you cum harder, knowing I'm training you like a bitch in heat.

I climb up next to you, and just gaze into your eyes for a moment. Then I smile. "Let's go again."

*click*

[klara-rosa]

anyway therapy was good today! I was very frustrated after last week's session. It was super uncomfortable and I wanted to cry afterwards (I have literally only cried twice during my entire therapy career). I actually told my current therapist that last week sucked and made me angry and we talked about it and she told me she really wants me to tell her this information in the future. And in general, today was a looot better and more positive and uplifting. We did an exercise in gratefulness and it really helped to kinda flip the coin and make you look at your life from a dofferent angle. I have sooo many negative self-beliefs and rituals I've accumulated over the years and sometimes I forget that a huuuge part of every one of my days is literally dependant on my own attitude and outlook on life in general. So I'll try and incorporate that exercise in my day to day life. Honestly, I left with such a lighter heart today than I did the last couple of weeks and that makes me happy 🥺