#i’ve got other shit to do and i like it that way

[ledbet]

The amazing thing is as soon as you start feeding info to a child this way, it expands their own understanding (logically) of themselves and their behavior and they are able to verbalize better back at you. Meaning, in high emotion moments they can better talk through with you and you can better regulate yourself as a result and help guide them to better choices without losing your fucking shit.

my sons were wrestling last week, for example, and the younger one got bounced off of a beanbag and knocked his head on the floor. He was fine (more than, he wanted to go right back to fighting) but I called time out and rather sternly told my older son that if they choose to play that way against my wishes then he was responsible for preventing that sort of thing, whether it was fair or not. He didn’t like getting scolded on this and started to talk back with some choice words. I asked him what he thought he was doing, talking to me like that. And he paused, and thought about it, and said “when you get really firm with me like that, it makes me not want to be around you.” And, yeah, tough to hear, but dang what an amazing thing to be able to verbalize. This kid is 6, mind you. And it let me better understand what he was feeling, and we were able to talk about it. That he might feel that way, and that’s ok, but it’s still more important to keep them both safe than to let them have fun and like me all the time. That his feelings are ok and so are mine but we still can’t be mean or nasty to each other just because of them. That I have to be firm when they don’t listen and are doing things that might be dangerous. That they’re allowed to take breaks from me and each other. That if I’ve been firm and he doesn’t want to be around me…he doesn’t have to be. He can go to his room and cool down and come back when he’s ready to talk or to play a different way. That’s ok. I do the same thing, sometimes, too.

it really changes the whole family dynamic, and your kids’ dynamic with themselves. Communication. Who would’ve thunk it?

I am exceptionally lucky in that my parents never hit me, grounded me, confiscated my things, banned me from my hobbies or threatened any of these actions to make me behave as a kid. as an adult it has made me realise how very very long a road most people have to traverse before they can take a statement like 'no rule that must be enforced by threat is legitimate' seriously.

[revelboo]

God hi I know it SUPER isnt gonna happen like this obvs but I'm just imagining EIA Shockwave Staring at the Two Sparkbonds in the human and is like Quiet and somehow figures out the second is Megatron and he doesnt say SHIT and is just like "Uhhhh yeah. Human's fine. Soundwave, please stay back so we may talk" and Sounders just like "Mkay" and so Star and the human leave and stuff and Soundwave is like "Query: What is it that Shockwave wishes to tell me" and Shockwave is just like "Bestie idk how to say this but I think Lord Megatron is what the humans call a homewrecker." And Soundwave has to play. SO cool about everything.

🤣 Shockwave is just assuming the other bond is Soundwave’s and he just can’t understand the appeal- thinks they’re both deviants. I’ve started going back trying to add warnings to the first chapters of everything, so folks don’t get surprised if the run into my stories in the wilds of Tumblr

Psst psst @thegarageafterdark aka Storm is one of my writer buddies who convinced me to even consider Transformers smut back in the day and she’s started a Tumblr. She does fated mates Transformers stuff for Bayverse and G1

Everything Is Alright Pt 129

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader

• Wincing as Shockwave just stares at you, you’re not about to admit the other bond is Megatron’s. Can’t imagine the Decepticon leader would want that to get out. And Soundwave rescues you by reaching out to run a servo affectionately against your cheek. Making Shockwave stare at him instead, antenna back. You’re pretty sure the scientist just thinks you’re all three a bunch of freaks at this point. If he realized Megatron was also involved, he’d probably literally blow a gasket. “If a spark was to form from a full bond-” Starscream begins and Shockwave growls.

• “Illogical,” Shockwave snarls, turning away with his scanner, studying the readings. Wings lifting in affront, Starscream growls back at the scientist. Not liking the other mech’s dismissive tone. “No sparks are possible with an organic,” Shockwave adds, tone almost angry. Like the very fact that he wanted to spark you is deviant. That he wants you is obscene. Tempting him to lash out at the bigger mech to defend you. Except you might get hurt if he does, worry for you chaining his temper. But it’s something he can’t forget or forgive even if they will need his skills eventually.

• Servo trembling where he’s got it against your cheek, Soundwave wants to take you from Starscream. Press his face against you to feel the beat of your heart, your warmth. Unable to really believe that he can have this without risking everything else he has. And the Seeker scowls at him when he gives in and cups his hands around you, lifting you close. “Little one.” Just needs to hold you, to ground himself in you, because he can repair that broken bond now without any guilt. Can really have everything.

• Gently pinned against his battle mask, you’re aware of the way Shockwave stiffens. Apparently not liking the display of affection. Or you. Pretty sure that he has some sort of issue with you in particular that you can’t figure out. Maybe he’s just xenophobic? And nobody has answered your ‘how long do Cybertronians live’ question which is beginning to worry you. There’s a niggling little worry in the back of your mind about that. Because you’d been in Star and Megatron’s memories and there’d been a lot to parse through, but no real concrete sense of time. Startling when Soundwave retracts his mask and brushes his mouth against your body, apparently not caring about Shockwave watching. Had he been really worried about how long humans live?

• Wings flicking as Soundwave rubs his face against you, venting softly, Starscream wants to be angry still about you and the communications officer. To resent that you love him, too. To ask who you love more even if he’s terrified of what your answer would be. Reminding himself that you’d chosen him. Bonded fully to him. No one can take that from him. “We got our answers,” he mutters, because as entertaining as watching the scientist’s obvious discomfort watching Soundwave is, he wants some quiet time with you. Wants to talk without Soundwave or Megatron listening in. Pretend it’s just you two like it had been back then when he was happiest. Figure out this new dynamic with the other two. His new Trine.

• Following Starscream out into the hall, he’s aware that he’s getting looks. That most of the Decepticons aren’t used to seeing his exposed face. Or it could be you as he nuzzles against your body to make you squirm with breathless little protests. And he stops short when the Seeker stops, wings lifting before Starscream starts laughing. Leaning, he looks down at Rumble and Frenzy and the little human they have in tow, Rumble’s arm around them. “Oh. Hi, boss,” Rumble says as Frenzy tries to pull the human into his arms. Head lifting to stare at Thundercracker, the Seeker carrying plastic boxes full of stuff, his wings flaring like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t have. And you’re twisting to look too as the other human notices you and waves. “So, we need our own habsuite,” Rumble adds as Starscream keeps laughing.

Previous

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[maaikeatthefullmoon]

Who else is in the ‘they are speaking - mind-to-mind’ theory camp?

I’ve had to accept that I’m not going to have time to write the fanfic I have all planned out in my mind. Not if I want to Write Seriously™️ and be a functioning human.

I don’t even have the time to write a long-arse meta like I’d love to. I’d love to spend a whole day just delving into my thoughts but…not gonna happen. As it is I’ve got about 10 minutes until someone gets home and I’ll be expected to do useful things.

So.

I think Aziraphale taught Crowley a useful magic trick in 1941. Our Part 3. Which we see during The Kiss in the Final 15 - when Crowley passes something to Az. What does he pass? Dunno. But it’s got something to do with this new communication ability.

This isn’t Crowley realising his feelings. They have both known their feelings for long enough. This is him realising he needs to put plans into action. Spurred by Nina’s words, and other things. They’ve been too conspicuous. It’s too dangerous. He needs to protect his angel.

All of this - a lot of acting for those listening in, but probably also anger and devastation at Crowley for putting into action the emergency plan without Az’s consent? But rather than being angry, I think this “I forgive you” is genuinely meant. Az knows Crowley saw no other way out for them. I think there’s a degree of bodily autonomy this plan takes away, but Az wants him to know that’s ok. He forgives him.

And that means more than “I love you” to me.

So while Crowley drives, he’s (oooh, is it breaking the law? Is it like talking on the phone?? Demon!) talking to his angel. I believe, telling him he’ll be taking his place as the Grand Duke of Hell. Ready to fuck shit up.

As we have Aziraphale (and Michael Sheen, master of microexpressions) joining in the planning.

Ready to fuck shit up.

And so we have our players manoeuvred into place. Head of Staff of Heaven & Hell. Ostensibly.

Not speaking. Verbally.

But mentally…that’s a different story.

[rebelfell]

Sooo this started out being all cute and fluffy but veered over the edge into the flangst canyon…my bad. 💌 1.8k

Thinking about bestfriend!eddie who shows up your boyfriend on Valentine’s Day.

Unintentionally, of course.

It was never something he planned to do. 

He just happened to be in CVS the night before, blazed out of his mind and wandering aimlessly while the guys argued about what snacks to get. And when he made the mistake of turning onto the designated holiday aisle, he was met with a barrage of pink and red glitter and sparkles and hearts exploding off every shelf—an absolute affrontal assault to his cynical sensibilities. 

But then he picks up this one card that catches his eye. It’s got a watercolor painting of this cute little porcupine who’s holding a heart-shaped box of chocolates, and there’s a speech bubble at the top that says “I Porcu-PINE for you!”

Eddie absolutely loses it.

He stands there making these stuttering giggling sounds and they’re coming out way louder than he intended, and the pimply and dead-eyed clerk behind the register leans over to give the laziest evil eye Eddie has ever seen. He does his best to stifle himself, but more little snickers still eke out as he picks up the envelope that goes with the card, and starts scanning the shelves for the Valentine’s variation of your favorite candy.

(Because it would be weird just to do the card, right? If he throws in some other stuff too, maybe it’ll be less conspicuous. Yeah? That makes sense, doesn’t it? Yeah, totally it does.)

Before he knows it, he’s collected a whole armload of crap. Two bags of the candies (they’re 2 for $5, that just makes good business sense), a little plushie with giant sparkly eyes (its stare is hypnotizing in an odd way, it kind of reminds him of you), and a small (tiny, honestly) bouquet of daisies wrapped in crinkly cellophane (he knows you like those way more than you like roses.)

