#i think?? if i understand the positions correctly

[gangstalkerbarbie]

Yes, you don't owe anyone your time and intimacy. These things are freely given to people whose company you enjoy. They're not a reward for performing the mechanical actions of courtship correctly, they're a logical consequence of two people mutually liking one another on a profound human level. Courtship is a game between two people who already like each other, and the thing is that there is no reward, the reward is getting to spend socially sanctioned time together that could lead into nesting and raising children. The win condition of dating is a pair bond capable of weathering life and maybe sustaining childrearing, which for most people involves sex because it's fun, bonding and is what leads to children. The win condition of dating is not mechanical sex for mechanical sex's own sake.

The thing that progresses dating into greater seriousness is therefore also not a kiss, not a handy, nothing — you can do all of that with whoever you're dating, I don't care, but call me a boomer idk, the period of time that you're in love is supposed to be safe and fun for both parties. The progression of a relationship is about trust, which dies instantly the second dating is no longer both fun and safe.

If feeling safe and having fun does not, in your heart of hearts, include being alone together or handies or head for you (and let's be honest with ourselves, it often doesn't, no one really thinks these kinds of risks to her reputation and human value are fun and safe; when girls engage in these behaviours it's because they live in a bizarro world where for some reason horny boys are allowed to set the rules of mate choice and girls are taught to value being wanted above anything else), that should be respected. If it isn't, stop dating this person.

Lack of willingness to respect women's nonconsent (and telling you not to be a prude is, in fact, disrespect) leads to rape, which used to often lead to children out of wedlock whose lives were doomed to be miserable, which is why so many patriarchal cultures wrote not being in private with unwed women into ritual or customary law and usually tied in metaphysics.

Even back then, people knew that rape can be a profound sociological trauma with very far-reaching consequences and wanted to keep their children from experiencing it, and their grandchildren from living whatever life these circumstances gave them. Not everyone alive in a prevailing social climate agrees with it, but they do all know what the consequences are for acting like it doesn't exist.

And after marriage too, you may not always have the right to say no, but on principle you deserve it just by existing as a human being. No still means no even with a ring on it.

I would (and I have) stop talking to a guy even at the implication of any entitlement to sex; in my culture it's normal to be a virgin until 24 or older nowadays, because marriage is a very long commitment, and sex is always a risk for the woman, and no shit she has the right to discretion. If he wants to gently try to wheedle or pressure you into sex while you're still reasonably in the public eye as a distinct person now, imagine what he'll do when you're married, you're in private together with no witnesses all the time, and his grandma thinks he's entitled to it!

He's not entitled to fuck or damn, but marital rape is much harder to get any recourse for than rape, comma, vanilla (which itself is the farthest thing from a picnic), and not everyone who blogs on the internet has a right to no-fault divorce. Universally applicable advice: either the man you're with is capable of understanding that no means no, or you just don't get into that position with him to begin with. If he has bad vibes, don't give him a chance, leave. If he says or does some weird shit, don't give him the benefit of the doubt, leave. You are always morally in the right for leaving and telling everyone about why.

There may be very little you can do once you're too far in — I'm not saying you shouldn't have the right to leave a bad marriage, I'm saying a lot of people wake up one day to find they don't — so if at all you can choose whether you end up in that position, do everything in your power not to.

There should, also, in principle be standards you should be able to hold men to. Leave if they refuse to be held to standards; they do believe in standards even if they claim not to, just standards only for you. You want the guys that believe sincerely in standards for everyone that you also believe in.

They will be hard to find because their path is thankless and often also considered to be cringe or even juvenile (because very young boys don't know they're supposed to want to hurt women yet, not wanting to hurt women is widely perceived as naive, feminine or infantile among men), but it's the only way to safely be heterosexual. If you need a man (I'm a lesbian but I have brothers I love who feel they need women, and I know full well that it is possible to feel you need a man), pick a good one.

You may be waiting until you're 30, even 40, but the good news is that gives you time to make nesting money and learn who you are, so, you know, different time periods, different priorities.

Secrets of the mothers of Israel or whatever, special for Tumblr: make good choices about your box and hold the men in your life to standards. Otherwise they will make up bad one-sided standards to hold you to and make your stupid box choices for you.

The social coercion women face to date people they’re not attracted to is fucking insane. I remember distinctly thinking “well, I can just force myself to be attracted to him…”

Films, books, etc, all show the trope of beautiful woman and unattractive man. There is still the myth that an unattractive man will treat you better than an attractive one (more women are waking up to this, but still). Even now the left thinks that activism happens between the legs of women.

Don’t date people you’re not attracted to. Don’t feel guilty for not giving them the time of day. No means no.

[you-know-i-get-itt]

we’ve all talked about how andrew minyard being the goalkeeper is symbolic of his position as the protector of his foxes, but can we also talk about aaron and nicky being backliners whose job is to stop the ball before it can reach the goal at all and therefore protect andrew specifically

[autisticlee]

is it strange to genuinely not know what people think of you or how they feel about you? most people seem to just know if someone dislikes them so they can move on, or they just know when someone enjoys their company and is their friends. I have no way of knowing without people explicitly telling me, and people are horrible at doing that.

I don't know what my first impression gives. I don't know what vibes I have or what type of energy I have. I can't tell if someone hates me, doesn't care about me, or genuinely likes me. I can't tell what people's opinions on me are, if they think i'm nice, funny, rude, boring. I don't know if i'm bothering or annoying someone. I don't know if i'm upsetting someone or making them uncomfortable. I don't know if they are comfortable around me. I don't know if they enjoy my presence. I don't know if they are being fake nice and fake friends. I can't tell when someone loses interest in me. I cant tell if someone is trying to be a friend or is just being polite. I don't know if i'm easy to get along with, or difficult to be around. I don't know if my presence fills someome with joy or annoyance. to make it worse, each person thinks and feels different things. so i'll never figure out all of them.

if I try to think about what my presence and existence means to other people, i'm met with a massive blank hole. there's nothing there. I could never answer the questions "my friends/family would descove me as ___" because I genuinely don't know. I can only say what I think of me. unless someone explicitly told me with clear words, i'll never know. i'll usually know how I feel about another person at some point, and I try to tell them if I have the chance. but it's never reciprocated. they never tell me. so my presence in other people's lives is always a blank enigma I can't figure out.

any time i've tried talking about this, I just get a response like "stop worrying and caring about what other people think about you/just be yourself that's all that matters"

that's not the advice you think it is. that's more of what you'd say to someone who beats themselves up because they are worried about people disliking them in general and it fills them with anxiety to be disliked. they usually have low self esteem and think their worth lies in other people liking them. that's not the case here. hate me if you want, I don't care. i'd just rather know upfront before investing my time and energy in you.

this type of "caring what others think" is more about human connection, rather than acceptance....I wonder...is one reason I struggle to connect with people because I can't feel the presence of their feelings towards me? all I know is they are aware of my existing. thats it. try being in a group chat and not knowing if any of them actually like you or secretly hate you, not knowing if they are your friends or just being nice, and not knowing anything about how they feel about you, but you enjoy them very much. I try to share inner feelings with them, but theirs don't reach me. so I wonder, do mine even reach them? somewhere between us, the connection fails to reach. perhaps this is one of the problems i'm having with connecting to others.

if you don't know what people think or feel towards you, how can you connect with them? either you make assumptions, like "I think they hate me" and you could be wrong and push away someone that thinks you're friends, or think "i'm sure they enjoyed talking with me" and they later tell you they were just being nice but never wanted to talk to you becuass you're annoying. but assumptions are dangerous because those reasons, so the only other choice is to assign a blank slate to them and wait for them give you words to write on it. but if they don't use their words, they stay blank. you will never know if you are making a connection or it's staying superficial.

it's selfish to only go off your own feelings towards someone. you could really like someone, want to be friends, want to hang out and chat, but if they don't feel the same way, you just cause them problems and inconvenience. you bother them and ruin their time. i've noticed people often won't be direct about that and get even more upset because I missed it. I thought we shared a vibe or similar energy. but I might have mixed up my feelings with their vibes. if I like someone and enjoy them, not knowing how they feel about me can lead to me wasting my time and energy and also annoying that person unknowingly. it's bad for everyone.

if you can't assume the worse or even the best, you have to assume they feel neutral towards you until told otherwise. the problem is, most people go off of subtle hints, but if you can't see those, you get left out. while neither good nor bad, neutral feelings are still that of strangers. if you can't read people's thoughts and feelings on you, but it's rude to ask or people don't tell you the truth, you end up with many neutral people in your life. many strangers.

is this normal? do other people have an idea of what someone feels about them? or do you all "not care" what they think and go off of how you feel about them instead? is everyone making guesses, or do most people actually know without asking? how do you bond and feel connected if you aren't sure if someone enjoys your presence or if they actually loath it? I truly don't know....all I know is, not knowing makes me feel very disconnected from everyone.

I haven't gotten anyone else to talk about this or seen anyone else talk about it. so there's a good chance it's just a me thing. this type of topic usually gets reduced to "stop caring what people think" and goes nowhere beyond that. but!!! I think it's actually important to be able to know what people think or feel about you!!! at least to an extent. not obsessively caring to the point it becomes a mental disorder like social anxiety. but just enough to at least know if you are actually making a connection with them. just enough to know if you are able to reach them....

[bronanlynch]

obsessed w the choice to have reinhard & hilda hook up for the first time in the context of. reinhard is having a breakdown over his guilt at the death of his boy best friend like. very heterosexual of him, I'm sure

[thetransintransgenic]

Wait hold on I don't want to disagree with the main point of this post because I 100% agree with it but in terms of the actual way that Reform religious practice is determined, like, IIRC I'm pretty sure it davka is specifically NOT the case that Reform Rabbis did the same halachic process of interpretation as Orthodox Rabbis and that that is why Reform has different practices, but that the Reform movement specifically (a) considers the individual as the autonomous determining agent of the halachic laws that they subscribe to and (b) doesn't consider halacha binding in the same sense as most other movements?

Which! like! still doesn't make them any "less Jewish", any "worse Jews", any "less religious" or "less observant" of their Judaism (an an objective sense -- colloquially I might use phrasing like that, from a subjective perspective, because it's harder to phrase around it).

Just, that, I think "Because Reform rabbis did the same work of Torah law interpretation, and came up with a different answer than orthodox Jews, but using the same process and approach to reading the text." in particular is mistaking the way Reform halacha works as far as I understand it.

I know I'm writing this right as shabbat is coming in and tbh I'm fine with that. I'm so tired of Jews saying that if they don't keep shabbat or practice Judaism in an orthodox way they're "bad jews" or "not observant." Um, no, that's not true. That's now how it works.

Reform Jews who use electricity on Shabbat are just as observant. Because Reform rabbis did the same work of Torah law interpretation, and came up with a different answer than orthodox Jews, but using the same process and approach to reading the text. They didn't go, "this is inconvenient so we're just not gonna do it." They said, "where orthodoxy sees electricity as something that may create a spark and therefore violates the melachot around making fire, we see it as a current, like water flowing, and just as it is permitted to use a faucet on Shabbat, so is flipping an electric switch."

If you choose to not be observant because it's not for you, that's fine. But orthodoxy is not the only way to be observant of Jewish practice. There's no line of what makes you observant and what doesn't, and that doesn't just go for Shabbat but it's the easiest example to illustrate my point. The Torah just says, "observe the Shabbat." That's it. If you look around on Friday night and go, "oh hey it's Shabbat, huh?" then tell me how that isn't observing the Shabbat? If you light candles and make kiddush and then go out to a movie, haven't you observed it? The Rabbis in the Babylonian era interpreted what Jewish practice looks like in a diaspora without the cultural/religious structure around a central temple, but that has been re-interpreted in every generation since and continues to be.

The real question is, are you making informed choices about your practice or are you just doing what works for you? Which is also fine, by the way. The thing that bothers me is when people think that only orthodox Jewish practices are "real" or legitimate. An orthodox friend of mine once started shit talking Reform Jews to me (why???) and how they aren't observant like she is. So I asked her if she tears her toilet paper on Shabbat and she said yes, of course. I pointed out that there are a lot of charedi Jews who would consider that a blatant violation of Shabbat and that, in their eyes, she wouldn't be considered shomer Shabbat. It's all a spectrum, there's no ONE right way.

