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#i have received supportive comments from local friends
owlbelly · 6 months
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"happy" tdov, the local paper published my letter to the editor! this is both exactly what i wanted (not letting the transphobic article pass without comment/clapback) & wayyyyy more visibility for me personally than i would like :')
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limethefirst · 2 months
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Guard Dogs
pairings: Deadpool x reader x Wolverine
warnings: drinking, violence, swearing, creepy guy in a bar, crude humor
summary: you never have to worry when you go out, your guard dogs are always there to protect you
a/n: can be perceived as romantic or platonic, it’s not specified! Also I want to thank everyone who’s been supporting my stories and all the kind words I’ve received!
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Going out alone wasn’t something you liked to do, but unfortunately there were a lot of instances in which you had to. The world itself wasn’t a safe place, both Wade and Logan knew that, in fact it was one of the few things they could always agree on.
Today was no different, do your usual chores, relax, eat, work, but there was something else you wanted to do, a little treat for all your hard work, “Let’s go drinking tonight!”
Wade and Logan looked up from whatever they were doing. You had bursted into their apartment without a notice.
It was normal for all three of you to hang out, but it was unusual for you guys to all go to a bar together. Logan was the heaviest drinker of the group, he knew where to go, Wade would go with his friends mostly, and you didn’t treat yourself to this as much.
“Alright,” Logan mumbled, his eyes on whatever stories the local news channel had on, controller in one hand his head in the other.
“Woah the big bad wolf wants to be seen out with us?!” Wade exclaimed, referring to Logan, “Sign me up!” Logan rolled his eyes at the comment his ‘friend’ made, not in the mood to argue with him.
“Okay I’ll be back at 7,” You told the men, closing the door heading back to your own apartment.
“I need to go put on my good toupee!” Wade claps his hands together, heading towards his bathroom, grabbing the staplers on his way.
Logan’s eyes still glued to the television yells over to him, “They’re all ugly don’t worry.” Wade flips him off, closing the door.
Getting ready was something that made time fly by, because before anyone knew it 7 was already here. The three musketeers were ready for their adventure.
Logan led the way, knowing the best places in the city despite being here for the shortest amount of time. Wade was on your right fixing his “hair system” as he made some snarky remarks at Logan.
You walked close to Wade unaware of what was going on.
The bar was nice, it had some stools, a few benches and normal tables for bigger groups. Logan sat himself on the stools by the bartender knowing he’d get liquor much faster this way. Wade sat a seat away from Logan leaving you space in the middle of the two, which you didn’t mind at all.
“Give me another drink,” Logan called to the bar keep.
“There you go just fucking up that liver again,” Wade smirked at him, just trying to get under his skin.
“Shut the fuck up before I rip off that toupee and shove it right up your-”
Before Logan could finish Wade quickly put his finger up to his mouth, “Woah there peanut, I don’t do pegging on the first date,”
“If this wasn’t a public bar I’d cut that oversized head of yours off,”
You laughed as Logan and Wades bickering continued. Suddenly you noticed as the music seemed to turn off, normally you wouldn’t mind but tonight a nice song would’ve been good so you quietly excuse yourself from the situation.
You found yourself walking over to the jukebox; your eyes examining the song selections before picking ‘Million Dollar Man’ by Lana Del Rey (Ldr mentioned).
Having put on your song you found yourself walking back to the stool seat before a man walked in front of you.
“What’s a pretty lady like you doing by herself?” His tone was slurred, obviously from drinking too much. He wasn’t tall and he looked like he’d just woken up.
You gave a quiet sigh, “Oh I’m not alone,” You gave him a slight smile hoping he’d get the memo.
The man looked around and smiled creepily at you, “I don’t see anyone” He slowly took some more steps closer to you.
“How ‘bout now Bub,” Logan’s voice boomed from behind you, you felt his hand on your shoulder.
The creep gave an annoyed eye roll. Logan was taller than the man by a lot, and was definitely more intimidating.
“We were just talking, why don’t you leave us alone?” He began to mock Logan, this only riled him up some more.
“I’ll give you three seconds to walk away before I get serious,” Logan’s eyes were trained on the man, his arms were now crossed over his chest, visibly annoyed.
The man let out a dry chuckle, “Yeah okay what are you gonna do buddy?”
“We’re gonna fuck you in the ass,” Wade said as he showed up behind the man and grabbed his head, smashing it into the bar. Logan then brought the man back up just to knee him in the stomach before throwing him on the ground.
Everyone else started to get up after seeing the commotion, obviously itching for a fight, but you didn’t waste anytime for that grabbing both men and running out of the bar.
“Jesus Wade did you have to say that?” You asked him, wondering why he thought ass play was a threat.
“Do not use my name in vein,” he responded, clearly unbothered by his remark.
Logan gruffed at the evening you guys had, visibly tired from all that went on.
“We need to stop going out together,” you said looking at the street light.
“Let’s watch a movie at my place next time!” Wade offered, a cheery expression on his face.
“Yea whatever but you better not pick a fucking porno again,” Logan glared at him remembering the last time Wade picked a movie for the three of you to watch.
“I think it makes for good team bonding!”
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peachesofteal · 8 months
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This post contains resources for leaving a domestic violence situation (in the United States). If you have additional domestic violence resources from other countries/places in the world, please leave them in comments.
This is a content warning: beneath the cut is a conversation about Simple Math, domestic violence, and my boundaries.
Hi.
I want to preface this conversation by telling you how much I love you all. I'm so grateful to the little community that we've built here, and I really feel like we've created a space where we can talk to one another comfortably. I adore interacting with you all and I've been pleasantly surprised at Simple Math's reception. I knew writing a fic with a character who had survived domestic violence would open a certain kind of conversation, and I'm okay with that, to an extent.
That being said:
For my own peace, I ask that you refrain from sending me GRAPHIC messages about your experience with domestic violence. If you are a victim/survivor/witness/etc, and you want to open a conversation with me reference your experiences and/or trauma, I am absolutely okay with that as long as it's done in an appropriate way. A lot of us can relate to Bun, and I don't have an issue sharing enthusiasm for the story in relation to your life. I am not okay with DMs or anonymous messages detailing graphic descriptions of abuse. You don't know me, my personal life, or the things I've experienced, and sending a detailed play by play of your past or current experiences (without even a warning) is not okay. I understand that you need someone to talk to, or maybe even someone to ask for advice, but I cannot read the graphic nature of these messages, and I encourage you to turn towards someone who knows you personally so you can receive help. Leaving the details of a current or ongoing domestic violence situation in my inbox, with no way for me to report what is happening or ability to get you any kind of help or resources, cannot happen. Domestic violence is a crime. In the case of physical abuse, it is a violent crime. Please do not detail violent crime to me in my inbox.
I consider myself to be a kind person. I try to help my community in real life and here as much as I can. I strive to make this a space where you feel comfortable and welcomed. I enjoy the way we interact and talk about these stories. It pains me to have to write something out like this, but I really don't know what else to do. It's very upsetting to read a message from someone who possibly is being harmed, and then feeling like I'm screaming into a fucking void because it's an anonymous message and I cannot help.
I've included some resources below if you're in the US and need somewhere to start in regard to getting out of a domestic violence situation.
US resources: Phone: 800-799-7233 Text: Text START to 88788
Create a safety plan. It’s important to plan how to stay safe while still living with an abusive partner and how you can safely leave the home or relationship. Record evidence of any abuse you experienced. This could include pictures of injuries you received or threatening messages. If possible, keep a journal of violent incidents, noting dates, events, and any threats made. Store your journal in a safe place. Establish where you can go to get help. If you’re comfortable doing so, tell someone trusted about what’s happening. They can help you with safety planning or finding resources that support survivors. Plan with your children and identify a safe place where they can go during moments of crisis, like a room with a lock or a friend’s house. Reassure them that their job is to stay safe, not to protect you. When preparing to go to a shelter, if you can, call ahead to see what the shelter’s policies are. They can give you information on how they can help and how to secure a space when it’s time to leave. Our advocates can also provide you with local resources. Try to set money aside or ask trusted friends or family members to hold money for you somewhere an abusive partner can’t reach it. Financial abuse is very common and creates many issues for someone preparing to leave. If relevant and feasible, pursue job skills or educational qualifications that expand your opportunities for independence. Talk with an advocate at The Hotline. Our advocates are highly trained in all aspects of domestic violence. They can help you create a safety plan, give information on preparing to leave, and can connect you to local domestic violence resources for further support. Create a safety plan. It’s important to plan how to stay safe while still living with an abusive partner and how you can safely leave the home or relationship. Record evidence of any abuse you experienced. This could include pictures of injuries you received or threatening messages. If possible, keep a journal of violent incidents, noting dates, events, and any threats made. Store your journal in a safe place. Establish where you can go to get help. If you’re comfortable doing so, tell someone trusted about what’s happening. They can help you with safety planning or finding resources that support survivors. Plan with your children and identify a safe place where they can go during moments of crisis, like a room with a lock or a friend’s house. Reassure them that their job is to stay safe, not to protect you. When preparing to go to a shelter, if you can, call ahead to see what the shelter’s policies are. They can give you information on how they can help and how to secure a space when it’s time to leave. Our advocates can also provide you with local resources. Try to set money aside or ask trusted friends or family members to hold money for you somewhere an abusive partner can’t reach it. Financial abuse is very common and creates many issues for someone preparing to leave. If relevant and feasible, pursue job skills or educational qualifications that expand your opportunities for independence. Talk with an advocate at The Hotline. Our advocates are highly trained in all aspects of domestic violence. They can help you create a safety plan, give information on preparing to leave, and can connect you to local domestic violence resources for further support.
You are loved, even if it doesn't feel like it. You have the ability to do things you never could have dreamed of, and that includes getting out.
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mountainsandmayhem · 8 months
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You're a Brat, Little Dove
Joel Miller x Female!Reader
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Masterlist
Summary: You play with Joel at your 25 year high school reunion to get exactly what you want. CW: Dom!Joel, Sub/Dom, blowjob, throat fucking, gagging, nipple play, Brat!Tamer, unprotected p in v (they’re in a long-term relationship), oral (f and m receiving), anal play very briefly, pet names, cream pie kink, praise kink, degradation if you squint, denial and edging, NO AGE GAP (Joel and reader are in their 40’s)  A/N: I am absolutely BLOWN AWAY by the love that You're Mine and Stay Still have gotten. Truly, from the bottom of my cold, dead heart I really appreciate your likes, comments and reblogs. Hopefully you enjoy this one, as well. Dividers and banners by @saradika-graphics Word Count: 5.6k
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Dress. Check. 
Nude heels. Check. 
2 daytime outfits.  Check. 
Drive home clothes. Check. 
Make up bag. Check.
Stop worrying so much. You’re not even leaving the country, you can buy what you forgot.
“You ok?” Joel asks as he wraps his arms around you from behind.
“Just the usual pre-travel anxieties.” You say, leaning into his warmth. Your arms unconsciously cross over his, hands resting on his forearms. 
“We’re not leaving the country, you can buy whatever you forgot,” you smile to yourself at how well he knows you as his lips press lightly to your temple. “Remember when I had to go out of town at the last minute before our Disneyland trip and you packed for all of us?”
“Mmhmmm,” you say. The memories come flooding in of those two little girls; one dressed as a princess from head to toe and the other refusing to take off her Darth Vader helmet. The latter was far braver on the “scary rides”, and held her sister's hand until they were both giggling and screaming with delight.
“You didn’t miss a single thing - for any of us. Including the nightlight that Sarah couldn’t be without and the granola bars that Ellie claimed were the only things she could have for breakfast.” 
You turn your head and gently press your lips to his. This is the kind of love that people write about. Supportive. Caring. Complete and unwavering trust. Each person is 100% in for the other, willingly giving when the other needs to take, and never keeping score. You don’t judge the other for any sort of anxiety they might be having or help they might be needing. Partners. Through and through. 
A noise from the kitchen brings you back and you break the kiss. “What is that incessant beeping?” 
“That’s your phone,” he laughs while pulling out of the hug and squeezing your sides. “It’s been going off all morning. Someone is messaging you on Facebook.” 
You squirm free of his wandering hands and go to brush your teeth. When you come back out to the kitchen he’s scrolling through the messages in your phone. 
“Who is it?” You ask, getting your morning coffee ready. 
Joel throws his head back, laughing loudly as he reads in a mocking voice, “Hi. Long time no talk. I saw your name on the guest list for the reunion this weekend. Can’t wait to catch up. Looks like you’re single. At least based on your profile. Glad to see you got rid of that goon you were dating in your 20s.” 
Your profile is blank, a picture of you holding baby Ellie the day you officially adopted her is the only thing on there, and you have maybe 15 friends. Truthfully, you aren’t even sure why you have it, even in the heyday of Facebook, you weren’t exactly a share-everything-about-yourself-on-the-internet type of girl.
“Oh god,” you laugh. “It’s Zack, isn’t it?” 
Joel wipes away a tear from laughing so hard. “Each sentence is its own message, but I’m a goon?” He slides your phone across the counter to you adding, “Can I punch him again when we see him?” 
Years ago, while visiting your parents, Zack got a little too handsy when you ran into each other at a local pool hall. Joel was and very much still is, a ‘touch her and die’ type of lover. 
You both laugh as you kiss him goodbye and head to work.
On your lunch break, you updated your profile picture to you and Joel with the girls at their high school graduation. Hopefully, Zack will get the message. By 5 pm you’re rushing home to get out the door and drive 5 hours to your old hometown. 
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The minute you walk into the reunion you see women’s heads turning to look at Joel. You can’t say you blame them, Joel Miller is the dictionary definition of a DILF! And tonight, in perfectly tailored black pants, a crisp black dress shirt and black tie, his slightly outgrown curls pushed back, and grey scruff perfectly trimmed, he looks hot as sin. And then, just to add insult to an already smoldering hot injury, he recently came to terms with needing glasses for driving at night. Those black frames should be illegal. 
Over the last few days you’ve been sending him articles about spanking and on the drive up had an open and honest communication about what you both wanted out of it. Deep down you’re hoping tonight is your night, you’re tempted to just go back to the hotel and let him do whatever he wants. Instead, the two of you hit the bar to get a drink before finding a table to sit at.
“Who is that lady in the gold sequin dress with the black hair, almost directly behind you?” Joel asks awkwardly, sipping his whiskey.
You glance around the room, trying to not make it obvious when you catch the one person you don’t want around Joel staring right at him. 
“Lucy Garfield.” You say flatly. “She’s the one that slept with Zack seconds after I left for university. I thought they were married but she is eye fucking you so hard.”
“Gross,” he laughs, his nose crinkling up in disgust. He’s so endearing when he’s joking around with you, “Don’t say eye fucking.”
You laugh, “It’s what she’s doing Joel. I wonder how long before she’s over here talking to you.”
You start pushing your chair out from the table and he grabs your leg, “Leave me alone and you’re dead to me”
“Joel,” you giggle and try to push the chair more, “I kinda have to pee though.” 