He puts it all down on the counter and gets another withering glare from the cashier after he’s rung it all up. Eddie wonders if this guy is judging him; thinks he’s some lazy, loser boyfriend buying a bunch of junk gifts at the last possible minute. But Eddie doesn’t have the mental capability at the moment to explain that he’s not even buying these for a girlfriend—they’re all for his best friend, who he sometimes, occasionally, has some slightly inappropriate thoughts about, which yeah, is kind of inconvenient in a lot of ways, but it’s cool, he’s fine with that—

There’s another huff from the cashier as he repeats the total due, and Eddie realizes this guy doesn’t give a shit that Eddie might be a crappy boyfriend, he’s much more annoyed by the fact that he has yet to take out his wallet. And as he scrambles to do so, the rest of Corroded Coffin comes up to the front, still loudly arguing about the snacks they’re carrying in their hands.

They all give Eddie a funny look when they see what he’s getting, Grant being the first to bluntly ask who it’s for. They fall silent, exchanging wary glances when Eddie mumbles your name under his breath as he hands over a creased and wrinkled bill to pay at long last.

“That’s super weird, man, don’t do that,” Jeff argues immediately. “Just give it to Gareth, and he can give it to Annie instead. Problem solved.”

“Excuse me,” Gareth snaps, “but I’ve gotten my girl her gifts and they’re a hell of a lot better than this crap. Er, uhh…no offense.”

Their drummer winces, and his eyes dart guiltily between Eddie and his purchases.

“No—” Eddie’s face scrunches and he shakes his head defiantly. “They’re not, like, serious gifts. It doesn’t mean anything. And she’s dating that rich asshole, I’m sure he’s gonna bury her in expensive shit. This is barely gonna land on her radar,” he insists, now clutching his bag in his fist.

“So then why bother?” Jeff asks, widening his annoyingly perceptive eyes under arched brows. 

But Eddie doesn’t respond. He just stomps out to the parking lot and waits by the car. All the while thinking about all the things he can never quite manage to say out loud when it comes to you.

The next day, Eddie’s rethinking everything.

Sober now and staring down at the offerings piled up in the van’s passenger seat, he can’t help but think this might be the stupidest thing he’s ever done in his life. And that’s saying something.

He talks himself in and out of going through with it about twenty times just in the ten minute drive it takes him to get to your apartment. And even as he climbs the stairs and raises his hand to knock, he has yet to decide if this is a good idea or not.

He came over semi-early, figuring you’d likely be busy later getting ready for some fancy dinner at some restaurant where Eddie probably couldn’t afford to order so much as a glass of water. 

But when you open the door, he can’t help but frown at your appearance. You don’t look like you are getting ready to go out, if anything you look like you’ve retired for the evening before 5pm.

Your face is bare except for a couple spots of zit cream, and you have on an old headband pushing your hair back out of your face. You’re swathed in the kind of baggy, oversized clothes he only sees you in when you’re ass deep in a cold or some other similarly debilitating illness. 

You don’t look sick, though. Just…sad?

How can you be sad on Love’s birthday?

“Hey, uhhh,” he says, forcing a tight smile. His palms start to sweat around the plastic handles he’s clutching behind his back. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” you reply.

There’s no sharpness to it, yet it still comes out kind of flat. Like you’re trying not to sound upset. But Eddie doesn’t push it as he follows you to the kitchen, sliding into his usual seat at your bar.

“What’s that?” you ask, eyes falling to the bag he plopped down on top of the counter.

“It’s stupid,” Eddie starts, “just some dumb little things I picked up.” For you, he adds in his head.

A small smile finally breaks the thin line your lips had been set in since he arrived and Eddie’s back broke out in a cold sweat under his leather jacket as he bashfully pushed the bag over to you.

He then watches, choking on his own heart, as you start pulling things out one by one.

You grin at the daisies, bringing them to your nose to sniff even though they probably smell more like weed than flowers after spending all night in the trailer. You squeal over the plushie, holding it up next to your face and squishing it. You hum excitedly at the first bag of candies, and laugh when you pull out a second one.

Then you get to the card.

Your eyes roll, but you can’t help smiling when you see Eddie’s nickname for you scrawled on the front of the envelope in his chicken scratch. And you’re still smiling as you slide your finger under the flap to tear through the bright red casing.

Then you read it, and your smile falls.

Your whole face does, in fact. It starts with a minute tremble of your chin that escalates into your brow pinching and your mouth crumpling into a frown. And you seem to clench every single muscle in your face to stop yourself from crying, but you just can’t keep it from happening.

“Hey, hey, wait, no, no, nooooo—”

Eddie doesn’t think, he doesn’t take a second to consider doing anything differently, he just jumps to his feet and comes around the counter to your side. He puts his arms around you automatically, letting you bury your face in his chest as you cling to him and try to settle yourself.

“I’m so-sorry, I’m s-so sorry, I’m sorry,” you babble, blubbering through the words.

“No, I’m sorry, sweetheart. I swear, I just thought it was cute, I didn’t mean to—”

“It is cute,” you wail as tears stream down your cheeks, “It’s fucking adorable!”

“Okay, then what’s the problem?” Eddie chuckles, pulling back slightly and ducking his head to look you in the eye, trying to get you to smile back.

You sniffle a few more times before you manage to collect yourself and swipe your fingers under your eyes to smear the wetness of your tears across your cheeks. Eddie’s fists clench at his sides to stop them from reaching up to do it again for you when you miss a stray one.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’ve been in such a weird funk all day since Matt, um…”

Your voice wobbled again and Eddie’s expression turned stony, scolding himself inwardly for letting even a tiny bit of excitement rise in his chest at the thought that you might have broken up.

“Is everything okay?” he asked. “I mean, did you guys…are you…”

“No, nothing like that,” you inhaled shakily. “He just…he doesn’t really do Valentine’s Day. And it feels so stupid to get upset over it. Like it’s just a dumb holiday, and I don’t need, like, presents or a dinner or flowers or anything like that. I just…”

Your arms crossed, as if you were trying to hug yourself. Eddie wished he could do it for you.

“I don’t know, I thought we’d do something,” you finally add quietly.

“He’s not even coming over?” Eddie scoffs. Suddenly the outfit made more sense. “At all?”

Your eyes closed in a pained wince. “Don’t make me feel worse, please,” you beg him somberly.

“No, I—” Eddie sucks in a sharp breath. “I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean to upset you. Honest.”

His head dropped guiltily, eyes glued to his sneakers that stood out against the tile in your kitchen. He glanced one last time at all the stupid stuff he bought now strewn across your counter.

“You don’t have to apologize,” you told him firmly. “That was really sweet, Eddie. Seriously, like the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

Your hand reaches out for the plushie again and you cradle it in your palm as you swoop in to drop a light peck on his cheek. The warmth of it makes Eddie’s whole face hot and he feels his neck tense from how much he wishes he could turn his head to the side and allow for his lips to meet yours. 

But of course he doesn’t. He wouldn’t dare.

He sure would think about it, though.

Eddie was still staring at his feet, but he couldn’t keep his eyes off you for long. He glanced back up to see you pushing through all of the extraneous things you were feeling to give him a smile, small as it was. He nodded and opened his arms, welcoming you back into them.

“Anytime, sweetheart,” he whispered into your hair. Too quiet even for you to hear him.

I thought for a while about whether or not this is them, but I think this might be an entirely different set of idiots.

also is it just me or is v-day particularly oppressive this year?

[mrslaflour]

ᙏ̤̫ GRAPE PARTY — ROUND TWO! kai says it’s the last round, but we know that’s a lie.

pairing — huening kai x reader

warnings — noncon, dark overall, continuation of the first grape party, overall fucked up you know that, height different, tbh maybe it’s because i’m judging my own shit but this to me looks bad because i never planned on making a part 2 but everybody wanted one and my blogs been being weird idfk i hope it fits your standards though

summary — you wake up in that bedroom. a bedroom that carried a lot of fucked up memories not just from you, but probably at least ten other girls. you wished you hadn’t woke up. they all seem to be gone except one. he was the nicest, so whatever. you ask to go home now, they got what they wanted after all. but poor you, he wasn’t finished just yet :(

it felt surreal to be laying here. surreal to even be breathing. hours of literal hell and you still lay in this sweaty, cum stained bed. how many times have they cleaned these sheets? the worst part is that you were still in this room, his room, and not home. not laid out in the middle of the school naked for a janitor to find you and not laid out in the middle of the street ready for some stranger to use you the same way they did. how did they get the others before you home? just push them out the house? you’d run home naked if it meant you’d get out of this place. but you still feel hands on you. a thumb rubbing circles into your hip, a hand on your stomach, and a head just barley in the crook of your neck.

“i had a lot of fun last night.”

kai. kai was still here laying right beside you. his voice vibrates your neck. if you were going to get stuck with any of them, you were glad it was him. but you didn’t particularly want to be stuck with him either. he treated all of this too normal and it was scary.

“i told the others i’d be the one to get you home so we could get more time together.”

you feel his smile against your neck.

“i, ah, we, wanted to keep you here longer. but the cheer team saw us go up after you when you went to the bathroom and…it’s just a whole thing.”

he pauses.

“if we got caught we’d probably never get a chance to feel you again. but if we send you on your way we’ll see each other in school, the streets, you know.”

“why are you still talking to me..?”

the circling in your hip pauses. as if he’s thinking of what to say.

“why wouldn’t i want to speak to you?”

“because i don’t want to speak,”

“i could help with that.”

after all the dirty talk and things they’ve done tonight, you knew damn well what he meant and immediately shook your head no. you don’t have the strength to cry anymore but oh do you want to. all you wanna do is go home and fall face first in your bed and sob your eyes out. you hear your phone ringing and lift your head to see it on the night stand next to you. it’s your friends caller ID. you frown and reach an arm out to grab the phone but he pulls your hand to his chest.

