#hope y'all know what I'm trying to say here

[genderqueerdykes]

We're appreciating these pro-endo posts as an endogenic, especially the fact you account for traumatized endogenics (we at least notice "usually" and other such words in a lot of posts, and were taught at a young age how to analyze shit because of being autistic) so like...thanks. :)

Hopefully y'all are okay, anti-endos are really showing their asses this time in your asks. And we hope everyone else realizes they have always been that bigoted.

hey of course, thanks for sending this ask!

yeah i don't know why people don't understand that endogenic systems can... also have trauma. like. endogenic doesn't mean 100% free from trauma. anyone can have trauma. trauma doesn't always manifest in the most extreme forms possible like dissociative disorders. like i cannot stress enough that dissociative disorders are a very specific kind of plurality, and should NOT be used as a metric to gauge whether or not someone's plural experience is legitimate or not. the diagnostic criteria for dissociative disorders is so painfully restrictive that a lot of people who probably do have a dissociative disorder don't get the diagnosis because it's so fucking specific

and again, i just want to stress that endogenic systems literally are not hurting anyone. you are not spitting in my face or talking over me as a system with DID. you are being respectful by using a term that suits your experience way better. like idk how that is offensive to people. endogenic systems developed a term to express a specific type of plurality. that's not trying to mock or ape on dissociative plurality. it's not an attempt to talk over dissociatives. it's creating an entirely new conversation that needs to be had

people getting upset about endogenic systems are creating mountains out of mole hills. it is quite literally a nothing burger of a problem. there IS no problem. nothing wrong is even happening. like i cannot overstate how fucking annoying it is when other dissociatives decide its time to get on their high horses and act as if they're suddenly experts on psychology and mental health. like it really pisses me off when other plurals with dissociative disorders decide the entire plural community is about them. the dissociative disorder communities are about plurals with dissociative disorders. specifically. you can still occupy spaces made for people with DID, OSDD and so on and leave endogenics alone and the world will keep turning. the sun will rise tomorrow regardless.

learn to mind your own goddamn business if you can't respect that other people experience the world differently than you do. maybe, just maybe, the dissociatives who are intentionally going out of their way to mock and harass endogenic systems are the fucking problem, here. you don't get to be a fucking bully just because you have trauma. you don't get to attack and hurt people who haven't hurt you just because you were abused. that's literally fucking perpetuating the cycle of abuse. if you think to yourself that because you are traumatized, that it's okay to take your anger out on people who have no trauma, you seriously need to reassess your life. what does that do for you? temporary catharsis? a rush of dopamine that lasts mere seconds? chasing the high of harassing strangers will not undo what was done to you in the past.

as a dissociative- i only understand what dissociative plurality is like. i do not understand other forms of plurality. and you know what? i don't find the fact that other types of plurality existing offensive to me. it's just not. i've been very close friends with so many endogenic, spiritual, natural, etc. systems out there over the years. i have never found it offensive for anyone to say "oh hey i'm plural too!" and then explain a different plural experience than the one i have. thats why the term plural even exists, because it encompasses a broad range of plural experiences, not just dissociative ones.

like, to the dissociatives who are pissed off that endos exist: literally stay in dissociative disorder-centric spaces and tags. they're right there. you HAVE a community that you can interact with who understand exactly what you're going through. if it offends you that you find a VARIETY of plural experiences in the general plural community- that community isn't for you. like seriously. if it offends you that deeply that other types of plurality exist- the general plural community is not for you. it's literally not made for you if you can't except that numerous types of plurality exist. you have spaces you can occupy that ARE made 100% for people just like you. you can quite literally stay in spaces made for dissociative plurals only. like. you can do that. that's an option. and you can stop bullying other people out of spaces that they rightfully belong in.

trauma is never excuse to be a fucking jackass. it's perpetuating the cycle of abuse. that's nothing to be proud of. break the cycle. stop abusing people just because you were abused.

[acknowledge-reigns]

Baddie and The Beast | Jacob Fatu x Black!Fem OC | 18+!

Description: Jacob attempts to make things right with Myra

Chapter: 2/6

Face Claim: Flo Milli

Warnings: Mention of drinking, strong language, mention of one night stand.

This is the Jacob x Myra sequel to Swipe Right, Rivals With Benefits and Kiss It Better. As always my stories are NOT about real people and does not reflect their character. This is very much an 18+ BDSM based romance with some comedy thrown in there. If kink content isn't for you, specifically Primal Kink (google if need be) for this one, please scroll. You have been warned.

Word count: 1,206

My masterlist can be found here

Taglist: @lov3rla03 @adoreesun @Isabella-2025 @skyesthebomb @acute-crashout-jeyuso @raya-hunter01

Jacob was lifting weights in the gym, trying to distract himself from his failed attempt to ask Myra out the previous day. He had been thinking about her all night, wondering what he had done wrong.

As he was finishing his set, Zilla approached him. "Hey, we need to talk," Zilla said, a serious expression on his face.

Jacob set down the weights and wiped the sweat from his brow. "What's up, Uce?" he asked, sensing that Zilla had something important to say.

Zilla leaned against the weight rack, his arms crossed. "It's about Myra." he said, his voice low.

Jacob's heart skipped a beat at the mention of Myra's name. "What about her?" he asked, trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably.

Zilla shook his head, seeing right through Jacob's act. "You know damn well what I'm talking about," he said. "Last summer, you hooked up with her, and then you ghosted her."

Jacob furrowed his brow, confusion written all over his face. "I did what?" he asked, genuinely puzzled. "Nah, I ain't meet her til you and LeLe moved into y'all new spot yesterday."

Zilla raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by Jacob's response. "Man, Uce, you really don't remember hooking up with her last summer?" he asked incredulously.

Jacob shook his head, a look of disbelief on his face. "No, I swear I don't. Are you sure it was me?" he asked, trying to wrap his head around the situation.

Zilla sighed, "That's why she rejected you. She was still hurt from you ghosting her."

Jacob groaned, "Damn it, I can't believe I did that to her," he muttered. "I didn't even remember." He pauses and thinks for a moment, "Shit! She was the girl from the hotel bar."

Zilla nodded, "Yup, that's the one." He watched as realization dawned on Jacob's face.

"I'm such an idiot," Jacob muttered, burying his face in his hands. "How could I have forgotten something like that?"

"You guys kept drinking after you hooked up, you were fucking blitzed, uce." Zilla said.

Jacob groaned again, "Great, just great. No wonder she hates me."

Zilla patted him on the back, "Yeah, well, now you know. How you gonna fix it?" he asked inwardly chuckling at himself at the fact that just last year Roman, Jey and Jimmy were saying roughly the same thing to him in regards to his relationship with Kiley.

Jacob looked up at Zilla, determination in his eyes. "I don't know, but I'm gonna try," he said firmly. "I can't let her hate me. I have to make things right."

Jacob continued, "The next morning, I was in such a rush to check out of the hotel that I didn't even realize I left my phone behind, which had her number in it. After that I just..Forgot."

Zilla shook his head, "Damn, That's a messed up situation."

Jacob nodded, "I know, I know. I should have been more careful. But I swear, I didn't mean to ghost her."

"I'ma figure this shit out." Jacob said, a mix of hope and anxiety in his voice.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴

A few hours later, Kiley and Myra were in Kiley and Zilla's living room, planning the fundraiser for the free clinic they volunteered at. Myra was looking over the guest list, making sure everything was in order, when Kiley pulled out a stack of autographed photos.

Myra raised an eyebrow, "What's that?" she asked, looking at the photos in Kiley's hand.

Kiley grinned, "Autographs from Roman and Jey. I managed to get them to sign some for the fundraiser." She said, but pauses for a moment her brows furrowed in confusion. "What..?"

"I think this stack is for you.." Kiley said handing a few of the photos over to Myra who instantly realized they weren't autographed by Roman or Jey, they were autographed by Jacob with a little sticky note attached. 'I'm sorry i ghosted you. I'll make it up to you however I can. Much love, Samoan Werewolf Jacob Fatu.' Along with his phone number.