“Babe, I'm serious. She scares me,” he says with a shudder. “I can feel her looking at me.” 
“Oh, she’s doing more than looking…” you tease, sliding your chair back in.
“Don’t say it.”
He squirms as you lean in to his ear and whisper, “Eye fucking.”
“I hate you.” 
After a few hours of catching up with old friends, you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom and grab another drink for you and Joel. When you come out of the bathroom Lucy is alone at your table with Joel. You can see the discomfort on his face as she shows him something on his phone. You’re not jealous or worried, but when Zack approaches you at the bar you decide to have a little fun.
“So you didn’t break up with him after all?” He’s leaning back cockily on the bar, arms crossed, eyes locked on Lucy. 
“No,” you laugh while ordering drinks; whiskey neat for Joel and a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon for you. “I never planned to.” 
“I figured. Lucy seems to take a liking to anyone you set your sights on.”
“You would know best, Zack.” You’re still facing the bar, but you see Zack glance quickly in your direction at the dig. “Any advice for poor Joel over there?”
“Don’t leave the best thing that ever happened to you for a gymnast with...” he stops speaking when he looks back to you, seeing you with one eyebrow raised as you sip your wine. “She and I are getting divorced.” 
“I assumed.”
“Oh?”
And that’s when you hear it. Your song with Joel. 
‘I know what you look like in the morning
Your kisses are soft and warm’
Joel looks around the room for you, when he spots you at the bar a mischievous grin crosses your face and you lean in close to Zack. 
“Dance with me?” You whisper, giving him the puppy eyes he never used to say no to. 
‘I can draw you with my eyes closed 
Seen you with nothing on but the radio’
He places a hand on your lower back and leads you to the dance floor before pulling you in close. Huh, you think to yourself, 25 years later and still got it.
You look away from Joel and give Zack a tight lipped smile as the first verse of the song melts into the chorus. 
‘I know the kind of thing that makes you laugh 
The way you tilt your head for a photograph
What other guy knows you like that’
You fight the urge not to look past Zack’s shoulder and over at Joel as Zack’s voice drones on in the distance, telling you about his divorce. 
‘And I can name the first guy you ever kissed’
You can’t help but sneak a glance at Joel. Zack is the first guy you kissed and Joel knows it.
‘I can name the perfume on your wrist’
Joel crosses his arms, staring at you darkly from across the room. Fuck, you think maybe you bit off more than you can chew.
‘What other guy knows you like that’
Joel stands and strides over to you. 
Yes. Got him. He doesn’t look mad, if anything he’s looking at you with dangerous desire in his eyes. Your heart flutters as heat travels between your thighs.
“Babe, we gotta go.” 
Zack starts to protest but you release yourself from his arms and say with a big smile, “It was lovely catching up. Thank you for the dance.” 
As Joel leads you off the dance floor he growls quietly in your ear, “You’ve been a very bad girl, Little Dove.” 
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The car ride back to the hotel is silent. Not a word is uttered between either of you, the second the elevator door closes Joel presses you back against the wall.  Towering over you, one of his hands roughly pulls down the right cup of your dress and bra, he pinches your nipple hard between his thumb and pointer finger. 
You gasp out in pain, but he doesn’t say anything, just glares down at you. As the pain morphs into pleasure you squeeze your thighs together, your panties starting to soak through. He releases you when the elevator stops and turns his back to you, you cover your abused nipple back up before you follow him into your room.
“Clothes off and kneel,” he growls, throwing a pillow haphazardly at your feet.
“Joel-I…” you stutter out. He stalks across the room, only the discarded pillow separating you. 
“I said,” he starts harshly. “Clothes off and kneel, Little Dove.”
You swallow the dry lump in your throat while sliding the zipper down the side of your black dress, letting it fall to the ground. A deep, guttural moan escapes Joel as you kick the dress aside and remove your bra and panties. You’re completely bare for him, nothing but your nude heels left. 
“That’s better. Now kneel.” 
You do as he says, getting into his desired position; hands on your lap and eyes aimed at the floor in front of you. He bends, cupping your chin and tilting your face up to meet his gaze. You expect to see his eyes dark and lips tight, instead, you’re met with softness, his chocolate brown eyes boring into you.
“Little Dove,” he starts, his voice just barely above a whisper. “I am going to punish you for being a brat tonight. Everything I plan to do is things we’ve talked about.” 
“Like what?” You ask as your mouth goes impossibly dry.
“No, you don’t get answers tonight. You’re in trouble. Do you remember your safe words?”
You nod, “Yes sir.”
The colour coding system is how Joel prefers to do things. Red if you need to end things, yellow if you need a break or to slow down, and green to keep going.
His thumb caresses your cheek, “That’s my girl.” 
Joel stands abruptly and your gaze follows him. When he looks down at you, his features are no longer soft. His eyes are almost black, eyebrows slightly knit together and jaw clenched. He snaps his fingers and points at the ground and you immediately obey, shifting your gaze back to where he prefers it. He walks across the room, uncuffing the sleeves of his black dress shirt and rolling them up his thick forearms. You hear the unmistakable sound of him removing his tie and his glasses being placed on the table.
“You were a brat tonight, Little Dove,” he says darkly. “Remind me, do I like brats?” 
“No, sir.” It comes out in a nervous squeak.
Joel stares at you for a while and it’s nearly impossible to keep your eyes on the ground. If Joel had to classify himself, he’d say he was a pleasure Dom. He’d rather use pleasure until you’d beg him to stop, but pleasure is earned, and you used that song and your ex-boyfriend to get to him tonight. He saunters back over and pets your head, just as you start to close your eyes and lean into his touch he grips your hair hard and pulls until you’re once again looking up at him. A shocked yelp comes out of you as you make eye contact. 
“I think you did this on purpose because you so badly want me to spank you.”
“N-no, sir.” 
“No? I bet if I reached in between your legs and felt your pretty little pussy she’d be soaked for me right now. Am I right?” 
“Y-yes.” 
“Take out my cock, Little Dove.” 
His grip on your hair doesn’t loosen as you reach up with shaky hands to undo his belt and pants. As you slide his dress pants down his thick thighs you can see him already hard under his tight black boxers. As you lower those, his thick cock springs free, brushing against your face.
“Hands on my thighs,” he barks.
You jump slightly at the harsh tone and move your hands to rest along the sides of his thighs. He moves his free hand to one of yours and taps on your hand 3 times. “You do that if you need to stop. Show me.” 
You tap 3 times on his thigh like he showed you. “Too bad you were such a bad girl tonight. I wanted to please you and not punish you.”
He moves his hand to fist his cock a few times. It brushes your lips as he continues to speak. “Who do you belong to, Little Dove?”
“You sir,” you answer firmly but quietly. 
“That’s right. Open.”
You lick your lips and obey his orders. He lines himself up and slides the tip of his cock in your mouth, pumping his shaft slowly with his hand, the other still locked in your hair. 
“Mine,” he says it like he’s claiming you as he works more of himself into your mouth. You’re surprised how he takes his time, inching in a little before pulling back, letting you swirl your tongue around to get him nice and wet. When he’s finally all the way in, pushing against your gag reflex he groans out, “So…completely…mine.”
You look up at him through your lashes and remind yourself to relax your throat and breathe through your nose, moaning around his cock before he pulls it all the way out. Saliva falls from your mouth and he smirks at you cockily while he fucks himself with his palm, the tip of his leaking dick resting on your tongue. The salty taste of his pre cum sends a fresh wave of arousal to the apex of your thighs, you can feel it gathering on your calves that are tucked underneath you. 
Without warning, Joel starts to fuck your throat. He pushes himself all the way in and you gag around him before he pulls out halfway. He continues this punishing rhythm for a while, muttering darkly about how you’re a bad girl and you deserve to be punished.  
You’re taken aback by how much you fucking love it. Watching him tower above you all big and strong but you know he’s falling apart. He’s becoming putty because of you and your mouth. It’s filthy and slightly degrading, but you realize that you’re the one in control here. You could do this forever and make a mental note to find times to act out more often.  Tears start to run down your cheeks as his thrusts turn sloppy. You know he’s close so you hum around his cock.
“Oh fuuuuck, baby.” He pulls himself out and steps back, strings of saliva falling from his cock and landing on your chin. Your hands hit the ground in front of you as you gasp in a full breath for this first time since he started using your mouth.  The heat between your thighs is starting to become unbearable.
“What did you think was going to happen - huh?” he says in a deep and condescending tone. “That I’d spank you and then make you come?”
“I’m sorry, sir.” You’re not sorry though, you’d do it again just to feel that gush between your thighs when he hits the back of your throat. 
“Only good girls get spankings. So let me make myself very clear.” You straighten your spine and look up at him as he goes back to petting your hair. 
“You are not allowed to cum.” His voice is deep and scratchy, you’re sure he could make a living by narrating erotica, but that voice is yours.
A small whimper escapes you as he continues. “I’m going to continue to use you how I want. If I think you’ve proven yourself to be my good girl, you’ll get that spanking you want so desperately. Understand?” 
He almost purrs as he says good girl and it turns you feral. “Yes, sir.” 
He reaches a hand to you and helps you stand. He gently wipes the tears from your cheeks before kissing the tip of your nose. “Get on the bed.”
As you walk to the bed you bring one leg up to remove your heels. “Leave them on. Hands and knees, Little Dove.”
Fuck, he knows this is your kryptonite. And fuck, you’re back to thinking that maybe you bit off more than you can handle. Joel is predictable about his Sunday plans during football season and nothing else. 
After stripping off his clothes he comes up behind you, rubs the warm tip of his cock through your slit and he lets out a deep moan. Both of you can hear the wetness as he moves from your clit to your ass. “Mmmm - my bad girl clearly liked having me fuck her throat. You’re soaked for me.”
A firm hand pushes down between your shoulder blades and your upper body hits the mattress. at this new angle, everything is bare to him. 
“Mine,” he says again before placing a few long, slow licks from your clit to your ass, swirling and pressing his tongue in all the right places. “So…completely…mine.” 
His tongue teases your clit as he lightly teases your ass with the pad of his thumb.  The heat begins to spread to your spine, the world falls away and all you’re left with is Joel.  Joel and his wonderful and magic tongue.  Joel and his ability to make you cum.  His voice from earlier rings through your cries of pleasure, ‘you are not allowed to cum.’
“I…n-no…” you stutter, squeezing all your muscles to stop the orgasm that’s fast approaching. “That’s gonna…I’m gonna!” 
“Don’t you dare, Little Dove.” He bites down on your ass cheek and you yelp in pain, but glad for the distraction from how close you were to finishing. 
“Such a bad little girl tonight.” He says into your skin before continuing to tease you with his tongue, swirling your clit, moving to gently flick your ass, then back to your clit. You never know where his tongue might explore next and you find yourself mentally mapping out each aisle of your favorite grocery store with your eyes clamped shut to distract yourself. 
“I wanna be a good girl,” you beg, utterly desperate to follow his rules tonight. “Please stop. I wanna be good, sir.” 
“Poor thing,” he says mockingly, rising and sliding himself inside you so slowly that you feel every inch, vein, and ridge. 
“Fuuuuuuuccccck,” you gasp as he bottoms out. A small, pleading ‘please’ escapes your lips but you don’t even know what you’re asking for. Your body feels like liquid at this point, every muscle relaxed and every bone somehow missing. It’s a complete state of nirvana, if only he’d let you cum.
“Not yet,” he drags out of you and slams back in, a complete juxtaposition to how he first entered you. His grip on your hips is so tight that you’re sure you’ll have bruises tomorrow. “This is my pussy, mine. Say it.”
“Y-yours…” you manage to whine. “oh fuck…yours Joel.”
“That’s right, babygirl.  Mine. So…completely…mine.”
One of your shoes falls to the ground as he continues to slam into you.  You no longer know the difference between right and left, you just know that one shoe is missing. As you reach back to touch him, he pins your hand to your lower back, sliding almost all the way out before slowly pressing his hips flush with your ass. 
“No,” he says sternly. “Only good girls get to touch.” 
You scream out his name, begging him to let you cum. Joel leans forward and pulls you up, still fully inside of you, he holds you still against his warm chest, the combination of your sweat and his sweat feeling sticky along your back.  
“You like when I use you like this, Little Dove?”
“Yessss,” you whine. You force yourself not to roll your hips even though the need to orgasm is almost painful. The word yellow flows through your mind. You could say it. You could say it and get what you want, but you trust Joel. You trust that he has bigger and better plans for you. 
“Say it,” he commands while rolling your earlier pinched nipple between his fingers. 
“Use me, sir….Please. I want to please you.”
“That’s my girl. My perfect little submissive.”
He pushes you back down into the sheets and fucks you harder. The sounds of skin slapping skin and your moans and squeals fill the room. You tense every muscle again to stop the orgasm that’s right on the surface. 
“Where do you want it, Little Dove?”
“Inside me, sir.”
Joel curses through gritted teeth. “Fuck, baby.” 
“Fill me, sir.”
“Such a filthy little girl. D’you know that?” His voice is strained, you know he’s close and you just have to hold off a little longer. 
“Only for you,” you say through moans and gasps.
That’s what does it and you push him over the edge with your words, the heat of his spend filling you as he lets out a loud moan. “Good fucking girl.”
He moves his hips into you a few more times, filling you so much it starts to leak out. “Fuck, takin’ me so well, soundin’ so goddamn sweet as you beg.” 
He doesn’t stay in long after he cums, which you’re thankful for because you’re sure a faint breeze could make you detonate at this point. He steps back to admire the mess he’s made, using his fingers to push his cum back inside you before sitting next to your knees.
“Get over my knee.” 
You rush on shaky limbs to get over this lap, wiggling your ass in nervous excitement. He uses one hand to pin your wrists behind your back. “Mmm - that’s my good girl.” 
Joel uses his other hand to draw slow circles along your cheeks. His warm and calloused fingers send shivers across your body.  “How many do you think you should get?” 
“10,” you respond sheepishly. 
Joel laughs deeply to himself. “You were a brat. Do you really think 10 is enough?” 
You audibly swallow in response to what you know is a rhetorical question. You didn’t think your pussy could throb any harder, but his voice, his hands, and this position has every nerve in your body aflame. 
“20, and if you behave, I’ll stop at 15.” 
“Please, sir.” The anticipation is killing you.
“Ok. I am going to spank you with my hand 20 times. You are going to count and say ‘I’m sorry’ after each one. Understand?” 
“Yes, sir.”  You try not to whine, but you need to be touched,
“Give me a colour baby”
“Green,” you whisper needily. 
2 sharp and quick slaps hit your ass.
“1 and 2,” you squeal, “I’m sorry” 
Light finger strokes tickle along the back of your thighs and up towards the now stinging skin. Joel’s hand disappears from your body and you tense. 
“Shhh,” his thumb holding your wrist strokes the soft skin. “Take a deep breath, Little Dove.” 
