#i just... don't feel like myself at all with anyone else??

[werevampiwolf]

Yeah. At 19, I was finally diagnosed with autism and as unable to live independently without years of occupational therapy and my mother said "fuck that" and threw me out of the house two days later. She'd fought the doctors my entire life to stopbe from being diagnosed, because then that would mean there was something "wrong" with me.

I was homeless for over a year. I'm no longer homeless, mostly due to getting very very lucky with circumstances outside my control (like the fact that I was young enough and had been homeless long enough while continuing to take classes at the local community college to qualify for a government grant for Unaccompanied Homeless Youth, which allowed me to get an apartment. And i was only able to take classes because I was poor enough that the classes were free, and because i had a broken laptop and it never got stolen AND i already knew how to fix computers so I was about to Franken-Computer it into it being and staying at least slightly usable AND the fact that the nearest Starbucks was understanding and didn't throw me out or call the cops when I spent hours in there to do coursework), so my mother takes this as a win. Obviously, the doctor must have been wrong because when I was forced to sink or swim, I've stayed alive (very literally in this case).

I would argue that even now, going on a decade later, I'm not so much "living on my own" as I am "barely surviving", but I try to make it very clear, both to her and to people I tell this story to, that the problem with "Sink or Swim" is that people who sink fucking DROWN.

Because even as someone who was forced, and who managed to just barely keep my head above the water... I'm a very staunch opponent to the idea of Sink or Swim. What I had to live through was horrible, and I wouldn't wish it on anyone else. But not only that, I was very acutely aware that my only options were to figure it out or to quite literally Die.

As someone who survived the extreme of the other side of this coin that OP is talking about... the idea that I or anyone else could manage to survive such circumstances and then turn around and insist that the ends justify the means is both baffling and appalling to me, though I know that it very much happens. I cannot see it as anything other than "I suffered, so you should have to suffer too." It's awful to be on either side of this coin, and if you think it's okay for force people to Sink or Swim, whether you've been in that situation or not, than you can fuck right off with that shit.

Side note, I'm someone with support needs on the higher end of medium. I still can't manage to brush my teeth independently, and I don't manage to feed myself consistently, though I at least manage to do it often enough to get enough calories in me to stay alive (and that's ignoring anything other than calories that make up a healthy and balanced diet, because that's not an option for me. It's eat whatever junk food I manage to get into my my mouth or starve). I have to rely on schedules, because my brain doesn't really understand what hunger feels like. I just eventually feel like I'm going to throw up, and if I'm lucky, my brain figures out that I haven't eaten in all day and that's probably why. But there are days when, even if you put a plate of food in front of me, it wouldn't occur to me to eat it. I will just sit there and stare at it (or into space) without outside promoting to eat. I maybe manage to take out the trash or do laundry every two weeks if I lucky, and sometimes it's only once a month, or less. I have plastic bottles that haven't been taken out in at least six months, and probably closer to a year. Perhaps the only reason I can see the other side of this coin is because I basically live as close to edge as is physically possible without going over the edge, but I really hope that's not it. I don't think people should have to be constantly teetering on the knife-edge of this reality to understand that It's Really Fucking Bad to force people to Sink or Swim, or as I prefer to call it, Survive Or Die.

I don’t think people understand how it is to have been behind on EVERY milestone. Learning how to walk? Late. Learning to read? Late. Learning to use the bathroom independently? Late. Every single milestone was late.

And when you have this, people ask questions. People bully you. Why can’t you shower by yourself at 9,10,15,20? Why can’t you brush your teeth independently and frequently? Why can’t you tie your shoes? Why can’t you do math? Why can’t you do this, or that.

And then there’s the people on social media. “Well I was forced to.” “Well I didn’t have a choice�� and that’s understandable and completely valid, but there are people that no matter how much you force them, or neglect them so they “figure it out” they won’t “figure it out”. They’ll die. They’ll starve. They’ll not bathe and be dirty.

Higher support needs people don’t just “figure it out” our brains are wired differently. Our brains don’t get that we HAVE to do these things just to survive. So we don’t. And that sucks.

It’s disheartening to constantly hear people say “well i was forced to” because so was I!! I was forced to do things too! I was neglected too! And guess what? I still didn’t do those things. I STILL wasn’t able to meet those milestones.

The big one that I see is “well I’m forced to talk.” And I get that, but me, a person that’s nonverbal, can’t be forced to talk. No matter if I’m neglected, no matter if my device is taken away or I have no way of communication. I still wouldn’t be able to talk. I CANNOT force myself to talk. Get that through your heads. This is my reality, and although yours sucked there are still some people who cannot do things, and saying that they could if they were “forced” is invalidating of them.

[ineedpaigebuckets]

team movie night and they all tease pazzi for being cuddly and flirty

she knew

warnings: smut!!!

an: LONGER ONE. not as good as i hoped. but let me know what you think and give me some more requests. more small blurbs coming either today or tomorrow!!

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todays a movie night. my favorite. i love movie nights. but something about this one just isn't hitting the same. i'm kinda nervous, my breathings just a little bit off, and i can't seem to get comfortable. me and paige are on a small couch by ourselves while everyone else is scattered across the room. the movie isn't very scary but it's a thriller action movie. i cant sleep after watching those. i hate guns, every time a gun goes off it takes everything in me not to flinch. paige notices, of course she does, she's my best friend how could she not.

"az, you okay? not comfy?" she asks quietly a hand placed on my arm stopping me from changing my position for the hundredth time.

"mhm, m'fine." i yawn and meet paige's eyes, even in the dark the crystal blue of her eyes is showing.

"what times it?" i ask watching her pull out her phone and show it to me. 10:00, late for me.

"late for you isn't it?" she teases making me shake my head. she'd always known me better than anyone else. god she was so perfect every single thing about her was undeniably perfect.