Myra's eyes widened as she read the note and saw the photos. Her heart started racing as she looked up at Kiley. "oh.."

Kiley couldn't help but chuckle at the look on Myra's face. "Looks like he wants to make amends," she said, gesturing to the autographs.

Myra was speechless, her mind racing as she stared at the autographs in her hand. She couldn't believe Jacob had actually done something like this.

Kiley could sense her friend's conflicted emotions. "What are you gonna do?" she asked, a hint of concern in her voice.

Myra sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I don't know," she admitted. "Part of me wants to just forget about him, but another part of me is intrigued by this."

She looked down at the autographs again, reading the note once more. "I don't know if I can forgive him that easily."

Kiley placed a comforting hand on Myra's shoulder. "I get it, you've been hurt before. But don't let that stop you from giving him a chance to explain himself."

She paused for a moment before adding, "And who knows, maybe he really is sorry."

Myra took a deep breath, contemplating Kiley's words. "I suppose I could at least.. hold onto the phone number."

Kiley nodded, "That's a start. Take some time to think about it, don't rush into anything. But just know, sometimes forgiveness is worth it."

Myra smiled weakly at Kiley. "Thanks, I'll think about it." She said, tucking the note into her bag.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴

The clinic was in desperate need of supplies and funds, and while a generous and substantial donation from Roman and Iris had went a long way towards helping them out, they still needed more.

The event was held in a large hall, decorated with banners and balloons. There were tables set up with food and drinks, as well as a silent auction where guests could bid on items donated by local businesses as well as the autographs provided by the bloodline.

Roman and Iris arrived at the fundraiser together, both dressed impeccably of course, along with Jey and Jax. Kiley hugged her sisters and thanked them.

Sometimes Myra envied all of her best friend's familial support. Myra had her mom of course but she had went off the deep end since her dad had passed and they had gone no contact in recent years.

Roman looked around the room, taking in the scene. "This place looks great," he said, impressed by the decorations and effort put into the event.

"I'm about to go hit up the snack table." Jey announced.

Myra was helping to oversee the event when her eyes drifted across the room and landed on Jacob. He was standing off to the side, sipping a drink and talking to someone. He looked good, as usual, in a black suit. Dayum he cleans up well..

Myra quickly averted her gaze, not wanting to be caught staring. She tried to focus on her tasks at hand, but her mind kept wandering back to Jacob. The memory of their night together flashed through her mind, and she felt a mix of emotions welling up inside her.

Y'know what? maybe she will call him after this.

Previous Chapter ●◉◎◈◎◉● Next Chapter

[auroracalisto]

day #22: "i'll be home for christmas"

tangerine x gn!reader, 1k words a/n: i mention that you like cheese ball and when i say that, i mean this thing (this thing also says msg but i think the recipe we use has something else... idk). i hope it's not just a southern west virginia thing. it's my favorite thing at holidays. i know it looks freaky and child me used to REFUSE but these and tollhouse butter crackers... cheese ball hates to see me comin', y'all. also, did you know that "i'll be home for christmas" was initially written in regards to soldiers overseas who wouldn't be home to celebrate christmas with their loved ones? crazyy.

I'll be home for Christmas You can plan on me Please have snow and mistletoe And presents on the tree Christmas Eve'll find me Where the love light gleams I'll be home for Christmas If only in my dreams

Before you, he never truly cared for Christmas, or any holiday for that matter. It just didn't strike him as anything special. But then he met you, and it was like something within him changed. You seemed so... excited for simple things like gifts and merry-making, and by God, he'd make sure he'd make you the happiest person in the world if he could help it.

But work was work. He couldn't just avoid it, and he especially couldn't turn down suck an incredible paycheck. Hell, this job may have been difficult, but who the hell would've thought it would have lasted this long?

Typically, his jobs lasted a few days. Maybe a week or two, tops. This one was going on three weeks, and nearing Christmas. It was as if whoever this damned man had wanted him to miss Christmas—wanted him to miss the morning lying in bed with you, kissing you, making you feel like you were the only person in the world.

He didn't often hate his job, but right now? He wished he would have some cozy office job where he'd be home no matter what. Every holiday, he'd be by your side, decorating and drinking and participating in whatever merry making you wanted. Damn, he'd even try baking cookies and creating that weird cheese ball thing you'd mentioned from your childhood. It looked more like a thing that could grow legs and walk away, but he'd give anything just to be home with you. To be with you instead of sitting here growing restless with his brother grumbling on about how he wished he was home as well—not that he could blame him.

Tangerine patted his thigh with his hand and reached for his phone. He dialed your number, a frown on his lips. He sat on the edge of his hotel bed, knowing that he wouldn't be home. There'd be no way, regardless of how much he wanted to be. But he'd lie. A little white lie never hurt anyone, right?

"Hey, love," he said as soon as the receiver picked up.

"Hi, Tan," he heard your voice come through.

He smiled a bit to himself. "You, uh, doin' alright?" he asked. "Takin' care of yourself, yeah?"

Lemon glanced over at him, raising a curious eyebrow. Tangerine just waved him off with a pursed lip."

"Yeah," you said. "Tan, how's the job coming? Are you almost done?"

Your voice is soft on the receiver—must be poor service from his end.

"I miss you."

The words strike him silent for a moment. He sighed softly and closed his eyes. "Yeah, I know you do, love," he said. "I'm sorry. I'll be home soon, I promise."

"How soon?" you asked.

"I'm aimin' for Christmas Eve," he said, a small smile playing on his lips. He could hear Lemon protesting the little lie, but Tangerine simply waved him off and then proceeded to flip him off.

"Christmas Eve. You don't sound too sure," you replied.

He breathed through his nose and closed his eyes. Why were you always so good at seeing through his words? It was almost like you were a psychic. Either that or Lemon was fucking texting you that he was lying.

Tangerine cursed at his brother, throwing one of the hard hotel pillows at his face. It hit him and Lemon let out a shout in protest.

"Tangerine," you said, his code name drawing his attention back to the phone.

"Right. Sorry, love. I, uh, it's not lookin' too good, sweetheart. I'm going to try and make it back as soon as I can, but I can't make any promises right now."

"Really?" you sadly said.

"Yeah, really," he said. "You know, maybe I can dream about being home for the holidays."

You scoffed softly. "What, like the Bing Crosby song?"

"What song?" he asked.

"Um," you paused. "'I'll Be Home for Christmas.'"

"Bing Crosby?"

"The singer, you dipshit," Lemon quipped from his side of the hotel room.

Tangerine rolled his eyes. "How's it go, love? Remind me."

"I'm not singing it to you," you said, "but I'll send it to you."

He snorted softly. "Yeah, you do that," he said.

Tangerine glanced toward the clock on the wall—it was nearly two in the morning. He sighed softly. He knew you were a couple hours behind him, so he wasn't keeping you awake, but he knew you still needed to go. You had a life beyond him (or at least, he hoped you did—jokes, jokes).

"Look, love, if things change, I'll be the first to message you," he said.

You sighed softly on the phone. "Do that," you said. "I miss you, Tan."

"I miss you more, love. Honest."

"I know," you said. "Just... be safe. Come home soon. We can always celebrate when you get back."

His brows furrowed. "How would we celebrate Christmas after the holiday?"

You snorted softly. "I don't think Christmas is just a day," you said. "I feel like as long as you have the people you want to celebrate with, it can be a holiday. The number doesn't truly matter."

He hummed softly at your words. "Want to invite Lemon?"

"If you want Lemon, sure."

He grinned. "Sounds like a plan, love. I'll save a day of Christmas just for you, though."

You scoffed over the phone, but he just knew you were smiling.

"I love you," Tangerine softly said. He knew Lemon heard it, and he'd say something later, but all he wanted was for you to say it back.

Perhaps it was his only wish of the night as he heard the words "I love you" over the phone, and a wish for him to have a good night.

When you hung up, he dropped his phone and looked toward Lemon.