You inhale shakily, as you try to relax on your exhale, his hand comes down again. When the two of you did your research on spanking, all the experts said you’d know the sound of a good spank, and Joel being, well Joel, has taken it to a new level of perfection. His third spank stings, but it’s quickly replaced with a fresh wave of warmth in your core. 
“Three. I’m sorry,” you love how quickly he can turn you into a whining mess.
From that point you’re in a trance. You almost feel like you’re floating outside your body as Joel continues your punishment. You hear your voice counting each strike of his hand.  A rush of adrenaline courses through you after each one and you can feel his spend leaking out and dripping in between your thighs.
“Eight. I’m sorry” 
“Messy messy girl.” He says, swiping a finger up your thigh and through the folds of your swollen pussy, he stays away from your clit but you could scream with how good it feels. “I should make you clean this up.” 
You turn your head, glancing over your shoulder to face him, readying yourself for him to slide his fingers down your throat. Instead, he licks his fingers clean and then lays 3 quick smacks across your ass. 
“Eleven. Oh god,” your body jolts with the first one but by the third you’re rolling your lips into him for friction, you need more. More pain. More of his fingers. More of anything and everything he’s willing to give you. “I’m sorry.”
Joel isn’t surprised to see that you like the pain, but he is surprised by how much he likes seeing you in pain. He was hesitant about this whole thing, worried about hurting you, but you’ve never looked more beautiful. A blush lights your face and neck, a thin sheen of sweat across your body. Your squeals and cries slowly become wanton moans. He knows it hurts you, but he can also see how that pain is temporary followed by a rush of adrenaline and pleasure. 
“Good job, Little Dove,” he rubs the red hand prints gently. “Fuck, I don’t deserve you.” 
You relax into his lap as his praises wash over you. You feel completely submissive to him and for the first time, you feel what he said earlier. You are his. So completely his. 
“My,” SMACK 
“Perfect,” SMACK
“Little,” SMACK 
“Submissive,” SMACK 
They happen so quickly that all you can do is moan loudly in ecstasy, heat flooding your core to the point that it’s unbearable.  Pressure behind your eyes builds as your neediness grows.  
“Fif-fifteen. I’m sorry, sir.” You’re squirming uncontrollably, tears threaten to spring from your eyes.
“Please - please. It huuuurts.” Joel knows it’s not the spanking that hurts, it’s the animalistic need to cum that’s causing you so much discomfort. 
“There’s my good girl,” he growls, sliding 2 fingers deep inside you. He curls them forward into your tight and messy heat. The squelching of his cum mixed with your arousal fills the room.
“Does this feel good, Little Dove?” 
“Please Joel,” you sob through stuttered breaths, unable to hold back the tears any longer. “P-please - don’t stop.”
“Fuck I love when you say please. Did you know that?  How it makes my cock twitch hearing you whine sweetly, asking so nicely.” 
He slows his fingers, he knows how sensitive you are, he can feel your pussy gripping tightly to his fingers and he wants to bring you pleasure now, not push you into overstimulation. “You took those so beautifully, Little Dove. I’m so proud of you.” 
You cry out a thank you, your orgasm is right there, the heat in your stomach and spine ready to erupt and spread to the rest of your body. As you squirm on his lap you can feel his erection growing beneath you. Joel continues curling his fingers against your most sensitive spot, his other hand letting go of your wrists and moving to soothe the handprints he left. The gentleness of one hand combined with the demanding desire of the other sends your mind swirling. 
“Get up, baby girl.” He slides his fingers out from you and you want to cry out and complain before he adds, “I want you to cum on my cock.” 
Joel steadies you as you stand up in front of him, “Hold on, spin around.” 
You do as he says, albeit slightly confused until he presses his lips to the bright red handprints he’s tattooed across your skin. 
Yep, you think to yourself. I’m His. So completely his. 
You lay back on the bed, Joel crawling between your legs. He’s looking at you the way he used to when you first met, taking in every inch of your skin almost as if to commit it to memory. It’s the complete opposite of how he looked at you while you danced with Zack. His dangerous desire has turned to an overwhelming softness. 
“Lift your hips, baby,” he slides a spare pillow under you. 
His strong hands massage your hips gently as his eyes rake over your red and swollen pussy. “Oh - that looks painful, baby. Do you need me to take care of it?” 
You whine out in frustration, “Please, sir. I need to cum. Please.” 
He lets out a whispered ‘oh god’ at your pleas, hooking one of your legs in the crook of his elbow, the other wrapping around his waist as he lines himself up and then leans down to softly press his lips to yours. He slides inside of you slowly and you’re instantly shaking underneath him. 
“Shhh, you’re ok,” he whispers into your lips before kissing you harder, rocking his hips with perfect precision. “I’m right here. I got you, baby. I got you.”
The soft part of his belly grazes your clit and you cry out into his mouth. “Oh god - I’m gonna cum.” 
“There you go, baby. Cum for me.” 
You fall apart around him, your head falling back in a silent cry to the ceiling. A buzz of electricity shutters through your whole body, your walls clenching around him harder than you thought was possible. 
“That’s it,” he says into your neck as he licks and kisses. “Let go for me.” 
His words spread more tingles along your skin, you tangle your hands in his curls and pull his face to yours. Kissing him deeply as you start to come down. He stills inside you as he comes again, sending you into a wave of aftershocks. You swallow his moans in your kisses, you never want this to end.
“Stay here honey,” Joel says, getting up to walk with wobbly legs to the bathroom. He comes back with a warm cloth and carefully wipes you clean. Your body jolts and you cry out when he gets near your clit, he whispers apologies while drying you with a towel.
You start to get up. “Are you ok?” he questions. 
“I have to pee,” you laugh. As you wash your hands you take in your reflection. Your poor nipple is purple from the elevator, you have mascara down your face, and as you predicted, you are already bruising from his grip on your hips. You spin to see angry, dark red splotches along the globes of your ass and you smile at yourself. Fuck, is there something wrong with me? 
Even though you’re exhausted, you practically skip back out to the bed where Joel is holding a big glass of water and some soothing lotion that he purchased weeks ago for this exact moment. He laughs and shakes his head, he knows he’s in for it now seeing how happy you are with yourself. 
“Drink this and then lay on your stomach please,” adding a quick, “you little brat.” 
“So bossy.” You joke and roll your eyes, but you both love this part and as elated as you are right now, you know you need the aftercare so that your anxieties don’t get you later. So, you do as he says. You drink the water and then lay on your stomach. Joel rubs the cooling lotion on your marks and then places long, light kisses along your spine.
“How are you feeling?” He coos between kisses.
“I’m great. That was amazing. How are you feeling? I know you weren’t too sold on spanking me.”
Joel lies beside you and pulls you in, his front presses against yours, both of you using your own arm as a pillow. “Honestly, I’m surprised by how much I liked it. You looked so beautiful the entire time. I didn’t think I would like it, but….” He trails off looking slightly embarrassed, using his free hand to play with your hair. 
“But?” you push.
“But…well a man my age doesn’t get multiple orgasms very often, makin’ me feel like we’re in our 20’s again.”
“Well, I guess I’ll just have to act out more often. Any cute guys on the job site I can eye fuck?” 
Joel growls as he pulls you over to rest on his chest. “Mine. Now go to sleep, Little Dove. And stop saying that.” 
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Tag List: @corazondebeskar @hiddenbabynyc @mermaidgirl30 @rainstorms-library @smutsmutslut @sullyrocky44 @keylimebeag @pimosworld @casa-boiardi @pedritoferg @paleidiot
Also a special tag for @javierpena-inatacvest because I'm not on a mission to make her a Joel girlie.
322 notes · View notes
evermontamour · 2 months
Text
Take This Longing
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“Let me see your beauty broken down”
warnings: 18+, fluff with a touch of angst, oral (m and f receiving), sub al, a bit of rimming and fingering (m receiving), piv, choking and crying during sex, lots of feelings
word count: 3.7k
Alex and I sat in our local East London pub with loud and hectic chatter filling the room. A football match was on; it was Arsenal vs. Manchester City.
I leaned against Alex's shoulder, with his hand wrapped tightly around my waist, while we both watched the match on a wooden seat adjacent to the unlit fireplace.
The smell of alcohol lingers in the air, mixing with the sound of clinking glasses and exuberant cheers.
Despite the noise, I felt a sense of peace from being so close to Alex, enjoying our time together in the midst of the excitement. The pub was fairly crowded on this gloomy Friday night, with the dimly lit, cosy atmosphere becoming more intimate as it approached halftime in the game.
Alex got us each a pint of Estrella, though he finished his within a couple minutes, which wasn't like him.
He didn't make much effort to talk to me today; even when we prepared breakfast together, there wasn't much from him, just shy kisses and silent smiles.
I couldn't shake the feeling that something might've been off between us, but I didn't want to distract him by bringing it up. Instead, I nestled closer to him, hoping that the warmth of his body would dispel any doubts lingering in my mind. Closing my eyes, I sought solace in the chaos around us, immersing myself in his embrace.
Only when I tried to lighten his mood by commenting on someone's outfit or the match on TV, which he seemed to be laser-focused on, did he reply with deliberate laughter or a monotone “Yeah."
He usually gets so pumped up watching a football match, especially when London is playing. He even normally invites a friend over to watch with us at the pub or our house.
However, this whole day was just different. The air around Alex turned cold, a stark contrast to his usual warmth. While I have seen him like this before, the silence between us was unprecedented.
Though he was quiet with his words, he kept clinging close to me, like he needed something but didn’t want to ask for it.
Abruptly, he got up from the seat. Adjusting his cap, he tilts his head to the side while gesturing to me, holding his hand out to grip mine, indicating that he wants to head back home.
My face reads in confusion as we walk out together, hand in hand, his grip becoming tenser with every step we take.
"Are you okay?" I asked, turning towards him.
He looks at me with a pained expression, his eyes betraying a vulnerability I wasn’t too familiar with.
"Not feeling well," he finally admits, his voice barely above a whisper.
His distant gaze gave me a sense of detachment. He was obviously out of it.
I nod in understanding, squeezing his hand reassuringly. We walk in silence for a few minutes with the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air.
He would never admit it, but I could see right through him. I knew I had to tread carefully around him but still offer my support without prying too much.
The tension in his grip grew weaker as we approached the front door.
As we entered the familiar surroundings of our home, I sensed a slight shift in his demeanour. Was the comfort of being in his own space beginning to alleviate some of his burdens or worsen them?
He removed his black cap and leather jacket, hanging them on the coat hangers by the entrance. He kept his head down, his gaze fixed on the red and black patterned carpet, its hues reflecting his sombre mood.
Alex walks up the narrow, black stairs as I follow behind to our bedroom.
We both slip into something comfortable, and while doing so, I find myself stealing glances at him, analysing his reactions with each movement he makes, attempting to gauge his emotional state.
I felt a sense of pure happiness and belonging in Alex’s presence that I’ve never experienced before. Every moment spent with him is a gift I never want to take for granted. The way he looks at me with such intensity, as if he can see right through to my soul, he means everything to me. I find myself constantly drawn to him, craving him like a drug.
Yet, it was impossible to ignore this nagging feeling constantly pouring off of Alex.
Although he was acting cold towards me, the warmth of his firm hands all over my thighs and my waist in the pub reassured me that I wasn’t his problem.
I knew this was something bigger. His ego.
I could feel the weight of his insecurities, and I wanted to help him carry them.
At times, I contemplate the authenticity of his struggles, questioning if he fabricates his torment for creative fodder rather than facing the superficiality of his social circle and lifestyle.
But deep down, I knew his struggles were real and that he needed someone to see past the facade, and I was that person for him, no matter how long it took for him to trust me completely.
We sat up on our bed, adorned with white linen, both reading a book. His was Despair by Nabokov, and I wasn’t even aware of what mine was called, as the only thing I could think about was how desperately I wanted to comfort him.
I’ve noticed a change in Alex since the end of the tour. He no longer recognises himself; he got lost in between his true self and the character he created during tour. There's something deep inside of him that despises the fact that I can bring out the real him.
I feel the burden of the unspoken words between us hanging in the air like a heavy fog, bringing us down.
Full of anguish, he places his book on the nightstand beside him and fixes his pensive gaze onto the wall in silence, his jaw clenched, losing the ability to cope with his yearning for self-esteem.
Alex gets entangled in his thoughts too often, and I knew if he wasn't writing about it, it was really consuming him.
I turn to face him, witnessing the struggle in his beautiful eyes as he fights back tears, determined not to break. I sit directly in front of him on the bed, holding his face in my hands and caressing his jaw.
I see it in his eyes—the battle between wanting to open up to me and shut me out. He's afraid of letting me in, afraid of what might happen if he allows himself to be vulnerable.
“Alex, tell me how you're feeling,” I softly say.
He remains quiet, but as we continue to stare into each other's eyes with utmost intensity, I know exactly how he's feeling.
That lost little boy look he had. The unspoken pain in his eyes. It’s already breaking my heart. But some things are just meant to be felt rather than understood.
I bury my face in the warmth of his neck, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath my hand as I sit on his lap. I caress up his shirt to his stomach while my other hand grasps his hair, grounding us in this moment of intimacy.
He breaks down into tears as we wrap our arms around each other, embracing one another as tightly as possible. I feel his body tremble as he sobs into my hair.
Not expecting him to break down like this, I start to cry too, knowing how discontent he's feeling and how I just want to help him in any way I can to make him feel better.
"I'm sorry," he whispers, his voice breaking with sorrow.
I couldn't help but to hold his face in my hands again, as he kept his eyes closed with tears still falling. It's as if I dove into the depths of his fragile soul and brought his raw emotions to the surface.
"It's okay; don’t apologise, baby. I love you," I say with a soft disposition but a heavy heart.
“I love you.” A few seconds later, I repeat, accompanied by gentle tears.
He finally opens his eyes, a storm hiding behind them.
He softly says, "I love you too," his voice cracking with a poignant sadness reflected in his gorgeous brown eyes.
I slowly start to kiss him with all the love I possess, and our extremely vulnerable moment of intimacy quickly becomes aggressive, with our tongues both passing through each other's mouths.
We get lost in the pure desire of the moment, conveying our longing for each other through our intense and passionate kisses, consumed by the fire of our love.
I trace my hand from his abdomen to his heart as we both gasp for air, our souls intertwined amidst the lingering scent of sorrow still in the air.
We reluctantly parted lips, locking in a piercing stare that made us both throb as we caught our breaths.
The taste of Alex’s lips lingered on mine as I guided him in removing his basic white t-shirt and black joggers, throwing them upon the wooden floor, leaving him with only his boxers on.
He removes my camisole and silk shorts, leaving me with nothing on. My body was completely exposed to him.
He gets on his knees on the bed, resting my feet on his thighs.
I knew what was coming next, but a part of me didn't even want him to. I would let my cunt drip with need forever if it meant I could please him, but this helps him feel better; it helps him let it out in a way.
He delicately caresses my legs, making tingles race down my spine as he refuses to break his dangerous gaze on mine.
He gradually moves his hands to my feet to gently stroke the top of them before returning back up to my legs.