"i don't like this movie." i whisper making a face when another gunshot goes off. paige know, of course, we have movie nights just the two of us all the time and she knows when it's before i go to bed, it needs to be a cute romcom or cartoon or something. and she always agrees.

"i know, you know what come here." she positions herself to sit sideways with her back against the arm rest opening up her legs for me to lay between them on her stomach. i give her a look almost asking if she's sure before curling up on her stomach. my hand flattens against the soft skin exposed by her shirt riding up and i move i to her side rubbing my thumb across her skin. i'd always had this nervous habit whenever i was anxious to rub my thumb across someone's thumbnail it always helped me calm down.

"nervous?" paige asks as she gives me her hand. i nod and start to gently rub my thumb across her nail. of course she knew, she knew everything about me. i'd always wondered, what if we were more than friends. i'd always wished we were. before i can close my eyes to really relax kk decides she has other plans.

"aww azzi sleepy!" she coos as she walks over to take a picture of us. i groan and place my hands on paige's stomach to slide myself up hiding my face between her neck and the couch. paige's hand holds my head close to her while her other slips against my bare back under my t shirt.

"kk, come on it's late. leave her alone." paige groans at kk and it just causes kk to scoff. and turns to ice.

"bro look at them." she grins as she points to us. i just huff against paige's neck.

"kk please. she's tired." i smile against her skin as she stands up for me. it's cute i admit. kk sulks away and slumps back down causing me to ease out of her shoulder a little. i place my head on her chest but of course our position isn't quite perfect. her thigh is between my legs. i know she can feel the heat radiating off of me when she quickly jerks her leg away from mine. fuck. that's embarrassing.

"az?" she asks almost asking for some sort of signal i know what she's gonna ask. her eyes are wide and almost desperate. fuck. she had me wrapped around her finger.

"yeah?" i whisper in a soft voice my chin resting against her chest. i didn't realize just how close our faces, our lips were until she started talking and i felt her breath on my lips.

"how you feelin?" the second her breath is on my lips a shiver runs through me and my hand slips under her shirt again making her let out a soft whine. i'd never heard her make that sound before. if flipped a switch in me. im gonna make her make a whole lot more sounds than that.

"paigey can we go to bed?" i give her big puppy eyes but she can see the hint of possessiveness underneath them as my hand drifts further up her bare stomach. she lets out a small nod. i've never seen her like this, she was always in control always loud and cocky. i didn't know i could get her so submissive like this. i press a soft kiss against her jawline before getting up and stretching.

"paige and i are going to bed." i groan tiredly as i walk past everyone and into paige's bedroom with paige following right behind me. the second we're alone her hands slip around my waist from behind maneuvering around me to push me against the door. her hand splayed out over my stomach.

"az." she whispers as her lips ghost my ear. there she was. cocky dominant paige was back. but when i had a mission, it was gonna be done.

"lay down." i hiss moving my head to the side leaning it against the back of the door.

"such a princess." she whispers not moving an inch. her teeth graze my ear nipping at my lobe gently.

"my princess." she pulls away to look me in the eye her thumb brushing my bottom lip. she thought she had the upper hand. and after that nickname, she just might.

"fuck." my head leans back as i close my eyes. before i know it her thighs slipped between my legs, her hand is on my neck, and her lips are on mine. so many thoughts were running through my head but they were all over powered by her. her. paige. my paige. before i can think her tongue slips in her mouth and her hand moves to the back of my neck to deepen the kiss as much as she can. i subconsciously move my hips against her, grinding against her leg.

"fuck az." she whispers against my lips as she fumbles her hands form to the hem of my shirt.

"imma take this off m'kay princess?" she knows what that nickname does to me already. i close my eyes with a nod lifting my arms up so she can slip it off her fingers slipping under the band of my sports bra.

"wanna get you paige. please." my last ditch attempt at trying to take control. i wanted to get her right so bad. something flipped in her eyes when she heard my voice.

"do you?" she whispers as her fingers dip into the waistband of my pants over the fabric of my panties. it's almost like she's gonna let me, but her actions say otherwise.

"i'll let you." she whispers huskily as she pulls off of me and throws her shirt off and across the room.

"whatever you want princess." my hands are on her jaw and my mouth is on hers within seconds pushing her towards the bed.

"get on the bed." i push her gently not enough to make her fall but enough to give her the hint. she falls submissive under my touch laying on the bed with her legs spread just a little.

"so perfect." i whisper slipping her basketball shorts off to leave her in boxers.

"gonna get you so right." my voice soft as i trail kisses down her stomach. i fucking love her abs and she knows it. she bucks her hips up just a little signaling to me.

"az." she begs her voice almost panting as i slip her boxers down.

"i'll be good. wont make you wait." my lips press a soft kiss against her bare clit before leaning back up to kiss her.

"tell me what you want." i press my lips to hers as. wait for an answer.

"fingers, mouth, you azzi, want you." her words send a jolt through me. my fingers slip through her dripping wet folds as i connect my mouth back to her clit.

"s'wet for me huh baby." i grin into her my fingers just slipping into her curling into her as i lick her skin softly. she lets out a gasp as i move my fingers in and out. she's wiggling underneath me within seconds.

"fuck az. so fuckin perfect for me." i hum against her lettin out vibrations against her. the soft whines coming out of her mouth make me crazy. i feel her closing around me and i meet her lips with mine.

"you close?" i ask softly, she was such a gentle person why not return the favor. she doesn't even talk she just nods and squirms under me.

"s'okay i gotchu. come on let go for me." the second i give her the go ahead her band snaps and she's letting herself go all over my fingers. it's beautiful.