"If we don't finish this fuckin' job in the next two days, someone is gonna bloody die, and it isn't me."

Lemon rolled his eyes. "Stop bein' so fuckin' dramatic. We'll finish the job and you can be back home playing house with your little beau."

Tangerine grumbled under his breath and laid back in his hotel bed, looking up at the popcorn ceiling.

"Damn. Remind me in the future to take all of December off."

Lemon raised an eyebrow. "You plan on taking all of December off just for a holiday?"

"Nah, mate, not just a holiday. For them."

[creachiergh]

anyways. WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT.

[crossbackpoke-check]

tagged by ko @tofumilanesa for wip wednesday! big shout out to writevember for making me feel like i can actually call any of these works in progress… your guide to my emoji code under the cut

wip!

🪻🐈‍⬛ - the doc title is still just. YOWLING but i am like 7/8 of the way done with omega yamo fic and hopefully salem isn’t reading this so i can just drop it over a year later with no warning <3

🫃2️⃣ - DEWEY^2 P2!!!! she is almost done (i am lying) but she is so close i can almost taste it. sorry to my pwp that grew its own feelings baby

😇🤭 (🕒 -> 🕜) - rip i’m not telling you about this one until it’s posted but it IS complete aside from being ao3 formatted and the eight billion edits i inevitably do right before full-sending it

☁️💧 - cloud petey fic, which exists mostly as an embarrassingly large tag on a different blog and is condensing into a narrative about as well as water at 30° N/S. the time loop fic also falls under this description

eternally in progress (short list)

🌑🐕 - tyler borzoituzzi exists… there is an index of scenes/plot points… it plays like a movie in my head…

💯❕- fantastic! ‘verse

👁️👻 - stevie brandon seeing ghosts au, which has eight different (now nine i guess but you haven't seen the mustache adam post yet) plots. sorry

just. rotating like a microwave

🍎 - because they didn’t have a pomegranate emoji, this is what i used for the fic that feels like it should be a 50k connor bedard character study hanif abdurraqib/cathal kelly thesis about legends and mythmaking in sports and eating your young. yes i know pomegranates aren’t actually pomes and apples are but it’s fine

🦈 - the one cat da fuck they doing over there meme but about the sharks just like. in general. more on this at five

tagging @colap1nto, @songsandswords, @whitenikes, @gordiemeow, @acheronist, and anybody else who wants to share!!

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

I really hate the inconsistencies that exist just to make SB (and CF technically) work, but also how hard Petra basically simps for Edelgard to the point it deconstructs aspects of her character.

In Houses she mentions her siblings being in danger if she died, but in SB she just doesn't even make any mention of them in this situation. She's just willing to possibly die all of a sudden for someone who never actually treated Brigid like its people were independent (which she could've done at literally any time from the moment she became emperor). She was relatively vocally I guess you could say "good" to Petra, but the way the writing handles Petra's response to all of it feels like Petra's just been brainwashed.

Petra says she would always choose survival and makes a point to emphasis that, but in SB she's completely and carelessly willing to risk her life and possibly throw it away... for Edelgard? Who still has not actually officially freed Brigid? And if Petra were to stop being Edelgard's ally?

"Reconsideration". Because Brigid was never freed and now they're not going to be as long as Edelgard is in charge, because their queen is no longer bending to her will and fighting for her. If she was ever truly planning to free Brigid, Petra's decision alone not to fight for her shouldn't have changed that fact (especially since she supposedly gives her the choice in Houses to fight for her or not, and on non CF routes she does this by sending a letter, to which Petra refuses).

It should, of course, be obvious with this that everything is very not hunky dory between Adrestia and Brigid, but then...

...eh wot hooligans???

I mean sure, if you considered forced vassalage to be "peace" and not being a free people "peace" then sure. But like... it's not a peace her people want and she should know that, but the game tends to do this back and forth with this topic. I hate it though because it makes it come across as being forced into submission and not having the means to fight back is "peace".

I know this game has lots of issues with uh, if you're attacked or if you were defeated by another military force you should submit and be happy about being taken over, and when you can't fight back anymore that's "peace" because nobody's fighting... but uhh... why is that only an issue with the Empire? I mean, we know why - the devs wanted to walk with her and they admitted it! But like... they should still know when they're writing something reeeeally icky.

Duscur doesn't have this problem and they're not under Edelgard's foot. Anything under Edelgard's foot though is treated like they should be thankful for her control and/or invasion(s). That just overall sends a really nasty message. I don't know that the devs meant to do that as far as an Empire, but I do think it's because they went a little hard with the Edelgard bias and somehow forgot what it would look like to an audience playing the game.

It's like they know it's not a good thing but they keep pushing the "Brigid isn't actually free but it's still peace because nobody is fighting" narrative.

Like... I don't care how much you love a character you're writing. You can't tell me that oppressed nations would just call oppressions "peace" or that their leaders would be more than happy to fight and die for the leader of the nation oppressing them. It gets even worse when you get into the racial territory of it, but that's a topic I've already covered so I'm not gonna go over it again here.

[mad-hunts]

tw: cannibalism, (slightly) graphic depictions of violence and HEAVY elements of horror will be ahead, so i'm going to put this under a 'read-more' if you'd rather skip out on this one.

so they looked around for a bit, and that's when they found it. this blood trail going down the floor of the hallway, which was already kind of scary, though it was nothing compared to the sound of someone's ringtone suddenly resounding from one of the rooms in the back (think one of those love songs with sort of creepy vibes to them like ' unchained melody. ') so, once your muse gathered enough courage, they decided to proceed down it even though something inside of them was screaming that something seemed wrong. and it seemed like they were right because once they reached the back, they found a dead body just... pressed up against the wall with blood spattered behind them. and there were other spots of the wall spattered with blood as well.

i feel like, for a character that's supposed to be pretty horror-oriented, that this account has been kind of lacking in content related to that lately, SO imagine this scenario, y'all. your muse is friends with or just cares about barton in some way. and thus, whenever they find out that he's attracted the ire of someone dangerous + that he's been missing for WEEKS, they assume the worst and try to find out his location. which leads them to this already creepy, dilapidated, and abandoned mortuary. and they honestly didn't know what they were expecting once they entered it, but it certainly wasn't this deafening silence, and there seeming to be... no one around?

so, you try to circle around to find out what the hell is going on, but then you see the thing that barton is hunched over is a body and a third one on the autopsy table in the room. and your muse can't help but blanche + feel like they've just stumbled into the lions den, because barton is not only SO beat up, but he's eating the person below him. and it's absolutely horrific because whenever they gasp at the sight is when barton finally looks up at them.

it was ALL over this corpses' face, though, as it appeared like they died from some sort of brutal blunt force trauma. but there's also another blood trail that is smeared across the floor up and under one of the doors in the back, which they are REALLY questioning whether they want to open now. they choose to do so with their eyes closed after remembering that barton would do the same for them (and by that, i mean he would want to save them JSJSJ), and all they can see when they open them is the back of barton hunched over something, or someone as you discover while getting closer to him. and it's like he is either ignoring you or hasn't heard you enter the room because he's still focused on whatever he was doing.

and there is just NOTHING behind those eyes even though he's got a copious amount of blood dripping down from his lips and dripping down his chin + neck. like JSJSJ i don't know about you guys, but i would be sooo scared because not only is this NOT normal behavior for him at all, it's god damn terrifying to see someone cannibalize you someone else. and so if he were real, along with me being in this situation, i probably wouldn't talk to him for a while because i wouldn't even know where to begin AHHH

[mittensmorgul]

finally home from njcon (well i've been here for an hour or so) and need to find all the videos of jensen singing whipping post...

also hugebiglarge stack of incredible scripthunt things to share, but will do so when i have fully recovered :'D

[taegularities]

hope you're all liking the epilogue and that you enjoyed the whole series in general. thank you for giving it so much love and support. can't wait to share more 🤍

[bittybeanie]

brain,,,, p l esase,,,, work with m e,,,,

[kuromi-hoemie]

fwiw cohost.org doesn't rly use an algorithm, is worker-owned with good ethics, has a chronological timeline and also allows nudity/nsfw content unambiguously 👍 they draw their inspo from a few other socmed sites but i see enough elements that tumblr has to feel like I'm rly gonna like it there once my account's been fully activated.

i don't think it's large scale, but it could be :3 would also like tumblr to see they're bleeding users and that good alternatives DO exist actually.

cohost has a 1-2 day activation period before u can actually start posting but ur still free to like and follow in the meantime.