He lies on his stomach, guiding me to spread my legs as he starts sensually licking stripes up my inner thigh, but with each time he gets close enough to my sopping wet cunt, he stops and licks my other thigh. Knowing that every touch he’s giving me makes me wetter and wetter.
Alex finally gives up this teasing agony to put his middle finger into me, curling it precisely to hit my sensitive spot just right as my head falls back in pleasure, moaning out his name.
He swirls the wetness to my clit with his finger, slowly rubbing it up and down, then inserting it back inside of me while forcefully sucking on my clit as I whimper and moan, trying to take deep breaths to feel as much as I can while still carefully watching him devour me.
Alex moans into my cunt, making me throb even more as he continues sucking meticulously on my clit, shifting his free hand to rub my inner thigh.
It was already overwhelming enough with his skilled mouth nearing me to the brink, but looking into his glassy eyes always heightened my senses, and I simply couldn't handle it any longer.
I feel my body tightening up, and he feels it too, as every part of me shakes, my hips moving all around his lips, feeling his scruff on my wet cunt. I loudly whine and moan, pulling on his hair, letting Alex know just how good he's making me feel. Releasing all of the tension I had, I cum hard on his tongue, making me into a powerless moaning mess.
He stops as soon as I get too sensitive, looking up at me as my release fades and my body relaxes. I caress his hair, giving each other a content look.
Alex soon feels his infallible needs take over his brain. He needs his sweet release that only I can give him. How insanely bad I longed to please him, to make his worries all go away just from my mouth. But he's going to have to wait to be inside of me.
I smile as I gesture to him to lie down on the bed. I pull down his black boxers to reveal his hardened cock, with precum leaking out of his tip.
I suck it clean, then spit it back onto his cock, mixed with my spit. He watches me in awe as I rub it all around the head and base of his throbbing cock.
I hollow my cheeks, sucking his thick cock, focusing on his tip, swirling my tongue around it, and using my hands to rotate the rest of him in rhythm. I watch Alex moan and squirm beneath me, his hand gripping the sheets tightly. With each movement of my mouth and hands, his breathing becomes more erratic, and his body tenses with pleasure and anticipation as I’m determined to give him the relief he needs.
I deepthroat his cock, his hand in my hair, pulling harshly. I try not to choke while massaging his balls with my nose buried in his soft pubes as my eyes start watering from the impact of him in the back of my throat. His little furrowed brow expression and needy moans only motivated me more. I can feel him pulsing and throbbing against my tongue; his moans are now becoming more and more intense. His hand pushed my head further down his cock.
I can feel his release slowly drawing closer and closer, pushing me to intensify my efforts while the sound of his pleasure fills the room.
I pull back to breathe, and I continue to stare into that intense, lust-filled need written all over his face, with loads of spit spilling down my neck and dripping to my tits.
He watches me in complete bliss, mouth open, eyes widening, whimpering like the little good boy he knows he is. The sensation of his gaze on me heightens my arousal, making me want him more, if even possible.
I feel him trying to hold back his long-awaited release. But I won’t let him wait any longer.
I dive back into his wet cock, slurping and devouring his tip like he was my last meal. At last, I feel him right on the edge of his release, putting him as far as I can in the back of my throat.
His body tenses, and he lets out a loud guttural moan before he finally surrenders to the overwhelming sensation of my mouth. I feel his warm, thick cum slide down my throat as I immediately swallow it.
He groans loudly as he cums, letting out a loud and vulnerable moan that the neighbours, for sure, must have heard.
I flick and swirl my tongue along his tip as his sensitivity is heightened, relishing in the taste of his cum. His face scrunches up with his mouth agape, overstimulated. His breathless cries of pleading pleasure intensify with us both out of breath.
I stop, taking a moment to kiss him hard, full of spit, full of lust, and full of love. I look at him to see the desire in his eyes, knowing we both crave more of each other.
I wish I could forever see his eyes half open, rolling back, his mind detached from anything bad, as I give him my mouth, sucking his cock to make him feel better. To fill him up with pleasure is all I need to live.
I place two of my fingers into his mouth as he sucks on them, getting them all wet.
I slowly spit on his hole, then delicately lick at it while sensually rubbing his wet and sensitive tip with my thumb and index finger.
His eyebrows furrow as he continues to let me take over his body, surrendering to me.
I lick around his hole and put my tongue slightly inside of him as he gives me shy whimpers, unable to contain his pleasure as his breath quickens, his cock still sensitive under my touch.
I put my middle finger inside of my dripping cunt to make it wetter, then I push my finger inside of him slowly, feeling him tense up before relaxing into the sensation. A low moan escapes his lips as he gives himself over to the pleasure I’m giving him. Fingering him exactly the way I know he likes it as his little moans start to become aggressively louder. Seeming like he's about to cum again, I don't let him, knowing it just makes him harder when I deny him.
I sit back on his lap with the base of his cock rubbing against my clit. I run my hands through his messy hair, giving him sweet neck kisses as he softly caresses my body, going from my back to my ass, his touch sending me shivers.
Wanting to see and feel him cum inside of me, I push his cock in my cunt, giving in to our needs. The tightness and wetness consuming him as I watch his face explode with pleasure.
Our eyes meet in a haze, deeply feeling each other as I grab the back of his head, pulling on his hair as I ride his cock. His hands grip my hips firmly, guiding me in sync with his sensual thrusts, our bodies moving together in perfect harmony.
Our sweat mixes together from the friction of us rubbing against each other. Passionate and heavy moans come out of us as they coax the room.
We stare straight into each other’s eyes with an unexplainable intensity. I bury my face into the side of his, moaning right in his ear.
As I go to tell him how much I love him, I see tears falling from his eyes. I’ve never seen him cry during sex before. In that moment, I realised the depth of the emotion between me and Alex, our connection transcending physical pleasure. I hug him as I continue riding him with all I’ve got.
With our bodies skin to skin, sweat to sweat, there’s nothing that feels better than this.
His moans grew louder, barely being able to breathe out “fuck,” with his hand rubbing my back, the other wrapped around my waist. He puts his head back onto the wall, body deep in ecstasy, inviting me to put my hand around his neck as I squeeze it, bringing him closer to the edge.
I kiss him sloppily, filled with emotion. He’s melting into me and my body, forgetting who he is. We’re flowing through each other's veins.
Unable to hold back our loud moans, I keep riding him with a slower pace as we get closer, but as deep as I can with my precise moves and grip, feeling every inch and vein of his cock. Loving how he fills me up perfectly, like I was moulded just for him. His pleasures outweighed any thought of mine, urging me to fuck him harder.
Feeling Alex on the brink of release, he lets out a lowly, submissive "Please,” begging me to let him cum as I feel myself nearing the brink as well.
“Let go,” I breathily say, us both knowing there's a deeper meaning behind those words.
My desperate cunt clenched around him even harder with my hand around his neck, foreheads against each other, our bodies tremble in the throes of our intensely powerful release. We both gasp, his eyes fluttering back in euphoria, crying out each other's names in a near symphony. Tears of emotion and intensity stream down our faces. I slowly keep riding him; us both still super sensitive, to the point where it starts to hurt as his soft whimpers fuel my soul.
“That's my baby,” I softly say into his ear.
As we collapse into each other's arms, the room fills with our heavy breathing in sync as Alex and I come down from our high. A sense of deep connection and satisfaction washes over us. I stay with him inside of me for a few minutes, revelling in how amazing it is to feel Alex inside of me, full of him and his cum. We wallow in our weak and relaxed state, hindering any clear thoughts.
We now lie down in our bed, our warm bodies as close as possible, practically hugging. My head buried in his neck close to his jawline, getting lost in his natural scent.
As we lay there, basking in the afterglow, our hearts beat in unison while I wondered what I must've done to be so lucky to have Alex.
And I love him. More than anything or anyone. I love his smile, his body, his lips, his eyes, his gaze upon me, his hands, his body, his mind, and every little detail about him. I love him for who he really is. Behind the mask. Behind the facade. And the way he touches me, how he loves me, how he laughs, how he talks, how he kisses, and how he fucks me.
Sometimes I feel a bit undeserving of being with someone so utterly perfect, yet he's perfect for me.
He's beautiful, emotional, intelligent, mature, sensitive, sensual, sweet, and talented in every way. There's no way I could ever live without him. He’s the air I breathe.
My devotion to him consumes me; I would sacrifice everything, even my life, for him. I mean it with every fibre of my being.
“I'm sorry,” His slow, soft tone instantly brings tears to my eyes.
“I don't wanna be like that to you.”
"You don't deserve to be shut out because of my problems.” He slowly said, stuttering a bit, like he didn’t exactly want to admit it.
I kiss him in response, tasting divinity.
When we first started dating, I never really thought he would be this emotional with me; I thought that was spared for his alone time, just with his piano and acoustic, writing in his spare room.
But of course I want him to keep allowing me to soothe his pain. Even if it is through sex rather than words.
I tenderly caress his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin as he teeters on the edge of falling asleep.
"I love you so much," he whispers softly with his eyes closed.
“I love you more, Al.” I respond, smiling.
Minutes later, I feel his body jump, indicating that he's drifted into sleep. I was so consumed in him that I didn't even realise how tired I was.
As I drift off in his comforting embrace, a sense of tranquility washes over me, my smile fading into contentment.
part 2?
95 notes · View notes
guinea-pig16 · 1 year
Text
Yes, Sir!
Soap x Reader X Captain Price
Disclaimer: This is an NSFW piece! 18+ only, please!
Fic is below the cut, hope you enjoy! This is my first time writing a piece with more than one ship!
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Word count: 3,300+
Warnings: AFAB reader, mentions of AFAB parts, penetrative sex, anal sex, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, threesome (F/M/M), dom/sub vibes
This fic is based off of a dream I had a couple days ago so if you think it's odd, that's why lmao
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Clinks of glasses together filled the air as everyone celebrated a mission well done. Task Force 141 had just completed their latest mission without a hitch, so Captain Price decided to treat the team with a night at their local bar. Laughter and chatter filled the cozy building. You sat at the bar, giggling with Soap, drinking your third beer of the night.
“Ye wouldn’t believe the shite he wis goin on aboot!” Soap leans his head against his arms, shaking from his laughter. “He wis sayin’ shite like ‘two goldfish ar’ inna tank’, an’ one of ‘em goes ‘ye know how to drive this thing?’” Soap’s voice goes deep as he imitates Ghost, and the two of you burst out laughing. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Ghost (sitting next to Soap) glower slightly at him. Your ribs hurt as you try to contain your giggles.
“Right, what’s all this then?” You hear a voice say. Soap and you look up at Price, giving him a half hearted salute as you both come down from your laughter. 
“Ah, Johnny was just telling me something funny that Ghost said!” You smile, still slightly giggling. Price smiles at the two of you.
“I’m glad to see you both enjoying yourselves, even if it’s at the expense of our dear Lieutenant.” You see Ghost roll his eyes and lift his mask to take a sip of his drink. “You all worked very hard on our last mission, you all deserve a bit of rest and reprieve.” You smile at Price.
“Thank you captain! We couldn’t have done it without your excellent leadership.” Price waves his hand, grinning. 
“Ah, it’s nothing without a good team. Anyways, I’ll let you three get back at it.” He waves as he goes over to where Gaz and Laswell are chatting. 
Soap nudges your shoulder and leans close to your ear. “Better be careful thir, Sergeant, he wis given’ ye th’ eyes…” He giggles and you punch his arm, causing him to pull back, rubbing his where you hit him. 
“Oh, stick a sock in it, Mactavish! As if!” You rolled your eyes at his comment. You had to admit though, Captain Price was a good looking man. But you would never get with your superior. 
“Ooo, does ‘at mean yer open to other options, love?” He says in an exaggerated flirty voice as he leans close to you, batting his lashes. You bark out a laugh and shove him back causing him to go into a fit of giggles.
“Once again, stick a sock in it, Mactavish, you dog!” You break into a series of giggles with Soap. In your mind though, you look at him differently. Johnny is definitely a very attractive man, but you guys were just friends. Nothing more, nothing less…
The night flew by. At one point, Gaz had challenged you and Soap to a karaoke contest, and you three treated the bar to a drunken rendition of ‘California Girls’. Let’s just say, you were absolutely hammered. To the point Price insisted on driving you home along with Gaz. You accepted the offer, as you had walked here and didn’t feel like walking back home. Around 1 am, Price dragged you and Gaz out of the bar, yelling goodbye to Soap as he was also being dragged out by Ghost, who was his ride home. He drunkenly waved bye to you as he leaned against Ghost for support. 
Price helped you into the back seat, as Gaz had won the front sit through rock, paper, scissors. The ride to your house was filled with laughter as you and Gaz shared stories and jokes, Price silent the whole time with a soft smile on his face. Once at your house, Price wrapped an arm around you and helped you inside. He gently sat you on your couch.
“Alright, I believe you can handle the rest now.” You grinned and saluted him. He chuckled and ruffled your hair. “G’nite, dear. See you in a few days.” He said before waving goodbye, making sure the door was locked behind him as he left. 
You stretched and yawned. You stumbled slightly going down the hall to your bedroom. You changed out of your clothes and into loose fitting pajamas, before snuggling underneath your covers. You sighed contently as you drifted off to sleep…
Bang.
You jolted awake. You looked around. You were still in your bedroom, snuggled in your blankets. You groan and roll over, attempting to go back to sleep. 
Bang.
Your eyes shot open once again. You slowly lean up in your bed, looking towards your bedroom door. What was that? You think. You hear more small bangs and rustling from down the hall. Slowly, you crawl out of your bed, grabbing your phone, and inch towards the door. You wince as your door creaks when you open it. You hear the sounds stop.
You exit your room as quietly as you can, and begin inching down the hall. You reach the end of the hall and peek out towards the living room. Your heart sinks as you see two, large, black figures facing you. You squint slightly. Something about the figures seems… familiar. You hold up your phone and turn on the flashlight and shine it into the living room. You almost sigh in relief when the light reveals Soap and Price standing in your living room. You then furrow your brow. What the hell are they doing here?
You step into the living room, and take note of the open window. Did they fucking climb through the window? “What the hell are you two doing here? It’s the middle of the night.” You cross your arms and glare at the two of them. They both glance at each other and grin as if they’re in on a joke.
“There she is…” Says Soap, taking a small step closer to you. You don’t know why, but you take a step back, feeling uneasy about this whole situation. Price smiles at you, an unreadable look in his eyes.
“Don’t run love, it’s okay…” Price says quietly, and you shiver slightly from the tone of his voice. Soap takes another step towards you, you take another step back. He and Price rake their eyes unabashedly up and down your body, causing your cheeks to heat. They take in where your night shirt has slipped down your shoulder, exposing your bra strap, where your pajama pants have sagged slightly, exposing your hips. Soap groans slightly at the sight, making your face heat even more.
“God love… Ye have no idea what ye do to us…” Soap takes another step forward, you take one backwards. He starts slowly stepping closer and closer, and out of apprehension, you walk slowly backwards back into the hall, inching towards your bedroom. Soap begins speaking in a low, husky tone.