"so beautiful paige. oh my god." my hands come up to my mouth as i lick them clean, making pure eye contact with her the whole time. i feel her eyes widen. my hands find her cheeks as i rub my thumbs against them softly. she lets out a soft smile but as soon as i'm about to speak she's ontop of me ripping my panties off before i can even speak.

"gotchu." she grins placing kisses along the inside of my thighs. before her tongue slips through my dripping wetness. i'd already been fucking dropping for her. the second her nose pushes into my clit her tongue dips into me. my hand flies to her head holding her as close to me as i can.

"fuck paige- cant wait." i whisper, she knew. she always knew, even if we'd never done this before she knew. she grinned against me before fucking her tongue into me faster.

"s'okay princess. whenever you're ready." there it goes. the name princess fucking did something to me i couldn't imagine. it was dirty, everyone called me princess but with paige it was different, everything was. there i was gushing against her tongue. she licked up every drop before laying on my chest.

"so fuckin perfect." she whispers and we just lay in silence for a while taking in eachothers embrace.

"paige." i whisper a few minuets later. she looks up at me with her big blue eyes.

"i love you." i whisper, it wasn't like we'd always said it. it was different. she knew it. as always.

"i've loved you for years az." her lips brush my jawline in a sweet slow manner.

"just waiting to make you mine." i bring her lips to mine. i didn't know what to do. but she did. she knew.

"always gonna be yours" she whispered, all the words i needed. i smiled against her lips.

"always yours paige." and that was the start of something new. but was it really new when it was paige and i. no. because she knew me. more than anyone else. she knew.

[misayani]

HONEY (R U COMING?) — SE-MI (PLAYER 380)

◜ pairing ... se-mi / player 380 x  fem reader

◜arrogant and bratty reader (044) recruiting se-mi (380) for the second game

𔗨 author's note — wasn't seeing enough fanfics for my baby so ... [lowercase intended]

"i dont see anyone else that's good enough for us" you hear gyeong-su comment with a huff. 

you're currently standing with three idiots—thanos, gyeong-su, and nam-gyu, slightly distanced from the three with your arms crossed against your chest and while your twirl your hair. 

"yo thanos, what are we going to do?" nam-gyu's irritating voice cut through all the noise of other people communicating.

thanos turned to him, his head bopping, motherfucker's high again. "i don't fucking care man, let them come to us. i mean, who wouldn't want to be with the great thanos!" 

both men chuckled as nam-gyu speaks up once again, "what about you 044? make yourself useful, can't just sit pretty doing nothing eh?".

"and you call yourself useful?" you scoff as you turned around to face the three, eyebrows raised. thanos smirked at you as you sighed, "fine, i'll make myself useful. no one would probably even care to join you, even if you begged." 

"you bitc—" nam-gyu would've reached you already if it weren't for thanos holding him back while cackling at the both of you.

with one last huff, you strutted your way to the crowd, scanning around the room for someone who met your personal standards—hot, unbothered, and most specially, a woman. 

your eyes landed on a person wearing a jacket with the number '380'. with a confident smirk, you walked towards the woman whose back is facing you and talking to someone.

"leave." your voice broke their conversation as they both looked at you. you eyes were darted to the boy specifically, him being the one you told to leave.

"w-what?" the boy stuttered, looking at you bewildered.

you furrow your eyesbrows, taking a step closer to the boy, "do i seriously need to get you hearing aids? i said leave." 

the boy scrambled away before you can even take your second step to him. with a pleased smile, you turned to the utterly attractive woman who looked at you with an amused expression.

"join me." short and straight to the point. you were confidently sure that she would just say yes and come with you— surely, who in their right minds would turn down a pretty girl's offe-

"why should i?" she voices out. oh. my. fucking. god is her voice so alluring. her looks already made your legs feel like jelly and then comes her voice?— yes lord.

snapping out of your fantasies, you furrowed your eyebrows as you looked at her with an expression that read 'how dare you?' 

"a-are you serious? why shouldn't you?" you looked at her up and down in attempt to intimidate her, but really just an excuse to check her out.

"can't just expect me to join you after rudely making the boy i was talking to leave, sweetheart." she crosses her arms as she made her way closer.

sweetheart. heat rushed to your cheeks and you scoff, rolling your eyes. 

"what do you want me to do then? he doesn't look like someone who's good enough to join forces with in a death game like this anyways." you rebut. 

"and you think you're good enough?" she smirks at you. before you could even utter another word, she straights up and looks down at you—caused by height difference, making you feel small— and chuckles.

"what's your name and give me one good reason why i should join you."

you told her your name, which made you sound too eager for your liking, before you straightened yourself up and flicked you hair to the back.

 "i'll make sure you win. team up with someone who actually looks like they're capable of winning instead of someone who looks like a lost puppy." your eyes darted to the boy she was talking to earlier who was now talking to other people before returning your gaze to her.

she crosses her arms and brings a finger to her mouth to bite down on and stares at you, which made you scream internally. what the fuck. how can someone be this hot?

after some silence between you two, she spoke up "fine. but if i lose, i'll come for you."

huh. 'come for me?' won't be such a bad idea, right? the thoughts made you smirk as you boldy traveled your eyes over her figure. 

"oh, i think you have me mistaken. i won't mind at all if you came for me" your voice sounded innocent, but your words were laced with an obvious innuendo.

"oh?" she smirks. before you could even let her finish her sentence, you speak up once again to avert the topic.

"how will you come for me if you die anyways?" you roll your eyes to try and hide your flustered state. "which, by the way, you won't. my group is decent, me being the best member of course." 

and as if on cue, thanos and the two made their way to the both of you, his annoying voice dominating the noise surrounding you. 

"there you are doll, been lookin for you." you scoff at his words as thanos turns to face 380, which you still don't know the name of, "and who is this señorita?"

you opened your mouth to say something but 380 beat you to it. "se-mi. she recruited me." she says, nodding to you. 

moanable name. you thought.