An open letter to @staff

I already submitted this to Support under "Feedback," but I'm sharing it here too as I don't expect it to get a response, and I feel like putting in out in public may be more effective than sending it off into the void.

The recent post on the Staff blog about changing tumblr to an algorithmic feed features a large amount of misinformation that I feel staff needs to address, openly and honestly, with information on where this data was sourced at the very least.

Claim 1: Algorithms help small creators.

This is false, as algorithms are designed to push content that gets engagement in order to get it more engagement, thereby assuring that the popular remain popular and the small remain small except in instances of extreme luck.

This can already be seen on the tumblr radar, which is a combination of staff picks (usually the same half-dozen fandoms or niche special interests like Lego photography) which already have a ton of engagement, or posts that are getting enough engagement to hit the radar organically. Tumblr has an algorithm that runs like every other socmed algorithm on the planet, and it will decimate the reach of small creators just like every other platform before it.

Claim 2: Only a small portion of users utilize the chronological feed.

You can find a poll by user @darkwood-sleddog here that at the time of writing this, sits at over 40 THOUSAND responses showing that over 96 percent of them use the chronological feed. Claiming otherwise isn't just a misstatement, it's a lie. You are lying to your core userbase and expecting them to accept it as fact. It's not just unethical, it's insulting to people who have been supporting your platform for over a decade.

Claim 3: Tumblr is not easy to use.

This is also 100% false and you ABSOLUTELY know it. Tumblr is EXTREMELY easy to use, the issue is that the documentation, the explanations of features, and often even the stability of the service is subpar. All of this would be very easy for staff to fix, if they would invest in the creation of walkthroughs and clear explanations of how various site features work, as well as finally fixing the search function. Your inability to explain how your service works should not result in completely ignoring the needs and wants of your core long-term userbase. The fact that you're more willing to invest in the very systems that have made every other form of social media so horrifically toxic than in trying to make it easier for people to use the service AS IT WORKS NOW and fixing the parts that don't work as well speaks volumes toward what tumblr staff actually cares about.

You will not get a paycheck if your platform becomes defunct, and the thing that makes it special right now is that it is the ONLY large-scale socmed platform on THE ENTIRE INTERNET with a true chronological feed and no aggressive algorithmic content serving. The recent post from staff indicates that you are going to kill that, and are insisting that it's what we want. It is not. I'd hazard to guess that most of the dev team knows it isn't what we want, but I assume the money people don't care. The user base isn't relevant, just how much money they can bring in.

The CEO stated he wanted this to remain as sort of the last bastion of the Old Internet, and yet here we are, watching you declare you intend to burn it to the ground.

You can do so much better than this.

Response to the Update

Under the cut for readability, because everything said above still applies.

I already said this in a reblog on the post itself, but I'm adding it to this one for easy access: people read it that way because that's what you said.

Staff considers the main feed as it exists to be "outdated," to the point that you literally used that word to describe it, and the main goals expressed in this announcement is to figure out what makes "high-quality content" and serve that to users moving forward.

People read it that way because that is what you said.

[lovelettered]

can i be hypocritical for a second

[brick-van-dyke]

// personal, uuuh kind of a vent but idk? Maybe more of just a general ask to the void of whoever happens to read it; How Does Friendship-ing Work? And the whole Is This Normal Or Just A Me Thing with this social thing that could be normal or may be not normal.

I know it's relatively normal for people to just grow apart or for friendships to break away based on one drama or another, but I've noticed recently that it's just... Really common for people I've met to eventually have some issue either someone else and for groups I'm in to break apart really easily, even like regardless of me being there or not I mean. It's happened quite a lot and I wonder if it's just me, "people these days" as in just how friends are in modern society with internet and all the expectations from it, or if it's actually normal?

Does anyone else have experience with that? As in, a reoccurring thing where people in friend groups you are in have some sort of drama between a few people which leads to everyone never talking again or falling out regardless of whether or not you're involved or even knew of said drama?

For example, I had this group of friends I talked to a lot online (we were a part of a larger group) and we ended up becoming really close but eventually people in that group had their own issues with each other and everyone stopped socialising because things got awkward for those who weren't involved. Like, this exact this I've found is weirdly common for me, a lot of friend groups I've been in have had this happen to some degree and idk how to approach it? It probably doesn't help that I'm really bad at social stuff and knowing when I'm oversharing or being too quiet or saying stuff that's socially inappropriate (like saying or asking stuff that is insensitive but you don't realise until after you've said it that it was pushy or too much), or understanding when people want you to shut up or when they want you to step in or anything in between. Basically, I'm just lost on all this and still trying to understand if this is A Normal Social Thing That Happens to Groups of People A Bunch, or if it's a unique issue or... Idk.

Basically! I don't really know how to address this happening yet again or who in said friend group I should even speak to if at all? Like do you just leave it and wait for people to short out their own stuff, or would that be considered you being a bad and neglectful friend?? Would involving yourself make you nosy? Or would it be seen as you being caring? Would backing off being the better option? Would talking to certain people make others thing you're betraying them and picking sides??? I literally can never tell what thing is the Right Social Thing™ to do so I just kinda either sit there and wait, trying not to make anything worse, or ask around and see if at least showing that I genuinely mean well and care helps at all (sometimes it helps, sometimes it doesn't and makes stuff worse, but so does the former sometimes). Also. I do have this thing where I speak without thinking and make things worse before I get to that part which probably makes this even harder because people probably are already feeling horrible from whatever stuff happened between them and when you know nothing at all, you don't know how tf to act. Or what to say or do or anything at all really.

For now, I'm gonna keep writing my stories, reading my books and doing my best but damn. Is there some sort of?? idk?? A way to avoid this stuff or is it normal or what?? Again, idk.

[a-b-riddle]

Part Six

Can't stop thinking about reader finally giving the boys a taste of their own medicine. And hurting my own feelings in the process of it all. I wanted to make this a baddie reader chapter, but its just a saddie reader chapter. I played Down Bad by T.S on repeat while writing this. Y'all need to thank @blueladys-world for being my ventor for this part.

None of them came the next day to pick up the box of everything you had collected. By everything, quite literally everything. Birthday cards and gifts. Keepsakes from your time together they had given you. Even going as far as returning lingerie they had given you. You didn't want any trace of them in your home anymore. You were gonna have to work hard in rebuilding it to be your safe space once again.

You were surprised that someone from the expo had DM'd you. Renée was an author who had tried to stop by to your stand, but got too caught up in the day. She was in London, working on her next series installment and wanted to pick your brain. Writer to writer.

The two of you agreed on a time. She had mentioned wanting to try this restaurant the last time she visited and you already knew you would be putting that meal on a credit card. It was a bit of splurge, but after the past week you deserved it. You could even wear that sexy black number that had been collecting dust in your closet.

By the time you were done getting ready and squeezing into your dress, you looked more ready for a date than dinner with a colleague.

A colleague. You had a colleague!!!

The knock on the door pulled you from your girlish glee. You didn't need to guess who it was. Your friends knew to text you before they came over and Renée had agreed just to meet you at the restaurant.

It was one of them.

You didn't even t bother looking through your peephole before you opened the door to find Johnny standing there with a floral arrangement of your favorite flowers.

Johnny began to speak, afraid you were going to shut him down immediately no less. But no words came out. His eyes traveled up and down your body, taking you in.

A vision.

You wanted to snap at him that your eyes weren't located on your hips. But damn if it didn’t feel empowering seeing Johnny’s gaze gloss over.