“What ye were wearin’ tonite almos’ ‘ad me an’ Price bend ye over the bar…” You blush furiously. Soap eyes haven’t left yours once, practically burning a hole through your head. “Ye always look so intoxicatin’... The way ye sway yer hips… The way yer lips look when ye smile…” He groans lowly. “Yer a damn drug… ye know that?” His pupils are blown wide, with what you can now identify as lust. You go to take another step back, but trip on your own feet and drop your phone. You fall flat on your ass and are helpless as Soap stands before you. He crouches slowly, eyes never leaving yours. He grabs a hold on your ankles and yanks you so you’re underneath him. 
He leans down next to your ear and speaks low. “...We’re gunna fuckin’ ruin you tonite, babes…” Your whole body shivers at his words, and your face flushes red. He looks into your eyes, searching for anything that would say no. You look back at him and bite your lip lightly. He grins and slowly drags you out of the hall by your ankles, his eyes burning into your own. When you enter the living room again Price is still standing there, and you lock eyes. 
Soap drops your ankles and leans over you once again, arms caging you in. “What a pretty girl ye are…” And presses his lips to yours in a searing kiss. You let out a soft moan into his mouth, and wrap your arms around his neck. You feel him move to the side as you see Price get down on his knees and lean over you, pressing a kiss to your neck. You feel his hand drift down to your waistband.
“How about we take these off, love…” Price’s hands toy with your waistband. Soap breaks the kiss long enough for you to whisper out a breathy ‘yes’, before recapturing them. He slips his tongue into your mouth as Price presses kisses along your neck and slowly slips your pajama pants downward. 
He tugs them completely off and slips down so he’s facing your underwear. Head in between your thighs, he presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh, causing you to let out a moan into Soap’s mouth. Soap’s hands begin slipping underneath your night shirt and upwards towards your chest. 
“May I take these off, dear?” Price asks, finger hooking underneath the waistband of your underwear. Soap breaks the kiss and asks with his eyes to take off your shirt. You breathily say yes to both, and feel your underwear being slipped off as your shirt is lifted above your head. Soap’s hands find the clasp at the front of your bra and looks at you asking. You nod, and he unclasps your bra and admires your exposed chest, before recapturing your mouth. He kneads your chest as you feel Price moving closer to your exposed heat.
“You look absolutely wonderful, love…” Price groans and licks a strip up your heat, causing you to moan into Soap’s mouth.
“That’s it love, keep makin’ those pretty sounds’ fur us…” Soap says, breaking the kiss to gaze into your eyes. Price wraps his arms around your thighs as he sucks on your clit. You gasp and squirm as he prods at your entrance with his tongue, his mouth hot on your sex. Soap takes off his shirt and grins as you rake your eyes over his chest. “Like wit ye see, lass?” He then buries his face into your neck and gently bites as you arch your back to Price’s work. 
“Doin’ so good for us, pretty girl… Gonna make sure ye can’t walk in the mornin’...” Price groans in agreement, sending vibrations into your heat. You shiver and whine as Price laps at you. You feel a knot begin to tighten in your lower belly. Price moves his efforts to your clit, and you feel one of his fingers prod at your entrance. You moan loudly as you feel his finger slip into you. You feel Soap grin against your neck. 
You gasp as Price pumps in another finger, stretching you out. You clutch onto Soap like a lifeline as your thighs shiver, causing him to chuckle.
“Careful now, Captain, ye don’ wanna break her now do ye?” If you could, you’d glare at him, but the feeling of Price’s tongue and fingers has your mind practically melting. Price says nothing, he just doubles his efforts, pumping faster and sucking harshly on you. You moan loudly, the knot in your belly tightening significantly. You’re so close. 
“Johnny… Price… ‘M so close, ah!” You slur out, your whole body trembling in pleasure.
“I know dear, I can feel ya. I’ll take care of you, don’t you worry your pretty little head…” Price says, before returning his efforts to your bud. Soap recaptures your lips in a heated kiss, his hands brushing over your chest. He sucks on your tongue, and the knot gets tighter and tighter. And then it snaps.
You moan loudly into Soap’s mouth, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Price slows his efforts and helps you down from your high, your whole body shaking from it. Soap breaks the kiss and you gasp for air, chest heaving. Price finally pulls away from you, and you glance up at him, his beard glistening from his work. He and Soap glanced at each other and began undressing in front of you. Once stripped to their boxers, Soap and Price switched. Soap knelt between your legs, and Price knelt behind you, gently sitting you up and leaning you against his chest. Soap gently rubbed your thighs and looked you in the eyes as he removed his boxers. His cock sprung out and your eyes widened as you took in its length. He grinned and grabbed your legs.
“Liking what yer seein’, doll?” You rolled your eyes at his comment, and flicked his shoulder with your hand. Price and Soap chuckled and he began positioning his shaft to your entrance. He looked in your eyes for any objection, but you just nodded and whispered it was okay to continue. Nodding, he gently pressed his tip to your entrance, the both of you letting out a soft groan. Slowly, he pushed into you, making him curse at your tightness and causing you to lean your head back on Price’s shoulder, who leaned down and kissed your cheek.
“You’re being such a good girl for us, dear.” He whispered in your ear, causing you to shiver. Soap bottomed out and stayed there for a moment, huffing. Slowly, he pulled out, and then thrusted back in, making the two of you gasp. A delicious burn traveled through you as he gently thrusted in and out. The burn gave way to immeasurable pleasure as you let out moan after moan for each thrust. 
“Johnny… Fast- Faster… Please…” You moaned, head laid back on Price’s shoulder. 
Soap chuckled slightly, groaning. “Anythin’ ye want, pretty girl.” He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you to his chest, sitting up. And then he began pounding into you, causing you to cry out. He huffed and moaned into your ear, holding you close. The knot in your belly formed again and tightened slowly, making you curl your toes. 
“Aww, Price… Yer lookin’ awfully lonely over there…” Soap cooed, grinning. He stopped thrusting into you and you whined at the loss of friction. “Easy there, lass… Thought we should include our Captain… Whit’d ye think, love? Should we?” You dumbly nodded your head, wanting more than anything for Soap to continue pounding into you. You heard Price groan lowly, and the sound of clothes shuffling. Then you felt hands grabbing your ass, and a finger poke into your hole. You gasped at the feeling, and moaned as Price pumped in his finger, stretching out your entrance. You tucked your head into Soap’s neck, and whined as Price put in another finger, then a third.
“There’s a good girl… Doing so good…” Price whispered in your ear, making you whimper. Price removed his fingers, and you felt his cock tease the entrance of your ass. “This is gonna be a bit uncomfortable, darling. Don’t worry, I’ll take it slow…” Price kissed your neck, and slowly began to push in. You winced slightly at the stretch, and Soap pressed a kiss on your head and rubbed your back soothingly. Price gripped your waist like a lifeline, and hissed as he bottomed out. The three of you sat there for a moment as you caught your breath, adjusting to the feeling of the two men inside you. You’d never felt so full before.
Finally, after a couple minutes, you spoke. “O-Okay… You can… You can move now…” You wrapped your arms around Soaps neck, face still buried in his neck. You felt Soap smile into your hair, and Price rubbed your waist affectionately. They both slowly pulled out and pushed back in. The air was filled with low groans and breathy moans as the two men slowly pumped into you. Your nails dug into Soap’s shoulders.
“Ah… Faster, please…” You moaned, feeling the knot tighten once more in your belly.
“Ye sure, babes? Don’t wanna… hah… hurt ye…” Soap groaned. You heard Price make a noise of agreement. You whined slightly.
“Please… You won’t hurt me, please… I need more…” Soap and Price groaned at the sound of your neediness.
“Whatever you want, love.” Price said, before the two of them began harshly thrusting into you. You practically screamed at the feeling. They both moaned loudly at the way you clenched around them. 
“Thas’ it, thas’ a good girl. Takin’ us so well.” Soap groaned in your ear, lightly biting your earlobe. All you could do was moan in response, brain turned to mush by the two men. You were sandwiched between them, being used as their own personal fuck toy. And you love it. It was a dream come true. You felt their thrusts become sloppy, their moans stuttering slightly. You could feel your own release coming as well.
“Johnny, Price, So- So close! ‘M gonna, ah!” You moaned. You felt one of Price’s hands come up and grip the back of your neck. He pulled your neck back so you were looking at him.
“Go ahead, come on our cocks, love.” He pulled you into a heated kiss. You whined into his mouth as the knot got tighter and tighter. Soap threw his head back, his thrusts getting even sloppier, and he let out a slew of curses.
You let out high pitched moan after moan, the knot getting unbelievably tight. Any second now… You were almost there. Your head felt lighter and lighter, and a ringing started in your ears, washing out the moans of Soap and Price. You were so close. It was about to snap, you were so close you could taste it. And then it snapped and-
BDING!
You jolted.
Your eyes popped open and you squinted. Sunlight filtered into your room through your curtains, hinting it was early afternoon. You sat up, looking around, blinking quickly. Everything was in place from last night, your clothes laying on the floor. You looked down. You were still in your pajamas. You scratched your head, confused. You crawled out of bed and walked down the hall, hesitantly. You peeked into the living room. It was normal. The window was latched and closed. There wasn’t a pillow out of place.
“What the fuck…?” You mumbled. Was that all… a dream?
BDING! 
You turned your head back to your bedroom. Was that your phone…? You walked back to your room and grabbed your phone.
You had a couple unread texts from Soap.
You opened your phone and read his shitty typing. He was asking if you wanted to come hangout with him, Ghost, and Gaz today. They were going to see a movie and then walk around town a bit. 
“Ony if yer not so hammered from last nite lol.” He typed. You rolled your eyes and texted back that you’d meet up with them at the movie theater. A couple minutes later, he texted back with the time they’re meeting. You agreed and said you’d see them there. You then sat your phone on your bed and stared at the wall.
Memories of your dream drifted back into your mind and you blushed slightly. What was that all about…? You didn’t have any feelings for either of them… you thought you didn’t at least. You shook your head. You only had a couple hours before you had to meet up with the others. So you took a cold shower and changed into a casual outfit.
You walked down the hall and glanced at the living room, your dream drifting to the front of your mind. Your face flushed and you shook your head once again, trying to clear it. 
With that, you grabbed your keys and headed out, making sure to lock your door behind you. Hopefully, you could forget about it today.
What a weird fucking dream.
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Thanks so much for reading !!!! This was my first time writing a threesome, so I hope you liked it !!! I was giggling and kicking my feet the entire time while writing LMAO !!! It was such a weird dream, I'd never had one like that before. And funny thing is, I was reading COD fics before bed that night but it had NOTHING to do with Soap and Price, so I have no clue why they showed up. Anyways, thanks for reading !! Ciao!! <3 <3
XOXOXOXOX <3
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gor3sigil · 2 months
Text
Detransition - My Story
[CW for Domestic Abuse, S*xual Abuse, Social Detransition, Misgendering, Alcoholism]
Recently, I watched “I Saw the TV Glow”, and it blew me away.
The ending really made me want to tell a story that happened to me.
Between the end of 2020 until the end of 2021, I detransitionned, mostly socially as I hadn’t started transitionning medically at the time. I did so because of many factors, and I never really wrote about it in details or reflected on it deeply as it was a very hard time for me. But I think that I now have enough hindsight as to why it happened and how it affected me to be comfortable sharing.
So, 2020 was a crazy year for everyone. I was in a T4T poly relationship, living with my partner of almost 5 years and started to go out with another trans dude. Long story short, because this isn’t about this, but I got into a physical altercation with my living partner during quarantine after years of emotional and verbal abuse, financial manipulation and isolation. I had to flee and live with my boyfriend for almost 8 months after leaving. And it was hell on earth.
I tried to not make a big deal out of what happened, but the fact of the matter was I had no place to call home, I was separated from my cat because she couldn’t live with us as my boyfriend’s place was a one room student flat and we struggled to live both of us here, and I had very little money due to not being able to work because of Covid.
What happened next to me leaving was constant harassment for weeks, the people whom I called friends siding with my abusive ex, and I felt so defeated. I couldn’t go back to my local trans community out of fear, and the community that I still had I struggled to trust again. I was supposed to start HRT before Covid hit, but it was cancelled. I got so much shit for just telling my story because so many people treated it as “slander” to accuse a trans woman of abusing me. I had receipts but never showed them, to protect her and myself. While she hurt me, she still was in a vulnerable position and it was out of the question to put her in danger. Let’s just say that I didn’t receive the same treatment in return and got lied about, harassed and bullied by people who thought she could do no wrong.
I started to totally lose trust in the community I used to feel safe in. And one day, I met a cis man. I talked to him, we got a coffee, he invited me to his place later, he got drunk and SAd me.
Two weeks passed, two excruciating weeks during which I felt so far away from everything and everyone, I coped by smoking a lot, I was in a deep dissociative state. I was disgusted, I felt so betrayed, I felt like I had no safe space. I still can’t explain why I did what I did, but after these two weeks, I still had the hoodie he handed me to go home, and I decided to meet him to give it back and talk.
He gaslighted me, using the fact that I was mentally ill to prove that I must have imagined what happened, and I believed him.
Meanwhile, I started getting nasty comments from my boyfriend and his friends for going out with a cis man.
Let me say that again.
My boyfriend was not upset that I was putting myself in danger, that I was starting a relationship with someone who had abused me, that I was in deep distress and not trusting anyone from my community anymore so I basically ran the other way, in the polar opposite way, with someone who treated me like a woman and called my desire for top surgery “mutilation”. What he was the most upset about was that I was going out with a cis man.
I became a running joke.
And when I told him that I had slept with my new boyfriend, he told me that I had “slept with the enemy”.
We had a two weeks break, after which I broke up with him for good. I had my own flat, and I was so fucking traumatized about what had happened with my ex and the vitriol I received for my new relationship that I decided it was enough. I was trying so hard to fit in my local trans community, that barely supported me when I got abused, and now what was left of it shat on me for going out with a cis man, it was the last straw.
For a year, I was having the most isolated relationship I ever had.
J, my new boyfriend, was my world. He told me that I thought I was trans out of fear. That it was a lie. That I just was scared of being abused again so I decided that to become a man was to be safe, but it was not. That all I felt was internalized misogyny I could work on, find my inner feminine self again and be happy as a woman. And I believed him. Oh, how I trusted him. I was not even in my mid twenties yet and he was in his early thirties, he must know better. I started using my deadname and feminine pronouns again. I bought dresses, skirts, even wore make up on occasions.
For a year, I killed myself. Slowly but surely. I was a full blown alcoholic, the relationship was becoming more and more abusive and isolating, I spent most of my time with him, most of the time we were drunk, most of the time things weren’t consensual, and it became my new normal.
I was retraumatizing myself. Relieving things I lived in the past because I felt so betrayed.
I had no friends left, the only one I still had didn’t hear about me until the end of my relationship with J. One time I saw her in the street, I was drunk, and J corrected her when she called me “he”. Said it was “she” now. And I said nothing.
