#if anything i feel safest when i'm completely by myself

[juliamccartney]

bc apparently people feel differently about this —

would you feel comfortable sleeping in your building* at night, knowing that it was completely empty of other people all night long?

*if you don't live in a building, think of somewhere that's familiar and usually safe to sleep in (friend's home, family home, hostel/hotel etc.)

[scarletcomalies]

Wanda has been your best friend for almost ten years now, meaning you could trust her to chat about anything, without restricting yourself by prudeness or filters. But that trust went too far one day.

Word count: 1,119

Warnings: 18+ content, guided masturbation through phone call, kind of innocent and inexperienced reader.

A/N: I promise I'm NOT procrastinating this story, you'll have it sooner than you think, but, well, college... 💔

It was a big step, considering that you failed to enjoy every time you explored yourself with your fingers alone. As much as you tried to play music, lie down, and imagine exciting scenes, you ended up frustrated because it wasn't enough. So you opted to buy a little help. Maybe this way you would be able to explore your tastes and to please yourself properly.

Your best friend, Wanda, had recommended an online site. It had all kinds of artefacts, many of which you didn't know existed, or considered too potent a level for a newbie like you. So you went with the safest option; a simple ten centimeter vibrator, with three levels of intensity.

And nothing...

You felt the tingle of the vibration inside you, but nothing built up. It was just a pleasurable sensation that led to nothing.

You had sent a message to Wanda, telling her that you had already received it, and just when you turned off the toy and put it aside, your phone notified a message from the redhead, where she asked you to tell her about your experience.

"It's useless, Wanda!" You answered, such a simple message but all your frustration could be transmitted in this one.

"What do you mean it's useless?" She replied.

"Maybe I'm anorgasmic or something, because I can't finish. I didn't feel it helped me."

You were perplexed when your phone screen displayed her name, indicating that you were receiving a call. This was unusual of her, but you didn't hesitate to answer.

"Honey," she let out a giggle, as soon as you picked up. "What exactly are you doing?"

"Well, when I feel needy, no matter how much I stimulate myself, I don't orgasm. Not even with the toy. It's horrible," you answered honestly.

These kind of talks were frequent between you, and that was something you loved about your friendship. No judgments, no prejudice, much less in the face of topics that, at the end of the day, were completely normal.

"Yeah, but what did you do with the vibrator?" She inquired.

"Well, I put it inside, the usual," you replied matter-of-factly. You didn't understand why other girls did get to feel something when they had something in there, and you didn't. Why you were more complex about everything?

"Just like that?" She exclaimed, and at your confirmation, she let out another laugh. "No, darling, you have to tease yourself, make yourself desperate for your own touch."

"And how do I even do that?" you asked curiously, but also with a hint of relief. She seemed to have the solution to your problem.

"It's complicated, do you want to try it now? I'll guide you through every step," she proposed.

The thought of hearing her voice guiding you, that she would be listening to you as you pleasured yourself, made the anticipation take over, again initiating that feeling that was begging to be satisfied.

When you thought of Wanda, or when you spent many hours together with her, that feeling came no matter how hard you tried to ignore it. It was no surprise when you realized that this was not something usual and that you definitely felt attraction towards her.

But you didn't want to ruin the friendship you treasured so much.

"No, that would be weird," you replied, feigning aversion to such a thing, when really, that was all you needed.

"Oh, come on!" Wanda exclaimed. "It wouldn't. I'd be helping you get to know yourself, please yourself. I won't even see you."

You sighed softly in resignation. She was right, maybe a lot of friends have given each other advice like that.

"Okay, fine," you agreed. "What do I do?"

Wanda was glad you couldn't see her smile of victory when you agreed, or else, she would've also given herself away.

"First, spread your legs, and place the tip of the vibrator on your clit," she instructed you.

You did as she asked, and no sooner had you pressed, when you felt an electric current run through your body in a matter of a fraction of a second.

"Oh, shit!" You exclaimed, withdrawing it as if by reflex.

"What do you feel?" She inquired curiously. She was aware such a cute little thing like you wouldn't be able to take it first time. But that was what she was there for.

"Weird, like a swift current!"

"Exactly! Please try to place it again, and little by little, apply pressure," she replied. "At your pace, there is no rush, darling," she purred, making your core throb in desperation at her raspy voice calling you that pet name.

Again, you did as she asked.

The intense vibration made all the nerve endings in that area react deliciously to the stimulus, and again, it sent that current through your body.

You let out a little murmur of pleasure, feeling yourself lose control over your body. Your back arched, your eyes closed, and your free hand fisted your sheets in an attempt to keep you grounded and resistant.

"Good girl, apply more pressure for me," Wanda added, noting from your murmurs that you were becoming familiar with the sensation.

Applying a little more pressure caused you to emanate your first moan since forever. That snapped you out of your trance briefly, and you realized you moaned with your friend on the other end of the phone.

"I'm sorry," you apologized, beginning to feel your cheeks heat up.

"None of that," she countered. "Don't hold back, let me hear you."

In a matter of minutes, you alone learned to listen to your body. You explored different areas and found your most sensitive spots. You were so focused on not leaving a single inch untouched, that you even forgot that Wanda was listening to the mess of moans, whimpers, and murmurs of her name that you were letting out.

"Mmm, Wanda!" They became more audible tones, signaling that you were close. There was too much to process, but Wanda decided to quiet her thoughts and allow herself to be delighted by the wonderful sounds you were making.

Hearing you cum for the first time was the most beautiful of all, by far.

A scream of pleasure too desperate, even animalistic, for your own good. Your so innocent set could not withstand that longing finally reaching its highest exponent, after so much stagnation. She was even surprised your little lungs allowed you to scream like that.