"Fuck me." He swore, gathering his bearings before realizing you were dressed. In a sexy black dress and heels and makeup and oh, fuck you were going out. "Where are you going?"

"First off, none of your business," you said holding a finger up. "And secondly, what are you doing here?"

"Listen," "Bon-"

"The box is right there." You said pointing to a large cardboard box on the floor. "That's everything."

"If you just let me make it-"

"Up to me?" You cut him off again. "I'm over it. Really."

"Just give me a chance."

"Either you haven't spoken to the other two to know I am well and truly done with this situationship, or you’re hoping some half-ass apology and flowers will let you get a last fuck in and the skedaddle. So hopefully if it was latter, hopefully the former answered that for ya.”

So if that's all you came here for, I've got to get going. My reservation is at seven and it's rude to keep a friend waiting."

"It's been a week and you're already going on a date?" He accused.

"Who said anything about a date?" You didn't outright say it wasn't. Where would be the fun in that? “It's just dinner with a colleague.” You didn’t want to lie. It wasn’t a date. But you didn’t need to say it was a woman. “Hardly a date.”

“Look at the sight of ye!" He said, taking the opportunity to take a quick look at how deliciously your ass filled that dress. “A fookin’ dinner with a colleague. Like one of us would show up to a briefing like that.” You opened your compact. Not needed in the age of cellphones but loving the feminine touch.

There was something so... seductive about using a compact mirror to apply your lipstick.

“Kyle does have the legs for this dress.” You said, applying that lipstick he loves. That same shade that looked beautiful on your lips. The same lipstick you would mark all over Johnny’s body. “Believe what you want. Not my problem anymore.”

You put your compact back in your purse along with the lipstick in case you needed to reapply it after dinner.

Johnny's eyes zeroed in on your lips before his eyes met yours. That's when you felt it again. That undeniably spark of chemistry that you had with him. With all of them. That feeling that sucked the very breath from your lungs and for a moment all you could see was the man in front of you.

"Bonnie," he said placing his hands on your neck. His thumbs stroking your cheeks softly. "Just one more chance." He begged, his voice breaking. "I'm a fucking git, but I won't let you go again. I won't leave." You knew that when it came to promises, Johnny had proven that even if he didn't mean to break them, he had forgotten he made them in the first place.

But in that moment you didn't care. Even after everything, Meredith was right. You had loved them. Everything else had ended so shitty. John had blamed you. Kyle had only shown up until it was too late. And Simon. The last time you would ever hear his voice was after he said such cruel things to you.

No.

If you were done with Johnny, you won't let the last time he fucked you being a quick, rough fuck doggystyle before leaving you naked and alone in your bed.

No. The last time with Johnny needed to be good. It might make it harder to finally leave, but you needed this. You needed to know that he could still make love to you and not just fuck you like an animal in heat.

"Johnny?" You asked. Your mouth dangerously close to his. "I don't want you to fuck me."

"I don't have to," he said, starting to take a step back to give you some space before your hands reached his. Holding him in place.

He can't let you go. You couldn't let him go. Not yet. Just one more. You needed just one more time to get him out of your system. The closure you needed.

"Make love to me." You begged, your eyes pleading. "I need to know that I wasn't just something you wanted to fuck." You don't move as his eyes search yours, looking for reassurance. When you nod, his mouth softly touches your own.

His hands travel along your body, but never fully leave you. Sliding your neck to your back. Pulling your body closer to his. A hand placed on your hip so tightly he's afraid you might disappear.

There's no rush, no haste in his touch. His mouth not eager to devour you.

He's slow. With his hands, his tongue. Even when he picks you up and walks to your bedroom with your legs around his waist.

He doesn't throw you on the bed.

Not this time.

He lays you down. His body laying on top of yours. His hand skimming along your bare thighs, but not daring to travel any higher.

But damn you needed him. You wanted love making, but if he didn't get inside you soon, you weren't sure you could let him go after this. You weren't sure you would be able to leave.

"Johnny," you whimpered, pulling away from his mouth. "Please." You took his hand, putting it between your thigh. Aching for any friction.

He obeyed without hesitation. If you told him to get on his bark, he would in that moment. Anything to make you happy. Anything to keep you.

"Got to get you out of this dress first." He resting on his knees before he began to slide the black satin from your thighs to your stomach. You maneuvered, helping him undress you leaving you in nothing.

"I thought you liked the dress." You couldn't help, but tease. Your hand finding its home on the back of his neck, pulling you to him once more.

In a tone lacking any note of humor and in all seriousness, he looked at you. Really looking at you. Taking in how your smile reached your beautiful eyes before he said, "I want you bare to me when I take you."

You felt your stomach flutter at his words before he began to take off his clothes.

He joined you again. His body relaxing when they got between your legs again. His mouth traveled from your exposed neck to your nipples. Sucking and flicking them with his tongue until your back arched. Pressing harder into his mouth.

Your hands tangled in his soft brown hair before you boldly guided him to your already dripping core. He slid down your body before his hands began to push your knees apart until you were fully expose to him.

With your knees bent, Johnny settled on his stomach, placing soft kisses on your soft inner thighs. God, did he love seeing you squirm. He smiled at your tortured expression before looking down at your sex. "There she is." He said before placing a kiss on your pussy.

It wasn't sloppy. He wasn't diving in and licking at your center like so many times before. He was kissing it just as tenderly as he kissed your mouth. Slowly building it deeper and deeper. Adding tongue. Breaking away to readjust his head.

The delicious ache between your thighs began to become to unbearable. "Need you inside me." You panted. "Johnny-"

"Shhh." He soothed. "Got to warm you up first , Bonnie." He said before slipping his finger inside of you. One was all it took before your head settled against the pillows again. When your body relaxed, he added another. He would need to add three to make sure you were good and ready.

His digits stroked that spongy spot inside of you that made your toes curl. "You're barely fitting around my fingers." Johnny was a good 6 inches in length, but the girth is what always did you in. It hurt to take anything past his head into your mouth. If you fucked him without any preparation, especially after a week of no sex, he would tear you into too.

His tongue caressed your clit, your eyes squeezing shut as you felt your first orgasm creeping up on you.

"Johnny." You moaned, your fingers running through his soft brown hair.

"Give it to me, beauty." He panted. "Come on my face. Squeeze my fingers, Lass." He begged before his mouth went back to you.

It was like lightning. Your body now sensitive after being forsaken for so long. Your vision blurred and before you could process it, Johnny was sitting on his haunches between your legs, stroking his cock.

You could only nod, dazed and barely keeping a grip onto the reality of what this was.

The end.

He leaned forward, his cock nestling against you. You knew this was going to be nothing compared to his fingers. "Tell me if I need to stop."

You smiled, mockingly. Reminding him, "Not our first time together, Johnny." just our last.

"You were wrapped tight around my fingers." He gave a half smile before kissing your forehead. The gesture like a knife twisting in your heart. "I just don't want to hurt you."

"I'm ready." You brought your legs around his waist again. Pulling him to you, your arms wrapping around his neck as your mouths meet.

He presses into you. The head of his cock sliding inside just one or two inches. You body contracting around him in a small spasm. He swallows your moan and lets you adjust. He pulls away before looking down where the two of you meet.

"I could die like this, Lass." He said, his breath coming out unsteady as he tries his best to control himself. So close to just burying himself inside of you to the fucking hilt. "Seeing you like this is this first thing I want to see when I make it to the other side." You let out a choked cry as he pushes deeper inside you. Another inch. And another. And another until you're taking all of him.

He slurs something that sound like "fuck", but you are in too much of a daze to care. You arch into him, trying to get closer.

His thrusts are slow and deep. His pubic bone brushing against your clit making you whine and squirm. Begging for more.

You're not sure how long he had fucked you like that.

You needed it to stop.

You couldn't handle it. The softness. His words.

I could die like this, Lass.

Your lip quivered as you told him you wanted to be on top. You needed a moment. A chance to create a bit of space before he shattered your world yet again.