We were in a poly relationship, and after the one year mark, after a few traumatizing hookups with random dudes on Tinder, I found my current partner. And when I started to get treated like I deserved to be, I started to snap back. I started fighting back when J acted out, I started seeing the dark place I was in.
Two things made me realize how bad I had been lying to myself.
The first one was a TikTok trend, the one with the song “My Little Dark Age”. The first time I saw a trans man doing this trend with photos of him being himself, then going back to the closet, and in present times, out. “Just know that if you hide, it doesn’t go away”. I sobbed uncontrollably for hours after seeing it.
The second one was one time, drunk, with my partner, I was telling them about the “time where I was trans”. And I was telling them about binders, and offered to show them how it was when I was wearing it. I had thrown away everything I had related to being trans in a cardboard box. I took it out and put it on. Looked at myself in the mirror. And burst out in tears. My partner hold me while I said in between sobs: “how could I do this to myself ?”, “it feels so right, why does it feels so right ? I though I’d be happy as a woman !”. And I cried and cried and cried.
Two weeks later I changed my name again. 2 months after, I broke up with J.
I wanted to tell this story as a cautionnary one. I know that I failed myself. But I can’t help but think that I was also failed in a way. By my community, by the spaces I was in both online and IRL. I am not blaming the individuals. This isn’t about “detransition”. This is about care.
This is a reminder to care. To be kind.
I don’t regret what happened. It’s part of me now. But sometimes I can’t help but wonder how things would’ve turned out if, instead of making fun of me for going out with a cis man, my then friends would’ve asked me kindly why I decided to go out with him. What changed in my mind between the night he SAd me and now. Or just offered a shoulder to cry on. What would’ve happened if I had been offered support for the trauma I was going through, if I hadn’t been told that in the end, J had won, he “have gotten what he wanted”.
“Why is it always so easy for cis men, to get what they want ?”
And in these statements, I became an object. A “want”. And I think that’s one of the main reason I lost every ounce of trust I had left in people who swore they were on my side and had my back.
You may not understand why people make some decisions. But please, before any politics get involved, remember than whose around you are people. Human. With complicated and sometimes conflicting feelings. Flawed. And worthy of your understanding.
This is about not letting politics and theories make you forget to care for one another, to protect each other, and to be here. It can change everything.
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solaria-creates · 19 days
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Hello, my dear friend 🌟
I am Mahmoud Jihad from Gaza, currently living in a flimsy tent after my home and university were completely destroyed, along with my PC and my city. I was studying Information Technology while caring for my sick father and siblings, but now all my hopes seem shattered. 😢
As we face this devastating crisis, I am raising funds to help my family escape from Gaza and to continue my studies abroad 🎓. Every day is a struggle, and your support can make a significant difference in our lives ❤️.
My GoFundMe campaign has been verified by @beesandwatermelons ✅ #190.
Please consider sharing, liking, commenting, or donating, even a small amount 🙏.
Your help could be the turning point that saves my family and helps us survive in this harsh and relentless war 😔.
GoFundMe link: https://gofund.me/463cbf01
Thank you from the bottom of my heart! 🌹
Please go support Mahmoud Jehad's campaign in any way possible!! Whether that be reblogging this post, donating whatever you feasibly can, contacting your local politicians about ceasefire, or spreading the word in your circles, we can all do our part to help these people experiencing something I can barely fathom. Below is the description pulled directly from the linked gofundme, please read and reblog!
Currently $2,341USD raised of $25,000 goal
Help Mahmoud Jehad and his family to leave Gaza to study and escape the Gaza war .
My name is Mahmoud Jehad, and I am a 21-year-old from Gaza. Like many others, my life was turned upside down due to the ongoing conflict in my homeland. I am currently displaced in Deir al-Balah after my home in Khan Yunis was completely destroyed along with my entire city.
Before the war, I was a student pursuing a degree in Information Technology at Gaza University. I had dreams and aspirations, but everything changed when the university was bombed and all classes were suspended. Additionally, the airstrikes not only ravaged my home but also destroyed my personal computer, which I relied on for my studies and staying connected with the world.
Now, I am living in a makeshift tent in a displacement camp, with nothing but a thin layer of fabric to protect me from the elements. The situation is dire, as my father is sick and my brother is undergoing treatment, leaving me to care for my family while struggling with my own challenges. We have been without water, electricity, and access to healthy food for the past 10 months. I feel a deep responsibility to support my family and help rebuild our home in Khan Yunis, even though we currently reside in the makeshift tent community.
Despite these hardships, I refuse to give up on my education and future. I believe knowledge is the key to rebuilding not only my life but also my community. Unfortunately, I lack the resources to continue my studies outside of Gaza, where I could access better educational opportunities and safety.
I have created this GoFundMe campaign to seek your support. Your generous donations will assist me in leaving Gaza to pursue my education, enabling me to acquire the skills necessary to help my family and our home in Khan Yunis recover from the devastation we have faced.
Every contribution, no matter how small, will make a significant difference in my life. Your kindness can help me turn my dreams into reality and bring hope to a shattered future.
Thank you for taking the time to read my story and for your support. Together, we can make a difference.
With gratitude,
I am Renee Hassert, living in USA, and I am running this campaign to raise funds for Mahmoud and his family. I will transfer the donations to his Palestinian bank account after receiving them.
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thenightfolknetwork · 9 months
Note
Ever since I was young, I was raised to be a total blank slate. No interests, no aesthetics, nothing. I was meant to be the vessel to L’Gogamet, the Hallowed One. So, that meant I had to fully give myself over to Them.
The only problem is: They never bothered to show up. I sat there, on my eighteenth birthday, waiting for Them to rend my soul from my flesh, only to receive a burning blaze of light reading “sorry, can’t make it, save the next one for me.”
My family wasn’t exactly thrilled. They were under the impression that I had done something wrong, though for the life of me I have no clue what it was. And now, I’m all alone. I have no clue what I’m meant to do.
I have a small apartment and a roommate. I’ve tried to get interested in the same stuff she likes, but it honestly just doesn’t appeal to me. But I have no clue what there is that I do like. Apparently, outside of my family, there isn’t exactly a “L’Gogamet fanbase”, and that was the only thing I was allowed to be interested in for my whole life.
I’ve gone to support groups, but sitting in a circle with other blank slates doesn’t exactly feel helpful. And then when someone does find something interesting, I’m like “wow! good for you! time to go back to doing nothing with my life.”
Worst of all are the modifications. My family took it upon themselves to alter me in a few ways, various piercings and tattoos that They should have loved. Only now, I’m stuck with them. And most of them are cursed to never be removed. I’ve been called out a few times, told that they’re “appropriative for a Sapio like me to have.” That hurt more than most comments, because I guess that’s all I am now. A Sapio, with nothing special about me except the disgusting markings all over me.
Your show came up in one of the support group meetings. I thought maybe you would have some advice? How do I find my interests and my self when I’ve been raised to be a nobody?
I'm so sorry your family have treated you with such unkindness – and I don't only mean their failure to support you after their plans went awry. It was profoundly unkind of them to raise you the way they did, as if you were nothing but a vessel for their hopes and aspirations and not your own person.
Their treatment of your body is particularly upsetting. I am certainly not going to try and tell you that your markings aren't “disgusting”, or to tell you how you ought to feel about your own body. I do encourage you to take whatever steps you feel appropriate in reclaiming your body, however.
Part of this reclamation might involve covering or removing the marks inflicted on you by your family. But I encourage you to experiment with other ways of changing your appearance, too. Play around with your clothing, hairstyles, hair colour, make-up – whatever you can think of.
The point isn't to find a style that you love, but rather to demonstrate actively to yourself that this body is yours, your own, and that finally, you are in charge of how it looks.
Of course, this process does bump up against your initial question rather. How are you supposed to know what sort of choices you want to make when you've never been allowed to make that kind of choice before?
The answer may seem obvious: you need to try as many things as you can, and expose yourself to as many new experiences as possible. But for the time being, I want you try and set aside your concerns about finding what you “really” like.
That is a huge amount of pressure to put on yourself, especially when you're starting from scratch, like you are. Instead, go into these activities with no more pressure on yourself than a sense of open curiosity.
You're not on some great quest to discover your True Self – you're just popping into the local book club to see what it's like, or borrowing some knitting needles from a friend and giving it a go. You can check what clubs and events are running at your local library, and make a game of trying as many as you can fit into your schedule.
Give yourself time. Imagine your personality as a plant that has been left in a dark, cold room with nothing to feed it and no light to help it grow. Against all odds, it has survived – pale and stunted, but alive. Now imagine you bring that plant into a warm, bright room, you feed it and water it, and above all you give it the space it needs. Who knows what kind of beautiful thing it might blossom into?
Finally, a word on your identity. Reader, you absolutely don't have to identify as sapio if you don't want to. There are plenty of people who consider themselves to be people of the night based on their magical practice, their religious background, or their occupations. You personal experiences more than qualify you to do the same.
As I've said many times before, liminality is defined by the people who claim it. There isn't an external, objective standard of “strangeness” that you have to meet in order to be a member of the community. Anyone who says otherwise is at best dangerously ignorant and at worst, wilfully so.
[For more creaturely advice, check out Monstrous Agonies on your podcast platform of choice, or visit monstrousproductions.org for more info]
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London Will Burn - Chapter Nine.
As promised, better a little late than never! :)
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Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight
Tag list - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed
Words - 3,290
Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI.
London docklands. It was a different view than he was used to, but in the last three months after finally gaining some capitol back after the quick sale of his former home, splitting the profits of the townhouse mansion between himself, Billy and his mother, it was all his. Out of the four million he’d received from the sale, he’d spent three on the Canary Wharf penthouse, the view absolutely stunning.  
It was the first time he would be living alone, Sean considering moving Billy in with him purely out of the need to keep an eye on him, his elder brother refusing on account of the fact that he felt that it was long overdue he find his own feet in the world, continuing with his sobriety and being able to support himself, neither answerable any longer to the iron fist of their father, or the duplicitous deviance of their mother. 
Sean had meant what he’d said. He did not want a relationship with Marian going forward, so quite simply, had not sought one. Her continued protests to attain the contrary had fallen on the deafest of ears. He’d moved on, gladly without her. 
“Hello, mister Sean!” The bright chirp of Dara, the girl who manned the orders at the fairly local Thai takeaway he had a fondness for made him smile. She recognised his number instantly now, since he called almost every night to order dinner. It was nice to be remembered, even so casually. “The usual for you, yes?” 
“Yes please, darling. A bag of spicy crackers as well.” 
“Oh, I love when you call me darling! You such charming man, mister Sean.” At least somebody thought so. “Thank you for order, can I take card details?” 
They were about the only place he could think of that did not set themselves up with outfits such as Just Eat or Uber Eats, nor could you order online. Dara’s grandfather apparently did not believe in the internet as a viable option for ordering, only beginning to accept card payments at a push from his granddaughters who assisted in running the family business. Well, he was ninety-two, rather happy to be set in his ways at that age, Sean didn’t doubt. 
Ending the call, he stripped off his suit, turning the corner lamp on in the lounge and heading to the laundry bag, his boxers, trousers and shirt going in, ready for the woman who did his washing and ironing for him to collect a day later once the end of the working week rolled around. Hanging up his jacket, he then strode to the bathroom, turning on the shower and stepping in, ready to wash away the long, arduous day.  
Schmoozing with investors was always the task which befell Alex Dumani, the man who had once been like a brother to him. He enjoyed it, had the patience and poise for it. For Sean, while it was true that he possessed the kind of charm that meant he was entirely capable of such, he loathed having to kiss arse to those effectively paying his wages. Very, very generous wages, returning him to the life of opulence he’d always been accustomed to.  
Life at the top. The echo surrounding it was unmatched in its vastness. 
Before, he’d had his family around him, mum, dad, brother, his sister too whenever the bitterness between her and Marian had allowed, Ed and Alex, Shannon and Danny. In his rising from the ashes, he was a lone phoenix. Sporadic contact with his brother and sister, and no real friends to speak of either. Dressing in his pyjama bottoms and a t shirt, he did consider calling Billy, hand reaching for his phone. He then remembered that Thursdays were his narcotics anonymous meetings. 
His old life had been fractured beyond repair, the bonds and threads pulled apart with such savage vigour, it was impossible to stitch them back together again. Too much damage come undone, he could succinctly coin it. He had both everything and nothing. 
Once his food had arrived, he ate while watching a documentary on the Roman empire, washing it down with a few glasses of good red wine before heading to bed at 11pm. He was then up at six, in the gym by half past, out of there at seven thirty and in his office by 8am.  
He often thought it was by Catherine’s obvious desire to remind him of his place that she’d hired new office space for the Wallace Corporation right in the direct eyeline of his old business premises, the large tower housing the offices of Dumani Finance visible clearly from his much smaller location. Her desire to rub salt in his wounds showed no sign of abating. 
“Coffee, a green smoothie and they had these there, too. Blueberry and peanut butter protein slices. They’re really very nice,” Minnie spoke, entering his office after knocking. Nostalgia had prompted him to hunt down his father’s former secretary, the woman who had gone on to work as his own too after Finn’s death and bring her back into the fold. That and she was the most well organised person he knew.  
“Appreciated, Minnie. Thank you.” He took the items with a smile, watching as she pulled out the iPad she’d juggled under her arm. “How is my day shaping up?”  
Consulting his diary on the screen with a few swipes, she began. “You have a meeting with Helen Ford and Omar Mand at 11am, preliminary discussions with the consortium for the new apartment complex in Richmond at 1pm, 2pm you’re scheduled for a telephone meeting and after that, your day is free.”  
A free day from mid-afternoon, and absolutely nothing to do with it. Again.  
It was as he was leaving his second meeting, passing by the gates of Richmond Park that afternoon and seeing an abundance of dog walkers that an idea suddenly came to him, a way he might both cure his loneliness and take up a little more of his time. After his 2pm meeting was finished, he called his driver, his destination Battersea.  
“And you say you’ve kept dogs before, correct?” 
“Family dogs, yes. This will be the first of my own, though,” he spoke to the girl showing him through the kennels there at the dog's home, Sean not impressed by the main variety of either gargantuan, hairy dogs, or small, yappy types.  
“And how much time do you have to devote to its needs?” 
“Plenty. I can take it to work with me so it isn’t alone during the day, save when I am in meetings. Suffice to say, the girls in my office will give it all the attention it needs when I am not present.” More dogs not to his liking passed by, the girl keen to stop and show him some kind of crossbreed chasing his tail in a circle when Sean moved to the next kennel. 
There he was.  
Sitting there upon a knitted blanket looking pissed off, his tail began to thump as he heaved himself up and trotted over, his lopsided underbite meaning a few of his teeth stuck out from under his floppy jowls, only one lower canine poking out prominently. That face. He was both handsome and hysterical, with the sticky out teeth. 
“Hello, big lad,” he spoke, the dog sniffing his hand as his tail began to speed up. “Bored stiff, are you? I know the feeling.” 