“do you feel my heartbeat? you’re the best i’ve ever had.”

you just stare at the phone as the ringing goes off for the last few times before it’s hangs up automatically. you immediately get spammed with a million text notifications (which you can only assume are from her). you hear kai sigh before he drops your hand and gets up, you finally felt like you could breathe a little.

“you know she’s been calling you non-stop this whole morning? i don’t know how you’re just now noticing.”

he grabs the phone before opening the bathroom door and throwing it in there.

“we probably have limited time together before she drives over here or whatever and i don’t have yeonjuns charm to cover me…”

he frowns at that. you didn’t know what his other teammates were doing. you didn’t have school today so they probably went out to fuck some other girl on the street.

you’re sitting up now. you lean over the side of the bed and see your clothing littered everywhere. a cut up shirt and pants tossed across the room. panties poking out from under the bed and your bra laying right in front of your face. you pick it up while he’s not looking and quickly clasp it on so you can at least get a little bit of coverage. when he turns back around he just looks down at your boobs and gives you a light smile before sitting on the bed criss cross right in front of you.

“i loved how they felt you know? pushed up against my chest as i took my time with you. they were so soft.”

you look around before looking him in the eyes trying to signal to him that you were uncomfortable, but he just looked like a lovesick puppy.

“i want this not to just be a one time thing, yknow. i wanna wake up to you in my arms everyday. i want you to be mine..”

he sort of mumbled the last part but you heard him loud and clear, and hell no. not in a million years. maybe before all of this. he was tall, hot, but also cute! easy and fun to talk to, a football player, rich even! the absolute package. but uhm, nowhere in that package did it mention that he was a rapist…? and no you’re not gonna just — no!

“i don’t want anything to do with you.”

his face drops a little. as if you actually had hurt him. he looks down at his lap before you can see his face lift up a little and it looks like he has a thought.

“were they mean to you?”

what? he was there, he would know. and although kai was probably as nice as a rapist could be, he was just as disgusting. you just stare at him like he’s crazy.

“you liked me the most, right? i made you feel good. i know you didn’t want me to stop. you didn’t want soobin to take his turn, just wanted me to stay inside of you.”

it’s quiet and uncomfortably silent before he places his hand on your shoulder, causing you to flinch. he then forcefully, but gently pushes you onto the bed.

“please don’t — you all said i was going home today…”

he just strokes your cheek with one hand before he starts kissing you all over your face and moving down to your neck. sucking slowly, taking his time, thus leaving deep purple hickeys. you had just realized he never took the bra off again. you just feel his finger trace the outline of the bra before he lifts his face from your neck.

“i think the bra makes them look cuter,”

he pauses with a smile.

“your turn.”

he leans forward and puts his neck near your mouth. you know what he wants you to do but you don’t want to give into his sick fantasy. you shake your head no.

“please? if you do i promise i won’t make your mouth do other things despite how much i want you to…”

you quickly suck the air through your teeth and take a deep breath before you start going as slow as possible sucking on his neck. you didn’t know weather to go super fast or super slow. super fast would make you seem as if you were happy to be getting him off, so happy that you were just rushing through, but going slow would make it seem like you wanted to be sensual and loving to him, but ultimately you went with going slow. your eyes closed trying to imagine time was going by faster and faster and you were driving closer and closer to your house. kais hand is stroking through your hair and his finger is running through your collarbone.

“the others are gonna wonder how i got you to do this. how i got you to mark me up all over my neck. it’s because you just love me so much, right?”

you shook your head no. you didn’t want to satisfy his sick fantasy. he just did a light click with his tongue and moved lower down your body, running his hands on your stomach before rubbing his thumbs in circles on your hips. your hips were all purple from the hard grips they had made on you the night before. you flinched slightly, they hurt badly. kai looked up and gave a pouty lip to you. you couldn’t tell if it was sincere or mocking. it may not have been mocking, but it certainly was not sincere. he leaned in and kissed the bruises that marked your hips before his lips got lower, and lower, and lower, and lower, and—

you quickly push his head away, clearly catching him off guard as he went back far pretty significantly. you push yourself back up and crawl to the other side of the bed before attempting to run to the door. obviously that was going to do nothing, but it didn’t hurt to try. he quickly stops you before you even get close to the door and he pulls your back into his stomach. the sweat on both his stomach and your back making you both become one. he wraps his arms around yours, glueing your arms to your side. he places his head into the crook of your neck, having to lean down quite a bit due to the scary height difference.

“why would you try to run knowing that i’d get you?”

you feel his lips pout against your neck. but you quickly realize, ‘i have a mouth’. you should have been screamed by now. there’s no loud music to distract the neigbors, they would hear you loud and clear by now. so you scream. loud. you get about two seconds of screaming out before he slams his palm over your mouth.

“why must you be so difficult?”

he shakes his head.

“i just want to show you how well i can treat you, is that so much to ask? it’s not even bad for you, it’s not like i’m hurting you, i’m just making you feel good..”

he sounds genuinely disappointed and upset. he easily lifts you up and puts you back onto the bed before holding your right hand and letting the other hand just lay there trying to push him away unsuccessfully.

“i can make you feel great baby, you know that. but maybe soobin made you forget. that’s okay, i’ll show you again hun.”

he brings your left hand to a halt by holding it with the hand that was once on your mouth, leaving you perfectly capable of screaming again, which you took full advantage of. he was going to stop you but he quickly realized that it was fine. you’d tire yourself out and most people were at work anyways. yeah, he’d still get his time with you. he moves his head down low once again and starts marking up the inside of your thighs and kissing all over you pussy and moving himself lower down to start fucking you with his tongue. you quickly try to lift yourself up to push him away, but you realize it’s quite hard to lift your chest up while your arms are pinned straight down to your sides. he squeezes your hands tighter and rubs circles into the palms of your hands while he continues to kiss and suck on your clit. you start to cry and beg him to stop and he just lifts his head back up to kiss your forehead before he moves back down to your pussy.

“shhh, just relax and let me take care of you. let’s focus all on you right now, let me make you feel good.”

what was so terrible about kai compared to the others was that he was loving. he had both yours and his pleasure in mind. he cared about weather you were in pain or not. with the others, it was easier to ignore it all and not give them any satisfaction and to piss them off by being dry but with kai? it was impossible. deep down you wished this wasn’t the situation that you two were in because had it been different circumstances, maybe you’d enjoy this and maybe you’d actually be with kai. you’re knocked out of your thoughts however by the continuous feeling of his tongue flicking your clit, determined to make you cum. you didn’t want to. you couldn’t. but you’d already been so abused and so much more sensitive from the events that took place only a couple of hours ago that you just couldn’t help it when you came. and when he kept going despite that, you start to squirm more in his grip, completely afraid.

“you can give me one more, right? just one more pretty girl, ‘promise.”

he was a liar. one more became two more and three more became four more. you hadn’t even noticed that he stopped as you’d just decided to block everything out. it wasn’t until he lets go of your wrists and towers himself over you, pulling down his pants that you snap your head back up to face him. you try to plead using your eyes, whispering small pleases and sorrys, but he just strokes your cheek and frowns at you.

“i’m sorry.”

you still. he’s sorry? you didn’t expect that. but was he really? he just dropped his pants down to his knees and was messing with his dick still, about to line it up with your entrance. he wasn’t fucking sorry.

“no you’re not. if you were sorry you’d stop now.”

your voice comes out all cracked out and hoarse from the screaming you had just done and the screaming you’d done that night before. you expected your voice would go completely missing soon. he just stares down at your entrance, as if contemplating continuing but he finally speaks.

“that’s not true. i just know how good i can make you feel. how good that we are for each other. and now that we’re alone, i can really show you.”

he presses himself inside of you and you just lay there. you couldn’t fight back anymore, you didn’t wanna try to. he couldn’t keep you here forever, he’d have to let you leave soon, so you weren’t worried about that. but as his thrusts continue for longer and longer and you start feeling yourself clenching around him tighter and tighter and you can see his smile growing, you have to look the other way and throw a hand over your mouth as you cry. you’d cried a lot the night before and a little this morning, but you were sobbing now. you couldn’t help it. he doesn’t stop though besides slowing down his movements a little, but he just moves your hand away from your mouth as he presses a kiss into you and holds you there while he finishes. he had finished first, but he was willing to overstimulate himself so that you could cum too, and when you knew that’s what he was waiting for, you just stopped fighting how your body felt and let your orgasm wash over you as your legs shake. he pulls out of you before pulling his boxers up. his pants were still down to his knees but he just laid next to you and pulled you against his chest.

“just ten more minutes of us just laying here, okay? and then we can go back to your house.”

you almost let that fly over your head. we. we. we? wait, we? no no no. he wasn’t going home with you! no, you couldn’t be trapped in this hell, you couldn’t be trapped next to him. you have to bite your lip back and scrunch your eyes shut and just nod. you didn’t wanna know what would happen if you disagreed, and you didn’t want to know what would happen once you went back to school, and you really didn’t wanna know what would happen when you’d go back home with him.

@blessedbymoon @straykidsviolet @lxsunshine @midnightathenaeum @beebrightness @hanhani29 @cassieaestheticsstuff @jastheepic @lickingan0rchid @alm0ndr4 @lailols @barbara-228

[creolefatu]

Crash Out

***After thinking you were out with another man, Joshua confronts you only to realize he’s trippin***

This is my first time writing like this please be kind lol hope you enjoy

SO YOU REALLY OUT HERE TRYNNA MAKE A NIGGA LOOK DUMB! the voice on the other end of the phone was Joshua, of course. Over reacting as usual. What did I do now?! I thought as he continued to rant.

Josh idk what you’re talkin about, I’ve been home all day! You always callin with some bs. I responded. When he gets like this it does annoy a small part of me, but damn hearing him all fired up like that made my pussy jump and drip.