He pulled out. His absence already making you ache for him again before he settled beside you.

You squatted above his cock. Your feet flat against the mattress as you grabbed his hardness and slipping it inside of you. The sound you let out was pornographic. A high pitched, soft moan slipping from your lips as he buried himself inside of you again.

You placed you hands on his chest. Using the leverage to ride him. Your arms serving as barrier for you to get your bearings.

You used his body just as he had used yours. Throwing your head back, you moved faster and faster. Readjusting so your hands went from his chest to his stomach, giving him a better view of your connecting bodies.

His hand slips between the two of you, thumb pressing against your clit, and you tighten even more around. A needy whimper coming out of your throat. The sound mixing in with the sounds of his labored breathing and slapping skin as he begins to fuck up into you.

Even though he had been doing all the work for the last several minutes, you felt the tension start to creep into your calf.

"Fuck fuck fuck." You screech, barely able to hold yourself up any longer. "Ow." You hissed as the cramp took hold.

"Leg cramp?" He asked, not even faltering in his thrusts. You pathetically nod before he takes it upon himself to flip you on your back again.

"I'm going to do this every chance I can." He promises, pressing a searing kiss onto your exposed neck. "Any chance you'll give me." You can't take it. His words, his mouth, his fucking cock. It's too much. "I'm going to show you how much I want you. How much I want to fucking worship ye. Do anything to make you feel good. Not going to leave you again like that, Bonnie."

You reach for him again, pull him into a searing kiss just to shut him up. You need him to shut up. You couldn't take his false promises. You wouldn't survive it. Couldn't.

"Shit." His thrusts quicken, his thumb returning to your swollen bud. Flicking it in a way he had crafted into an art. He buries his face into your neck and you know he's getting close.

You weren't too far behind.

He didn't want to come, not yet, but this was fully out of his control. It was pathetic. A week without sex and you had him nearly coming in the first ten minutes.

But that's what you want. To see him lost in the idea that you would stay.

"Johnny." You groan out. "Please. Cum inside me."

He draws fast, beautiful circles around your clit that immediately push you over the edge. You shut your eyes tight, squeezing him like a vice as you come in strong waves, continuing to push inside you.

in out in out in out.

Deliciously clenching around him tighter and tighter until he can't take it anymore.

"Fuck," he says again, and you see it in his face, and you see it in his face, the second it's all over for him. You want to sear the image in your head. Keep it there forever. Knowing you'll never see it again. The way those enchanting blue eyes squint nearly shut before closing in complete ecstacy.

His mouth would open. A moan caught in his throat that he isn't ready to let go.

His hand closes around your hip, holding you to him while he presses as far as he can go, and it's only then do you feel his cock twitch in quick, jerky movements. He moans out your name before taking your mouth into a searing kiss.

"I fucking love you." He says. "So fucking much."

He was still under the blanket when you returned from the bathroom. You picked up your clothes up from the floor. Looking at the clock realizing you had less than five minutes to get out the door before you would be late for dinner.

"What are you doing?" he asked. You couldn't look at him. Hearing the panic in his voice almost made you stop. Tell him it really was just dinner with a colleague. A woman. That you would be back. Beg him to wait until you came home.

"I can't cancel on the dinner." You said slipping your feet into your heels. "This was a mistake."

You weren't sure why you said it. You weren't sure if you were trying to convince him or yourself. If you wanted to hurt him or make him think you regretted it when you would truthfully do it again. You would do it again and again. You would never stop.

Like Johnny, you could have died in that moment, but for a completely different. Where he would be content, you would be saved from the pain. The pain currently coursing throughout your very soul.

"Lock the door behind you." You say as you practically sprint out the bedroom. Only slowing in your stride to snatch your purse off the kitchen counter before running out. The door slamming behind you.

The restaurant was nicer than you expected. The wine alone was the price of an entree. You didn't seem to be phased at all and were relieved when Renée insisted on picking up the bill.

Your dinner had been delicious and the conversation even better. Renée wrote fantasy romance and wanted to pick your brain about a Why Choose. You had nearly spent out the over priced wine you weren't even really enjoying. Oh the irony.

"It's like all the rage now, but it's hard to make more than one appealing as the love interest. You should have seen the Goodreads comments on my last book. So many people bitched about my FMC not ending up with a character who was quite literally her adopted brother."

"So," you took a breath trying to find the words. "I'm going to be honest. I only read your latest book and I loved Luka. But I can't compare him to other MMCs you've written about so I don't know if they are similar or different. But what I can say is that I'm seeing like this trend of MMCs where they are all this dark-haired, brooding or mysterious character who dislikes mostly everyone and is only soft for either a select few or only the FMC."

"I think if you are going to write a Why Choose you need to think of guys you wouldn't mind falling in love with." You couldn't help, but think of what drew you to your boys. "One could be the leader. Someone who isn't afraid to have his neck on the line. To make sure everyone else is taken care of and being strong enough to handle the stress of that. He would be big on words of affirmation. Lifting the FMC up. For me, it would be someone that I know will take care of business. He's confident in his decision. That confidence would extend to me." You clear your throat. "If I was the FMC, that is."

"Okay." She nodded, pulling out a pen and notepad. "You don't mind if I-"

"I don't write about polygamy." Crossed that bridge. Currently trying to burn it. "So feel free."

"Another could be the one who it's so easy to fall in love with their charm. The one who falls to his knees. Wanting to worship every inch of her. The one who makes her laugh. That one to make her forget about the sadness that creeps into her bones. The one to hold her whenever he could. He's about quality time and physical touch."

"So different love languages." She said, her pen quickly scribbling.

"Yeah." You said, leaning forward. "Then there is the gift giver." Your mind went to Gaz. Most of the gifts and trinkets in the box sitting by your door had came from him. He had gotten you new earbuds when yours broke. When you were being harassed at your gym, he had bought you and him a membership at a different one. "The one who would give her the world if she asked for it. If you're going with a high fantasy then maybe the one to take note of something at a market that the FMC had been eyeing and he bought it for her. Just someone who takes notice like that."

"So acts of service would fall with all of them then you think?"

No. Simon had been the one who probably spent the least amount of money on you. He didn't praise you like John. He didn't even try to attach himself at your hip like Johnny.

But if you needed something fixed, he would come fix it himself. He'd be damned letting a strange man into your apartment. And alone? Fucking forget about it. The one who hated any sort of cardio activity outside of fucking you, but didn't hesitate in attempting to keep up with you when you wanted to go on a run and get some fresh air. If you needed something done, he didn't pay someone else to do it. He did it. If you wanted to do something, he made it happen. He made you safe.

You couldn't bring yourself to say explain it. Your eyes begin to itch. Warning you to think of something else.

So instead you just told her yeah. That they would all commit acts of service. And even in your hypothetical explanation of characters that haven't even been written yet, Simon was still the ghost among them.

"Lucky fucking girl." Renée said setting down her pen.

"Yeah." You said, downing the rest of your wine.

You walked home. The cool crisp wind feeling like it was whipping your exposed skin. It was soothing as the ghost of Johnny's touch still seemed to burn you.

You had hoped that you would get some closure, but you just felt hollow. You came twice and still manage to leave unsatisfied. Johnny wasn't malicious... he was Johnny. He wasn't like the others. Simon would never apologize and John and Kyle wouldn't try to keep reaching out after you told them know once.

Johnny couldn't stand you being mad at him. He never could. He would beg and beg for your forgiveness. You didn't regret fucking him one last time. He needed to know that you were well and truly done. There was no going back from this.

"Hey, Love!" You were pulled from your thoughts at the sound of a voice coming from a source you couldn't see. You perked up, quickly scanning the dimly lit street before your eyes settled on a cluster of shadows just across the street. "Yeah." The slurring voice said again. "Talking to you gorgeous!"

You resumed your trek home. Now picking up your pace. "Don't be like that! Where ya off to?" The voice followed you. You kept your gaze straight. You were three minutes away. Three minutes and you would be at your building.