"really? another woman? you already make this team weak." nam-gyu yaps as he turns to face you, saliva escaping his mouth. filthy.

you scoff as you step away and point your finger at him, "fucking shut your mouth. you haven't done shit to this team. your ass can't fucking talk." 

before a fight between you two broke out, gyeong-su already restrained nam-gyu. thanos whistles, "well. there's that."

the purple-haired man throws his arm over your shoulders and faced nam-gyu. "let's not talk shit now eh? we're a fucking team!" he yells as he raised his free arm up, "try not to kill each other off, we still have games to play."

nam-gyu rolls his eyes and se-mi watches the scene unfold, snickering.

"now come on my folks, come on." thanos frees you from his hold as he walked through the crowd, arms spread as if bragging, with nam-gyu and gyeong-su following.

your lips unsubconsciously turn into a pout as you turned to face se-mi, who was already looking at you.

"cute." she eyes you up and down and starts walking towards thanos' direction. your mouth opens as if you let out a silent gasp at what she said and just stared.

she realized you weren't following so she stopped and turned her head to look at you.

"coming?" she smirks

oh i'm definitely coming.

@misayani

[lostintransist]

You’re writing is amazing you’re amazing and just all the love my goodness I can’t get enough 💕

Oh my goodness! Thank you! I know sometimes (I feel at least about myself) that it reads as just a casual thanks! as if you were passing on the street but I need you to know that this is like caught me in the side of the neck with feels and I will gush about you to my spouse and my soul mate (I am supremely lucky they aren't the same person).

Now I don't know if you are a fan of König (or reading Chiseled Heart) but this has been rattling around my brain like those cans people use to tie to the bumpers of cars for people who got married so I want to share becase we are a long way from it showing up in the fic.

*I like to give people words when they stop by. I treat it the same way sevice people come to my house to fix things. "You want a snack? I got snacks."

I've only had one guy take a snack.

I keep offering.

König freezes, hand on the doorknob, as your voice drifts in from the porch’s open window.

“König? I really like him.”

Your words are full of soft meaning that slaps at him; beating against his skin like the hands of the children who would laugh and pinch him. Even when he was small he had been too big.

“What about him though?” It’s your friend, Tori, “We haven’t seen his face and yes he is built but he doesn’t say much.”

“He seems to treat you well. I guess what we are saying is that we are concerned. He is nothing like your usual type and I want to be sure this isn’t a rebound.” That is Amara, Tori’s girlfriend.

His hand is starting to cramp around the round knob. He relaxes his hold; nothing in life was built with him in mind. König knows he should move, leave, make his presence known, something. The deepest parts of him, those bits hidden that would flourish if only a spare drop of love could find its way down, made him stay silent and still. No one else had been in the house when he came in to use the restroom. The openness of the floorplan would alert him to anyone entering the front door. And so, he stayed.

An annoyed huff leaves your mouth as you must shift in your chair, cloth shifting against wood. He can imagine you, arms folded tight as you force your shoulders down.

“He is kind, and not only to me. Mara, I have seen him pay for a stranger’s tank of gas when we stopped once. I hopped out to use the bathroom. There was a line so I happened to glance outside and see him getting hugged by a sobbing man with his hand still pressing something to the machine. The two receipts for gas confirmed what happened. He buys gift cards every time he goes to the grocery store and often turns around and hands them to moms in line behind him.”

You take a deep, shuddering breath before continuing.

“My usual type is pretty. But pretty men only bring pain. König isn’t pretty.”

König had been stabbed several times, your words punched him with the same force. He shifted his weight to move away, deepest soul shriveling further at the imaginings of your harsh words.

“Have you ever had someone become beautiful before your eyes?”

Your friends must nod or respond in some way he can’t see because you go on.

“He is striking. König’s face is my favorite thing to look at because every time I look he has become more beautiful to me. There is a scar here,” you must be pointing somewhere on your face. Lord knows how many scars he has mapping the landscape of his. It is one of the reasons that he wears a mask even now. “That whites out when he smiles big.”

Something unfurls in his chest, a desert plant tasting rain.

Tori again, “But this isn’t a rebound?”

“I don’t see how it can be? He doesn’t know I like him this much. Honestly, I would be happy being his friend. If he got a girlfriend I would sob myself to sleep for a few weeks as I make friends with her,” you sniff and clear your throat.

“Ah, hun,” Amara croons at you, “You’ve got it bad for him.”

The watery laugh you let out trails König as he slips away to the front door and away from the private conversation.

“God, I’ve got it so bad for him.” The tears in your voice water his broken parts.

Divider

[lost-in-fandoms]

Winter Warmers day 26 version 2: Cock warming. Max/GP. About 1.4k words.

Max walks towards his hotel room, slightly dragging his feet, feeling tired to the bone. Even in a building as big as this one, he can hear the pounding of the rain outside, see the occasional flash of lightning. He changed clothes at the track, after trying to dry himself up a little, but he hadn't had time to shower between the interviews and the post-race debrief.

He barely had the energy for it anyway.

It had been a very long and frustrating weekend, rain slowing down every session, almost stopping them from having a race at all. Not that they had ended up racing much, between red flags and safety cars.

Now, he wishes he could go straight home, but the weather is bad enough he had been advised to wait for the next morning, so one more night at the hotel it was.

He leans slightly against the wall as he looks for his room key, his eyes threatening to stay closed with every blink. The headache that had been steadily forming during the day seems to be back with a vengeance, pounding at the back of his skull.

The door opens with a beep, and he pushes it open, just wanting to go take a shower, or maybe straight to bed, no matter how disgusting he might be, when he realises the lights are on.