My favorite Midrash is that the Temple had 13 entrances - one for each of the 12 tribes, and one for those who weren't sure which one they belonged to/didn't belong to any of them. Judaism is such an inherently pluralistic ethnoreligion, please stop buying into the brainrot bullshit that only charedim can do it correctly.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

being alive at the time i gleaned some general elements abt encanto but never actually heard we don't talk about bruno beyond awareness it existed popping off & i think i heard like the title recited off key off rhythm but in a way that indicates speak singing nonetheless lol so upon experiencing it it's like oh but it's the Verses? while the last refrain goes harder but prior to that it's comparatively underwhelming to said verses which feels appropriate like verses / pieces of a larger picture & that a "we don't talk about him" as a disappointing Lid on infinitely richer more characterful & dynamic "but: talking about him" instances. like well personally it'd be like um seven foot frame....anyway besides being able to firsthand go like oh damn Real (the kind of thing you know exists if alive at the time) it's like alright hang on lol. one thing when a core theme is yeah like "is it a refuge if 'especial' vulnerability ultimately gets pushed out rather than made safer" subset like the parties whose even observation of truths (problems) & drawing attention to them is seen as Ruining Things, like if you're painted as Making futures that aren't simply what's desired or reassuring rather than a guidance via just observing & sharing the truth. but then it's like whaddaya mean living in fear of bruno stuttering and stumbling you could always hear him sort of muttering and mumbling lmao like now that's just Association between the Truth Perceiving & Telling behavior & behavior that's just apparently distinctive of the same person. & like Not Accidentally when [what if people were magic] specifics are obviously primarily abt a metaphorical meaning & like, indeed it was made clear like oh this situation isn't Just b/c [boo we hate your prophecies] & that [an Ability that isn't directed towards what anyone Wants / is "weird" even by these magic standards] isn't Coincidentally given to someone who just so happens to already be "weird" in other ways & be set up to have a different perspective & be pushed away due to having the supposed "extra" vulnerability of unmet needs / insufficient support, same as someone who doesn't "correctly" have any kind of magic ability....like yeah banger and also like Oh Yeah Kind Of Devastating re: that metaphorical resonance allowing for like [set the metaphor aside] now hang on with this about this disabled family member lol. misinterpretation to The Ruinerrr / The Problemmm / The Maliciousss etc (i.e. the scapegoatinggg) despite their efforts likely entirely to the contrary. then despite like, efforts aside, Just Existing, always kind of muttering & mumbling like & what of it. & then like oh sorry weird pets. weird [auspicious for adaptable tenacious thriving surviving; either way simply creatures, existing] pets.

truly like As Is The Idea I'm Sure quickly becomes like hands behind back standing at the window Uh Oh Sisters musing on all the [disabled person] metaphorical & already literal elements there. blair witching it in contemplation like We've All Been There whether being so resented for the mere disruption of "existing in a group as the 'abnormal' odd one out" or like people talking shit abt anything associated w/you as soon as you've left the room, which is also made relevant like, this wasn't Only directed at this person when seemingly permanently gone, nor were they unaware / unaffected prior....pacing in the Musing parlor like things don't Have to be compared to billions but i only ever even see so many things & it's like billions sure is like "get scapegoated rword" & then said scapegoating is presented as only beneficial & we hate autists & even beyond that it's like, grabbing billions, Imagine If Things Meant To Be About Something Were About Something. quite a contrast when they are & furthermore like, deliberate thought & Care for [who gets scapegoated & why] & the truth of like, people getting pushed aside & out who have a key perspective & are primed / liable to come through for others similarly vulnerable & the supposedly Ruinous, Problems Generating disruptiveness is actually the strongest effort to make essential changes to a group. & come through with like, it'd be undermining thee point if it was "reassuring" us like oh haha people will be supportive b/c bruno will be more normal, so great that it Didn't like no, no Normality Reassurance(tm), presence of abnormalities(tm), Good, & everyone Can Deal b/c if you don't then it's pushing this person away, is exactly what happens, including even if they're still Around but are being mistreated b/c that is entirely part of that pushing away like anyone's victim blaming is ready to pounce at any time but if someone can't stand to stay / leaves b/c they can't see another option like that's not out of nowhere nor Regardless of what full support & flexibility they were getting lol. these Active Measures everyone loves so much, which are everywhere always & would include Staying & Trying To Make It Work & those efforts would be "disruptive" & resented & Bringing It On Oneself & etccc smh

that is to all say like. Woww when clearly basically the core thread was these beats of like, the crucial site of [thee scapegoated], & why that comes down on someone & how that plays out. endless ideas about how someone weird(tm) & disabled (&/or queer. but there's no Or here lol. & again like it's a Context like, to even be the one person without kids? likely not living up to "full" correct sexuality in that way alone; any oppression's logics of "inferiority" being logics of ableism, ready examples being that "inferior" race, gender, sexuality (& their experiences as people classed as inferior) all being pathologized as disordered) are seen & treated as someone Ruining Things & who cannot belong like whew. bracing. winding. which, i also recall like i was watching with headphones & during this one dialogue pause i was like "?? what's this Extra Sound i heard there" & had to go over it like twice before being hit upside the head like well it Was still the dialogue pause but it was also bruno Stuttering in a very quiet whisper for the duration of that pause before continuing like iiiiiiii x_x

[salemlunaa]

ೄྀsome of you STILL don’t understandೄྀ

you must get comfortable in your god state to really succeed

ೄྀPART I | STOP NEGOTIATING WITH THE 3D

To get comfortable in your god state you need to understand that it is you ALONE that manifests. Stop consuming and spreading misinformation, you don’t have to “meet in the middle”with the 3D for your manifestations.

“If you want your dream bod to be manifested you have to stand firm AND workout”

“If you want to manifest clear skin, it’s good to visualise but you should also be focusing on skincare”

“If you want to manifest good grades you can affirm but you actually have to study”

“You can’t expect to manifest when you aren’t bothering to do anything in the 3D”

bullshit. absolute bullshit

although it’s important to still take care of your necessities, there’s no such thing as meeting halfway for your desires. If you think that you don’t understand what manifestation is. And with the assumption that it is, means that you don’t understand your full potential. As soon as you think of a desire it’s yours, no negotiating needs to be done with the 3D. All you have to do is stand firm.

Why are you making deals with the 3D?, “okay, okay if i workout in the 3d and manifest my dream body in my 4d it will come” that just isn’t needed

“okay but it does help things move faster” “it does help things become a little easier” nope, still wrong!

you don’t have to lift a finger for something that’s already yours. never. same goes for inducing pure consciousness, you don’t have to spend hours saturating your conscious mind in order to shift. You can have the worst day and still induce pure consciousness because that’s all it is: a state of consciousness.

ೄྀPART II | EVERYTHING YOU DO IS PERFECT

To get comfortable in your god state you must also understand that you’re doing it all right. Stop asking dumb questions, you’re doing everything correct. The fact that you rely on bloggers to tell you if you should do this or that as if they’re your god shows that you don’t truly understand (and it’s getting really frustrating).

“will i still be able to induce pure consciousness if I lay on my side rather than in a starfish position?”

“do i have to affirm?”

“what if i don’t do this one blogger’s method to the minute details, does this mean i won’t shift?”

asking stupid questions like these confirms that you still don’t understand the extent of your power, you still don’t understand who you are.

And if you don’t understand, you will never progress, treating this like a chore that you have to perfect is where you go wrong. As a god, everything you do is correct, you could even induce pure consciousness by standing straight up and singing heavy metal at the top of your lungs, because what ever you say goes.

Stop sitting back up after minute 5 of it “not working” to check if you’re doing that method correctly. Why does you living your dream life depend on other people’s rules, are they the gods of your reality or is it you?

And you do know this still counts as you putting the void state on a pedestal? There are people who find out about pure consciousness and induce it that same day. Get your head in the game.

1: You don’t have to lift a finger for your dream life

2: You’re doing everything correct, you are “I AM” trust that and you’ll induce in no time

Both of these things, negotiating with the 3D and asking if your doing it right in YOUR OWN reality are signs that you don’t trust yourself enough. Learn to actually trust yourself and accept your fate as a god and you’ll have everything you dream of

NOW GO GO GO, GO GET YOUR DREAM LIFE

🍵🪷To understand and succeed you must trust yourself

[zyafics]

SHOTGUN WEDDING | Rafe Cameron

MASTERLIST (oneshot) | x Maybank!Female Reader

Summary — You and Rafe are nothing but casual. But when he suddenly has the idea to get married, you agree after some convincing.

Content — 18+, smut, fluff, fingering, blowjob, and banter.

Word Count — 2.2K

"Let's get married."

"What?" You say breathlessly, lifting yourself by the elbows and turning to face Rafe. You don't know if you heard him correctly.

"I said let's get married," Rafe repeats in a lower octave, pushing away the prickling feeling beneath his skin—a consequence of your reaction to his vulnerable declaration.

There it is again. Clear as day. You hadn't misheard him the first time, and the dawning strike of realization causes your heart to skip several beats. But you still don't acknowledge it. Blinking, you're trying to decipher whether this is some cruel trick. "You're not serious."

"Do I look like I'm kidding?"

Annoyance flickers through his hard features and you purse your lips, not wanting to provoke him further by providing a sharp-witted comment. Your mind is spinning—partially from all the orgasms Rafe pulled from you, but also from the proposition.

Marriage. Does he understand the absoluteness of that proposal?

You suspect he doesn't. "You're delirious," you brush it off with a casual laugh, wanting to admonish any potential embarrassment that may arise in him and to move forward. "Let's just forget about it."

"I don't want to forget about it." Rafe grits through clenched teeth. Your reaction is the complete opposite of what he'd imagined to happen. Sure, you weren't the type to jump for joy, but goddamn, you couldn't give him something? "You still haven't given me an answer."

"You don't want a real answer."

"I'm clearly asking for one."

"It's just the post-sex haze."

"It's called post-nut clarity," he rectifies, "And my mind is perfectly clear."

You're giving him exits, to pretend to forget about it and act as if it never happened, but Rafe takes none of them. He doesn't want to drop it, so, finally, you ask. "Why?"

A heavy beat passes before Rafe shrugs, attempting to appear nonchalant when all he can hear is the thrumming of his own heart. "I like being inside of you," he reasons, before meeting the unimpressed look on your face, and adds. "You make me laugh."

You scoff. "Yeah, so do small children falling over. Get off of me," you shove him off, pulling to the ledge of the bed where your wobbly legs find balance on Rafe's hardwood floor. Not knowing how to process this change in affairs, you go search for your clothes instead.

Rafe watches as you scramble around the room, a reflexive habit of yours whenever you feel uncomfortable. His agitation flares, his jaw locks, and with a narrowed gaze that follows your every move, he pulls to a sitting position and rubs his chin with the back of his hand.

"Goddammit. Stop looking for your shit and look at me," Rafe commands, his voice bleeds with a tinge of desperation, forcing you to halt your recovery search to face him. Exposed. Utterly naked. But instead of Rafe making some sexual innuendo about your body, his eyes remain on your face. "Why don't you believe me?"

"Because we've only been fucking," you list, using your manicured fingers to count out all the reasons why this is a terrible idea. "You call me whenever you want a hookup. We're never not arguing, and I swear, sometimes, you don't even like me."

"I like you just fine," Rafe shrugs a careless shoulder, but the conviction behind his tone wavers. "And all the other reasons are bullshit. So, what? If we get married, we can fuck and fight anytime we want."

"That's faulty logic," you retort and he rolls his eyes. "Plus, it's not the basis for a strong marriage. I'm giving you an out; you're not thinking straight, Cameron."

"I'm thinking just fine."

"You sure?" You take a step closer, about to raise three fingers in the air, and ask him to relay the count, when Rafe inclines forward to grab the underside of your thigh, pulling you in. You let out a little yelp of surprise, slotting between his spread legs.

He lifts his chin to meet your gaze, his thumb running absent patterns across your sensitive skin. With a low voice, Rafe asks solemnly, "Why don't you want to get married?"

"Have you not been listening?"

"Those aren't good reasons," he affirms, causing you to huff.

"Only you would tell a woman their reasons aren't good enough," you muse, drifting your hand to the nape of his neck. You tilt your head to the side. "What classifies as a bad reason?"

A beat passes before he answers. "You don't like me."

After he says that, Rafe holds his breath, his eyes searching your face to see any minuscule change in your features only to discover none. Your hand locates his chin, caressing the hard definition of his jaw. "That's not true."

Rafe exhales. "Then, it's settled."

"No, it's not settled."

He groans, tipping his head back, enough for you to see the grand column of his throat. His Adam's apple bobs over your infuriating buffers. It's amusing, and for a brief moment, you envision a future where you get to do this forever. "Do you not want to get married?"

"I never said that."

"So, you don't want to get married to me?"

"Rafe," you sigh, and he returns his gaze. You're referring to him by his first name, instead of the adorned Cameron, and his skin tightens at whatever you plan to say next. "You're a Kook. I'm a Pogue. We're barely in a relationship, and I doubt your parents would approve of this."

"Fuck what they'd say," he admits, with the relentless urgency behind his voice. He means it. "I want to. Since when do you care about what other people think?"

"Since I'm going to be entering into said family."