Three minutes.

Three minutes.

"What's the rush?" Another voice joined the cacophony. "Just want to have a chat."

You turned. They were maybe twenty feet away. You kept your eyes glued to them as your started to make a run for it.

You had made it about ten feet before your body collided with someone. Firm hands gripped your upper arms, steading you as you threatened to fall back.

You sucked in a breath of air, ready to scream when you looked up. It was too dark to make out the man's facial features. He was tall. His head eclipsing the street lamp just behind him. You shook beneath his hands. The voices behind you now silent.

"Keep walking." You didn't need to see his face. You knew that deep timber voice anywhere. He released you from his grip before letting you pass him.

"Just wanted to have a chat." You heard one of them try to reason. "No harm done."

"No harm done yet." Was the last thing you heard Simon say before you broke out into a full fledged run.

[alwaysshallow]

boys trying to survive nnn with their partner (141 + los vaqueros + könig x f!reader)

a/n: if it wasn't for @blissful-bunny, there wouldn't be nnn. LMAOOO i hope y'all will enjoy, it's my first time doing something like this... and i think i don't hate it as i did before!

mdni, as always. nsfw below + keegan's version here

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Being around Ghost durning this time is funny, to say the least. You know about this bet from Gaz, when you invited the whole Task Force 141 for dinner. There wasn't much of a reaction from you, just a nod and a hum that's interesting to hear that. Nothing more, until your boyfriend's friends went home, and you stayed with him, washing dishes.

"You think you're gonna last?" you ask, and you pretty much can't stop yourself from laughing when he gives you a side eye.

"'s just a month." he grumbles, and you know, you somehow irritated him. Or, the bet did, you're not really sure. "Been through worse."

Theoretically, it is true. He's military, he has seen things that you won't ever see, something so stupid like this challenge shouldn't be something hard to do.

Practically? Practically, he takes every fucking chance to get closer to you. You're making breakfast, showering, washing the dishes? He's gonna be right behind you. It's not surprising at first, he liked to be near you always, but it has a malicious intent to it, when he drags his clothed cock up and down your ass, grunting right into your ear. He gets you worked up, and you're pretty sure he's gonna lose, but he stops right before he cums.

You can't really decide if it's funny or sad to see him like this. It's his pained expression that he gives when he bites on his lower lip, grumbling something about watching you touching yourself, so it will be better. You can't really say no to a man starved, so you put out a show for him, thinking how so much better his fingers would be in your pussy.

If it would depend on you, you'd kneel and relieve him, but what can you do, when he has this ridiculous challenge of his?

He breaks after two days, when he sees you in your shared gym, exercising. It's unexpected, when he puts down dumbbells you were working with, doing squats; you want to ask what's wrong, but when he lifts you up, your back hitting the wall, you just know. You even forgive him when he doesn't prep you enough, and he just thrusts into you without much thinking of it, his balls heavy.

You know you won't leave this gym for a long time.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

"You're participating in what?"

To say it was weird, was one thing. To say that Kyle does it, was even weirder, especially that he was straight from two months of deployment. Needy. You knew it, as you were with him almost three years by now, he had always spent hours in bed with you because he missed you like a madman. These two months were pretty much the longest you've been separated with him, so, you can imagine your surprise, when you learned about the challenge, when you two were cleaning your apartment. He was touching you every now and then, giving you little kisses, and now he was talking about something like this.

"I'm—"

"—No, I heard you" you chuckled, shaking your head. "I'm like… trying to understand who convinced you to do so."

"Bet with Soap. Lad thinks 'm not gonna last with you." he murmurs, and you just know that this motherfucker made this as a personal challenge. So, you just nod your head, to Kyle's surprise on his pretty face. "That's… all you're gonna say?"

"What else I'm supposed to say?" you raise your eyebrow, amused. "That I feel sorry for you, this will do?"

"That ain't funny."

"It is, kind of funny." you grin, as you kiss his forehead, at which he closes his eyes, so you repeat kissing his forehead a few times. "I'm gonna support you in this, yeah? So it's gonna be easier."

It wasn't easier. You could see that he glances at you every now and then, when you are doing domestic things around the house, giving him little, encouraging smiles. Little do you know that Kyle's bulge is growing larger and larger every time he looks at you.

Gaz is pretty calm, at least until he sees you in his t-shirt (that is way too big for you) and just panties underneath, sitting right beside him with a bowl of popcorn. You two planned to watch a movie, but your boyfriend quickly brushes it off, as his hand wanders under the hem of your panties.

"Kyle, you—"

"I know." he almost growls, as he puts you on his lap.

The moment he feels your wetness, he's a gone man; he makes you ride him, and the challenge is just a fading memory, when his lips attack yours.

John "Soap" MacTavish

Soap is absolutely offended when everyone in Task Force 141 tells him he's gonna lose the challenge. He can't shut up about it for an hour straight, as he lays with his head on your lap, telling you something about celibacy and being true lover, not some "horny arse like the others". You listen to it with a small, amused smile on your lips because as much as you love your boyfriend, everyone is right about it.

He's not gonna last, and he knows it personally too, but you say nothing about it. You just listen to Johnny's ramblings, until his eyes are on you, observing your reaction so casually.

"What do ya think? 'm gonna beat it? Be the best?" he tilts his head like a puppy, squinting his eyes. It's an icy ground you're standing on right now.

"I think… it's gonna be hard." you answer; slowly, reluctantly. It's not something that he wants to hear though, as he groans, shaking his head with displeasure. "What? You asked!"

"I ken it's gonna be hard. 'm askin', if 'm gonna beat it" he emphasizes his last words, and you can feel he barely holds himself from rolling his eyes.

"…well, baby, as much as I have faith in you in other things…"

It's not a good answer for him, nor for a challenge, considering that you end up getting fucked by him – it's some kind of punishment, he tells you, when he folds you in half. He tells you that he also didn't lose the challenge, technically, as you had sex November 1st , at 3 a.m. You nod, hesitantly, so you could go to sleep without causing him to ramble about it again; you are exhausted.

It takes him three days of fucking you in various places to finally come into the conclusion that the challenge isn't for him. Three days of promising and hearing him whining that it's gonna be 'st the tip, baby, to feel you good.

"Good that you've figured that out." you say with a small smile, in restaurant's bathroom, his forehead against yours, as his cock is still buried deep inside you.

"Lasted longer than lads. Sure of that."

John Price

You want to think of your husband highly, when you hear of this stupid thingy. The authority, someone that leads the Task Force 141, setting the example for his younger proteges with his willpower. Someone who actually cares about engaging in challenges, even if they're stupid, even if he shouldn't even look at something like this.

Yet, you know John, you're married to him, for God's sake – and you know his sex drive. When this man is home, nothing and no one stops him from getting what he wants, and that's on you. In your mind, there's a core memory of him saying that he absolutely loves your pussy, multiple times.

So it's not a surprise that he doesn't participate in this challenge. It's not a surprise when he babbles about having kids with you while he fucks you wherever he can; kitchen counter, under the shower, your couch. His obsession over kids grew over this month more than ever, and you were happy to meet his expectations in a middle, since you thought of having a little angel in your small family for a longer time now. Having a dog wasn't enough.

A surprise comes when he proudly admits that he won in the end of the month. Boys are pretty much shocked by this, considering that their Captain didn't even look frustrated once, and he was in better mood than usual. Yet, they don't have a place to complain, so they accept the defeat with a frown on their faces, and a quick comment from Soap that he for sure cheated.

"You didn't win, honey." you laugh to him, sitting at his lap, when he's in his office, alone.

Price arches his eyebrow in amusement. "I did."

"That's not really—"

"Listen, we were tryin' for babies, weren't we? It wasn't egoistical fuckin'." he explains, completely serious.

It takes all in you not to either gasp or laugh again. "So, if it would be without the intention of making babies, you'd lose?"

He gives you a quick nod. "Exactly, missus. Exactly."