He blinks, not really wanting to have to deal with an intruder at the moment. If there is a murderer waiting for him, he might let them do their job without arguing.

He walks in, tiredly trying to muster up enough energy to send whoever it is out of the door, but what he finds isn't a murderer.

Instead, GP is sitting on the small couch, a stack of papers in his lap and an highlighter in his hand.

He raises his head, flashing Max a smile that is just as tired in the corners as Max feels.

"Hey," GP greets him, "I let myself in, I hope you don't mind."

If it was anyone else, Max would very much mind, but with GP he just shakes his head, toeing out of his shoes.

As soon as he's shrugged his jacket off though, his momentum stops, leaving him standing in the middle of the room, the following tasks (taking a shower, changing, maybe eating something, going to bed) feeling too draining to even start. He wishes he could teleport straight back into his bed at home, his cats curling on the blankets next to him.

"Max?"

Max looks up, and finds out that GP has moved, now standing in front of him, a worried expression deepening the wrinkles on his face.

Max should probably tell him that he's fine, he's just tired, he just has to get going and then he'll be fine, but he can't get his mouth to move. What he does instead is tip forward, until his forehead lands on GP's shoulder, his hands hastily coming up to steady him at his waist.

GP presses his cheek against the top of his head, moving half a step closer to make the half hug more comfortable.

"Are you sick? Or just tired?" he asks, keeping his voice soft but stern. It's a fair question, it wouldn't be the first time Max hides a illness to be able to race, but it's not the case this time.

"Tired," he mumbles, voice raspy. Even just that one word feels like too much effort, tongue stumbling around the letters, heavy and drained like every other muscle in his body.

GP hums, rubbing one hand up and down his back. His presence alone is so comforting it makes Max feel like he could fall asleep right there, standing in the middle of the room.

GP gives them a few more moments, before gently pushing Max back, keeping his hands on his hips while he waits for Max to hold his own full weight again.

"Shower?"

Max wants to say no, wants to lie and say he's had one already, but he knows this is pretty much just a rhetorical question and GP will make him shower anyway. So he nods, trying to muster up enough energy to get to the bathroom.

He looks through half lidded eyes at GP, who's now rifling through Max's suitcase to find some clean clothes, and then heading to the bathroom, turning the water in the shower on.

"Come on, Max, the sooner we do this, the sooner we can go to bed."

It's not the first time they have showered together, but it's the first time it's not following, or preceding, sex. Normally, it's all languid kisses, wandering hands on warm skin, but this time Max can't do much more than just standing there, letting GP take care of him.

GP is thorough with it, but careful. He makes sure no shampoo gets in Max's eyes, and that Max is always at least partially under the spray, not getting cold.

It's meditative, in a way, to let the water wash over him, feeling GP's strong hands moving over his naked body, turning him this or that way, and he turns his brain off.

When they're done, GP helps him into a towel, drying his hair for him with another, and then into clean clothes, warm from being left on the radiator.

"Have you eaten?" he asks, breaking the comfortable silence once they are back in the main room.

Max nods, sitting down on the bed and rubbing at his eyes, so tired they sting. He wants to go to sleep, but he knows that if he goes right now he won't fall asleep anyway.

For how tired he is, for how much his muscles hurt and his head aches, he knows his brain is still too awake, the last dregs of adrenaline still cursing through him.

He looks at the sheets of data GP had abandoned on the small couch and pushes himself to his feet again, ignoring GP's quizzical look to gather them up and bring them over to the bed.

He sits down near the headboard, and pats the spot beside him until GP sits, the data next to their legs.

"Max, I don't think going over data is going to be productive for you right now," GP tells him, his eyebrows wrinkled again with a worried pinch. That's fair too, Max knows. Both saying that he would be useless right now, and worrying about Max working too much. But that's not what he plans to do anyway.

So he shakes his head, pressing a hand on GP's shoulder until he is sat back against the headboard, then handing him the data.

And then he slides under the blanket, moving down on the bed until he's parallel to GP's legs, head in his lap, nosing against the underwear, Max's, he had put on after their shower.

"Max..." GP stops him, carding a hand in his hair. "I don't know if either of us is up for that. Quite literally."

It's true. Neither him or Max are hard, but that's not what Max wants.

"I just..." he tries, words clumsy in his mouth, "I need..."

He doesn't know how to end the sentence, doesn't know how to explain he just wants his brain to be quiet, to be able to sleep, but GP seems to understand anyway, his eyes growing softer.

"You need this?" he asks in confirmation, one hand coming down to cup Max's cheek, making him look up, his neck straining as he nods.

"Go ahead then."

Max's hands feel too big as he tries to rid GP of his underwear, but he gets there in the end, placing his head back in GP's lap, guiding GP's still soft dick inside his mouth.

He sucks at the head for a moment, tonguing at the slit, listening to GP's breath hitch, before taking into his mouth properly.

It's immediately perfect. Even when not hard, GP's dick fills his mouth nicely, the noise in his brain quieting down, the feelings of the day washing away, leaving him empty. All that counts is right here, just the weight on his tongue, the smell in his nostrils, the hand in his hair.

After an indefinite amount of time, he hears rustling of papers, and the sound of GP's voice, reading data aloud, creating the perfect background. In any other moment, Max would listen, would try and remember as much as possible, but not right now.

Right now is for sucking spit back into his mouth, breathe through his nose, and drift.

[genericpuff]

vent post

[daddyplasmius]

Danny Fenton isn’t dead. And Maddie is grateful for that, as his mother. But, as a scientist, she knows, realistically, he should be dead. Yet here he is, walking around with enough ectoplasmic contamination in his system to kill a grown man ten times, acting like nothing is wrong. What the honest fuck.