“So, this is Butch. Two years old, British Bulldog crossed with a Staffie, very well behaved but with a bit of a stubborn streak. He tends to sometimes be a little impulsive or has moments where he’ll only do things on his own terms or not at all, so he needs further training.” 
Oh yes. Sean had found his dog. With a home check passed, a generous donation made to Battersea and a plethora of dog necessities bought, it was just over a week before Butch was sniffing around his new abode, finding a patch of dust and succumbing to the most hilarious multiple sneeze fit Sean had ever heard in his life.  
“Fluff up the nose, fella?” he asked, Butch grunting at he looked up at Sean in an accusatory way, seemingly pissed off to have been laughed at. That only entertained his new human even more. “Shall we fire the cleaning lady? Come here, you have bits stuck on your teeth.” 
Cleaning him up, he scratched the crinkles upon his head, Butch leaning into the fuss. He then ambled off, springing up onto the sofa, circling before lying down. 
“Butch, get down. You’re not allowed up there.” 
Grunt. 
“Oi, get down, you ignorant twat.” 
Grunt. 
“Get down.” 
Grunt.  
He had to physically take him by the brand-new collar and gently steer him in the direction of the floor, the dog sitting at his feet as Sean took his place, resting his chin upon his knee with, yes, another grunt.  
The no Butch on the sofa rule lasted all of three days. The no Butch on the bed rule five, Sean finding himself awoken every morning by the presence of a large head coming to rest upon his neck. And a grunt. Always a grunt. 5am was his new time to rise, taking Butch for his hour-long stroll before going to the gym, heading home to collect the dog and then taking him along to the office, where just as he’d predicted, he was always greeted warmly by the girls who worked there. 
Warmly greeted and spoilt rotten.  
“Where did you get that?” Sean asked, watching the dog come pottering in with a treat in his mouth, hanging from under his snaggle tooth. “Has Minnie been spoiling you again, hm?” The dog ambled to his bed, happily chewing away while Sean conducted his first meeting of the day, a Zoom call Catherine had told him he had to partake in between himself and a couple of associates, before he would be out to meet with Luan to concentrate on less above-board dealings.  
“So, Catherine still has you by the balls?” the very Albanian himself asked, once their business had been concluded, walking along a narrow stretch of dockside where the clandestine meet had taken place.  
Sean’s eyebrows fluttered momentarily, attempting to find a way to put a spin upon it that at least marginally saved face. “Somewhat.” 
Luan snorted. “Bullshit. That woman will not stop with her venom. I know women like her well, my friend. Once wronged, they are like vipers. They will bite on hard and not stop until every drop of poison has seeped out.”  
If there was a better analogy of the situation, he was yet to hear it. Sean couldn’t help but note the trace of obvious affection for their new overlord in his voice, though. Well, at least one of them found the execution of her retribution entertaining. “Kevin would be nothing but proud of her, that is for certain.” 
“This is true,” Luan mused, scratching his beard. “He was the king of giving people what they wanted, but only on his terms.”  
Oh, how she had inherited that well. While the two men walked back to their waiting cars, the topic of their discussion was strolling down the small, gravel topped pathway through Hanwell Cemetery, her destination the Cavanagh family crypt. Both her grandparents were in there, as well as a man she truly, and with such a raw, aching heart still, wished was not. 
“Hello, daddy.” Her hand smoothed over the stone that interred his body, thumb stroking the white marble lovingly there in the crypt, Rin sighing as tears prickled her eyes. Twenty-five was truly no age to lose a parent.  
Fuck cancer. 
It was surprising to her, though, that it had been the mutation of cells which had sounded the death knell for her titan of a father, rather than a bullet or some other nefarious means of dispatch. “I know you said no fucking flowers, but I love the fucking flowers, so shut up. Happy birthday.”  
She placed the single tiger lily down upon the cold marble, sniffing as she wiped her tears away with her other hand. They’d always been her favourite flower, Kevin often buying them for her on his way home, and roses for her mother. Diane was a sucker for a red rose, hence why Rin had a bunch of two dozen long stems in the car as a surprise. She knew his first birthday parted from them could be painful for her.  
Her own pain washed a tide of grief through her insides all over again, Rin closing her eyes for a moment, her usual fortitude zapped away by the memory of losing him. It was still so fresh, only three months on. She then snorted laughing suddenly, remembering something crude, inappropriate and utterly hilarious he’d said in his final days. 
“I’ve got to improve a little bit. I need to reach my sexy sixties, innit? Go and knob your mother one last time!” 
“Dad!!” 
She and her brother had nearly died. He was another whose presence she missed, Christopher up in Glasgow at university, wanting a life as far away from criminality as he could get himself. Her sisters, Georgie and Jess where also absent, both at boarding school, their parents thinking it best and safest in recent years, with how much of a turbulent battleground London had become, all things gang related. 
That battleground had finally come to cease, with her leading it all, just as her father had helped her facilitate all that he could in his last months of life. “You’re tough, you’re mentally sharp as a razor, and you ain’t scared of shit. You’ll rise and stay risen, my girl. You ain’t no Sean fucking Wallace, ain’t about to fuck it all up without your old man there watching over you, like he did. You’ve bloody been arms dealing to some of the most formidable criminal fractions on this planet. Trust me, you’re a force to be reckoned with.”  
While they shared their similarities, Rin was thankful that her father saw the clear distinction. Sean was not on her level. Not any longer. 
Kissing her fingertips, she gently touched the marble. “Love you so much, dad.” Quickly checking her reflection in her power compact, she returned it to her handbag after making sure her face wasn’t tear stained, walking back out to her Range rover, where Sokoro was waiting for her. Luckily, the rest of her afternoon was planned to do something much more enjoyable than having to visit a crypt, to pay her respects to a man who should still have been there with her. 
A short way across London, and Sean was up to his own enjoyable pursuit, taking Butch out for an afternoon at St James Park. It took forty minutes to drive there, but it was a large, open space the dog seemed to very much enjoy, so in Sean’s mind it was worth it. Plus, it was beautiful, a very relaxing surrounding to walk through. Certainly, it was much less noisy and metropolitan than Canary Wharf, too.  
“Butch, don’t eat that. No... for fuck’s sake.” If it smelled good, he ate it, and to Butch, a discarded piece of sausage roll from British pastry giant Greggs was definitely worth snaffling as quickly as possible. “Look at the state of you now.” He brushed the crumbs from his dog’s face, entertained as ever at the single snaggletooth that stuck out.  
“He’s so cute! Look at him and his tooth!” A young woman gushed upon approach, Butch immediately entering flirtatious mode, tail wagging, the rest of his body joining. “Aren’t you a lovely boy, eh? Look at you, awww!” 
Sean smiled thinly while she made a fuss of Butch, asking all the usual questions. Age, breed, melting when she discovered he was a rescue.  
“Oh! A rescue baby! What’s his story?” 
His... what? Oh. The reason he came to end up in Battersea. “He was found as an unchipped stray.” 
“Oh my goodness!” she squeaked in disbelief, lavishing a very content Butch with even more fuss. “I can’t believe someone let such a lovely dog go stray! He’s gorgeous, just like his dad.”  
It was still something he was getting used to, the fact that his cute dog meant he now found himself engaged in small talk, something he’d never been all too fond of. He was so uncomfortable with the notion, the fact the woman had subtly been flirting with him before departing sailed right over his head.  
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he moaned, shaking his head. “She meant me.” He closed his eyes; glad it was only his canine companion there to witness the shame of it warming his cheeks. “I’m losing my bloody touch.” Looking down at his dog, Sean smiled, watching him stare back intently, his soft ears flopped backwards. It was as if he understood every word. “Apparently, I’m your dad. I merely assumed to be your mate, if I’m honest.”  
Woof. 
“Oh, we’ve progressed from grunts to soft barks, have we?” 
Woof. 
“Shall we work on your recall? Would you like to retrieve this if I throw it?” 
No barks followed him reaching into his pocket for a tennis ball, the dog instead pinging in a series of excited leaps. “No running off to hump bitches either. If I’m not getting any currently, then neither are you.” 
He could improve upon that quite easily; he knew he could. For a start, he could take up the offer of going for after work drinks with some of the men who worked for him, rather than remaining aloof and sequestering himself within his office until late. That would mean being social with people he didn’t especially like, though.  
Unclipping the lead from his harness, Sean watched Butch spring into action after hurling the ball across the grass, still contemplating his lack of human interaction. He knew in order to cure it, he had to be a little less standoffish and open himself up to the idea of building something of a meaningful life for himself. He would never be the suburban nine to five type, but there had to be some kind of happy medium for a man who walked the fine tightrope between businessman and gangster.  
Building was what he did for a living; rebuilding his life surely couldn’t be that unattainable. 
“Butch, come here!” he called, his dog becoming preoccupied by the presence of a pigeon. For once, rather than attempting to decimate the feathered critter, he listened, grabbing his ball and hurtling back across the grass, dropping into the outstretched hand awaiting him. “Good lad.”  
While walking the path, his eye was caught by the back of a familiar head, Rin sitting upon a bench across the other side of the park with her mother, both deep in conversation. He considered approaching them, but knew his attempt to be cordial likely wouldn’t be received well by either woman, loathed by Diane and her daughter alike.  
It was as Butch was running back again that he saw Rin stand, waving cheerily at a young child of around six years old who ran to her, the giant Sokoro walking along behind her, carrying a cardboard tray of hot drinks purchased from the nearby vendor.  
His feet firmly rooted to the spot as he watched her pick up the little girl, smoothing her silky, strawberry blonde hair and placing a loving kiss to her head. Grasping on around her mother’s neck, her gaze found his, and they were his own eyes looking back at him. 
In a heartbeat, a mere moment, his entire life had spun upside down. 
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Can you guys re-imagine the culture(s) of the Chasind?
Hey anon!
That's a fantastic suggestion! Our campaigns have been taking place mostly in northern Thedas, so we didn't even have Chasind people/Kocari Wilds on the map yet, but you're so right. I didn't know much about the Chasind before reading up on the Bioware Wiki (BW for short) and.....yooof.
We'll definitely do a more thought-out and 'official' entry, but since a lot of our re-imaginings move at a snail's pace, I'll share some of our immediate thoughts after discussing this:
Geography:
It's giving BIG bayou vibes, and we're taking that and running with it, nodding at inspiration of early Black-American culture that emerges in the southern USA and the greater Caribbean Islands. Visuals of the Florida Everglades and Bayou Bartholomew in Arkansas, with a majority of the villages being built on stilts or the massive trees that are similar to the ones seen in the Frostback Basin (Jaws of Hakkon DLC specifically). There are settlements on more solid land, but most of the population and the 'civilians' live inside the swamp, as the tricky terrain doubles as protection and security.
The People:
Based off the BW, we're seeing patterns of love for nature and the seasons, and the mention of "animalistic goddesses" is making us think....DND druid style. (we took one look at the "barbaric" descriptions and tossed it all out, thank you)
Animal companionship is common among Chasind, whether they are "working animals" that warriors and hunters may keep that help them in their tasks, or companions for your local shopkeep or fisherman. Big or small, smart or.....lovable...animals are all around and children may even receive their companion at very young ages, growing up with their animal friend.
Some more magically gifted Chasind can even transform and take an animal form.
Chasind are bonded by clan systems, not blood or background. Meaning that if someone needs help in the village, people will band together to support that person. Once you settle in the swamp, you're family.
The Chasind have a large population of people with darker skin tones, but people with lighter skin tones are not uncommon either.
The Culture
Being situated on top of it, of course, water is EVERYTHING.
Navigating the bayou is no easy feat, and children are taught from a young age through legends, stories, and all sorts of oral histories how dangerous the water can be.
There are definitely some pretty cool eldritch beings living out in the swamp, and there are definitely stories about them.
Fishing culture is HUGE. Fishermen are taught a very sophisticated type of navigation and tracking, most commonly using the stars as a guide to chart the swamp, because the landscape can be incredibly difficult to navigate, especially after dark.
According to the BW, the Chasind have "developed their own language, but are capable of speaking the King's tongue", so we took this as they've managed to blend an older language like the one spoken by their Alamaari ancestors and merged it with the King's tongue (not unlike real-world languages, such as Haitian Creole, Jamaican Patois, or Michif)
People also traverse the swamp on stilts to keep out of the water and out of the way of other water predators. Whether they are walking across the village or going out to the fishing holes to get a daily catch.
Please feel free to add your own comments or thoughts on this re-imagine! This entire project is a joint effort, and having perspectives from other backgrounds is always helpful to make it more inclusive.
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All our support to Dani Gallardo, Spanish young man sentenced to prison for his solidarity with Catalonia
Dani Gallardo was 22 years old when took part in a demonstration held in Madrid (Spain's capital city) in solidarity with Catalonia, right after the Spanish Supreme Court sentenced a group of Catalan civil society leaders to prison for their involvement in the Catalan independence movement. The demonstration also stood against the brutality of Spanish police against Catalan people and in solidarity with Catalonia's right to self-determination. It was the first time that a demonstration like this was held in Spain (outside of the occupied nations like the Catalan Countries, the Basque Country and Galicia), and the protestors were met with police violence as well. (At the same time, on the other side of the square, there was a counter-protest organised by a fascist group who opposed the solidarity protest and rallied in favour of the indivisibility of Spain. That one was not attacked by the police.)
Dani Gallardo tried to help his friend Elsa, a young woman who was being violently reduced by 5 anti-riot policemen at once. Then, the policemen beat him up and arrested him and Elsa. In total, 4 protestors were arrested that evening. That protest happened on October 2019, and since then Dani's life has changed completely.
All the detainees were insulted and threatened with violence by the police, and Elsa (being a woman) was constantly sexually harassed and insulted with misogynistic insults and very vulgar sexually explicit comments that I will not replicate here. Dani kept shouting to defend her, so they beat him with a stick with nails on the head. He says that Elsa was the one who got beaten up to a worst condition, but in the end Dani was the only one who wasn't freed.
Dani spent more than a year in pre-trial jail, while waiting to be judged by the Madrid Provincial Court. Then, he was freed on probation but, later, he was sentenced to 4 and a half years of prison for "basic public disturbance" and "attack against authority", because a policeman says Dani hit him. He appealed this decision but now (June 1st 2023) the court has confirmed the sentence, and Dani will have to go to prison.
The trial was a joke. The policemen declared things that contradict what happened, or pretended they hadn't seen anything. The doctor's report that was used to claim that Dani had attacked a policeman was signed at 9:30pm in Plaza del Sol hq, when he was arrested at 10:45pm at Tirso de Molina. This shows that the police had decided that they would accuse someone of this crime even before they arrested anyone, and then went out to look for some protestors who they could blame for it.
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More than 4,200 Catalan people have been repressed by the Spanish courts since September 2017 for their involvement in the independence movement. This number includes people who have gone to court with many different outcomes, from prison sentences to more commonly fines, and also people who have been arrested and retained by the police, some of whom have denounced being tortured. Dani's case is unique because he isn't Catalan himself, he is Spanish. But this didn't save him, because the Spanish State has wanted to make an example out of him: this is what will happen to any Spaniard who dares to stand in solidarity with the peoples oppressed by Spain.