You say it with such dolefulness, that it sounds like you already accepted his proposal. Already imagined a future with him. The corner of Rafe's mouth lifts; he just needs to do one more thing to convince you.

Rafe hoists you onto his lap to straddle him, your ankles on either side of his waist, as your naked core rubs against the side of his cock, the sensation quickly hardening his erection.

Expecting him to lift you onto his tip, Rafe surprises you by swiping his fingers through your wet folds, causing a small whimper to rise from the back of your throat. "Listen to me," Rafe rasps, pressing gentle kisses along your collarbone before lowering to your breasts, while the tip of his fingers toys with your entrance. "You've given me your reasons why it won't work, I'm going to give you my reasons why it will."

"I'm not going to change my mind,"

"You sure?" Rafe grins, teasing your slit. Your walls clench around the nothingness, desperately needing to be filled, and it causes you to bounce up and down, rubbing yourself against Rafe's hardened cock. Your hands land on his shoulders for steadiness, and that's when he begins to pump you.

"I think we look good together," Rafe lists with a grunt, feeling your pussy rub against his length. Desire pools inside of Rafe, his cock throbbing, but he concentrates on the task at hand, adding another digit. "You're the only person that keeps me on my toes—fuck," he groans, and you smirk.

Your slickness covers Rafe's cock, but you don't sink down on it. "Are you sure you're going to win this?" You murmur against the shell of Rafe's ear, planting feather-light kisses along the edge of his jaw. Rafe squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, needing to gather himself before he slides in his ringed finger—the cold singlet grazing your heat, making you gasp and stop your movements.

Rafe holds your hips, while his fingers fully thrust inside of you with such vigor and performance, that a rich moan rips from your lips. He concludes his final reason: "And I get to fuck this every single night."

His darkened eyes lift to meet your hooded ones. His fingers work a steady but increasing rhythm inside of you, the coil of familiar pleasure twisting your gut. "Look at how pretty you are coming undone by me. Don't you want this forever?"

"Shut–shut up, Rafe," you whimper, your hands reaching for his arm between your legs, attempting to slow down the pace as your sensitivity is plowed into overdrive. Rafe snatches your wrists into one hand, dragging them away. "Too much."

Your legs attempt to close around him, but his large frame prevents such a thing. Rafe grins at the look of pleasure blooming on your face, the unsteadiness of your breaths alongside your lashes fluttering against your cheeks, and he fastens his strokes.

Whimpers and moans escape you in rising increments, and Rafe kisses your mouth, swallowing all that noise and desperation and need. "Say yes," he murmurs against your tingly lips.

"N–no," you refuse, still holding an ounce of restraint.

But Rafe simply laughs. His fingers slow its assault, leaving your mind a completely boggled mess. Nothing but the sensation of your orgasm on the near horizon resides, hooked completely on fulfilling your own pleasure, that you can't think of anything else to do but whine.

He looks back at you, sincerity capturing his face. " I like you, Maybank. It'll be fun to make it official."

"I—" You can barely comprehend a single word he's saying, the fizzling of your orgasm dissipating as you desperately try to wield it back in. "I can't think right now," you whimper, lowering yourself to give him a needy kiss, "Make me come first."

He doesn't need another reason before he reenters you, his thumb circling your clit and massaging it as his fingers thrusts in and out. Sounds of wetness echo throughout the quiet room, and when Rafe leans forward to add another mark—biting a sensitive spot on your neck—you unravel with a loud cry, tipping your head onto Rafe's shoulder.

Rafe guides you through your intense orgasm, your walls clenching around him so hard, they barely can move. Slowing his thrusts until it completely fade away, when Rafe pulls out, he presses his slick-covered fingers on the dip of your bottom lip, forcing them apart to lick clean. And when you do, he pulls you back in to seal it with a kiss.

Your chest rises and falls heavily as your eyes close for a moment of respite. Rafe's gaze, however, never strays from your face—patient and waiting.

This is such a bad idea. The whole premise of a Cameron-Maybank marriage could potentially knock the earth off its axis. You're from two different worlds and carry different viewpoints, but there's something fun, exciting, and fulfilling in being with Rafe. It can't be just because he gives you one of the best orgasms of your life.

You know JJ would hate this. He barely tolerates the idea of your hookup with Rafe as it is, and out of everyone, you value most of your brother's opinion. But, for once, you can't seem to find it in yourself to care.

"Fuck," you announce, reopening your eyes and meeting his stare. "Fuck it. Let's do it."

Rafe's lips pull to a genuine smile. "Yeah?"

You nod. "It'll be fun."

He grabs your hand, "Let's go."

"Right now?"

"Don't tell me you're getting cold feet already?"

"You think I back down from a challenge?"

"It isn't the first time."

You slap his shoulder and Rafe laughs. He moves his hand to your hips again, lifting you off when you stop him. "Wait," you say, looking between you, at the red and swollen cock that hasn't gotten its release. "I have to do something before we leave."

You sink to the floor on your knees, still between his legs, as your thumb rubs the pearly beads of precum over the tip, causing Rafe to groan. He was so focused on your pleasure and making you agree to his outrageous proposal, that he didn't get a chance to relieve himself. You want to help.

After all, isn't that the first step to marriage?

Taking him into your mouth and tasting your slick rub all over him, you hollow your cheeks as you begin to suck. Rafe moans from the contact your lips made with his length, your hand wrapping around the base to steadily pump him alongside the suction.

It feels like absolute heaven. His hands thread through your hair, pushing you deeper onto his cock, and making you gag on the girth. This made you retreat, just slightly, to glare up at him. "Don't do that."

Wanting desperate release, Rafe's willing to listen to about anything. "Yes, ma'am."

When you return to sucking him off, Rafe makes sure not to push you further on his dick without prior approval, so you can take him appropriately. At least that means he'll listen to you in the marriage. As you steadily increase your pumps, and your jaw aches from the stretch, you feel Rafe's cock twitch.

"Come on, baby, come for me," you command, lifting your gaze to meet his eyes. Not even a moment later, he comes inside your mouth, spilling to the back of your throat, and you swallow up every lick of his hot cum.

You wipe the corner of your mouth with the pad of your thumb, and Rafe assists in pulling you back to your feet. Giving him a kiss, you grin. "Good boy. Now, let's go."

IMPORTANT: if you want to follow my fics and updates, follow @zyafics-library and turn on notifications!

[thesecondhandwoman]

OVERWORKING HERSELF

Caitlyn x f!reader

Synopsis: Caitlyn has been working herself down to the bone, resulting in your girlfriend being tired and stressed, irritated and cold. But, despite your efforts to help, they only seem to backfire.

The rain pattered softly against the windowpane, its rhythmic sound blending with the scratch of Caitlyn’s pen on paper. She was hunched over her desk, eyes sharp but sunken from the weight of too many sleepless nights. Files lay scattered in front of her, a chaotic mess of reports, red strings of connections, and hastily scrawled notes in the margins.

You leaned on the doorway, arms crossed, watching her with concern that had been building for days. She was drowning in her work, and no matter how many times you tried to reach out, she pulled herself further and further away.

“I think that’s enough for tonight, Cait,” you said softly, not wanting to startle her but firm enough to be heard. “You’ve been at this for hours. You need rest.”

“I’m fine,” Caitlyn muttered, her voice distant as she scratched something onto the page, her eyes never lifting from the paper.

“No, you’re not,” you replied, stepping further into the room. “You’re exhausted, and you’re not thinking clearly. Come to bed, please.”

“I said I’m fine,” she snapped, her tone sharper this time, like a blade slipping from its sheath. Her grip on the pen tightened, and for a moment, she didn’t even look at you. “I’m not a child. I don’t need you telling me when to sleep.”

Her words had a bite, but you didn’t back down, you know you couldn’t right now. You stepped closer, placing a hand gently on her shoulder. “I’m not telling you what to do, Cait. I’m asking you to take care of yourself. There’s a difference.”

That was when she turned to face you. Her eyes, usually so full of clarity and precision, were clouded with fatigue and frustration. Her lips were set in a hard line, and you could see the storm brewing behind her gaze.

“You don’t get it,” she said, her voice low and cold. “You don’t understand what it’s like to have the weight of an entire city on your shoulders. You don’t do anything, and yet you think you have the right to lecture me? Especially now of all times?”

Your heart stopped.

The words hit you with the force of a cannonball, hollowing out your chest and leaving you breathless. You blinked, your eyes wide with shock, as if you weren’t sure you’d heard her correctly and were waiting for her to clarify. She’d never spoken to you like that before. Not Caitlyn. Not your Caitlyn.

Staring at her for a bit longer, your expression fell, and you cleared your throat awkwardly.

“Right,” you whispered, a quiet, bitter huff of a laugh slipping from your lips. Your heart was cracking, but you held it together just long enough to plaster on a smile—a small, sad curve of your lips that didn’t reach your eyes. “Got it. I’ll leave you to it, Commander.”

You turned away before she could see the hurt settling into your features. The moment your back was to her, your face crumpled for just a second, brows knitting together as you bit down hard on your bottom lip. You forced yourself to keep walking, slow and steady, until you reached the bedroom.

You didn’t hear her call after you. You didn’t hear anything at all.

The bed felt cold when you climbed in, pulling the blanket up to your chin. You lay on your side, facing the wall, your knees drawn up just a bit too tightly. The weight of her words hung in the air like smoke that refused to dissipate.

“You don’t do anything.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to will away the sting of tears threatening to fall. You told yourself it was fine, that Caitlyn was just stressed, that she didn’t mean it. But that didn’t stop the ache in your chest from burrowing deeper.

Back in the study, Caitlyn sat in the same position for a long time, pen in hand but unmoving. The sharp click of the rain on the window was louder now, the quiet of the house pressing in on her.

Her mind replayed the moment, over and over again.

“You don’t do anything.”

Her heart twisted.

The exhaustion that had been numbing her thoughts gave way to clarity, and for the first time that night, she stopped working. She leaned back in her chair, hands covering her face as a low, frustrated sigh escaped her lips.

Gods, she was such an idiot.

Her fingers rubbed at her eyes, trying to scrub away the burn of guilt as if it were something she could wipe clean. She thought about the look on your face, that smile you’d worn like armor just before walking away. She’d seen that kind of smile on soldiers—the kind they wore just before going into battle knowing they’d already lost.

With a heavy breath, Caitlyn stood up. Her legs felt stiff from sitting too long, but she ignored it, moving toward the door like a woman with a purpose. The hallway was dim, moonlight spilling through the windows, and as she walked toward the bedroom, her steps were quieter than they’d ever been.

When she reached the door, she hesitated.

The sight of you lying on the bed, curled up on the far edge as if trying to make yourself as small as possible, nearly broke her. You always slept closer to the middle, one hand often draped over her waist when you were feeling particularly clingy. But tonight, there was no warmth between you. Just distance.

Caitlyn let out a slow breath before slipping inside. Her heart pounded with every step as she moved toward you, her weight barely creaking the mattress as she sat on the edge.

“Y/N…” Her voice was barely a whisper, hesitant but sincere. No response. She frowned, leaning forward slightly. “I know you’re awake.”

You stayed still for a few seconds longer before finally sighing, eyes still closed. “What do you want, Caitlyn?” you muttered, and she winced at how bitterly you said her full name.

Her hand hovered over your back before she placed it there gently. She felt you stiffen under her touch, and it made her heart ache.

“I’m sorry,” Caitlyn murmured, fingers tracing slow, careful circles against your back. “I was rude. I know I was, and you didn’t deserve that.”

You didn’t reply, your face still buried in the pillow, but you didn’t push her away either.

“I’m an idiot,” she continued, her voice cracking just a little. “I’m tired, and I’m scared, and I keep convincing myself that I have to do it all alone. But that’s not true, is it?” She leaned forward, resting her head on the pillow beside yours. “You’ve been here. With me. Every step. I see it, even when I pretend I don’t.”

Her arms slowly slipped around your waist, pulling you close, her chest pressing firmly against your back. She breathed in your warmth like it was the only thing tethering her to reality.

“You’re my partner,” Caitlyn whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the back of your neck. “I’m so sorry for forgetting that.”

Her lips trailed down the curve of your shoulder, each kiss as soft and sincere as the words that followed. “I love you,” she murmured between them, her breath warm against your skin. “More than I know how to say sometimes. And I’m so, so sorry I made you feel like you didn’t matter.”

You let out a slow, shaky breath. Her words were like a balm to the ache she’d caused, but the sting hadn’t fully gone away.

“You hurt me, Cait,” you said quietly, your voice still a little hoarse from holding back tears. “You’re supposed to be my person like I am supposed to be yours, and you made me feel like I was nothing.”

“I know,” she said, pressing another kiss to your shoulder. “I know, love. I won’t do it again. I swear it.”