So now John just lyin on you? So you callin my brotha a liar now! He ain’t got no reason to lie on you Y/N!

Wtf yo messy ass brotha said now? I swear he always got some dumb shit to say and hear you go blowin my phone up with the bullshit Josh!

Dating a twin is not for the weak! If I’m not caught up in their pranks then it’s their drama or pettiness!

So you ass wasn’t in the mall all hugged up with some nigga in Nike? Cause that what my bro said he saw!

Josh listen to yourself! Do you fuckin hear how you sound? Why in the fuck would I be out in public with another man if ima play you? Especially knowing you have eyes everywhere?! And stop all that damn yellin before I hang up!

You gone hang up on me?! Bet!

I could feel the vibrations through the phone of the low growl in his voice when he said it

Bet!

**boop boop boop** was the next sound Josh heard cause I surely did hang up

Walking around my house in a XXL YEET shirt I heard the familiar sound of a truck engine in my driveway.

Y/N OPEN THIS DAMN DOOR RIGHT NOW GIRL!

He was so damn sexy when he was mad 💦

Josh stop banging on my door like that! You’re gonna break it!

Then open it tf up!

He hit the door again this time I heard the frame crack a little

Ok ok ok just stop beating on my shit!

Josh came in looking around before his eyes settled on me

Bae calm tf down! Look at you, you all swole in the chest!

I’m telling you right now y/k if you lyin to me I swear…

Bae look around… I been here in yo shirt all day taking a lazy day.

You’re right I see the ice cream on the counter, the blankets and the movie goin, it’s just John called said he thought he saw you and I lost it! Idk what I’d do if I ever lost you. Just the thought drives me crazy

I grab his face in both hands, he grabbed my wrist and kisses the palm of my right hand.

You know it does something to me when you get like that bae

I’ll crash out any time, any place over you, and over this

He reached bw my legs and lightly grazed my clit

Damn! You ain’t got on no draws for big daddy Jey?! Let me see!

He lifted my shirt off and began to kiss my neck as he slid his hand below my waist and found my soft pussy lips soaked.

You wet for me too, you like when I get like that over you. You my nasty freak

I’m in heaven, his warm kisses on my neck , his thick fingers working their way into my tight wet pussy, finding my g spot and applying pressure. I wrapped both arms around his neck as my legs begin to give way to the pleasure. He walked me back against the wall and never missed a beat. Fingers stroking me, moving in and out to the rhythm of my heart beat. I could barely breathe

This my pussy? Tell me it’s my pussy.

Yes! It’s your pussy baby! It’s daddy Jey’s pussy

Josh pulled his fingers out and sucked my juices off, then pushed them into my mouth to give me a taste.

I want you to taste why I’m ready to crash out behind you bae

His big hands gripped my thighs and lifted me up, I wrapped my legs around his muscular waist. He pulled his pants down and I could feel his 8in dick pop up and slap my ass.

You feel that? You got me feeling like this

Put it in, please I need to feel you in me

He grabbed the shaft and begin slapping my pussy with the head of his dick. It made me absolutely feral! I begin to grind my pussy against him as he continued to tease me. My pussy dripping with anticipation. Then I felt him press his body against mine as he pushed his thick head into me. I gasped… it was what I was begging for. My pussy gripped every inch as he slowly entered me. Once fully in he griped my thighs to hold me up against the wall. The strokes started off slow, moving his hips in a circular motion. Sending me into another dimension.

This what I been needing. When I’m in you, I know you all mine he whispered into my ear.

I could feel every stroke grow stronger, I clawed shoulders as I was looking to readjust my grip on him. The sound of skin smackin and macaroni filled the air, I gasped as he sped up his pace. I could feel him throbbing in me as he grew harder. The growl he made as he pushed deep into me made me even wetter.

You like how I handle that pussy baby?

Mmhm was all I could say. I couldn’t even talk he had me so gone from the dick.

You gone cum for big daddy Jey? He didn’t have ro say no more. I was already there. But he already knew that. This man knew my body like that back of his hand.

Mmmmhm ahhh fuck! You strokin me so good bae

My body begin to shake and my pussy squeezed his dick and I begin the have the best orgasm anyone has ever given me.

Damn baby you bout to make me cum with you

He pressed me harder against the wall and he bottomed out inside of me. He let out a primal growl that made me want a round 2 immediately. Still holding me up he kissed me wildly and passionately. He lowers me to the floor and we both collapsed into each other arms and onto the couch. As I lay on his chest listening to his heart beat he held me tightly and whispered.

Yeah I’ll crash out a million times a day behind that lil pussy.

And I’ll do the same behind that dick

THE END

[agreeeeeeeeeee]

i would love to see 1000 secrets with barty crouch or regulus 😏

combining this with another reg request!! I have one coming for Barty soon too dw 🫶

1000 secret kisses | R.B.

cw: MDNI 18+, smut mentioned, secret relationships, fwb, drinking

1000 things prompt list (closed!) | masterlist

Alright, Barty. Truth, dare, or shot,” Dorcas said, still coughing after the gulp of firewhisky she just took.

“Truth,” Barty replied.

“What's your most controversial opinion about someone in the group?” Dorcas challenged, and everyone ooooh’d.

Barty took a contemplative drag of his joint, then—“I would bet my left nut that Regulus is a virgin,” Barty said through a cloud of smoke.

“No way, look at him!” Pandora argued. “He fucks, guarantee it.”

The groups heads swiveled to Regulus, who was reclined lazily in arm chair, knees spread, a cigarette dangling from his fingertips. He looked supremely fuckable to you, like he always did.

That's why you've been secret friends with benefits for most of the school year.

You and Regulus were an unlikely pair; Reg, a certified grouch with a distaste for socializing, and you, a gifted student and natural flirt. But you found him fascinating, deeply intelligent and perceptive, with an artistic heart, even if he preferred not to show it. And he found you endearing, infectious in your enthusiasm.

You'd kissed him after a drunken night in Hogsmeade, and he'd sought you out the following day in the library. Now, you snuck away every chance you got, stealing secret moments around every corner, in every classroom, praying your friends never discovered the truth, lest you never hear the end of it.

This was just for the two of you, and you preferred it that way.

“I'm not saying he isn't sexy!” Barty argued. “I'm saying he couldn't be bothered to fuck someone, too busy reading poetry and glaring.”

“And you expect me to, what? Fuck everything with legs like you, Junior?” Regulus bit back.

“No, but like—I’ve never even seen you glance at someone,” Evan chimed in. “You've never talked about fancying someone, or gotten flustered.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment.

“Nothing shakes him, and he'd never tell you half-wits if he fancied someone because you can't keep your mouths shut,” Xeno laughed.

“It's not like it's anyone's business anyways,” you added, stealing the joint from Barty and taking a puff. “It's his business who he does, or doesn't, fuck.”

“Oh, come off it. He hasn't even had a crush on you, and we've all had a crush on you,” Barty said.

You nearly choked on your hit. “You're full of shit, Junior.”

“It's true! We talked about it the other day!”

You risked a glance at Regulus while you fanned the smoke from around your face, and found him glaring down at his lap, his expression was calm, but you'd long ago learned to judge his true feelings by his pale eyes. And right now, the hostility in them could raze the castle.

That must have been the day he abruptly dragged you from your dorm and into an empty classroom. He toyed with you until you cried, begging him to get you off. And when he finally let you ride him, you weren't allowed to come until you told him exactly who you belonged to. Making you spell out his entire name, letter by letter, thrust by thrust.

Regulus Arcturus Black.

Your pussy shivered just thinking about it.

“Can we get on with the game, please?” Pandora huffed. “It's y/n’s turn.”

Barry grinned over at you, and you groaned. Why on Salazar's shitty earth did you think it was a good idea to sit next to him?

“Truth, dare, or shot, my darling?” Barty asked, his voice a seductive purr.

You really didn't want to take a shot of that lukewarm swill, and you had a hunch of what Barty's question would be: do you fancy any of us? Leaving you with one option.

“Dare.”

Barty’s eyes lit up, and he rubbed his hands together like a supervillain. “You've made a grave error, my dearest y/n.”

“Don't be an ass, Crouch. Play fair,” Regulus warned, the edge of his voice sharper than was probably necessary.

“Oh, you'll like this Reggie, don't worry.” Barty presented his palms to you, like he was offering a gift. “Treasure, I dare you to make Regulus blush.”

“That's not fair!” Pandora argued. “How is she supposed to do that?”

“By any means necessary.” Barty grinned.

You looked at Regulus, who was already looking at you. “I don't want to cross any lines—”

“And when she fails?” Regulus asked, a hint of a smirk on his pretty mouth. Baiting you.

“Then she takes two shots,” Barty wagered.

You looked back and forth between them, all eyes on you. “Deal,” you said, pushing to your feet.

Regulus' eyes widened a fraction, like he didn't expect you to actually go for it, but he vastly underestimated your pettiness. And you would love nothing more than to be the thing that made Regulus finally crack in front of his friends. A tiny consultation for months of keeping secrets.

You sashayed over to him, ignoring the whistles and shouts from your friends, focused entirely on Regulus' smug face. His eyes roamed over you, lingering at the edge of your skirt, the sway of your hips, and you caught the unmistakable sign of his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, and his arrogant expression faltered.

Already, you were making him sweat.

You knew none of your regular tricks would work on him, he was impervious to flirting, but you had an ace up your sleeve.

Carefully, you perched on the arm of his chair, being mindful to not actually touch him, knowing it would bother him to have you so close without being able to touch. He shifted a little in his seat, a fraction closer to you, fingers tightening on his cigarette.

You took a pull from the joint, filling your lungs with its acrid burn. You looked at Regulus expectantly, and he smirked before tilting his head back for you. You leaned in and he parted his lips, letting you blow the smoke into his mouth.