Dani has talked about why he supports Catalonia's right to self-determination. Dani is an anarchist, he doesn't believe in states, so he believes that everyone should have the right to self-determination and understands the want to get away from Spain and its fascist institutions.
He has also talked about the support he has received since he was arrested. He has received lots of support from Catalan people at all levels, from all kinds of social organizations and local assemblies to many individual people who sent him letters, and politicians who have him their support. On the contrary, he denounces he hasn't received any support from Spain (only a small support from the Madrid anti-repression movement at first, but they never followed up), and has not even heard a word from the Spanish "progressive" political parties. In fact, during the time he was out on probation, he moved to Catalonia because it was the only place where he knew he'd find help and solidarity.
We are very thankful to Dani, Elsa and everyone else who has showed their support.
Other sources used for this post: interview with Dani on Vilaweb (23/07/2022), 3/24.
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nerdygaymormon · 1 year
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Catching up with Elder Kevin Hamilton
A few days before my trip to Utah, I felt inspired to give Elder Hamilton the book which contains a chapter I wrote. I immediately had an anxiety attack, but went ahead and ordered the book, summoned up my courage, and offered the book to Elder Hamilton.
After explaining the aim of the book, he said he looks forward to it, he likes reading others' perspectives. <whew>
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I mentioned Elder Hamilton's talk at BYU in January and the loud criticism it received. I asked how it felt to experience all that. He spoke about how no speech he's ever given has gotten so much attention, and that he also had people send him encouraging, supportive notes, so all in all it's fine.
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We moved on and the topic of transgender people came up. Elder Hamilton quoted the Handbook that we approach trans people with "an abundance of Christlike love." That's where we start! Err on the side of love, which is the way the Savior was. From there we will sort out any issues.
He mentioned a child who is going through some gender issues, and I replied that if it's a phase, then just let them go through the phase, and if it turns out not to be a phase, then that's that.
The older he gets, the more he concludes that our job is to love everyone unconditionally, to keep the commandments to the best of our abilities, and let God reconcile all things. Everything will be made right through Christ's atonement, every hurt gets healed and every injustice corrected. We should trust that the Lord loves His children.
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Elder Hamilton mentioned that he doesn't see me as an advocate, rather I'm a good listener and a good student of people. I study and observe and I'm not quick to judge. I take the longer view of things with a patience that all will work out.
Elder Hamilton brought up the test in Moroni chapter 7--that which inviteth to do good is of God. Then said that the Lord puts me in places, over and over, where I can make a difference, where I can be a force for good. He sees me try to lift others and to be a blessing to them.
We spoke of Affirmation and my new role being on the Board of Directors. He said this will open a bunch of doors for me as it will introduce me to a bunch of people and a chain of events will naturally occur. He's interested to see what happens.
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Elder Hamilton says that he's heard people say that the Church pushes people out, but that's not what he sees from the Seventy, apostles or First Presidency. He's not wired in at the local level, so maybe there's some of that going on.
I responded that I have a lot of privilege in my stake, I've been in stake callings for 11 years and so I'm pretty well known. Yet I still have to deal with a few situations every year and I gave him a few examples. I know I'm treated well where I live, but these kinds of things still happen.
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Elder Hamilton asked if I'm committed long term to living in Florida. I shared with him how I wound up at the university where I work at because 20 years ago it was one of the few places with partner benefits and I knew I'd be safe if they found out I'm gay. Many advances have taken place since then but it feels like we're going backwards and things are becoming less safe. Those who want to not be nice feel emboldened.
Elder Hamilton commented, "Well, Utah is an option!" and mentioned the Church's support for the Marriage Equality Act and that Salt Lake City is very gay friendly. Elder Hamilton has recently moved and his neighbors across the street are a gay couple and they've become best friends. He & his wife consider them the best neighbors in the world.
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Elder Hamilton asked if I served a mission and I shared the story of praying to know if God could love someone like me, and feeling that I'm loved and "not broken."
He replied that one of the most destructive things people believe is that they are damaged goods, that I am not good enough. That's not true! All are alike unto God--black & white, bond & free, male & female, straight & gay.
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One reason I share on my blog about my encounters with General Authorities is so people can see how I, a gay man, get treated. I also want to share how they talk about queer topics with someone like me.
Mostly we know these people from when they speak in General Conference. They talk about doctrine and policies, and can seem harsh. I'm treated well, even by some who have a reputation for being a hardliner. Only twice have I had a bad experience. One of them mailed me an apology, the other changed his behavior and we've become friends.
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beardedmrbean · 11 months
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Progressive politicians and local Michigan Democrats are increasingly distancing themselves from Rashida Tlaib after she defended the use of the controversial pro-Palestinian phrase "from the river to the sea."
On Friday, the Democratic representative for Michigan, who is of Palestinian descent, described the chant as "an aspirational call for freedom, human rights, and peaceful coexistence, not death, destruction, or hate."
"From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free," is a phrase commonly voiced at pro-Palestinian rallies. However, it is contentious because it implies support for the dismantling of the Israeli state, as it references the Jordan River on Israel's eastern border and the Mediterranean Sea to the west.
Hamas, the militant group which staged a surprise attack on Israel on October 7, killing an estimated 1,400, including many civilians, adopted the slogan following its formation in the 1980s, and some Jewish groups say it amounts to antisemitism—though others contest this claim.
Since her public defense of the phrase, Tlaib, who has attended pro-Palestinian rallies and is among those to call for a ceasefire in the current conflict between Israel and Hamas, has been challenged on her remarks by fellow progressives and state party officials.
On Sunday, Bernie Sanders, a senator for Vermont who has championed progressive values, told CNN that while Tlaib was his "friend," that "slogans like '[from] the river to the sea,' if that means the destruction of Israel, that's not going to work."
He added: "People who are saying: 'Israel, right or wrong, we're for you all the way,' that's not going to work [either]. This is a horrendously complex issue."
When asked about whether she agreed with what Tlaib had said, Pramila Jayapal, a U.S. representative for Washington state and chair of the Congressional Progressive Caucus, told MSNBC that she was "not willing to say," but that her colleague was "not the first person to say this."
On Saturday, Dana Nessel, Michigan's attorney general and a Jewish Democrat, told Tlaib that while she had "supported and defended you countless times," her comments on this occasion were "indefensible."
"This is so hurtful to so many," she said. "Please retract this cruel and hateful remark."
Noah Arbit, a Jewish Democrat state representative, said that it was "disturbing and enraging" that the Jewish community in Tlaib's constituency were being represented in Congress by "someone who adopts wholesale the call for the state of Israel to be wiped from the map."
Jeremy Moss, a Michigan state senator who is also Jewish, said of Tlaib's remarks that "this is not how Jews view the phrase." He added: "The words of our congresswoman enflame the tensions here in an already tragic conflict."
Newsweek approached Tlaib's office via email for comment on Monday.
The phrase has received renewed scrutiny as pro-Palestinian protests around the world have grown in response to Israeli military intervention in Gaza, where Hamas is based. To date, the Hamas-run Gaza Health Ministry says over 9,700 Palestinians have been killed, mainly in airstrikes.
The Anti-Defamation League (ADL), a U.S. hate watchdog, described the chant as "an antisemitic slogan" as it "den[ies] the Jewish right to self-determination, including through the removal of Jews from their ancestral homeland." It said that usage of the phrase can make Jews "feel unsafe and ostracized."
Others deny the chant always amounts to hate speech, though. On October 20, London's Metropolitan Police said that while it could "envisage scenarios where chanting these words could be unlawful, such as outside a synagogue or Jewish school, or directly at a Jewish person," in the context of a protest it "would not be an offence and would not result in arrests."
However, Suella Braverman, the British home secretary, who is responsible for policing, wrote on X, formerly Twitter: "The slogan was taken up by Islamists, including Hamas, and remains a staple of antisemitic discourse. To hear it shouted in public causes alarm, not just to Jews, but to all decent people."
A pro-Palestinian protest in Austria was banned by police last month as the chant was mentioned in invitations, Reuters reported, However, one pro-Palestinian legal organization recently claimed that an appeals court in the Netherlands had ruled that it was "subject to various interpretations" and did not necessarily relate to Jews.
Amazon has recently come in for criticism for continuing to allow the sale of merchandise bearing the slogan on its platform, while last month, students at George Washington University faced backlash for projecting it, along with other messages, onto the wall of a library.
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Rashida Tlaib's 'From the River to the Sea' Post Sparks Outrage
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waybeforeyourtime · 7 months
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i agree with much of what u said that people need to have boundaries etc but comparing a legitimate stalker who is a very extreme case that required police involvement to fans saying that a celebrity gives them a reason to stay alive is honestly pretty messed up. I get ur point that it may be a lot of pressure to SOME celebrities But other celebrities have shared that it makes everything they do worth it to know that it gives someone hope and something to look forward to in a really dark world. Especially for queer youth many of which really struggle with their mental health the portrayal in young royals and also omar and edvin being vocal in their support really does mean a lot to them as it does to many of us who are not even teens anymore. So your judgement and telling people to seek mental help is honestly quite insensitive. I do agree with you about people harassing celebrities and not respecting celebrities but you also made a lot of assumptions and a lot of judgements toward people who are really struggling linking them to someone committing multiple crimes that is a bit unfair. I wasnt going to say anything but it has really been bothering me as someone who works with queer youth.
I didn't compare what happened to Bradley. I used that as a jumping-off point to explain why you shouldn't judge anyone for stepping away from socmed.
Read it again.
And you contradicted yourself. You say these fans who have unhealthy parasocial relationships with these actors have mental health issues and then say I'm insensitive for saying they need to seek mental health help.
"I wasnt going to say anything but it has really been bothering me as someone who works with queer youth."
Listen, credentials on the internet mean zero. You could be lying. So.... and I was a queer youth. I also worked with queer youths. And, imo, they need to start hearing these things from adults. They're isolating themselves in echo chambers of online fandom culture, and they are being raised to believe they can dump all of their problems on another unwilling person.
They can 100% love their fav, bestie, mother, father, or whatever they want to call people. But they have to learn to understand that the relationship is one-sided. That their fav owes them nothing. That their fav exists as a human being outside of being their fav.
"I get ur point that it may be a lot of pressure to SOME celebrities But other celebrities have shared that it makes everything they do worth it to know that it gives someone hope and something to look forward to in a really dark world."
Yes I'm sure being asked 'what size is your penis' really gives someone hope in a dark world. Or being harrassed to come out publically. Or having your bf receive threats online. Or having fans invade a restaurant that you're at with friends. Or having a fan from another country happen to just show up at your local market.
That's just some of what has happened in YR. If a fan isn't part of harassing people online or making them feel uncomfortable*, then my post wasn't about them. And, if they are, then I stand by my statement that they need to look at their behaviors online.
* Edvin asked people not to comment about his physical appearance, and it never stopped. If you think the people talking about that toxic behavior are the problem, then you are part of the problem.
Also, those SOME celebrities who say they really enjoy socmed will usually always add something like, "the majority of fans are cool BUT..." And I could give you several examples of those who have said that and then eventually went off socmed, driven off by fans.
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harrysmaison · 2 years
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I recently crossed 1k followers on this hellsite and I know it's not that big a deal but I needed an excuse to rec fics so bear with me.
These are my top 10 fics that I think you guys NEED to read. They're in no particular order, only 10 of the fics that I read recently and really liked! Some are old, some are new but all are equally deserving of attention and appreciation. Please check them out, and don't forget to leave kudos and supportive comments!
Happy Reading! 💞
🍂 Desires for Woolgatherings by isolated/ @theisolatedlily (E, 86.5k)
In the midst of his second world tour, Louis Tomlinson receives the devastating news that his former bandmate, Harry Styles, is in critical condition after an unfortunate accident. Fresh with the loss of his mother and his sister, Louis’ world darkens once more as he flies out to California, preparing for the worst. There, Louis is faced with the ghost of his past, realizing the hand he played in the band’s division. As time goes on, Harry’s condition becomes dire, and his only chances of survival forces Louis to participate in a makeshift, illegal drug trial orchestrated by a dubious neuroscientist.
🍂 Keep Driving by dead_tobeginwith (M, 2k)
Louis works as a driver contracted through the local cancer institute. All of his clients are associated with the hospital—mostly patients and their families heading home. One rainy afternoon, he picks up Harry.
🍂 Went down in Flames by hazzahtomlinson/ @itsnotreal (E, 26k)
Louis was in an absolutely shit storm. He had let it go on for too long. Let it go too far. But he had a plan. And tonight, said plan was going down. He was going to tell the boys he was proposing this weekend. ‘Harry’ would turn him down, albeit gently, and Louis would play the heartbroken boyfriend. He’d gotten this far. All he had to do was lock himself in his bedroom and cry a little. He’d been in a few plays growing up. Piece of cake.
Except. It didn’t go that way. Of course, it didn’t. Because the universe, the beautiful chaotic bitch that she was, just had to have an actual Harry Styles and he just had to be Niall’s best friend.
🍂 ti dedico le autostrade che portano al mare by me_her_themoon/ @greeneyesfriedrice (E, 87.6k)
Louis goes on hiatus for six months to a small coastal town in Italy where he doesn’t expect to fall in love with the charming baker
🍂 into that goodnight by devilinmybrain/ @thedevilinmybrain (E, 62k)
Once upon a time, there was a boy. But not just any sort of boy. This was a clever boy, the cleverest of them all.
🍂 The Lesser King by HelenaAzure (NR, 8.5k)
Louis goes off to war leaving Harry on the throne. But Harry has a dangerous secret of his own. With time running out and his health on the line, will Harry break and tell Louis, or will he consume the dangerous poison of insecurity destroying everything they have.
🍂 Through Darkest Clouds by LadyLondonderry/ @londonfoginacup (T, 3.7k)
Orpheus and Eurydice AU (MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, sad with happy ending.)
🍂 Don't Go In The Woods by guccikings/ @harryeatsburger (M, 39k)
the one where Louis has the brilliant idea to go camping alone and unprepared. Luckily, he meets Harry, who is very much prepared and happy to help out. Unluckily, they aren’t as alone as they think they are.
aka the spontaneous camping trip from hell.
🍂 Don't Worry, Darling by amomentoflove/ @daggerandrose (E, 27k)
Frank and Shelley Harper are the founders of the Victory Project-- a place for his employees and their spouses to live, to work, and to enjoy themselves while keeping safe from the outside world.
Louis and Harry Styles are the newest inhabitants of Victory, but when Louis begins to question his reality, he has to rely on himself and his husband to find out the truth.
🍂 From this moment on by therogueskimo/ @bravetemptation (NR, 52k)
Louis Tomlinson needs a tour photographer, and he thinks he's found the one in the mysterious H on Instagram.
Harry Styles swore he'd never do tour photography again - that is, until he did.
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