Her arms tightened around you, like she was afraid you’d slip away if she didn’t hold you firmly enough. Slowly, you reached down, fingers intertwining with hers. Her breath hitched at the gesture, and you felt the tension in her body ease.

Silence stretched through the room a bit longer before you sighed, pressing yourself back into her a bit more while squeezing her hand.

“You’re lucky I love you,” you muttered, your voice soft but still a little rough.

Caitlyn let out a breath that was almost a laugh. She nuzzled her face into the crook of your neck, her lips brushing your skin. “I am,” she agreed, her voice tender and warm. “I am the luckiest.”

The rain outside softened into a gentle mist, the sound no longer sharp but soothing. Caitlyn stayed wrapped around you like that for the rest of the night, her fingers tracing lazy, absentminded shapes against your stomach. Her steady breathing lulled you toward sleep, and you could feel her heartbeat against your back, strong and steady.

The weight she’d been carrying wasn’t gone, but for tonight, it was lighter. She had you. She had always had you. And this time, she wouldn’t forget it.

[tojikai]

Sundered 5: QUARRELS

Pairing: Gojo x reader

Part 1  |  Part 2   | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Alt. Ending

Genre: Angst

tags/cw: angst, babydaddy!gojo, babymomma!reader, motherhood, insecurities, explicit smut, arguments, implied noncon

word count: 6.8k

This is close enough for a beggar like him.

“When Yui turns three…” Satoru turns to look at you with a small smile and a look in his eyes that you know too well not to understand at a glance. “When Yui turns three?” You urged him to continue, “...we make another one. Hopefully, a baby boy.” He pulled you on top of him as you laughed fondly.

“I can’t even count on my fingers how many times you said that already.” You giggled, kissing his blushing face. “I can’t have you forgetting. It’s a must. We make cute babies.” He spoke each sentence in between pecks. “ Yeah, but she’s only 5 months old, Satoru.” You put your head on his chest, feeling him caress your hair.

“I know, but I wanna tell you in advance.” Moments like this make you forget about all the problems and fights that you have with him. “But we’re gonna get married first, of course.” You looked up at him, watching his eyes glimmer. “You’re asking me to marry you?” You poked his side.

“Of course, what else am I gonna do with you?” He flips you over, kissing your neck and chest before attempting to pull the straps of your nighties down your shoulders. “This is for your daughter, don’t even try.” You pointed a finger at his nose as he pouted, “She’s asleep. Can’t I get a sip?” He wiggled his eyebrows at you making you giggle.

“What is going on with you?” He kissed your lips, joining you in your joy. Just two days ago, you and Satoru were screaming at each other’s faces because of how he got angry at you for talking back to his mother. She came into his house, trying to fight you because you got Yui’s ears pierced. You and Satoru agreed on it, but he didn’t like that you ‘talked back’ to his mom.

And now, it’s all gone. Washed away by his touches. Drowned away by his kisses and moans. “Remember when we did this while you were pregnant?” You could hear his smirk as he nibbled on your skin. You're now lying sideways with your hand holding one of your legs up. His strong arms were wrapped around your waist, caressing your lower stomach.

“Gonna put another one here in a few years.” He grunted when you reached for his hair, pressing him closer to you. “Satoru…” His breath on the shell of your ear only made you heat up more. You sobbed as his thrust got faster and harder. “Yeah, you want that.” He bit your ear lightly as you arched your back, whimpering.

You were just about to tell him that you’re close but Satoru got your body memorized. His hand was already trailing down to your womanhood, fingers rubbing on your nub as he coaxed you to your climax and followed shortly after. He finished inside you with your name flowing smoothly out of his lips. You stayed in the same position; with him still inside you as he pushed your legs together.

It was only one of those nights that made you believe that you’d be together until the end.

“...a new one?” Satoru’s voice snapped you back to reality. “Hm?” You turned to him, seeing that he was already staring at you. Yesterday, you and Toji fought. And today, you did again. Is the honeymoon phase they were saying already over? You gritted your teeth. “Are you still thinking about it?” Satoru’s voice was laced with concern as he drove.

Yesterday afternoon, you and Toji were talking about how much louder it gets when there are more kids around. Other than Yuuji, a little girl from their neighborhood named Nobara also joined—a name Yui cannot pronounce correctly but kept saying anyway. 

With four children running around the house, you and Toji could only communicate with eyes, teasing like a married couple planning for an addition. You two could only joke around the topic, though, knowing how serious and how big a responsibility it will be. 

Besides, your relationship is still young and you would like to get married first before taking a step like that. But marriage still feels pretty far for you and Toji.  

“Look, I’m sure he doesn’t mean it like that.” Satoru tried to comfort you. “His wife used to do that stuff and now he’s just sharing it with you.” He explained. You can’t help but feel like you were being petty. The kids had a playdate and you thought that making a bit of juice for their picnic would give them a better experience.

Toji started randomly talking about how his wife had little cousins and she refused to give them juice until they were 5 because it’s terrible for toddlers’ health. And though, you understand this, the way he said it just put you off. You felt like he was comparing you to her and you just didn’t like the way it made you feel. 

Before, there were times when he would mindlessly say that his wife introduced something to him or taught him to do something and you would think that he was probably just reminiscing. But now you just felt…sensitive. It just felt like you still had to compete even if there was no one to compete with.

“He’s probably just suggesting.” Satoru tried to explain for Toji, something you didn’t think would ever happen because they’re almost always wordless around one another. “Suggesting what? That I should do what his first wife did? And today he got upset that Yui and I would leave early to go with you.” Satoru sighed, nodding slowly.

Ever since that night, he’s been a lot more calm, more patient, and more careful with everything he does. “We should’ve canceled and moved it another day.” You looked at him, disbelief flashing on your face.

“Y/N, he’s your boyfriend now. It’s not good to leave a fight without talking first, even just for reassurance.” Whatever he’s been learning at counseling is definitely working, you thought. When he first told you about it, you didn't know how to react. Probably because you know that the cause of your problems is not just him. But also his mother.

“I told him we’ll talk later. He just doesn’t like that we have to spend time around each other like this.” Your voice was quieter. To be honest, you don’t know how to deal with that because it concerns your daughter too. “We can…we can just reduce times like this to milestones like birthdays and school events when she’s finally in school,” Satoru spoke, clearing his throat.

“I don’t think it’s that important anyway, Yui will understand that we’re separated soon. She’s growing fast.” You glanced at your daughter as she waves at the passing cars. Satoru’s right. “Yeah, I’ll just…I’ll talk to him about it.” Satoru probably doesn’t want it like that, but nowadays, he’s been…different. In a good way.

“By the way, I have a…my previous car. Do you remember? The one before this.” He asked, “Your car always breaks down. I mean…You can have it. So, you won’t have to take a cab when you take Yui to daycare, go to work, or pick her up from my place.” You can tell that he was nervous to ask you about it.

“Actually, if you want. I can ask Toji, so he won’t think of it as anything.” You looked away, thinking. You’re not the only one who has a significant other here; Naomi might think of it as something too. “You have to tell Naomi too.” You glanced at him through the rearview mirror. “Yeah…” He cleared his throat. 

Silence enveloped the three of you for several minutes until Satoru spoke again. “My counselor said it’s easy to mistake comfort for love.” Taking a deep breath, you chose your words carefully. “You can learn to love people and things.” There was a long pause along as you reached his house.  You checked on Yui to find out that she fell asleep.

“That sounds like resignation, Y/N. Love doesn’t need conditions.”  He mumbled, looking at his lap. “Let’s go, she’s getting uncomfortable.” You took Yui’s things before following him inside his house. “Don’t forget her vitamins, Satoru.” Humming, he opened the door for you with your sleeping daughter in his arms. 

To his surprise, the lights were on and there, his mother and Naomi sat on his couch.

“You took so long. Did you forget about your girlfriend?” His mother was the first to speak. “Why are you here, Mom? You’re early, Naomi.” Naomi glanced at you with a look on her face that you can’t quite read. There’s nothing sinister about it, in fact, she looked nervous.

“She’s early because she won’t be working full days anymore.” You stood there awkwardly, feeling invisible before Satoru took a step closer to you, “Since she’ll be a part of the family soon, I asked your father if he can take it easy on her workload. Lovers should spend time with each other as much as they can.” His mother continues, emphasizing the word ‘family’ as she gave a mocking glance your way.

She never once considered you as one. Not that you want to be related in any way to someone like her. You scoffed inside your head, seeing Satoru glance at you. “We do spend enough time together.” He spoke, “And why are you deciding for her, Mom?” He took the bags in your hand, “Let’s go to Yui's room.” 

“It’s okay, I won’t be staying for long anyway, I just wanted to drop her off.” After taking Yui to an inflatable indoor park, Satoru bought her a Hello Kitty cake just as you were about to go home. The kid was excited to open the cake with you, but you were reluctant because you don’t really want to be around Naomi. After being assured by Satoru that Naomi wasn’t supposed to come over until Friday, you finally agreed.

You should’ve trusted your gut, because here she is with Satoru’s mom, like a cherry on top.

“I’ll take you home, let’s just put her to bed, then we’ll go.” The child stirred in her sleep, adjusting her head on his shoulder, “Mama, cake.” She murmured, probably dreaming about her food. You looked at Satoru, catching him already staring at you and something tells you it’s gonna be alright even with these two people who seemingly want you out of your own daughter’s life.

“We’ll talk later,” Satoru spoke to them, gently nudging you toward your daughter’s room. “There’s literally nothing to talk about, son. We just wanted to make the two of you more free for each other. Can’t have others hogging all of your attention from your lover. She won’t appreciate that. Isn’t that right, Y/N?” You paused, glancing at Satoru.

“With your new boyfriend, doesn’t it irritate you when he uses his time for other things?” You can tell that his mother is trying to elicit a reaction from you. “The only thing my boyfriend does other than work is take care of his son.  And I will never put myself in between them.” Before his mother could even say anything, Satoru quickly took the stage.

“I said later, Mom. Naomi and I will talk. It’s our relationship.” With that, he walked with you into Yui’s room, closing the door behind him, careful not to wake his daughter up. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t think they’d be here.” You took Yui’s shoes and jacket off, before letting Satoru put her down. “I know, it’s okay.” Kissing Yui’s forehead, you could hear him whisper curse words.

“Hey.” You can tell he’s more than upset. This is probably more painful and exhausting to him than you thought. “I don’t know anymore, Y/N.” He turned away from you, running his hand over his face, “This. This is what’s making my life harder.” He gestured towards the door, referring to his mother. “This is what made our life harder.” You caught him saying as he shook his head.

“Just talk to them. Maybe there's a reason for this. She’s just naturally hostile with me.” You shrugged, knowing that he was speaking the truth. “That’s the point. She’s pointlessly hostile and she thinks she can decide for me.” Turning to you, there was redness in his eyes. 

Satoru didn’t want to seem like he was asking you for comfort. He refused to give you that before, he’d be shameless if he wanted you to hold him. “Let’s go. I’ll explain to Yui, we’ll call you later.” Blinking hard before opening the door, Satoru knows better than to allow his mother near you. You never told him but he knows that she slapped you when she came to your house.

They fought about it when he went to their mansion. Thankfully, his father backed him up with a speech about protective orders which shut her down. It pained him to be like that to his mom but he can’t just have her abusing you just because she can. 

Satoru walked beside you, covering you from his mother. “Satoru…” Naomi called out but his mother quickly spoke, “Doesn’t she have a car? Did it break down again? Ah, like before, when she wanted someone to take her home.” There was no hint of amusement in Naomi’s eyes, probably clueless as to what she was talking about. 

“I’m calling Dad to pick you up.” With that, he continued walking, leaving his mother with an angry look on her face. “That’d be good. He will be here to discuss things since he’s her boss. He might even give her a vacation. You and Naomi can go out of the country. Get close, plan things like marriage, children—” Stopping in his tracks, Satoru turned with his jaws clenched. 

“You know what? Maybe I shouldn’t leave my daughter here. After all, you threatened to take her away.” Walking back to Yui’s room, Satoru didn’t think twice as he grabbed your hand, making Naomi tense up. “Can she stay with you tonight? I’ll get her tomorrow.” He murmured, breathing hard as he picked his daughter up again.

“You think I’ll kidnap my own granddaughter, look what she’s making you think.” You can hear his mom as you rush to take Yui’s things. Whining, Yui covered her ears as Satoru walked her out of the room with you beside him. “I don’t need to kidnap Yui to get her away, her own mother isn’t even capable, what makes you think—” Satoru cut her off when he stood in front of her.

“I’m filing a restraining order.” He spoke, voice low as he tried to stay respectful despite what he was saying, “Against you.” His mother’s eyes widened in surprise, “Come on.” Ushering you out, and leaving his mother stunned. Opening the door for you, he then proceeded to fix his daughter in her car seat.