Your friends continued to whoop and cheer, but you focused on Regulus' proximity, the hazy feeling coarsing through your blood.

Merlin, you wanted to kiss him.

Instead, when the last of the smoke left your lungs and entered his, you shifted to whisper in his ear. “Took that hit so well, sweet boy,” you purred, letting your lips brush the shell of his ear.

You felt his body hitch, wanting to cough up the smoke, but he managed to blow it out of the corner of his mouth, casting you vicious side eye. To your delight, you noticed a delicate pink stain was crawling up his neck, warming the tops of his cheekbones.

“She did it!” Evan cheered, and the rest of the group roared in approval.

“Brat,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes. You knew you'd be paying for it later, but it was so worth it to know you had an affect on him no one else did.

You sauntered back over to your seat, smiling ear to ear and basking in the groups praise.

Regulus tried to play it off, but there was no going back now. And you knew he was in trouble when it was finally his turn.

“Alright, Reggie,” Pandora said. “Truth, dare, or shot.”

You already knew what he would pick: Reg hated booze, and would rather run around the common room naked than fess up to something.

“Dare,” he said, taking a bold glance at you.

Pandora caught it, of course, and a tendril of uncertainty coiled in your stomach.

“I dare you to make y/n blush back.”

Regulus huffed a low laugh. “Come on, Dora. Give me a challenge.”

You glared at him, and he winked back. Maybe it was the weed, or his competitive nature, but you'd never seen him so brazen.

Everyone ooooh’d.

“Fine, I dare you to kiss one person in the circle!”

Your heart sunk. Even if it was platonic, a stupid dare, you didn't particularly want to see Regulus kiss someone else. Your feelings for Regulus has grown over the course of the your secret relationship, and while neither of you were ready for labels, that didn't mean you wanted to share him, or vice versa if the night in the classroom was any indication.

Regulus narrowed his eyes at her. “Not everyone consents to being kissed by me.”

“I consent!” They all chorused, and you inwardly groaned.

“What? You've never fucked and you've never kissed someone?” Barty teased, ramping up the pressure.

“Fuck off, Crouch,” Regulus hissed. The game was getting to him, and your friends were feasting on his rare display of discomfort.

You'd feel bad for him if you weren't feeling so sorry for yourself. Reg would probably kiss Barty just to shut him up, and then storm off to bed. Leaving you to decipher his words and actions like every night spent without him there to prove his affection with his hands and mouth.

Shit, maybe this arrangement had gotten more out of control than you realized.

“How the fuck is Sirius such a lady-killer, and his little brother is the virgin fuckin’ Mary?” Barty was too busy laughing at his own jokes to notice Regulus get up and prowl across the circle towards him.

Barty finally noticed when Reg was almost on top of him, but at the last second, Regulus pivoted. His hand shot out to grab you by the hair, roughly tilting your head back for the bruising kiss he planted on your unsuspecting lips.

You squeaked in surprise, but quickly gave way for him, melting under his firm, insistent mouth as his tongue delved between your teeth to taste you.

As quickly as he swept in, he was gone, leaving you wide eyed and breathless as he stalked back to his seat and dropped into it, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“What was it you said? ‘Y/n has the most gorgeous mouth you'd ever seen’?” Regulus said, a mocking edge in his voice. “That you'd ‘give anything to taste her'?”

Barty gaped like a fish.

Regulus smirked. “I’ll have that left bollock now. And I'll take the other one if I hear my girl’s name on your mouth again, you prick.”

Everyone gasped, including you, but Regulus didn't even flinch.

“Understood?” He glared at Barty, then the others, until each one of them lowered their eyes in submission.

Regulus beckoned you forward with two fingers and you jumped up, crossing the space between you and allowing him to pull you into his lap. He threaded his fingers through your hair, pulling you in for another kiss, little more than a peck, but it still made your head spin.

“So, secrets out?” You asked, meeting his eyes.

Regulus shrugged, pecking your cheek. “It doesn't change anything,” he murmured, kissing the corner of your mouth. “I’m yours.” He kissed your nose, your temple, your lips, down your neck, until all of your friends dispersed, making disgusted noises as they fled such a public display of affection.

But you couldn't be happier, grinning like a fool as you basked in a thousand not-so-secret kisses.

[disaster-writer]

Uncovered Part 3

Alpha!Bakugo x Omega!Reader

A/N: surprise! Have another part today

Summary: Alpha!Bakugo finds out that you’ve secretly been an Omega all this time

Part 1 Part 2

Bakugo stood with his fist poised, ready to knock on the front door to your apartment— that was until he dropped his hand to the side for the umpteenth time that night.

”Fuck— this is so fucking stupid,” he growled, yearning to just punch a goddamn hole in the wall and just leave already.

It was late anyway, you were probably asleep by now. He could just come back tomorrow morning.

He took a step back and turned… that’s what he’ll do, he’ll come back tomorrow morning before you’re meant to report to the agency for work—

He stopped. 

“FUCK—“ Bakugo slammed his fist hard against your front door three times. 

After a few beats he was greeted with the door being swung open and you standing exasperated on the other side.

Almost immediately you rolled your eyes, shaking your head, “No. Go home—“ you went to shut the door but Bakugo shoved his foot in the door before you could.

”We need to talk,” He muttered gruffly, peering down at you with hard eyes.

Your nostrils flared as you stared back up at him with an indignant look, “I have nothing to say to you—“

”Have you been crying?” The words flew past his lips as he took in your appearance. You were dressed in pajamas, no doubt already in bed for the night when he came, and your eyes were swollen and watery as if you had just finished sobbing your eyes out.

You huffed, “Go. Home.”

The two of you stared each other down for another moment before Bakugo forced himself forward and shoved himself inside, throwing you off balance and stumbling backwards, unable to stop him.

Bakugo glanced around your apartment. It was nice— expensive. It was expected of a hero of your notoriety, but even more so due to the fact you were a legacy hero. He wouldn’t lie, despite being relatively close friends ever since Raccoon Eyes all but adopted you into the group during first year, he always did chalk you up to just being another rich kid from another long line of heroes that got everything handed to them on a silver platter. 

He realized with faint recognition that this was the first time he had set foot in your place. You never invited anyone over, always assuming you just liked your privacy but now… he was sure it was more than that.

Bakugo heard the click of the door shutting behind him, followed by a defeated sigh.

“Why are you here Bakugo?” You asked, clearly exhausted, walking past him and deeper into the apartment as you made your way to the kitchen.

”Hah?” He sneered incredulously, following in tow, “You’re really going to ask me that after what happened this afternoon?” 

“I’ve been watching the news all day— you haven’t told anyone yet,” you muttered, reaching the top of your fridge for a bottle of sake.

”Of course I didn’t tell dumbass.”

You threw him a resentful glance over your shoulder, “Well why not?” You spat before unscrewing the top of the bottle and taking a swig before finally seating yourself down at the kitchen island.

Bakugo rounded the island, slamming his hands down on the counter across from you, “How low do you think I am—?”

Your head snapped up, locking your gaze with his once more, ”Pretty fucking low considering I found you going through my shit!— I mean, who even does that!? What were you even trying to find—“

”You’re changing the subject!” Bakugo rushed, ears tinging pink knowing the truth of why he even looked in the first place was embarrassing enough. 

There was a pregnant pause before you finally rolled your eyes and took another swig— it didn’t even matter at this point did it? Your life may as well be over anyway… 

“What do you want?” You finally sighed, resigned to whatever the rest of this interaction was going to be.

”I want to understand,” he replied, more even and controlled than his previous outbursts, “How have you hid this for so long? —And who else knows about you.”

You exhaled sharply through your nose, fingering the rim of your sake bottle in thought. “Why should I even tell you?” 

”I’m not going to say anything.”

“That is until you change your mind.”

”I won’t.” He hissed, “I’m not going to get your license revoked— now will you just answer me.”

You continued to remain silent, making him huff in frustration.

”The cold.”

Your eyes slid to his, confusion painting your face, “What?”

”The cold,” he reiterated, clearly annoyed, “It’s my main weakness.”

You narrowed your eyes, “I already know that—“

”I’m just saying— if I tell… then you tell. I have a lot of enemies that would pay for that kinda information.”

You were quiet once more, eyeing him and weighing his words. His own gaze was unrelenting, pinning you in your seat. Bakugo was many things but you never really knew him to go back on his word…

”You’re the only one other than my family, doctor, and trainer that knows,” you sighed, taking a swig, “That’s how we’ve kept it secret, parents that hired a doctor and trainer to mix up the perfect cocktail of drugs and regimens to pass me off as an Alpha. That and a whole lot of hush money.” You muttered sarcastically.

”Why?”

”Why?” You scoffed, “Because I’m a (Y/L/N). We don’t have Omegas, everyone in my family has been born an Alpha and then has trained to become a hero for generations.”

”But you guys do have an Omega.”

You shot him a glare, “Yeah, I’m well aware asshole.”

”So what? Making you a hero was going to somehow save your family name?”

“Yes. That’s exactly what it is. And I was doing a fine job of it too until you decided to stick your nose in places it doesn’t belong.”

Bakugo finally took a seat, “You all actually think you can keep this a secret?” He asked incredulously.

You quirked a brow, “I am.”

He pursed his lips… technically that was true, but more so because it would have been unthinkable that an Omega would have managed to get as far as you have in this field. 

Honestly it was a goddamn miracle you even managed to get into class 1-A to begin with. 

If it wasn’t for that he probably would have believed you were at least a Beta if not an Omega, especially as your scent gave no indication…

Bakugo perked up, “Why don’t you smell like an Omega?”

“Drugs,” you shrugged, “My brothers also scent me to mask whatever’s left.”