Alejandro Vargas

It's easy to last a few days for Alejandro. Maybe even a week, or a bit more. With his kind of work, being a Colonel, you often didn't see him for days, or even weeks if it was a bad time. Right now, with working over destroying a Mexican cartel, being home was rare for him. Was it saddening? Of course, but you knew what you were doing when you married him, you've talked with him about it for days, maybe weeks, even.

So, maybe that's why he didn't really think much of a challenge when he agreed to it, one of the nights he was drinking with Los Vaqueros. Just for fun, just to make a fun memory in this mess they were in. Days were passing in the blink of an eye with the same routine; a few hours of sleep if he's lucky, patrol, documents, action and repeat. Nothing too fancy, nothing too new for a man of war like he is, he got used to it all.

Harder was the moment he came home to you, where you were waiting for him with your open arms, all needy for his presence, for his touch, but somehow, somehow he managed, giving you the best orgasm of your life with his mouth only, even if he was in need too.

"Cariño?" he calls you, confused, when he doesn't see you in bed in the next morning. In his sweatpants only, he goes to the kitchen, following the sound of pan that sizzles lazily in the background.

"Makin' breakfast, Ale!" you reply, looking behind your shoulder with the biggest smile that slowly falters the moment you see his eyes darkening in the span of seconds. "What's with the face?"

He approaches you slowly, caging you between his arms. "Just… appreciating" he says, as he starts kissing your neck "my little wife. Who's been really patient with me, gone for so many days. And now, you're making me breakfast—" he groans, shaking his head. You can feel his growing bulge, as you grind your ass against it.

It's obvious that Colonel lost the challenge, after he arrives to his work with his wife, his arm possessively around her. Why? Maybe it's your neck covered in hickeys, your trembling legs, or his arms visibly scratched, but no one says anything about it in the base.

Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra

You have a kind of forbidden romance with him; you're the one of Los Vaqueros, and the romance is absolutely prohibited here, to prevent the collapse of the squad. Not to mention that he's a right hand man of Alejandro, so he has to follows the rules directly. Maybe even more than anyone here, to be honest; setting an example that he's not a exception to the rule.

It doesn't help that you're so kind. That you nod every time you see him as a silent greeting, and then you rush to do whatever you have to do today. It doesn't help him that you're helping everyone around you with a smile that could light up the whole town, and he smiles every time he sees it, too.

Everyone pictures that Rudy would win the challenge easily, since in their heads, his head wasn't occupied with anyone, and he could easily withold himself with his desires.

And maybe he would. Maybe he would, if you weren't the one guarding the base with him, if you weren't the one who was smiling at him with those plump lips of yours.

"If you'd only know how much I thought about… hah—" his breaths are ragged, as the pace of his hips gets quicker. His lips finds yours, as he kisses you with such hunger, you know without a doubt that he means what he says. It automatically makes you smile.

"It's fate that binds us, then" you say, your fingernails clutching at his arms; you're sure that you're the creator of bloody crescents here, but you can't care less about it. Not when the man of your dreams is fucking you.

He smiles at your words.

Rudy never been a good liar, and you painfully learn it, when Alejandro asks him why he's so happy; as you stand nearby, you hear the whole conversation. It's cute in some way, the way he's a blabbering mess, without any sense of it.

It takes Colonel's one look at you, and he knows.

You never walked faster to your work, neither did Rudy.

Konig

If you think he's gonna even try playing at this, you're in deep denial. Maybe if he'd be alone he could try of a genuine curiosity, but not when he has you. Such a pretty, obedient girlfriend, that he has wrapped around his finger, and a girlfriend that is pretty much at his service every time he wants.

He's a man to laugh about that challenge with his squad, telling them that they're filthy, and he would last the whole month, maybe even longer, if it weren't for you. Because he's such a caring boyfriend, he listens to your needs, even if you're whiny.

At least, that's the story that his squad knows.

He tells you about this while he folds you in half, that he needs to act a little grumpy around his squad, to put a facade that he's hungry because it's the right thing to do. When you suggest that he could even try, he barks a low laugh, while he pumps his cock before thrusting into you.

"Schatz, as if. Not gonna play the kids game." it's all he says, kissing you with affection on your swollen lips. "I do not intend on torturing you like this. You wouldn't survive a day without my dick."

There's some truth to it — but you're truly wondering if that's you who wouldn't survive without his dick, or he, that wouldn't survive without your pussy and sex, considering he is even more of a maniac than you are.

dividers by cafekitsune

[ghostedeabha]

imagine like simon goes into some sort of surgery and has to be put under anesthesia, and when he gets out hes like still high asf on it 💀 and hes being a lil silly goose

okay this is such a cute idea omg, this is 100% based off that tiktok audio where it's like "my wife wouldn't like you touching me like that" "i AM your wife."

thank you so much for the request nonnie, a forehead kiss for you MWAH MWAH

simon 'ghost' riley x reader

wc: 563

warnings: none really, lots and lots of that good ol fluff, mentions of surgery, goofy simon, maybe a little ooc simon (he's high so it's fine)

a/n: i hope this is okay, i'm feeling a bit rusty with my writing but i've finally got back some motivation and energy to do so after the past two months of low energy and bad mental health. if you guys want to know a bit more about it and my mental health (i don't see why anyone would but lmao) let me know, i don't mind making a post about it if you guys want an explanation of some sort or whatever. anywho, sorry this is so short but i hope you still like it!! <3

a/n 2.0: i recently applied for a part time job at a bookstore so y'all pray for me that i get this job because i want it so bad. i am just gonna decide that i WILL get this job, because why wouldn't i?

simon had been out of surgery for just over an hour now, being a soldier you 'd think perhaps he was going under surgery for some kind of wound he had inflicted upon him on the battlefield but no, he was just getting his tonsils removed after a bad bout of tonsillitis ended up with him developing really bad tonsil stones.

so here you were, waiting by his bedside for him to wake up. the doctor and nurses reminded you just as he had gotten out that he may still be a little, well loopy, off of the meds depending on how quickly he woke up. you waited in a chair at his bedside, reading a book when you heard the blankets of the bed rustling just a little.

looking up from your book you see simon starting to wake up and you reach out to grasp his hand, only for him to rip it away from you when his eyes were fully opened.

"uh, si? you okay, hon?" you ask gently, maybe he just wasn't feeling too well after waking up, or perhaps he wasn't wanting physical touch, that happened quite often and you always respected that space he may want when he wanted it.

"don't call me that." simon said, voice hoarse and scratchy from the surgery, he sounded a little angry.

"what?" you questioned, this wasn't like simon, you couldn't understand why he wouldn't want you speaking like this to him.

"i'm taken."

"i know." you replied with a short laugh.

"you should be touching me like that then."

it hit you then, he was woozy from the meds and didn't recognize you. the realization made you laugh a little more. you decided to have a bit of fun with this high version of your boyfriend.

"sorry about that simon. wanna tell me about your partner?"

"oh, (name)? they're amazing, you know they're so pretty. and they're funny too. they always know how to make me feel better, i miss them." simon replies, ranting and raving on and on to you about his partner, about you.

"you love them a lot, don't you?" you ask him with a smile, it felt so nice to hear all these lovely things about yourself, your boyfriend clearly unfiltered by the effects of the anesthesia he was under.

sure he definitely said sweet things to your face, but something about hearing it when he was basically high as shit made your heart pound a little more.

"i love them with my whole heart." simon replies, a goofy little smile on his face.

you can't help but reach out to gently caress his face at those words, body filling up with some much adoration for the soldier in front of you.

"hey! what did i say about touching me. i have a partner!" simon scolds, trying to dodge your touch.

"simon, love... i am your partner. it's me, (name)." you reply with a laugh.

simon takes a good long look at you when you tell him this, he stares at you, looks you up and down before letting out a soft and quiet "oh."

you begin to hear the beeping of his heart rate monitor speed up, his cheeks turning slightly pink as he stares up at you.

you couldn't help but laugh a little more at this. what a sweet idiot. your sweet idiot.