“Mama why?” You shushed her, caressing her hair, “We’ll eat cake at home.” You smiled at her, trying your best not to sound panicked before closing the door to finally get in the car. Satoru was about to get in the driver’s seat but Naomi came out of the house and ran to him. Glancing at you, she held his hand, “We’ll talk about it later.” He told her, checking if his mother followed. 

“Can’t you just…” Naomi was about to say something but held back, grabbed his collar, pulling him down to kiss his lips. You almost immediately looked away, seeing from your peripheral vision how she put Satoru’s arms around her waist. “Come home quick.” She whispered not so quietly at him. Getting in the car, you wondered if his mom told her about it.

“Naomi…” Satoru sighed, pulling away before looking at you with a concerned look in his eyes as he nodded away at her words. Leaving her, Satoru entered the car and started it. She stood there with a mixed look on her face that screams how irritated and upset she is with the events. 

“You don’t have to file a restraining order against her. She’s still your mother.” You didn’t have to say that but you felt like you’re the reason why there’s a gap between them now. “She’s not good for Yui. I can’t have her around speaking about you like that in front of her.” He was breathing hard. “Can you calm down? You’re driving.” 

“Sorry.” He muttered, before taking a deep breath. “I hope she won’t be there when I come back. I can deal with it on my own, whatever Naomi and I have to talk about.” He ranted, “I wish she didn’t intervene so much in everything I do. I feel like the decisions I made aren’t even mine.” He rarely talked like this back then. Actually, you rarely interacted like this back then.

“How’s…” Hesitating, he swallowed before continuing his question, “How’s Toji’s family to you?” He asked softly as if the information he’ll get can break him even more. It probably would. “He’s not that close to them, so they don’t really know much about us. I’ve met them twice when we picked up Megumi. They treat us kindly.” You glanced at him, seeing him purse his lips.

“That’s good for you. You won’t have to deal with something like this.” Satoru wanted to say that he’ll cut ties with his mother to protect you; to be with you. But knowing you, you’ll probably feel like it’s your fault and he doesn’t want that.

He’s aware that his mother influenced the decisions he made in the past. Talking to someone about it made him realize how wrong he approached things with you and how easily he let himself be swayed by the instant gratification that he felt when he gave up on your relationship. 

None of it was worth it. 

—--------------------------------------------------

Three Days Ago

“I can’t do that,” Naomi spoke as she tried to lean away from Satoru’s mom. They met at a cafe near her neighborhood. She was supposed to ask for advice, but it quickly turned into plotting how to lock Satoru to her. “Listen, Y/N was able to keep Satoru with her because they have a child together.” She tapped a sharp nail on the table.

Naomi would be lying if she said that she didn’t think about using that to get more of his time. She admit that she thought of a way to make him have a kid with her, even trying to lie about her safe day to make him do it inside her. She didn’t think that hearing it come from someone else can sound so sick and twisted.

If Satoru doesn’t want the kid, what’s going to happen to me; to us?

“Why are you worried? I’ve been in the same situation and I’m telling you, Satoru kept his father for me.” Naomi’s eyebrows bumped together as she thought of how easy it was for her to say something like that. “You did that to his father?” She asked in disbelief, wanting nothing but to go but desperate enough to stay.

“Not intentionally. But had I not told him, his ex-wife wouldn’t have left us alone and he wouldn’t have stopped running after her.” She took a sip of her coffee, making her seem so chill with her story. Naomi knows all of it for Satoru once told her. She just thought that his mother really baby-trapped his dad to make him stay.

Can Naomi really do that?

“You won’t baby trap my son, you just let him come to you. Attract him like you did back then.” She nodded at Naomi. “I just wanted to help him, then. I didn’t try to seduce him.” She defended herself, “But you did drink with him a few times? Tell me you didn’t get seductive with him during those nights.” She dared, and Naomi looked down.

She remembers telling him how she liked his eyes and how he was too hot to bury himself in problems. She also remembers nonchalantly telling him how he caught her eye when she first saw him. She knows that she liked to think of him and Yui as her own little family even before they started dating and she remembers promising him that they can make it work.

Was Naomi really being just a friend to him then? Or was she already falling for him when she tried to become what he needs during those times?

“Y/N was confident that she’ll get Satoru back and that’s why she let her guard down. Now, if you want to be her so much then, be happy-go-lucky and watch him dump you.” She shook her head, and the words easily got Naomi thinking twice. She’s not trying to be like you. She’s better than you. 

She’s better for him than you.

“Why do you hate her so much?” Naomi suddenly asked, thinking out loud as she carefully thought about her decision. I mean, she didn’t really do anything to me.” If she’s going to think about it, other than the misunderstandings— which were probably caused by something offensive she did or said—you’re never antagonistic towards her.

“She ruined my son’s life. I shouldn’t have expected anything knowing how she got him, but she even had the nerve to try and make him do all the work. She’s probably just after the money..” No matter how hard she tried to recall, Naomi can’t remember him sighing over having Yui with you. “And you think she didn’t really do anything to you? You’re a bit naive.” Naomi’s forehead puckered at her statement.

“Didn’t you notice how she got a new man only now when it started looking like Satoru’s sure about you?” His mother might just be overthinking things but it didn’t help that the changes in her and Satoru’s relationship were almost perfectly timed with you getting a boyfriend. But what if it’s just Satoru? It could’ve been a coincidence, right?

Realizing how she was trying to convince herself in her mind, Naomi only felt worse. Maybe she really has to do something. After all, she swore to him that they can make it work. She’s not someone to just back down and give up on the one she loves when things get tough.

She’s better than you, and unlike you, she won’t run away; she’ll fight for their relationship. 

—------------------------------------------

Arriving home, Yui was already wide awake. “...then, Dad will be back to buy a new cake with Yui! How’s that?” Satoru kissed her cheek as he put her down on the couch. The little girl got upset that her dad has to go so soon. She just stood there wordlessly, leaning on the couch as she refused to look at Satoru.

“It’s okay, I’ll talk to her. She’s just grumpy because her nap was disturbed.” Walking towards the little girl, you sat down and put her on your lap. “Say bye, now.” You pushed the stray hairs away from her face and Satoru can’t help but admire how much he missed just seeing the two of you waiting for him on his couch.

Yui was younger then; much smaller in your arms. And he felt like a real husband coming home to his wife and child when you’d be there, watching TV when he got home from work. It’s been more than a year now, he just thinks he’s lucky enough to still be close to you again. 

You’re not as close as he wants you to be but this is more than enough for a beggar like him.

Leaning down to give your daughter a kiss, she turned away from him. “Yui, that’s not nice.” Her mouth was quivering but you know her too well. “You better go, they’re waiting for you there.” You looked at him but he only stared at you, sighing deeply. You felt like it was the hundredth time today. 

He looked so worn out; like he was just ready to drop as soon as he gets these things out of his tail. You wondered if you looked like this to him back then, too. Probably not this bad because you don’t have a meddlesome mother who keeps trying to put her finger in the pie. 

Before Satoru could answer, a knock on the door was heard. The door opened and a little boy holding his sippy cup stood by the doorway. Toji held the doorknob, staring at you and Satoru. What time is it? You thought. You remembered telling him that you’d be back by 4 in the afternoon. Yui was quick to jump from your lap.

“Dada! ‘Gumi! Dada! ‘Gumi!” She squealed at them and you could feel Satoru tense up beside you. She had been told by Toji about it, but hearing it from her friend isn’t helping at all. Megumi looked up at Satoru before looking at Yui. “Hey, hey, hey. What’s my name?” Toji bent down to pick her up when she kept stomping her feet and reaching up at him.

“Dada!” She laughed, before pointing at Megumi who was now taking his little bag from his father’s hand. “You’ll play later. Listen, tell your Dada what my name is.” Toji repeated just as Satoru regained his composure. “It’s alright,” He chuckled, “She probably thought you’re her Dada because you take care of her. And her mom.” You wanted to stop him, feeling bad that he had to pretend that he's cool about this.

Yui’s first word was ‘Dada’ and you could still remember how happy he was when he got her to say it before ‘Mama’. You can’t stand the thought of that memory becoming painful for him. “I gotta go, I’ll just pick her up again tomorrow.” He whispered to you, before nodding to Toji. “Bye, love. See you, tomorrow.” He waved at Yui, faking a smile before rushing to leave.

Yui waved back at him before wiggling out of Toji’s arms. She rushed to get her toys when he put her down. “She’s…she’s a kid” Biting your lip, you breathed out through your nose before walking to Toji and putting your arms around him. “Don’t run.” He called out to the children as giggled their way to Yui’s room. “I feel bad. I’m gonna talk to him later.” You mumbled.

Toji kissed your forehead before you pulled him to your room. “What’s going on?” He asked you, sitting on the bed. “Are you worried?” You asked, straddling him. “I am.” He answered, ignoring your actions. You looked up at him with a frown, remembering the misunderstanding that you had. “Why was he here?” 

“Look, he just had to drop me and Yui off because his mother was in his house—” He cut you off, leaning away a bit from you. You know that you didn’t tell him that you were going to Satoru’s house with Yui because you were still upset about your argument the other day and earlier this morning. 

“You told me the time but you can’t tell me where you were going?” Perplexity was clear on his face, “I didn’t want to agitate you further. I wouldn’t tell you right now if there’s another reason why I’m there except for Yui.” You tried to explain, feeling him put you beside him on the bed. “Y/N, that’s not the point.” He sighed, closing his eyes.

“Then, what is? I wasn’t planning to stay for long.” You kicked off your shoes, before turning to him. “Look, I’m sorry, ok? I just thought you were mad because of earlier.” You hugged his arm, putting your forehead on his shoulder. “And I was still upset.” Kicking his own shoes off, Toji pulled you on top of him as he leaned back on the headboard

“You have to tell me why you’re upset. It can’t be just the orange juice.” He spoke, grabbing your face as he kissed you. You moaned, breathing into him as you opened your mouth, letting his tongue find yours. His grunts sent vibrations to your core as you press yourself against him. 

“Did you lock the door?” He murmured, taking off your cardigan before putting his hands on your buttocks. “Yeah, don’t worry.” You quickly took off your shirt before going back to kissing him, completely forgetting about what he was asking from you. 

“As long as we can hear the laughs, they’re fine.” He chuckled, unclasping your bra before taking a nipple in his mouth. “Oh…” You moaned rubbing on his shoulders and tugging at the fabric of his sweater. His other fingers tweaked at your bud as he stared up at you, lustful eyes taking away your worries.

You really just don’t want to tell him that the mention of his wife is starting to trigger you.

Taking off the clothing, he flipped you on your back, removing your belt and jeans. His lips trailed kisses on your thighs as he go, massaging your calves before parting your legs, making you inhale sharply. “We can’t drag this long. Come here.” You giggled, ushering him to hover over you. “You know how they are…” You moaned when he started to kiss your neck.

His tongue and teeth bring pleasure and a bit of sting on your skin. “You just want it that much.” Winking at you, he discarded his remaining clothes before hovering over your womanhood. He smirked as he slid your underwear down, kissing your pearl. “Toji…” You whined, worried that this might get cut short if he doesn’t hurry.

“Alright, alright. I can’t just stick in. Let’s see…” Spreading your lips with two fingers, he eyed your heat with furrowed brows and his mouth slightly ajar, you can’t help but rock your hips against his hand, desperate for friction. Your eyes shut close when he put a finger in, slowly at first, before speeding up when he added a second one.

Toji panted, stroking his member when he felt you squeeze his digits. You’re dripping and he’s starting to ache. “Fuck.” He muttered as he leaned over to go for your lips, kissing you hard. He growled in your mouth when you whimpered as he rubbed on your pearl while massaging the sensitive spot inside you.

Pulling away when your legs started to tremble, Toji hissed as he tapped his head on the bundle of nerves before rubbing his length on your wet folds to lube himself up. “Toji, please.” You cupped your mounds, looking up at him. Seeing you like this drove him crazy, he had to hold back from just slamming himself into you. 

Grabbing a pillow and putting it under your hips, Toji prodded your entrance with his tip. He opened your legs wider, taking in the sight of you being stretched and his shaft disappearing slowly until he was fully in. Leaning on the bed with one hand, he grabbed your jaw with the other and silenced your moans with his kisses.

“You can’t let them hear you.” He murmured as he clenches his jaw, pressing his nose on your cheeks and kissing it. He was moving steadily inside of you and whispering words of praises to your ear, “You take me so well now.” He teased you, groaning whenever your hole fluttered around him.

You gasped when Toji pushes your legs to your chest, pounding deeper into you as he sings your name like you do to his. His thrusts were unrelenting, merciless as he slams himself into you. Soon enough, your walls were starting to convulse and your nails were clawing on his arm. 