”And what about—“ heats, Bakugo caught himself before he could say it, the realization hitting him over the head like a ton of bricks. You experience heats. A blush spread across his cheeks, mind suddenly clouded by images of you locked away in your bedroom  and—

“What about what?” You asked him impatiently, “Are we done here yet? You already get the gist and if I still have a job in the morning then I need to go to bed now.”  You stood up, rounding the kitchen island back towards the front door with Bakugo following behind hesitantly. He still had so many questions but was suddenly and actually aware that you were an Omega… he had never been very tactful around Omegas before.

You stood by the now open door, waiting for him to leave.

And so he did, but not before you stopped him with one final thing left to say. You had stopped him with a grip on his bicep, peering up at him with serious eyes, “You need to be aware of how you treat me in public going forward. If you start pulling some Alpha bullshit and favoring me on missions or doting on me in front of our friends I will make sure every one of your enemies finds out Dynamight can’t handle the cold. Understood?”

He bared his teeth and in a low whisper said, “Don’t get such a big head— you’re still an extra to me.” 

With that he had tugged his arm from your grasp and headed out.

He would never admit that what you had said was exactly what had been weighing on his mind since he found the pill bottle.

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

tainted love

pairing: javier peña x steve murphy

cws/tags: only one bed, when you gotta jerk off ur partner bc he can't sleep but it's just a platonic thing dw #totallynotgay, use of f-slur, frottage, watching porn together briefly, mutual masturbation, technically infidelity ig but what connie doesn't know can't hurt her

summary: steve can't sleep and he's keeping javi up, so they have to jerk off ???

a/n: homosexual activities return to my blog

thank you to @almostempty for your help w this ! i could not have done this w/o you

wc: 3k

It’s not the first time Javi’s ended up with Steve’s name on his lips and his own hand wrapped around his cock. It’s not an everyday occurrence – Javi has tons of masturbation-worthy images in his collection of sacred memories. He’s got dalliances with hookers, something more and simultaneously less with that one communist girl, even Lorraine, back when she was something other than a blurry, ever-present mistake in his periphery. But, these thoughts are finite. In desperation, he’ll search for more. 

Sometimes more is his partner, partner in work, not in sex, not really, not yet. It comes down to the way Steve looks when he’s pissed off, the way anger forces him into physical contact despite the fact that he’s not a touchy-feely guy. It’s the time he had Javi pressed up against the wall in the hallway of the DEA office in Medellin – it felt like deja vu, he’d seen that moment on an x-rated videotape that no one would ever know he rented. Fuck government secrets, it’d take a harsh interrogation to get Javi to reveal the fact that he watched gay porn by his own volition. More than once. 

It’s a sleepless night like any other except Javi’s not in his own bed or anyone else’s, he’s in a hotel room he’s sharing with Murphy. It’s not the worst thing that could’ve happened – he could’ve gotten stuck with Stechner, but Messina decided to pair up with him for a reason Javi doesn’t want to hear about. 

There’s alcohol somewhere, but not in his overnight bag – maybe in the minibar, but that’s on the far side of the room and whether it comes out of his pocket or not, the prices make him feel sicker than a hangover would.  

Though he and Steve are facing away from each other, he can tell that he’s not sleeping either. It needles at him in the dark. Steve’s wakefulness bleeding onto Javi’s side of the bed, his body heat threatening to burn through the ever present wall of masculinity that keeps him at a distance. 

Murphy tosses and turns to the point where Javi wonders if he’s doing it for attention – he’s doing a great job if so. Javi rolls over to tell him to cool it. 

“Would you cut that shit out?”

“I can’t sleep.”

“Neither can I. Because of you.”

Steve shrugs as best one can in his position. 

“What do you want? A bedtime story?”

“Might be kinda nice.”

“Alright,” Javi says, like he’s really committed to the idea. “One night, there was a DEA agent who killed his partner–”

“Okay. I get it.”

“How the fuck does Connie sleep in the same bed as you?”

“I guess I don’t really toss and turn when I’m with her.” He pauses.

“She usually holds me – or I hold her. Not like a baby or anything, but you know…”

“You need to be cuddled to sleep? Seriously?”

He really seems to think about it. “No.”

“‘Cause the only way I’m holding you is in a headlock.”

“How do women sleep with you, huh? You’re wide awake and pissy about it.”

“When I said women sleep with me, I didn’t mean it literally.”

“So, you kick ‘em out of bed? Sounds about right,” Murphy says it with a smirk, like he’s gotten one over on Javi, but he hasn’t. 

“No, they know to leave. Or, I do. It’s bedroom etiquette. You wouldn’t know.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I’ve got something better – a wife. She sleeps with me for free.”

“God knows why.”

“She loves me. I’m loveable, Javi.”

That one strikes a nerve, but Javi doesn’t dare let it show.

“Maybe by her standards.”

“You saying she has low standards?”

“She could do better. She’s a very nice woman.”

“What does that mean?”

“Relax, man. I’m not trying to fuck your wife. I’m not that much of a scumbag.”

“Good. Not that I think she’d be into you anyway.”

“Plus, I can get laid without traveling to Miami.”

Steve huffs. It was a low blow, Javi’s willing to admit that.

“Okay, listen. We gotta be up in the morning, so let’s get practical here. You with me, Murphy?”

“Aye aye, cap,” he says with the least enthusiasm. 

“So, she’s been gone for a while, and I don’t see you coming to work looking like complete shit – at least, not any worse than you used to — so how are you getting to sleep?”

“I mean, I usually, you know…”

When Javi gestures to say go on, though he’s pretty sure he knows, Steve says much quieter, “Jerk off.”

“Was it that hard to say it?”

“I mean, it’s a little awkward.”

“What are you? 12? Everyone jerks off.”

“So, what? You want me to just jerk off?”

“Not here,” he says incredulously at the notion despite the fact that it does excite him. “In the shower if you have to.”

“I don’t usually do it in the shower.”

“You get to try something new then.”

“If I have to get up, then dry off, get dressed again, I think it’ll just start the whole process over.”

“So what? You want me to go stand outside and wait for you to finish?”

“The idea doesn’t sound unappealing…”

“No way am I doing that.”

Pissed off and admittedly aroused by the thought, he suggests, “You know what? Fuck it – put up a pillow barrier between us, and go ahead. Find something on pay-per-view so I don’t have to hear anything from you.”

“You serious?”

“If it’ll help you sleep.”

They fight over pillows and that’s only half the battle.

“Do you think they’ll know we’re buying–”

“Yes, so get something normal, will you? I don’t want anything weird showing up on the bill.”

“Relax. What’d you think I was gonna pick?”

“I don’t know. I don’t really think about your porn habits.”

“Well, what do you like?”

“What?”

“What do you like, Javi? We should find something we agree on.”

“So, now I’m a part of this?”

“I was trying to be nice.”

Javi stays silent while Steve rattles off possibilities. “We’ve got lesbians, mature women, threesomes…”

Javi gives him an unenthusiastic ‘sure’ to each option. 

“Oh, here’s the gay section,” Murphy says with a laugh.

And to avoid an awkward silence, Javi jokes - or tries to, “Don’t knock it till you try it.”

And Steve’s head turns around faster than you’d think was possible. “Oh, so you’ve tried it?”

“I was making a joke.”

“That’s not a no.”

“Why do you even care? Just stop stalling and pick something.”

Though he’s clearly still considering prying, he settles on whatever the most basic shit is – some blonde girl getting railed by some dude with a cock big enough to distract from his lackluster face. 

It’s about a minute of fake moaning that somehow makes things worse before Steve asks, “Do you think if we change the channel, they won’t charge us since we barely watched it?”

“Might as well try. Turn on PBS or something. That shit’s always free.”

It’s free but it’s a science documentary. Slimy jellyfish and the old men who know a concerning amount about them flood the screen. 

“Just turn off the TV,” Javi says, unable to hide his disgust.

Murphy spits into his hand, takes his cock out, and Javi is listening intently to it all. It makes him uncomfortably hard. He won’t sleep if he doesn’t get off, and at this point there’s no real shame in it. 

They breathe in tandem, each strangled sound egging the other one on, until Steve dares to ask, “So, you said you’ve watched gay porn before?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“But you didn’t say you haven’t.”

“Fine. Yes, I have. Can we go back to not talking right now?”

“But I’m curious.”

“Keep your curiosity to yourself.”

“Have you ever done anything with a guy?”

“Why? Do you want me to tell you a story about me getting a handjob from some guy outside a bar when I was hammered? You really wanna get off to that?”

“Maybe. If you can jazz it up a little.”

“I barely even remember it.”

That’s not entirely true. 

Sure, the memory’s faded a little over time, but he wasn’t blackout drunk like he wants Steve to believe. He was young, and a little bit desperate due to a recent breakup. It was hard to put on a face that said ‘I’m approachable and you’d have a good time if I took you home,” so the only attention he got that night was from a guy only a bit older than him, he’d guess. It was the kind of thing where he should’ve known it wasn’t friendly banter from the beginning, and maybe he did – he just didn’t want to believe that he was letting this happen, that he was engaging in it, that he was enjoying it. 

It got a little touchy-feely in a way real Texan men aren’t supposed to, unless they’re faggots. The word rings in Javi’s ear, and it’s the only thing louder than Murphy’s heavy breathing, which is far closer in time and space. 

The guy – whose name he’ll likely never know – led him outside and whatever ‘it’ was went down in an alley.

“Did you like it?”

“I liked it enough.”

Enough to cum from a handjob alone, and enough to try to give one back, and the only reason he didn’t really get to was because his hands shook, and it was summertime. 

‘You’re not used to this are you?’.

‘No, I’ve never…’

‘It’s okay,’ he said, removing Javi’s hand, gingerly, almost apologetic.

The goodbye kiss was anything but – it was tongue and teeth, indulgent. You could say it was self-indulgent on the other guys’ part, but you’d be wrong. It felt like it lasted longer than the handjob, and maybe it did, but god, that’d be too embarrassing to admit even in his own mind. It was the kind of kiss that dared Javi’s cock to spring back to life and he fought it desperately. 