Maddie’s first theory is ectocontamination. A severe case. The problem with this theory is that there’s no proof of contamination besides the absurd amount of ectoplasm in Danny’s system. No adverse health effects as far as they can tell. Which is oddーwhen she compares it to her other theories.

Her second theoryーJack’s firstーis possibly low level possession. But, again, Danny shows no signs or symptoms besides his ectoplasmic levels. He can even pass through the Fenton Ghost Shield.

Third? Maybe he isn’t affected as much by ectoplasm and so it just sticks to him without any adverse effects. She did handle samples while pregnant, which wasn’t very good. But, again, the problem here is that the same could be said of Jazz, and she has a perfectly normal level of ectocontamination. And when she had gotten severely contaminated, Jazz fell illーalong with dozens of other students from Casper High.

It is quite literally just Danny.

Danny Fenton is an enigma. Maddie finds herself stuck in this thought loop often. Her son doesn’t even seem to notice the absolutely massive amount of ectoenergy he gives off. Normally, that much would be coming from the deceased victim of contamination or a ghost, not a healthy, living teenager.

And Danny is healthy. Nothing is wrong with him besides that. Which is weird. Well, it’s good that he isn’t dying, but… scientifically impossible. Never before witnessed. An anomaly in the field of paranormal science. A human giving off so much ectoplasmic energy a day, it could fuel a blob ghost, without recharging, for ten years.

Another mystery. How did Danny discover blob ghosts before she or Jack did? Why didn’t he tell them before one wandered out of his room? And why on Earth would he give them such a ridiculous, albeit accurate, name?

Maddie feels like her head is going to explode. She wishes she could justーask. But her son thoroughly avoids any mention of ghosts. Add it to the list. Because that’s what this is becoming. Just a list of odd things about her son that she can’t solve. Her son that should be dead, but against all odds isn’t.

[skyrigel]

I don't feel loved

[virtueofsanityx]

it feels like a bullet dodged, but there's a sharp sting of it in his chest, like he's been rejected without dmitri even realizing that he was doing it. fingers flex at his sides for a moment as he battles with himself, to either spit it out and just tell the man that he's so fucking in love with him that he could scream, or to let the moment go and brush past it like it's nothing, but dmitri makes the decision for him when music starts to pour from the speakers.

music that reggie recognizes.

the playlist isn't anything extremely special, it's the one that reggie has to have, the one that keeps him feeling positive even when he's going up against the most negative thoughts that live so deeply rooted in his head. it's the music that calms all of those nasty thoughts about him, about who he is and who he isn't. it's basically therapy to hide behind when a particularly bad day at work leaves him feeling the stress and trauma that really comes with his job.

the soft, fond little smile on his lips as song after cheerful song plays through the speakers fills him with a kind of profound warmth. his eyes keep cutting over to dmitri as the music goes on, heart racing just a little more, feelings getting muddled and mixed up all over again. he's pretty sure this is, at the very least, a little bit what love is. and maybe that's a stupid thought to trail after a pretty softball rejection of his feelings spilling out, but reggie has never been the smartest guy on the team.

as the cookies finish and the couch becomes a comfortable nest, reggie slips out of the button down he'd still been wearing, the tank top underneath loose and a-framed and comfortable. body sinks into a kind of comfort that he can only dream of on most nights, and the sigh he lets out could be called dreamy. he wonders if this is what heaven will be like, if he's done enough to even get there in the first place.

and as they're settling, as the cheesy movie plays, his mind continues to wander. he wouldn't be able to relay the plot to this movie if asked right in this moment. instead, he's thinking about love, and feelings, and how safe and comfortable he feels right here in this space. how dmitri has always made him feel that way, always wrapped him up in that cozy feeling and how rare it felt to be so blessed with it.

maybe it isn't fair, but the idea of anyone else getting this, this warmth, this comfort, this safety, it shoots a jealous bolt of anger through him, and his body shifts, perhaps a little more consciously than he's willing to let on, into the other man's space. if he were to move any closer, he'd be practically on top of him.

which isn't necessarily a position he's against being in.

dmitri's voice is the only thing that pulls him out of the deep hole of thoughts he's thrown himself down, thoughts about how easy it would be to just turn his head and start kissing a swath of skin down the man's neck, how simple it would be to curl his body just so and be cuddled into his side, how nice it might be to let his hand fall ever so gracefully into the other man's lap and then, perhaps, explore it.

but the question makes him blink away the filthy thoughts and he lets out a little chuckle under his breath at the question, twisting so that he can face the other man instead. "you really want me to stroke your ego right as they're getting to the big third act misunderstanding where they break up before they fall in love all over again?" eyes cut to the screen he's barely been paying attention to in the first place, but quickly move to look at him again.

like a magnet. drawn to him. oh so easily.

"i dunno, man. i feel...." he has to be careful with his words. has to be. or does he?

"when i'm with you i feel safe. like, i can handle myself, you know? i'm a firefighter, it's not like my workout routine and my arm game is bad, but i don't feel like i have to, because you're there, and you're always gonna have my back." expression serious, though with a glimmer of a smile hiding in the shadows of his features, reggie shrugs again. "i feel like... you're funny, and you're quick. i don't know a lot of guys who get punched in the head for a living in general, but the ones i do know don't tend to be as sharp or quick as you are. you have this energy, like... like i could say anything i wanted and you'd take it and roll with it, but you'd have something to say if it wasn't a good thing to say." without thinking, reggie leans in, and his hidden little smile twists into a smirk that's teasing and perhaps too mischevious to be completely innocent.

"that good? that enough stroking, or are you not finished, yet?"

Reggie’s soft, goofy laughter peeked through the shed tears, offering him a fragile sense of hope. Dmitri watched with quiet sympathy, his melted dark amber eyes warm and a gorgeously sunlit smile gracing his lips. As Reggie scrubbed at his tear-streaked face with his hands, Dmitri couldn’t help but think, Poor thing. Poor, pretty, thing.