“Come on. Let it go, hon.” You closed your eyes, feeling your chest throb at the nickname he used but the surges of pleasure that took over your senses flooded it out. Your hand covered your mouth, eyes rolling back as you writhed underneath him, coming undone with a cry of delight escaping your lips.

Your thighs trembled under his touch as he continued to rut into you, desperate for his high. “Oh fuck…Oh, Y/N.” Feeling your walls spasm and contract around him, he hurriedly pulled out and spilled his load on your womanhood. A sight to see, he thought as he watched your thighs still shaking from the pleasure.

“Wait a minute," Reaching over to your cabinet, Toji took the box of tissues before wiping you and himself clean. Hearing the jolly screams from the other room made you both laugh to yourself. "That's too quick. We gotta continue this later." He winked, throwing the tissues away before getting on the bed with you.

"Definitely." You let out a tired laugh as you put your head on his shoulder, sighing as the heavy feeling settled on top of your chest. Why did you have to remember him just from that word alone? Toji tilted your head up for a passionate kiss, blurring away the image of your ex inside your head.

“I have a request, though.” You looked down, avoiding his curious gaze. “Can you….can we not use ‘hon’?” You don’t know how weirdly you phrased the question until you looked at Toji to see him looking puzzled. “I mean…this is the first time you called me that and I’m, uh, not really comfortable with that. “

“Yeah, alright. But why?” Maybe you should’ve thought this through. You know Toji’s been getting moody whenever you two talk about anything concerning Satoru. You can’t really blame him after what happened that night. “I just… don’t feel it.” You lied, shrugging. “It’s not that bad, though. I could get used to it.” You smiled up at him, pecking his lips.

“Alright, I think I know.” He exhaled harshly, standing up from the bed to grab your clothes. Great. You just ruined the moment. “Are you mad?” You sat up, watching him get dressed. “No, I just wanna check on the kids.” He is mad. You clicked your tongue, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Babe, I just don’t want to–“ 

“Y/N. I said alright. I can’t do anything about it, anyway.” That doesn’t fix anything. “A lot of people use that, I just don’t get why you keep getting affected.” You stared at him, baffled. “It’s not like I want to do that. I can’t help my mind, there was a memory attached to that word.” 

You stood up to get a robe, “You know that it’s not easy for me, too. I told you.” You uttered, watching his back through your vanity mirror as he stood still. “Maybe if you stop relating everything to him, then it won’t be so hard.” With that, he left the room and you don’t know if you’re hurt or just shocked that he would say something like that to you.

Because he does that to you too. And you thought that he, of all people, should understand where you’re coming from. 

—————————————-

Satoru slid the door open with force, seeing Naomi flinch as she was startled by the sound. “Where’s mom?” He asked, breathing hard and eager to just put an end to the craziness she was doing. “I convinced her that we’ll be fine.” She walked to him, smiling as she put her arms around his neck. 

“We just need to catch up on each other, I feel like we’ve been too occupied these days.” She buried her face in the crook of his neck, kissing the skin as she rubbed his nape with a soft, delicate hand. “Yeah, we got a lot to talk about.” Satoru put a hand on the small of her back. “But first, you gotta tell me what that was about.”

“I just invited her over. I didn’t know Y/N would be here, sorry.” She sighed, before dragging him to the couch. Satoru kept thinking about the scene before he left your house. That was just a lot to take in, especially when he just fought with his mother. “I got no work tomorrow, we can stay up all night.” She giggled, taking off her cardigan.

“Let’s have a couple of drinks during dinner. I’ll cook for you.” She proposed, walking to the kitchen. Checking his phone, he found himself expecting a text from you. None. You don’t give a fuck about him. He sighed, It’s okay. As long as I can see themi, he thought. He just hoped that you’d ask how things went in his house. Or if he’s hurt about ‘Dada’ Toji. All the things he shouldn’t expect.

Guess, I’ll fucking die of jealousy, then. He clenched his teeth proceeding to his bedroom. “I’ll wash up.” He spoke to Naomi, “Go on, baby. I’ll be making dinner.” She answered, glancing his way. If she’s going to be honest, she wanted to skip the talks. The truth is Naomi’s afraid of what he’ll say if she confronts him with her real thoughts.

She could easily skip those steps, and get to her goal.

Goal? Naomi’s movements halt as she realized how she sounded. She’s not a bad person, she thought. Is she really gonna do this? “If you want to be her so much then, be happy-go-lucky and watch him dump you.” Naomi’s breath hitched when his mother’s words reverberated in her head.

She can’t lose him. Not now when they’re almost settling down. She’s not being a monster, she’s not baiting him. He’ll come to her on his own like he did before. She’s just going to make him see that she’s good for him. 

Dinner time came and she prepared it more than ordinary, hoping to ignite a light in him. It’s not usual for a woman to start something like this but Naomi’s different. As she said, she’ll fight for him. “Wow, is this a date?” Satoru chuckled sitting down in front of her seat. “I just wanted to rekindle. Your mom’s right, we’re just drifting away. I can’t stand that happening.”

Walking to her chair, Naomi stopped by him and kissed his cheek. Satoru on the other hand, can’t help but feel bad. He’s sure that nothing will change even if they do this. “Try. She’s a good person.” He quickly downed a drink, letting it take your voice away. Not because he doesn’t want to listen to you, but because he’s not sure if he can do it. 

The dinner went by quickly, and they were just discussing over drinks. He can’t even count how many he downed when she started talking about how you look more plump. “They might beat us in giving Yui a sibling.” She joked, laughing because she didn’t know what was in his head. “I doubt it, she wanna get married first.” He replied monotonously before opening up about his counseling sessions.

“Counselling?” She asked. The topic is incredibly close to what Satoru’s about to confess. She stared at her wide eyes as he nodded. “Were you having problems? Baby, why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve helped you.” Her concern was sincere and it made him feel like a villain. “I wanted to be better for Yui.” And for Y/N. 

Clueless, she gave him a fond stare. “You’re a great father. Y/N knows that.”  There were times during the dinner when Satoru was so close to spitting out the truth to her but the effort she put in just to make that food on the table makes him feel remorseful. 

Satoru knows that it’s not right. But just for tonight, after all the months that he made him feel tranquil, he can spare her heart for a night or two. He didn’t want to hurt her, he didn’t want to break her heart. But staying would only mean that she’s never going to get what she wants and deserves.

“I’ll be brushing my teeth then, get to bed. The drink got to me.” He laughed, holding the chair as he stood up. “Thank you so much. For everything.” She came to hug him, kissing his lips as she murmured words of adoration to him. “Go ahead, you’re all red, can you walk?” She joked, before pushing him to go, “I’ll be with you in a few. I feel really sleepy now, too.” 

It’s been almost half an hour. Naomi checked on Satoru to find him sleeping soundly already. Not even her slam of the door woke him up. She stared at herself in the mirror, “I’m really gonna do this.” She exhaled, closing her eyes before going walking out of the bathroom. He’s still in the same position as before. 

Stepping closer, Naomi removed her silk robe, revealing her night dress. She clenched her fist tightly, before quickly releasing it just to try and get rid of the tension in her body. She sat on the bed, touching his chest and abs. Hearing him moan when she got to his lower part calmed her slightly. Just like we always do, she repeated in her head, kissing his skin.

“I’m sorry, Satoru…” She whispered one last time.

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[fear-is-truth]

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 — 𝑺𝑷𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬𝑹 𝑹𝑬𝑰𝑫.

kinktober day 6 — period sex | tags ; nsfw. mdni. 18+ . f!reader. vāginal fingering. menstrual blood. smut

you lay curled up in bed, the yellow glow from your bedside lamp the only source of light in the room. a book rested in your hands, but you could barely focus on the words. the dull, throbbing ache in your abdomen made it nearly impossible to concentrate. your period had arrived with a vengeance this time, the cramps more persistent than usual. every so often, you’d shift positions, trying in vain to find some relief, but nothing seemed to help.

just as another wave of pain hit, the bedroom door creaked open, and your boyfriend walked in, carrying his own stack of books from the living room. noticing the slight grimace on your face, he set his books on the dresser before crossing the room to sit on the edge of the bed beside you.

“hey,” he murmured, “how are you feeling?”

“i’m okay, just… cramps. i’ll be fine.”

“have you taken anything for the pain?”

“yeah, but it’s not really doing much,” you admitted, closing your book and placing it on the nightstand.

“i’m just trying to distract myself.”

he let out a sympathetic sigh, eyes soft with concern as he watched you wince from another cramp. without a word, he slipped his hand beneath the duvet, fingers gently brushing against your lower abdomen. you’d tried this on yourself plenty of times—massaging the ache away—but it never did much to help. however, the moment spencer’s warm palm touched you, it was different. a pleasant shiver ran through you, and before you could stop it, a quiet moan escaped your lips.

spencer, being well…spencer, immediately picked up on the change. his head tilted slightly, curiosity flickering in his eyes as he continued to rub slow, soothing circles over your skin. but this time, his thumb dipped lower, brushing lightly just above the waistband of your sweats. you stiffened, the ache in your belly momentarily forgotten as a different kind of heat spread through your body.

he felt the way your thighs instinctively pressed together beneath the blanket, and his eyes sharpened with interest, a shift in his posture as he watched you. “does that help?” he asked, brown bambi eyes unblinking, though there was a slight edge to his tone.

you swallowed, struggling to steady your breathing. “i—i think so,” you whispered, but even you weren’t convinced by the tremble in your own voice. it wasn’t just the relief from the cramps anymore. he was silent for a beat, fingers lightly trailing across your arm. pensive, as if recalling something from the endless archive of information in his mind. then, in a matter-of-fact tone, he said,

“you know, intercourse can actually help with menstrual cramps.”

your brain stalled for a second. “w-what?” you spluttered, face flushing with heat, unsure if you’d heard him correctly. spencer cleared his throat, completely unbothered by the topic. “intercourse releases endorphins and oxytocin, which can act as natural painkillers. it also helps relax uterine muscles, which would ease the cramping. studies have shown—”

“okay spence, i get it.”

“do you want me to make love to you?”

your entire body tensed, heat flooding your face as you stared up at him, wide-eyed. it wasn’t the question itself that flustered you—but the fact that the answer was secretly, undeniably, yes. you felt deprived, body aching not just from the cramps but from wanting something more. but at the same time, embarrassment washed over you, making it impossible to respond. you opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out. instead, a strangled noise left your throat, and you quickly tore your gaze away, burying your face in the pillow.

but spencer knew you better than anyone, and as he studied you, understanding slowly dawned on his face. his hand stilled for a before sliding up to your cheek, tilting your head gently so you could meet his gaze again.

“you don’t just want me to make love to you,” his thumb grazing your bottom lip, “you want me to fuck you.”

you couldn’t hide the way your body reacted—the flush of heat, the way your thighs instinctively pressed together again.

“yes.”

the moment the word left your lips, he surged forward, capturing your mouth in a passionate kiss that stole your breath away. his tongue shoved between your teeth and into your mouth, his hands cupping your face. groaning, you kissed him back just as desperately, fingers tangling in his hair. fingernails dug into the nape of his neck but he didn’t seem to notice nor care. without breaking the kiss, spencer’s arms slid under you, lifting you off the bed. your legs wrapped around his waist as his hands gripped your hips, holding you tightly against him. when he finally pulled back, you were breathless, eyes half-lidded as you blinked in confusion. you hadn’t even realised he’d moved you until you glanced around and saw the bathroom tiles beneath your feet. his chest heaved slightly, dark eyes locked on yours as he set you down.

made sense. it’d be less of a hassle to clean up. jesus christ, you were really going to do this. you were going to let spence fuck you while you were on your bloody period.

he reached over and turned the water in the shower on and then started unbuttoning his shirt. “take off your clothes and get in,” he instructed. his tobey had gotten more authoritative, and it sent a pleasant shiver through you.

you stripped quickly, allowing your sweatpants and panties to fall onto the floor without sparing a glance, telling yourself to be grateful that you were using a pad instead of a tampon today. just before you could step into the shower, spencer wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, tugging you back against his chest, his chin resting on the top of your head

“wait, hold on.”

“what?”

his hands wandered up to your chest, squeezing your breasts absently, but it was his words that sent a shock through you.

“do you want just my fingers… or my cock?”

your knees felt weak at his words.

when you didn’t respond immediately, spencer leaned over and dragged his tongue across the cartilage of your ear while his fingers pinched your hard nipples, sending another vicious jolt of pleasure through you. he sucked on your earlobe, drawing a moan from your lips. his voice was husky now as he repeated the question, carefully enunciating each word as if talking to a petulant child,

“let’s try again. do you wish me to finger-fuck you or do you want my cock inside you?”

condom, the word clanging noisily into your lust-induced stupor. that was why he was asking. you were aching with desire more than cramps by now, so you craned your neck to look him square in the eyes.