‘See you around.’

But the pair never did. Javi convinced himself it never happened and during drinking games or friendly teasing he insisted that he’d never touched another man, just like every other friend of his. 

So, why would he tell Steve?

Before Murphy can ask another goddamn question, he turns it on the fucker, “Why don’t you tell me about your sex life?”

“I mean, besides Connie, there hasn’t been anyone since I was, fuck, I don’t know…”

“Is Connie any good?”

“Of course she’s good.”

Javi waits for the ‘but’ with a raised eyebrow, and it comes. 

“It just gets boring, alright? I love her, though.”

And Javi knows he does. He knows he does because Murphy can’t sleep without her in bed beside him. 

It doesn’t miss Javi that Steve’s breath falters more when Javi’s name leaves his mouth. 

“Javi…” He’s been stroking himself the entire time, but he’s not close, it’s not a plea to cum. It’s a hesitant question. 

“Yes, Murphy?”

“Why do you always call me by my last name?”

“I don’t know, Steve.”

It’s just to get a reaction out of him, which it does, subtle enough that another person might not catch on, but Javi’s waiting for it. 

And the reason is probably somewhere between the fact that he calls everyone by last name - and, come to think of it, it’s actually kinda weird that Murphy calls him by his first name - and because he feels like exchanging first names equals real friendship and somehow, that’s too intimate for Javi.

“Is that better?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Steve…”

“Yeah?”

“You want this, right?”

“If you do.”

“You gotta tell me. ‘Cause I’m not doing anything if you’re not into it.”

The distance between them dissipates. It doesn’t matter who closes the gap – if one didn’t, the other would. 

Javi looks back and forth between Steve’s cock and his mouth and tries to decide what’s right. Because he wants both, he has to find another metric to measure, to make his choices for him. 

Dive right in and take Steve’s cock in his hand to avoid the intimacy that locking lips requires? Kiss him to quiet everything including his own mind? 

He’s dumbfounded for a moment and you’d think he’s the one who’s never touched a man before if you didn’t know any better. The thing is: Javi can jerk another man off, even give a likely mediocre drunken blowjob. The difference is, this is Steve, naked in bed beside him. The difference is, he’s thought about this. The decision to do this shouldn’t be this easy when he’s sober. But his inhibitions are dangerously low because he’s dreamed about this. 

He’s played out fantasies before that he knows wouldn’t - shouldn’t – become reality. There are countless reasons not to do this - Steve is married, this could ruin both of their careers, this could compromise the most important case in DEA history. 

There is only one reason this should happen: desire.

Javi leads with his heart not his head (admittedly, his dick has influenced this specific decision to a significant degree).

His contemplation is cut off by Murphy’s lips pressed to his. The kiss is hesitant only until Javi reciprocates. Then it leans more towards animalistic than sweet but it’s needier than anything. Between the two of them desperation has only ever led to tension that boils over into fighting, but somehow insomnia is all it took to get them here. 

His brain has one thought playing on loop - the simple fact that he is actively kissing Steve Murphy. Until his mind is free of thoughts. Sex usually works like that for him, particularly with women ‘cause he doesn’t have to worry about the persistent guilt and fear of getting caught in the back of his mind, but his stress rarely fades at just kissing. Maybe they’re not just kissing. It feels like something more. Javi can’t think, but he sure as hell can feel, and he’ll feel this for days, weeks, months, maybe years if he’s really unlucky and there’s no feeling strong enough to replace this one.

The pillows that stood between them are now strewn across the floor as are the pretences. This isn’t one coworker tolerating another’s nighttime routine – at the very least, this is a friend helping a friend in a time of need. But that sounds too innocuous – too generous, even sacrificial. What they’re doing is fumbling around in the dark (even though Javi aches to turn on the lamp, to see, to savor) trying to find out how to get this over with the quickest, what will make the other cum first while learning how to drag this out, how to tease, how to get the other to the edge and no further. How to do this together. 

It starts with the kiss, with Javi lazily stroking his own cock until he dares to place his hand on Steve’s inner thigh. It’s a hesitant question and a final warning, and in response Steve’s breath hitches. They lock eyes for a moment before Javi removes Steve’s hand from his cock and replaces it with his own. There is no protest, only a low groan before he takes Javi’s cock in his hand with a firm grip that makes it feel more like retaliation than returned favor. It also feels way too fucking good. Javi takes it as an invitation for competition, his right hand is more dedicated and focused, moving faster while his left grabs Steve’s jaw and brings him into a kiss fueled by a passion that feels closer to rage than love. 

Javi takes Steve’s bottom lip between his teeth and tugs on it slightly, as if a gentle pull in the right direction would bring Steve into Javi’s lap. It elicits a startled jump in his ragged breath - and they were long overdue to pull back for a breath - Javi takes the opportune moment to tell Steve to come closer in a voice that one uses to discipline an unruly soldier. 

Javi has to maintain a certain amount of control through aggression lest he let the mask slip and reveal his own nervousness, his curiosity, how little he really knows about how this is supposed to go, and how much he wants to press Steve flat on the mattress and take this slow. 

He finds himself moving hastily to shift himself and his partner - now in work and in sex - into a position where he can jerk them both off simultaneously, cocks loosely held together in his fist. Javi’s thrusts lead and Steve’s follow. 

Neither of them last very long. 

There’s a collective initial sigh of physical relief and a subsequent realization of what had just occurred between the two of them. 

What is he supposed to say? ‘Thanks’? ‘Sleep tight’? Is he supposed to say anything at all?

Murphy gets out of bed disturbing the relative peace in the air. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Javi asks.

“Shower,” Murphy says, leaning in the doorway of the bathroom. “Ever heard of one?”

“Thought you didn’t wanna take a shower ‘cause it would make it harder to sleep.”

And that’s how we ended up here. 

“I’m not going to bed like this,” he says, gesturing to the mess he and Javi had both left on his stomach. 

“I don’t wanna go to bed like this either, but it’s four in the goddamn morning.” They’re back to whisper yelling and somehow it feels nice to have that sense of normalcy. 

Murphy stands there waiting for a better argument, but instead he gets Javi storming out of bed straight towards him and dragging him into the shower. 

It’s not romantic, not in the slightest - they argue over the water temperature and who’s taking up too much room. They don’t wash each other’s hair or look at each other with stars in their eyes. But, they leave their clothes on the floor and slip into bed naked, not holding each other, but not wincing when their shoulders touch. 

“Did that really happen last night?” Murphy asks with a yawn, forcing Javi to confront reality after he’s pressed snooze more than once. 

“I don’t know,” he says. “You tell me.”

“Yeah, yeah, I think so.” He sounds more confident with every word. 

“Okay. Then, I think so too.” 

[kimmi-never-dies]

Yandere!Hyun-Ju x fem!reader head canons

(A/N): I know the poll is still up and is likely gonna change when I'm in the process of finishing this up but I had time now and this prompt was in the lead so I just decided this is what I'm writing.

TW: yandere, obsessive behavior, mentions of but never graphic violence, mentions of stalking and implied kidnapping, drugging.

Her behavior:

Again, she’s definitely a hopeless romantic, Hyun-Ju seems like the type to crave intimacy, affection, and all the other cheesy romance things, but never knows how to ask for it.

And adding that, along with the fact that society practically turned its back on her the second she wanted to openly be the woman she was on the inside, kinda turned her into an obsessive, clingy person.

She doesn’t mean to be this way, she’s just scared of being abandoned again.

Hyun-Ju never thought she’d end up becoming so infatuated with someone, but when you entered her life, everything changed.

You were so different from everyone else, you accepted her, you were so understanding and gentle…

She needed you more than life itself…you were a lifeline for her.

I kinda see Hyun-Ju being two sub-types of yandere, delusional and dependent.

She’d definitely disguise most of her delusions as jokes, for example:

“What do you mean you’re going on a date? But you’re my wife! You can’t be unfaithful!”

But her dependency is very clear, but dependency can be easily explained by abandonment issues, so you’d never guess it was really because she was practically addicted to you.

But she really can’t help it! After the games…after all the people she’d lost…she needed to keep you safe, she needed you to stay.

Dealing with rivals:

Definitely a jealous type, literally wants to scream, cry, and physically rip you away from anyone who’s not her.

Hyun-Ju doesn’t wanna share your attention, you should only focus on her!

HYUN-JU WAS A SARGENT IN THE SPECIAL FORCES

She is SCARY.

If she did happen to somehow gain a romantic rival she’d first stalk them online until she’s figured out everything about them.

She’s gotten a lot of people cut off from your life by digging up old tweets…

But if that doesn’t work, she isn’t above getting her hands dirty…

I don’t think Hyun-Ju could actually bring herself to just straight up murder someone, I know she went crazy on those guards but ACTUAL murder I don’t think so.

But she’s definitely not afraid to follow someone home and beat the ever-loving shit out of them as a warning.

Confessing to her darling:

There’s two ways this could go, and it really depends on you: Tonight was *finally* the night, Hyun-Ju was gonna tell (Y/n) how she felt about her! Everything was prepped and ready, she decorated her apartment with fairy lights, lit a couple of (Y/n)’s favorite scented candles, and made dinner. Hyun-Ju was now just getting dressed and awaiting her sweet-girls arrival.

She was dressed up in a beautiful forest-green dress with a gold necklace with an (your first initial) shaped pendent, which she got a while ago, playing it off as “there were no H’s and it made me think of you.” Her makeup was also simple, her signature brown winged liner, some mascara, and a bit of red tinted-gloss

The silence of Hyun-Ju’s apartment was suddenly interrupted by a knocking at the door.

‘She’s here!’ Hyun-Ju thought to herself excitedly as she rushed to open the door.