But Dmitri didn’t mind. He knew Reggie would show the same support for him in a heartbeat. Sure, Dmitri internalized his struggles more, that was just his nature. Fight camps could stretch into painful, grueling months of mental hell, and while Dmitri didn’t necessarily expect Reggie to be there for him, he always knew he was. The trust between them was unbreakable, a powerfully steady presence that Dmitri found comfort in.

It felt good, knowing that Reggie wasn’t blaming him for anything or bolting out the door at the first sign of conflict. Maybe Reggie could sense Dmitri’s confusion, his quiet apology wrapped in unspoken words and a longing for clarity. Dmitri was used to his girl friends immediately flocking to him to vent about the terrible guys and gals they’d dated, but maybe other men handled things like him by also bottling it up, swallowing it down.

Did it piss Dmitri off, though? A little. But that had more to do with his inexplicable possessiveness over Reggie than anything else. Not that it made sense.

“You good? You sure?” Dmitri asked, his brow arched as he handed Reggie a napkin from the counter. The holiday fun wasn’t over, not by a long shot, but he was prepared to give Reggie all the time he needed to recover.

“Ehhhh… I didn’t have a lotta friends, either,” Dmitri admitted with a soft, sweet chuckle that rolled intoxicatingly through his chest. His shoulders shook slightly with the sound. “Kinda kept beating people up.” He was glad things were different now. Without Reggie, life would’ve gone on (his MMA career would still be intact, sure,) but there’d be a lot less sunshine. Dmitri didn't even want to think about life before Reggie, though the memories had a way of creeping back to haunt him anyway.

A part of him secretly burned to tell Reggie to stop apologizing for no reason, but he knew it wouldn’t stick. Instead, Dmitri just shook his head and let it slide. They were okay. At least, he thought they were----- until Reggie, in an awkward, last-second pivot, muttered a compliment.

He’s kind of��� you’re kind of great.

Dmitri’s grin widened, every pearl-white tooth on display. “I know,” he teased, basking in the random moment of appreciation. But then the words settled in, and his expression faltered, his brows knitting together slightly. Could Reggie mean...? No, no way in hell.

Sure, Dmitri could buy that Reggie might be kinda sorta attracted to him (because duh, look at the man!) but attraction didn’t mean seriousness. Dmitri had long resigned himself to the idea that his territorial nature over Reggie was mostly one-sided, and that was fine, as long as Reggie never found out. What they had wasn’t worth risking, not even for sex, no matter how much Dmitri loved it. ...And yet, no lover had ever emotionally connected with Dmitri the way Reggie did. That fact lingered with sharp and profound undeniability. It also meant that their friendship was delicate, something to be handled with care, not to be tested on a whim or a feeling alone.

Patting Reggie’s arm one last time, Dmitri reached around him to hook his phone up to the speaker. They needed the distraction, something upbeat to fill the strained silence and dissolve the bubbling tension Dmitri was still working hard to ignore. He wasn’t about to let his emotions turn him into the kind of fucking idiot who pounces on his best friend.

His music library was eclectic: heavy metal for fight mode, hip hop for runs or club nights, and pop and R&B for chillin' with the girls. But this time, he scrolled to the playlist Reggie had sent him. Knowing it would suit his friend's taste, he hit play, letting the cheerful tunes fill the kitchen as they got back to baking.

Periodically, Dmitri paused during their work, when Reggie’s words began pulling at the threads of his thoughts harder than he’d like. But he pushed them aside with pure logic; all relationships went through hell only to eventually fall apart, but friendships were different, they were almost always worth saving. With friendship, Dmitri didn’t have to put his heart on the line. He didn’t have to face the risk of rejection or betrayal and end up the one sobbing in the kitchen instead. Besides, why would Reggie even want to be with someone like him anyway?

With the music keeping them energized, the cookies were finally done after little over an hour (seriously, how could baking gingerbread cookies take so goddamn long?) They’d rolled out more than enough for two, so Dmitri grabbed a bottle of eggnog spiked with rum from the fridge to kick off their celebration. He carried everything over to the fireplace, transforming the plush sofa into a cozy nest of quilts and pillows---- a makeshift bed for two. Propping his laptop on the coffee table, he queued up one of those classic holiday flicks.

Bundled up and snug, they seemed to have found their rhythm again. Dmitri lounged right next to Reggie, his muscular arm draped along the back of the couch, fingertips resting just shy of Reggie’s shoulder. For some inexplicable reason, he was acutely aware of the contact (or lack thereof) as if electricity danced at his fingertips. It was invigorating but strange, and Dmitri masked the feeling well, taking steady sips of the spiked eggnog to ground himself.

“So,” Dmitri began, biting into a cookie that melted warmly on his tongue. “What you were sayin’ earlier… about me bein’ great and all?” A smirk tugged at his lips, his dark eyes gleaming with mischief as they flicked over Reggie’s face. “What makes you think that, huh? Like, what’re the specific reasons?”

He loved having his big ass ego fed, sure----- but more than that, he wanted to know exactly what Reggie saw in him. Even if he wasn’t ready to admit how much that answer mattered.