“both. i want both.”

the smirk he gave you was almost predatory, his eyes dark with intent. without a word, he bent down and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, a contrast to the heat building between you. then, he started to undress while you slipped into the shower, the hot water hitting your skin in a rush. you hurried, rinsing yourself off quickly, suddenly aware of every inch of your body as self-consciousness crept in. your hands moved faster, wanting to clean yourself before he joined you. but before you could finish, the shower curtain rattled, and spencer was there, stepping in behind you.

he spun you around, crowding you against the cold tile wall. long fingers slid in between your legs and rubbed experimentally at your heat, but you shook your head.

“do it, now. i don’t, ahhh–” spencer shoved two fingers inside you unceremoniously, hitting right where you’d been aching. normally, you enjoyed the foreplay aspect of sex, but right now you didn’t want tenderness. you wanted to be ravaged by him. truly fucked by him.

his thumb pressed against your clit and you arched your hips, urging his fingers deeper and to start moving. spencer took the hint, following the pace you started. long fingers scissored inside you, slowly curling against your front wall with practised precision. you were a whimpering mess, hands gripping his forearms for balance. your orgasm hit you in what felt like a few seconds.

it took about a minute for you to come down from your high, pretending not to notice that spencer was rinsing blood off his fingers. it didn’t seem to bother him, though, because he bent down and kissed you roughly, before hoisting you up by the thighs and settling you between the wall and his hips. pausing for a moment to let you wrap your legs around his waist. he positioned himself at your entrance, so that the tip of his cock was spreading your lips open. your head fell back and gently thudded against the wall—your cunt was already fluttering in anticipation, too far gone to care what was coming out of your mouth. frenzied with lust, you practically snarled,

“fuck me, spence. fuck me hard.”

he sank his cock into your awaiting warmth without hesitation. your eyes widened and a little “ooh-” escaped as you relished the delicious sensation of him filling you. the blood acted as lubricant, allowing him to slide in easily and the burning stretch alongside the cramps melted into pleasure.

“o-oh god, yes.”

spencer understood the assignment. he was methodical—slamming his cock into your pussy with calculated, deep strokes. the continuous plap plap plap of smacking flesh could be heard over the running water as he continually rammed his hips into yours, practically fucking you into the wall. eyes rolling to the back of your head, your cunt started to clench around him as he replaced the ache with pleasure. your arms and legs tightened around him as you felt the hot coil in your belly tighten.

a small voice in the back of your head warned of the potential dangers—a slip, a fall, and a shameful trip to the hospital with a mild concussion. however, any lingering inhibitions dissipated when spencer angled his thrusts in just the right way, hitting the right spot that made you see stars.

the orgasm peaked but did not fade entirely as spencer kept up his tempo, and in mere seconds, you were nearing another climax. he gripped tightly to your ass with one hand so that he could slide the other between you. long fingers found your swollen clit and immediately started to rub viciously, and soon, the third orgasm exploded through your body. you threw back your head and mewled, the white-hot pleasure almost too much to endure before it gradually dissolved into slow waves of ecstasy.

the tempo of his thrusts had become sloppier, and you could feel the slight tremour in his muscles. you sucked hard at his adam’s apple, teeth scraping against his skin. spencer groaned in your ear and buried himself deeply into you a few more times until you felt him come inside of you.

“feel better?” he pressed a kiss to your temple.

“much better.”

 fear-is-truth 2024 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[sideblog-ver3]

big dick steve (18+)

spider webs and vampire boobs

“if you were to throat fuck me, i’d probably vomit from my gag reflex.”

the rustling of steve moving his head on his cotton pillow filled the quiet room. “what the hell are you talking about?” his voice holding a bit of thickness in the back of his throat.

now you turned your head from staring at the ceiling to look at steve on your left. “well cause you have a big dick-“ “thanks for the ego inflation.”

you teasingly smack a hand into steve’s chest, he held it down with his own limb. “i can barely take half of you when going at my own speed. and i was just thinking about how when you put your hands on my head and give me a little push, i worry i might vomit. i’ve had girlfriends tell me it’s happened to them before. and if that were to happen to me i’d ask you to kill me right on the spot.” all seriousness coating your words.

steve’s big brown eyes stared you down as his bushy brows rose at your last sentence. your linked hands gently rising and falling with steve’s even breathing. “first, you’re being extra dramatic. second, if you even feel that way when i get more…forceful, you should smack my thigh or something. don’t just take it.”

you pushed up to your elbow and halfway leaned over steve, bed head framing your face, “no, yeah, i know that. you aren’t like forcing me all the way so i’m fine, but something i just think about those guys in porn. you know?” a squint to your eyes trying to determine is steve understands what you mean.

now steve pushing onto his elbow with a similar squint, “what kind of porn are you watching? and why?”

a painted finger traced over steve’s hairy chest, “nothing crazy. and it’s mostly just for inspiration. that one trick i did yesterday, got it from porn. and you seemed quiet pleased if i remember correctly.” smirking as you leaned forward to peck at steve’s rosy lips.

he hummed in content, “and i absolutely did. but anyway, why don’t we train you. if you want we can prep your throat better.” a palm rubbing at your bicep comfortingly.

“anything to suck your dick, baby.” already shuffling your way down his body and pulling away his comforter.

his bare lower body was a delicious sight to behold. dark hairy thighs on display, your mind wanting to bite into them. his thick, long cock starting to move on its own, going from soft to hard in a minute.

“excited for my training?” a teasing tone with seductive eyes directed towards steve who laid back down, hands folded behind his head. a cocky smirk tugging his lips. “anything involving you gets me excited quickly.”

“just don’t get too excited. gonna need your cock for a while, baby.” planting your hands to his thighs while positioning yourself.

“take all the time you need.”

you leaned closer to steve’s cock, allowing a small glob of spit to drip from your mouth. his dick twitching at the sensation. steve moaned softly, his eyes fluttering shut and mouth opening in a small gasp.

moving in for the action, you swiped the flat of your tongue to the underside of his dick, going from his hairy balls to the top. hungry eyes watching steve’s every reaction, it only spurred you on for more.

“just getting started, baby.” finally wrapping your right hand onto his cock, fingertips not touching. you started with slow strokes, using your spit for lube.

steve quietly whined with each stroke, his stomach flexing to control himself. seeing that his cock was fully hard, now was the time to begin. sticking your tongue out, you kitten licked at the tip a few times, enjoying the twitch of reaction from the wet muscle.

“baby- fuck-“ a groan cutting steve off as you opened your mouth and took about four inches confidently. lips wrapping around the skin as you bobbed your head, right hand stroking at the lonely bits.

steve moved his hands from behind his head to sit on his torso. one touching his v-line while the other traveled to sit in your hair. you couldn’t help but stare at his long fingers, digits that fuck your cunt or get stuffed into your mouth and you happily suck on them.

slowly you pushed yourself forward, gaining another three inches. only about two more and you have him completely sitting in your mouth. his cock was heavy on your tongue, saliva slipping from the sides of your mouth.

you pulled away quickly when you felt the telltale sign of a gag. you coughed a bit when your throat was free, spit falling to land on your chest.

“not- not bad, but you could do better, doll.” steve grabbed a fist full of hair and tugged. a signal to show what he was about to do.

“yes, daddy.” allowing for steve to guide your mouth back to his awaiting cock. with a bit more force he shoved your head down onto him, nose almost brushing with his bush of pubes.

“atta girl.” he purred with his head thrown back and hips bucking up, tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat.

you closed your eyes and just focused of the feel and weight of him. letting your tongue toy with his underside and nails dig into the meat of his thighs. you took slow inhales through your nose, calming yourself and relaxing your throat.

giving yourself a minute of composure, you started to bob your head back before going in. out and in, out and in, out and in. more drool pooling from your filled mouth, soaking steve’s dick nicely for easily traction.

“al- almost there. swallow or spit?” steve looked down at you with a fucked out face. teary eyes just stared back up to him and you didn’t budge an inch.

“swallow. good girl.” steve took back some rein and pushed your head down as he fucked his hips up. you moaned in pleasure at the sensation, both from the grip on your hair and the roughness in your mouth.

“i’m- i’m gonna…” shots of warm liquid hit the back of your throat. you hummed on his dick, his groaned at the action.

steve released your hair and you slowly pulled off his cock, wanting to lick it clean of his cum, humming to yourself at the salty taste.

“see, all we had to do was train you.”

[mesetacadre]

what are your thoughts on the importance of theory to being a militant communist or activist vs things like survival skills (?) ? incredibly broad generalizations but it seems like stuff like that is shared around/emphasized more in anarchist circles. are there any non theory topics that you think is pertinent for burgeoning communists to learn? like, if youre serious about organizing you should learn first aid or this and that. very sorry if this is incoherent, english is a pain @~@

Well, survival skills for what? survival where? if you're in the imperial core, communist praxis does not look like grabbing a rifle and heading to the nearest mountains in a 5 person cell. And for what reason? First aid is useful, of course, for in the daily activity of a militant you can encounter situations that can cause physical harm, whether it's the police or trespassing. You need to ask yourself these questions and you need to realize that if you're organized in a party, you're not simply an individual in a group of other individuals like anarchists believe, you're part of the collective class effort to achieve the short and long term goals that are in our interests as a class. Survival skills are only useful it your activity in the framework of your collective, class objectives call for acting in an environment where that's necessary. Similarly, first aid is most useful when it's part of the strategy of your organization, though I would consider it useful to know regardless.

And most importantly, you can only properly figure out if you need these supplementary skills if you have a developed praxis. Praxis is not just the fancy marxist word for practice, here I'm referring to the actual meaning of praxis, which is the dialectical synthesis of theory and practice, facing their contradictions and arriving at a new conception of your work that integrates both elements. It is not a sum, synthesis is a transformative process that arrives at something new, which may or may not share component parts with the previous elements. Praxis, what cyclically informs and corrects itself through that constant dialectical synthesis is what will allow you, as an organized communist first and foremost, to take decisions as to what skills x amount of people in the organization need to learn. Theory, just like practice, is required for that.

Theory is not a dead thing, it's not the old books and the texts themselves. When you read theory you don't do it to think "wow these people 120 years ago were so smart I need to to exactly like them", you do it to learn how they went about anylizing their concrete reality, and how that allowed or disallowed their success. For example, Lenin in What is to be Done talks about how important the newspaper is to bring the party's full fledged analysis of the questions of the time to a lot of workers efficiently. This is 1905 Russia, in which modes of communication was the printed word and if you're lucky having an educated cadre or two in the territory who understand the positions or can come to their own, and communicate them correctly.

The reason trotskyists still to this day put so much emphasis on the newspaper, at least like I've always seen justified, is because they take this passage and apply it acritically to modern concrete conditions. Newspapers are not inherently the best way to communicate revolutionary positions, but instead of using that theory to better understand their tasks and come to a good concrete conclusion for their concrete reality, they read the book and do what the book says. Beyond a historiographical interest, who cares what Lenin said bolsheviks should use to deliver their message! what's interesting is learning how the bolshevik party, the first successful revolutionary marxist party, came to their conclusions and took the decisions that allowed them to have that victory. This is the value theory has, it's a necessary component part of praxis, the dialectical synthesis of practice and theory, which is the base of everything communists en pos de their political goals.

About what I think people should learn, I don't think there's a good general answer. there are many types of work to be done, and in non-extraordinary cases you, as a new member, will encounter those necessities gradually, to the point I don't really see the necessity of telling people to pre-emptively learn anything. If you can do it, no matter how little you've read or how shy or how unprepared you feel, get organized. Most of the questions you have about what organizing requires have answers and the only people that hold those are the people you'll organize with.

[justjudethoughts]

The hardest part about recovering from Religious OCD is that you are eventually going to have to make the most terrifying leap of faith in the world: to admit that you have done all you can, and trust that God is going to take care of the rest.

For someone who has never experienced OCD, that probably doesn't sound scary at all. But believe me, when you seriously believe that your immortal soul is on the line, that kinda of trust take every last thing you have.

To trust that He wants you in heaven more than you want to be in heaven. To trust that He knows how much you love Him, even when you think that you aren't positive that you love Him. To trust that jumping through hoops isn't what gets you to heaven—His arms are.

For a Catholic, that probably looks like trusting your loved ones when they tell you that you don't need to go to confession. "Okay, but what if I did that time, and it happens to be the ONE time I wasn't obsessing?" 1) the likelihood of that happening is slim to none BUT 2) if it did, do you really think a God Who is love and mercy itself would hold that against you? Don't you know that He knows how confused and scared you are? Don't you know that He knows that you are trusting your loved ones because your brain can't be trusted? Don't you know that He knows that you love Him so much you want to never, ever, ever hurt Him, and you are just trying to be healthy? That is the leap of faith you have to make.