She could’ve fallen to her knee and proposed right then and there…

(Y/n) was stunning…her dress/suit hugging her body in all the right ways, and her hair was done perfectly, just like always…

-a few hours later-

After a while of eating dinner and watching some stupid comedy movie, Hyun-Ju finally worked up her courage and turned to face (Y/n). Her hands were shaking as she paused the tv, looking into her (e/c) eyes with nothing but love and a small twinge go something…darker…

“Sweet girl…I know we’ve been good friends for such a long time but…over these past few years I’ve wanted something more, I love you, and I wanna be your wife one day…so with that being said, please…will you be my girlfriend…?”

You sat shocked for a few minutes before responding to her, you couldn’t help but notice the desperate yet hopeful look on her face.

“Oh Hyun-Ju…”

Yes

"I'd love to..."

did she hear that right?

yes??

she would grin from ear to ear, pull you close as gently as she could, and kiss you.

this first kiss and every kiss after that would be full of love, passion, and happiness, masking the obsessive and violent feelings that got here to this moment, here with you...

And she was never letting you go...

No

"I'm sorry...I don't feel the same...but I'd love to still be your friend."

friend?

FRIEND??

all of this, following you everywhere, taking all those pictures of you, fighting off rivals left and right, only for you to wanna be FRIENDS!?

Hyun-Ju was NOT accepting this, but luckily she already had a backup plan.

struggling didn't help much when she lunged at you, pinning you to the ground effortlessly as she pulled something out of her dress pocket.

and once you felt that prick in your neck, and the sedative hit, you didn't struggle at all.

don't be scared sweet girl, she won't hurt you.

she'll make sure no one can hurt you...or even find you again...

[squidsinashirt]

U must have some amazing stories about your dad u can share! 🤩

I’ve sat on this one for a bit, sorry Anon. Wasn’t intentional but I… just didn’t know how to answer it.

I mean, I get it. He’s Jeff Tracy, right? The Jeff Tracy. I can remember being just a little kid, and going to meet him off coming home from his latest mission. All these huge crowds cheering for him, those amazing rockets, and little me thinking all this, for my dad?

The thing is, everybody has their own stories about him. It’s fascinating, because you’ll hear all these other tales that exist only thanks to other people. Colonel Casey, Captain Taylor, heck even Kip Harris knew him. All these huge figures have got larger than life tales of the incredible things Jeff Tracy did, and was, and inspired. There’s statues and plaques to him, and you can take a tour at the space centre about his missions, and there’s books and movies and documentaries…

There are five incredible machines he dreamt up, standing by to help achieve this fantastical goal of his to help the world. I suppose in a way, you get to snatch a little glimpse of who Jeff Tracy was, and what he believed in, every time one of them appears to save the day. Every time some kid points an excited finger up at Thunderbird Two or squints after a contrail that was Thunderbird One, there he is. That magic, that excitement, that kind of imposing extraordinary that he did so well.

Anyway, to get back on track. People come bounding up to us, to me, and they ask this sort of question all the time, and that’s the thing about being JEFFTRACYSSON (said in one breath at rapid pace, because that’s the way people greet you). I get the curiosity, I really do. I don’t say it with any malice intended, and it’s comforting to know he still has that kind of impact. I’m always happy to talk about him, I promise!

It’s simple to be JEFFTRACYSSON when you pull on an International Rescue uniform. It took a little practice to ease into at first, but it’s perfected now. It’s really easy to talk about how we believe in his dream, how we’ve all taken on that duty in our individual and collective ways. In the importance of iR, in what it means to us as family. Shiny uniform, perfect hair, smile and wave and save some lives 💪🏻

Please don’t read into this in the wrong way - I’m very proud to be Jeff Tracy’s son. It’s actually quite difficult to really put across how strongly I feel about the weight of that title, because it’s pretty sacred (and also a little intimidating at times). Everywhere we go, it’s “oh, you must be Jeff’s boy” or “oh, you’re a Tracy”, and that means there’s instantly an expectation to live up to, both publicly and privately. It’s a privilege, it really is, and I think it’s a kind of sacrosanct commitment that has really been at the centre of my thinking as I’ve gotten older - how to try and be the sort of man that deserves that kind of birthright.

I don’t just mean the public side of being Jeff Tracy’s son. See, behind the scenes, to me, to us as a family, he was every bit human in a very ordinary way.

He made the best Sunday pancakes.

He cheered far too loudly at swim competitions (and teenage me was perpetually mortified by it) and was every bit as encouraging and supportive as you might guess.

He told these excellent, awful dad jokes, always at just the wrong (or right, I suppose) moments that made you groan.

He used to let me drive his old truck up the drive when he came home from a long mission, playing country songs with the window rolled down.

We loved pranking Mom together by hiding in the laundry bin and jumping out like idiots.

He told the most spectacular, far fetched bedtime stories he swore were real, and my brothers and I could never get enough of them.

He was also away for months on end in space, or training, or lost in his plans and ideas and dreams, and sometimes that meant he wasn’t really here with us, even if he was.

He couldn’t do laundry for shit, and he was absolutely useless at trying to run a house with five young sons on his own, and only a military background to lean on for ideas (thanks Grandma and Scott for saving that one).

Being Jeff Tracy’s son is a little more complex than just the uniform, I guess, and because of that I don’t always recognise the Jeff Tracy in the books and the movies, the one that people are so desperate to hear more about.

I think that’s why I find answering questions like this so difficult, and why maybe my answers never land particularly well with the people who ask this. Because the expectation for them is an entire reel of grand tales that haven’t been heard yet out of me. Some heroic, unbelievable stories that reads like the plaques - and then they are always a little disappointed that it turns out all I can say is that he was a real person. Somebody who was very human and very brilliant and very flawed, and who I loved very much. Because to me, he’s my dad.

And ultimately, nobody wants to hear about that. It doesn’t fit their two dimensional, mythical image of him, or my brothers and I for that matter. Us being a fairly regular family doesn’t really inspire the kind of tales that perhaps lend themselves to be told.

(This is the biggest reason I don’t do interviews, because I’d be like you wanna hear about the time he took us on a hiking trip, got us lost in a storm and Mom nearly divorced him because she thought we’d all been eaten by coyotes? No? It’s hilarious, honestly!)

That’s alright, though. Like I said, the movies and the books are there to tell those stories, and Lee Taylor will happily yap your ear off for an hour about their exploits if you want. Dad’s legacy, in that form, is more than secure.

They’re not going to ever be able to tell you about his favourite pancake toppings though, or his favourite song to dance to in the kitchen or his favourite swear word, and there’s the real privilege in getting to be Jeff Tracy’s son. In getting to carry him forward, not just the stories.

…

…

This got a lot deeper than I intended it to go. I’ve had a beer and I rambled. Sorry Anon.

Ahem. Good question! I guess I’m just not the best person to answer it, ironically enough ;)

I guess the best that I can offer is that if you are ever in trouble and call us, just know that there was a really great human being behind the face that made it all possible, who told the worst jokes, but who cared a whole f-ing lot.

*insert generic story here about Dad and a rocket*

[splatoon3-countdown]

i’m sad so i made this

modding exists but it’s still the end of an era ya know

rest in peace eShop

[ricky-mortis]

A portrait of Sir John Herschel because I‘m normal about Pulp Musicals

[fuckdamn]

everytime i’m faced with wild overt misogyny that’s just platformed like it’s nothing i remind myself that people don’t actually have to feel this way about women. men are fully capable of treating women like human beings and viewing them as such. “but socialization but male fantasies but patriatchy speaks through us even when we don’t recognize it” sure but actually regardless there exist men who are fundamentally not raging misogynists and they generally seem happier and better adjusted. misogyny to me isn’t disappointing because “oh i can’t believe Men, as an essentialized category of person, are like this” it’s disappointing because people make the choice to be like this. “it’s my biological imperative as a man to dominate you” okay well it’s my biological imperative as a freaky bitch to dominate you so what now. what biological imperative is making you comment “onlyfans detected opinion rejected” on every picture of any attractive woman. i think i will always be understood by most people as a woman and i’m learning to accept that and trying to like it but misogyny makes me feel very trapped of course. but misogyny is a choice. which means some people make the choice to be misogynistic which is profoundly frustrating. but many other people choose not to be actively misogynistic and i believe anyone could choose not to be actively misogynistic if they wanted. so it’s a whole thing

[mellomadness]

I just fell down a rabbit hole about (legal) body disposal and part of me is so anxious wishing I could tell the FBI agent monitoring my internet searches that I’m just morbidly curious and I’m not planning on dying anytime soon (or planning anything ELSE, for that matter)

[j-esbian]

i lost the post but i saw someone talking about how some of y’all act like being weird is a choice and like. YEAHHHHHHH.

that’s fine, it might be for you. but i just live like this and don’t know any other way. like yeah i’ve worked customer service, i can do innocuous small talk, but anything beyond that, i don’t understand what i’m missing. and it’s frustrating to see the tonal disconnect especially from people who are like “uwu embrace weirdness!!” where they’re like. dressing quirky and talking about bugs and listening to obscure music and eschewing small talk to ask Deep Questions on the first date and unlearning their tendency to not infodump. and generally have an idea of what Weirdness is supposed to look like. idk man some of us wake up and get out of bed and can’t figure out why the rest of their coworkers chitchat with each other but when they join the conversation it dies.

weirdness is value neutral. let’s stop trying to turn it into a badge because quite frankly, it’s not a choice for everyone. it’s fucking exhausting to never be on the same wavelength as other people and they’re going to react the way they do and label you the way they will without any conscious actions on your end. it’s difficult to talk about this without feeling like you’ll be dismissed as immature, a teenager whining “no one understands me” but the thing is. sometimes you don’t grow out of feeling alone and different, and there’s no good way to talk about it without feeling like people will think you’re just fishing for pity.