[bayetea]

seeing non-black people critique rick's portrayal of black characters is interesting sometimes. only like 30% of the critiques I see make any sense to me to be honest

[starflungwaddledee]

this is a long shot and i'm sorry to ask, but if you don't mind, can mutuals (or contacts or regulars... just... this community) of mine who aren't jumping ship like... let me know? will any of us still be here? is it over? i'm trying to know if this really is it or what's... even happening. i hate to reassurance seek but i'm feeling pretty miserable and confused.

edit: felt like i was being really pitiful and fragile making this but everybody is being so nice to me and responding so patiently with all your thoughts and i'm in tears of gratitude thank you thank you thank you 💖

[zermaidz]

I clearly remember the word asexual being defined as "no sexual attraction or desire". there was no "little to no" in the definition years ago when I read about it. there was another word for people who experience little sexual attraction: graysexual, whereas asexuals are people who never feel sexual attraction. it is important that people who never feel sexual attraction have a word to call themselves with a clear definition. mostly because other people have a hard time understanding us and respecting our boundaries, and we don't need more confusion. sexual attraction means you look at someone and feel desire to have sex with them. it's accurate to say that a person who feels no sexual attraction generally doesn't want to fuck people and doesn't actually enjoy sex like others do. I am telling you this as an asexual myself. without attraction, you literally never feel sexual desire for anyone and you view sex differently from others.

the way that people will argue with asexual people about our own sexuality (or lack of) and write posts all over the internet like "PSA asexuals can still have and enjoy sex" feels like low-key sexual harassment. like they just won't accept that we are different. they want to remove everything that makes an asexual person different and paint us like we're just like everyone else. and they also don't want to respect us or our boundaries when they make posts telling others we can still have sex with people we feel zero attraction towards. most people cannot and do not want to have sex with people they feel no attraction to, not only asexuals. the only difference for us is we feel no sexual attraction towards men, women or anyone. and people clearly expect us to "overcome" this and be in a "normal" sexual relationship like everyone else. I read a lot of stories about asexual people trying to do this and it only causes them stress and ends with a break up or divorce. in some cases it can be very traumatizing for them to force themselves into a relationship they are not compatible with. and I believe it's harmful for people online to keep telling asexuals that we can do relationships like this. and telling the general public that plenty of asexuals are willing do things they don't want to do just to please their partner, which can cause actual harm. this kind of talk can actually lead to spousal rape and abuse.

imagine if people started telling everyone that gay people can still enjoy sex with the opposite sex and be in a marriage or sexual relationship with them, even though they're not sexually attracted to them and feel no desire towards them. and people come into gay forums/spaces and say "well I'm a gay man but I'm happily married to a woman and we have sex every day. it's homophobic and exclusionist to say that gay people can't live just like normal straight people. having sex with women is normal and natural for most men and you need to stop being so sex-with-women-negative"

then they start calling gay men who don't want to have sex with women "women repulsed" and some people are telling them they might have a mental illness or sexual trauma causing them to not want to fuck women.

that's like what people are doing to asexual people. and then you call us bigots for not wanting to tolerate it?

to be clear, people did treat gay people this way in the past (and sometimes still do) but they (rightfully) did not tolerate the bullshit.

I'm becoming hyper aware of the fact that there's a group of radfem like exclusionist in the ace community. Like I kinda knew, but I didn't realize quite how bad it is. I understand that's likely because I'm not in and never have been in niche ace forums, so I apologize if I'm ignorant. Anyhow, it seems to be really seeping into the mainstream right now. These exclusionist think that asexuality isn't a spectrum and that only sex repulsed asexuals are real asexuals. I get SWERF vibes, too.

Also, I've noticed a lot of toxicity in general. I've been noticing a lot of sex negativity in online ace spaces, and when folks point out that things being said are toxic the folks pushing sex negative ideology argue that sex favorable aces are being exclusionary of sex repulsed aces, but that's generally not what I've seen happening. Sex repulsed ≠ sex negative. There's nothing wrong with being a sex repulsed asexual but pushing a sex negative ideology is toxic. Sex isn't inherently bad. I know some sex repulsed asexuals have trauma that has manifested in a disordered mindset surrounding sex and I sympathize with that, but that doesn't mean sex negativity should be encouraged and normalized in ace spaces. A while back, I saw a tiktok where a person talked about how an asexual person got a queer sex education class in their campus lgbtq+ center shut down because a sex education class makes the lgbtq+ center exclusionary of asexuals and that just makes my soul hurt. I've seen ace folks saying sexuality shouldn't be celebrated at pride because it alienates asexuals, which is a wild take.

I saw a person on one of the asexual subreddits earlier complaining about how they don't like when people, especially women, wear revealing clothes that display the body. I understand and respect wanting to dress more "conservatively" for lack of a better word. I actually often do. I really like Mori Kei fashion, which is known for being more "conservative" because it involves a more loose flowy silhouette and a lot of layering. I'd say Mori Kei has really inspired the silhouette of how I dress. Anyway, that's a side tangent. I understand wanting to dress more "conservative." I get feeling frustrated with the "womans" clothes on the market, but then to make comments about how you don't want to have to see others wearing revealing clothes feels icky. Like, if you sexualize the clothes women are wearing in public, that's a you problem. It's fine and dandy to have a preference, but this felt like purity culture.

I don't know, I'm frustrated. I'll probably have more thoughts on this later, but my brain hurts. Also, to make it clear, I'm not trying to demonize the ace community. I'm aroace, just hate seeing this kind of stuff I'm describing becoming so normalized.

[bandsandwristbands]

Vent post

[holysweetnachofries]

it's an hour of sentimentality, i guess! i hope i can see them again. i hope i can hang out with them more every year. i hope we get to stay in contact forever.

i miss my high school friends every day. i miss the feeling of being like in a sitcom tv show every time i hang out with them because it's always full of laughter and weird witty jokes being passed around. i miss being in a crowd like that. i miss having friend groups. i miss laughing til my stomach bursts with a bunch of people.

i miss them and i'll never say it to their faces because i'm a coward. i'll always try to ask them out once i'm no longer busy.

[aretarers]

i think my biggest character growth over the past 5-6 years? is being able to do this these days

[lilacerull0]

i feel like reading/watching mbf immediately means knowing who i am as a person and... i cannot allow this