For an Evangelical, it likely looks like doing your best to dismiss questions about whether or not you are saved. You did what you knew to do. You repented, you were baptized, you love God and you are continuing to seek Him out. "But what if I didn't repent right?" --- If you weren't repentant, you wouldn't be worried about it. You love Jesus with everything in you. I know you do. Because if you didn't, you wouldn't be sobbing over the sinner's prayer, trying to say it "correctly." Jesus knows. Jesus knows Your heart, and He came to earth for you, and the misfiring neurons in your brain are not going to be what determines your eternal salvation. He wants you. And you want Him. And that's enough. That's your leap of faith.

And some point, you have to throw your hands in the air and say "Jesus, I did everything I can. I'm scared, and I'm confused, and I don't understand anything, and I don't know what to do anymore. So will you figure it out for me?" And rest in that. Because He will figure it out for you. You don't need to be solving all those mental puzzles. He knows the answers.

He is not mad at you for being confused. He is not upset with you for being scared. He is not angry that you don't have all the answers. Righteousness is not necessarily determined by clarity. He is not impatient with you for being a little lost. He does not begrudge you for your illness.

That is the scariest leap of faith you will ever take. But brothers and sisters, there is freedom on the other side. There is joy on the other side. And Christ will catch you when you jump.

[hellsslibrary]

IMMA BE HONEST (and if possible, could this be a request?),, the first time i saw Vil when he kept checking his makeup and talking to Cater in the beginning of the game I just KNEW I had to have him whining with mascara colored tears running down his cheeks and his body being flushed red all over while making him face a mirror and telling him how pretty (or even how much of a slut)he’s looking like…

"In the garden of my heart, your love is the most beautiful and enduring flower, blooming every day."

#a.n. : SAME! And... Yay, I've got my earliest requests underway... Maybe I'll post a couple more today, I guess. This was a pleasure to write, by the way. I love this stuff.

MASTERLIST is here.

!!Warnings: top!dom!male!reader, sub!bottom!Vil, mirror sex, praise kink (borders on worship), just romantic and fairly vanilla sex, but for those who like more intense sex I added some light dacryphilia, use of the word "slut", and spanking (literally once), make-up traces, light marking.

"You're so perfect, see? Every curve, literally every part of your skin is so emphasized... I never thought that even now, when I can barely see you, I would still see you so well," escapes your lips, causing Vil's fingers to clench on the smooth surface of the mirror, making a not very pleasant sound, but what does it matter?

How did you even end up here? You were just looking at Vil combing his hair before going to bed. This beautiful strawberry blonde hair with a slight lilac tint... You could admire it forever. And him even more so.

You yourself did not understand at what moment your arms wrapped around his waist, whispering random tenderness in his ear, making him smile faintly. And the next second, he moaned quietly and looked at you over his shoulder with a stern look when your palm was clearly too close to his ass. "What are you doing, hm? We were both sleepy a few minutes ago, if I remember correctly."

And yeah, he's right. You thought you'd pass out the moment you had this physical manifestation of Aphrodite in your arms, but now that he's actually in your arms... How can you resist being a little selfish and taking away his beauty sleep, right?

And here we go again...

"Why do we even need candles? We could do this without any light at all..." You hum in displeasure at that, spreading Vil's cheeks slightly and watching your cock disappear inside him. It was barely visible, but you could visualize it with ease from how many times you've seen it.

"Without light? No. I need to see every part of you... Just look at yourself," your fingers pull his head down from your shoulder, forcing him to look at his reflection.

It was a coincidence that he hadn't had time to wash off his makeup today, and that only played into your hands. It was a huge rarity, those moments when he let you fuck him while his face was still covered in makeup... He didn't like to look sloppy, but who else says he looks sloppy?

His neck is framed with light, rare hickeys that he allowed you. And even a small bite on the back of his head! Usually he only lets you mark his thighs, since no one else except the two of you can see that part. But today he was either generous or tired.

Purple eyes closed convulsively when your cock entered at an angle that was too pleasant. A quiet cry escapes his lips when you give him a light slap on his thigh, and he opens his eyes again, forcing himself to look at his reflection.

A couple of candles lit in the room were indeed on your side. They hid you behind Vil's back, but they showed him completely. He whimpers from his own reflection, a thought flashing through his head about understanding what you can see in him even in this form. "Look at yourself, okay? If you can keep your eyes on me until you cum, then... I'll give you a massage afterwards, okay?" he nods immediately, not even thinking about what you said, just hearing that something good is waiting for him.

His body twitches every time your shaft penetrates as deep as this position allows. It was surprisingly good, even too good. The blond can't remember when your intimacy brought him to this state. It was overwhelmingly good. His brain was boiling, literally turning into mush. Deprived of the last thoughts that flew away like water lilies on the surface of water bodies.

"Bend over for me, please? It will be a little more comfortable, my queen," tenderly escapes from your lips, he instinctively arches, although Vil clearly does not even realize what you are asking for.

His hand slides down, his slender fingers digging into your thigh, his forehead resting on his hand, still on the mirror. Sobs escape his lips as his eyes glaze over. The only thing he knows is that he's crying from pleasure. Pleasure that's too overwhelming.

"Is it okay, Vil? Should I slow down?"

Your question makes him break the vacuum of the pleasure haze he's trapped in, just a little. He shakes his head slightly, mumbling something unintelligible, though knowing that you won't be satisfied, he mumbles,

"Okay... I'm o-okay. It just, agh, feels s-so good."

"Wonderful. I'm glad you like it so much... After all, your beauty is meant to be admired in any state," your loving whisper makes him chuckle, mixed with a whine, as one of your hands reaches just past his hip and wraps around his engorged cock. "So beautiful and graceful, like the paintings of the best masters... Such an incredibly beautiful voice that you want to hear nothing but it. Such a beautiful figure that you want to memorize every curve and every part, to know where it pleases you the most."

His cock involuntarily twitches a couple of times while you whisper your praises breathlessly. He feels such a painful, yet so desirable knot in his stomach, you both feel that he is almost at the limit.

"So what? Are you ready to cum for me, pretty boy? To cum on my cock, like the good slut you are?"

The world seems to stop as soon as it leaves your lips. You call him that without realizing it... He's never heard you say such vulgar things to him before and it's... Surprisingly pleasant, especially mixed with your praise bordering on worship.

His cock twitches in your hand and he cums with a too loud, surprisingly high-pitched moan; his head falls back on your shoulder and his eyes squeeze convulsively, a couple of transparent but black tears fall on your shoulder and white liquid paints the mirror in front of you.

You gently push his head back forward, kissing the back of his head while he lets you make a few more thrusts before you cum inside... Normally he would object, but you're going to shower now anyway, and you'll have to wash him too, so he won't say a word now.

"You... It w-was something. You never... Oh, never ca-called me that," he mumbles barely audibly, sobbing from the remains of tears and only now you realize what you called him and your brain instantly sobers up.

"I didn't m-mean it, I didn't mean it... I'm sorry, I said it unconsciously, I was just too deep in—," he puts a slightly trembling finger on your lips, smiling lightly and moving between your legs.

"I didn't say that I didn't like it, it was just surprising to hear it from you like that," Vil chuckles, turning to you completely and kissing your cheek, and then hugs you around the neck and sighs contentedly when your hands took him under his hips, slowly standing up on legs slightly trembling from a recent orgasm. Oh... Right now you want nothing more than to fall asleep, but the handsome man in your arms will kill you if you don't wash him... Not that you mind that outcome either, hehe.

[andhumanslovedstories]

you think often of how nurses should speak and relate to patients, and i highly appreciate knowing you put this kind of thought in and share it with other nurses. but as someone who often occupies the patient position, i'm curious if you have any thoughts on ways for patients to interact with nurses, when we are in decent enough control of our faculties to make choices about that. i would like this knowledge from both an altruistic perspective in recognizing nursing is difficult and not wanting to voluntarily make it difficulter, and a wholly self interested position of knowing nurses who like interacting with me give better care. what helps as a professional and as a person?

I'm surprised how much I had to think about this question. What do I want patients to do? I don't know. A lot of it is basic human decency, some of it is specific to my nursing workflow, but overall I find it complicated saying what patients "should" do. I cut out about 500 words of navel gazing from this post explaining why. Here are answers I've come up, in no order and not of equal importance.

--a lot of it is basic "polite interaction with another person in a professional setting." If you're asking this question, you probably care about treating people well in general. If you wouldn't say it to a barista, would you say it to your nursing tech?

--don't do joke answers to basic orientation questions like "what's your name" and "where are you right now", because it's annoying to have to clarify if you're actually confused or if you're fucking with me. I know they're annoying. Just answer correctly so we can move on.

--have some flexibility and patience. Hospitals have a lot of moving parts, and each person interacting with you has other patients that also need care. My hospital and state has mandated nursing ratios. The maximum amount of patients I've had in one assignment is five. Other hospitals have far less protection, and nurses may have six, eight, twelve other patients. Our respiratory therapists each cover multiple units. One CNA might cover the entire floor. I know if melatonin is the difference between you sleeping or not sleeping, it is very frustrating for someone to bring it late. I just ask you keep in mind that there's dozens of reasons that might happen besides someone ignoring you.

--help us help you. If you can lift your arm up for me to put a blood pressure cuff on, why are you holding your arm completely limp so it's like putting pants on a toddler than doesn't want to get dressed? If you can help roll yourself in bed, help us roll you. If your IV is beeping, hit the call light so someone can come turn it off. If you don't have urgency issues and you can tell you're going to need to go to the bathroom soon, call before it's an emergency. If your IV hurts when I give you medication at 8 pm, tell me then, not when I'm trying to give you your midnight antibiotic and all the evening staff have already gone home.

--if you don't understand how something works in the hospital (what happens when you hit the call light, how often are people going to take your vital signs, why can't I get up and walk around the room), just ask. It's really easy for people who work in a hospital every day to forget other people aren't familiar with it.

--don't treat doctors noticeably better than you treat everyone else.

--pet peeve number one: if I give you pills in a med cup, you can just use the med cup to get the pills to your mouth. You don't need to pour the pills into the palm of your hand and then pop them into your mouth. You're gonna drop the pills, and I'm gonna end up on the floor looking for a tiny tablet of dilaudid.

--bundle requests, especially low-importance ones. If you ask for crackers and you know crackers make you thirsty, just request your drink at the same time. Don't make me walk to your room, the nutrition room, and your room again ten minutes later.

--I don't expect people in the hospital to be pleasant all the time, and I don't take snappiness personally, but I always really appreciate the patients who apologize or even just acknowledge their behavior.

--I love patients who acknowledge my work. I don't need effusive praise or a thousand thank yous. It means a lot for someone to just be like "hey, thanks for your help tonight."

--have patience with repeating yourself. If you've got something important and complicated to convey, practice a quick understandable blurb that takes no brain power from you. There may be something that you've told the staff a dozen times, and it may be documented in your chart, but in the hospital you see many people who have never worked with you before and for whatever reason didn't read that info in your chart. For example, I'm a float pool nurse which means I almost never see the same patients twice. I can get sent to a different unit and a different patient load at literally any time. I can't familiarize myself with complicated documentation or read every nursing note. Especially not for patients I know I will only have for four hours. I know repeating yourself is annoying, I know it sucks to have to explain your bathroom routine or your preferred pain med or when you like to get pills or whatever every shift. And it's great when people make that information very easy to find! But if you just accept the reality you'll be repeating yourself a lot anyway, it makes doing so less frustrating.

--pet peeve number two: don't exaggerate to make a point. This is such a human thing to do, and god knows I catch myself doing it all the time, but you can raise objections in a way that's factually true. I've got a lot of concrete data that people are very often wrong when they say they're been "waiting for hours" after hitting a call light. The computer has a time stamp of the last time I was in your room. I know it was 45 minutes ago. There's a timer by the call light. I know you called twenty minutes ago. And I know it feels much longer when you are waiting for basic cares or pain control or anything pressing. Things can be unacceptable without needing to be exaggerated. When the exaggeration is the base of your complaint, it undercuts your credibility. Honestly I find it really irritating when I spend a disproportionate amount of my shift with one patient only for that patient to tell another staff member that I've been neglecting them. Just say I did a bad job, don't pretend I wasn't there at all.

--don't ask me to pull my mask down so you can see my face. like cmon dude.

--I'm not saying you have to send all your visitors out of the room when I'm there, I'm just saying have some sympathy for how nerve-wracking it can be to do your job while being intensely watched by five other deeply invested people with limited context for your actions.

--this is a nebulous and difficult one. You might have a lot of emotion that you don't know what to do with. What you shouldn't do with it is channel it into every interaction you have with a healthcare worker. If you feel guilty about how you haven't visited your mother in a while and now she's in the hospital, you gotta find ways to deal that don't involve getting extremely passive aggressive at your mother's night nurse.