Wanda provoked all that in you, without having touched you... yet. But she made up her mind that it would change.

"Start over, but don't you dare cum," she commanded you. "I'm coming over in ten," she established, before hanging out.

[moonligsposts]

Finnick Odair x reader

And I fell to the ground… I couldn't discerned the environment around me as my eyes could barely stay open due to the sun's rays.

Not far from where I lay helpless, there was the body of the tribute from the second district, without his head.

The fight had been to the death and that feeling of numbness, caused by I don't know what, hadn't helped me at all. I don't even know how I managed to raise my sword, since I was on my knees in front of him partially unable to breathe, and manage to complete a blow that managed to decapitate him.

Before entering the arena I would never have considered myself capable of carrying out such an atrocious action, but once you’re inside you can't wait to leave, but in my case dying was not allowed: my family is waiting for me at home, the last wish of a little girl from the seventh district was “Please, live your life for me too”, and lastly I promised someone that I would come back for him.

15 days ago

“Don't you dare leave me alone, there, without you. I'm begging you, darling. I can't live without you anymore.” My hand caresses his cheek; he is sitting in a chair with his arms around my waist.

“Finnick, you were a wonderful experience…”

“You were everything, you are everything.” His hands caress my back; I approach his lips and kiss them.

“I'll do anything for you, Y/n. My sweet girl, my sweet Y/n…”

“But please, not that… I don't want you to do that kind of things, Finn. Please, I wouldn’t forgive myself if you give yourself to someone who doesn't deserve you, neither your body. You’re gold… they don't deserve you.”

“And I don't deserve you, my love. I don't deserve you..."

“Don’t say shit… instead take me, Finn. Take me in your arms until the sun rises…”

“I was wanting for it for all this time, Y/n…”

We moved to the bed where we remained until the next day, the day we would have to separate without the certainty of being able to see each other again.

He was lying on his back and I was with my head on his chest.

“I think I love, Y/n.” I didn't react to those words; I didn't move an inch. I couldn't say I loved him because tomorrow I won't wake up knowing that he will be by my side but knowing that tomorrow will be either a goodbye or a see you later...

“Finnick…” I whisper softly and with a trembling voice.

“It's okay, honey. I said I think I love you… I'm not sure, yet.” His little laugh penetrated my heart… «I do love you» this was all I wanted to tell him but I wasn't brave enough.

Before it was too late, they took me from the arena and I was brought back to the Capitol, fresh as a rose: they had washed and restored every single remnant of the island, as if those 15 days had never happened.

My head stopped spinning, my eyes could see clearly again, my belly was intact again...

“We're here,” a woman informed me.

I stood up and felt neither fatigue nor pain, yet my right leg was torn until a few hours ago.

When the door of the plane opened, I almost rushed down, looking only for those sea green eyes that have encouraged me several times even from afar.

We had landed right on the roof of the building where I had been staying in the days before the Hunger Games.

As soon as I looked out of the plane's steps, a voice shouted my name.

“Yn!”

I turned towards his voice and saw him: a Greek God, breathtakingly beautiful, looking only in my direction.

I started running, feeling the need to throw myself into his arms.

How I missed… my mentor. Even if within a few days he had become something more and I had only understood it in the arena, when at the end of my strength his gifts fell from the sky, always accompanied by a note: “you're doing great, honey. ” “Keep fighting, sweet girl.” “Survive, baby.”

Every time I've got his messages I couldn't help but smile like a child.

Finally the meters separated us disappeared and I was finally in the safest place I could wish for: in the arms of Finnick Odair.

“Thanks, Finnick. You saved my life..." I whispered against his chest: his hands were one around my hips and the other immersed in my hair.

“No, you saved my life by winning that fucking game. How could I live without you?” He said leaving a kiss on my forehead. I lifted my head from his chest and looked into his eyes: beautiful but a little shiny.

“Finnick…”

“Yes, honey?” His hand moves to my check.

“I'm glad you're here.”

“Always, baby. I will always be by your side from now on, Y/n, I promise.”

Our embrace melted after a while, his hand took hold of mine and we went inside.

“Would you like to spend the night with me?” He said hesitantly, his confidence had disappeared: and he was only acting like that because he didn't want to force me to do anything.

“Of course, I wanna be with you tonight and the days after tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that… forever, Finnick.” A dazzling smile lit up his face: his lips placed a kiss on my hand which he held tightly in his.

“I love you, Y/n. You don't know how much.” My heart melted and I pulled him close to me, wrapping my arms around him. But he, with incredible speed, lifted me off my feet, placing my legs around his hips.

“You're coming into my room tonight, little girl.” Whisper in my ear “You want this, right?” I nodded. There was nowhere else I wanted to be but with him…

So I was carried into his room.

“Would you like me to kiss you?” He wisher and all I knew was that all my body was going on fire.

“Finnick, I'm yours, do to me what you want, I love you.” And this was the phrase of affirmation that man, as beautiful as the sun, needed to free himself from all that tension that he had to endure in those long days.

His lips ran down on my neck licking and sucking it. His hands reached up and unhooked my bra from over the sweatshirt I was wearing. My hands slid under his shirt, lifting it up, revealing his defined muscles.

“Do you like what you're seeing?” My response was only a muffled moan which, however, made him more excited.

While he continued to kiss my neck, he pressed me against the wall, I couldn't breathe: my desire for him was palpable and he was eager to have... me.

I took off my shirt and he threw away my bra, taking one breast in his hand: he squeezed it and rubbed his finger against the already swollen nipple.

Our mouths were one inside the other, and with his tongue he was devouring me: he sucked my lower lip, bit it and I tried to keep up with him but it was useless... I wasn't on his level.

Suddenly from the wall I found myself lying on the bed with Finnick pulling down my pants... caressing every inch of skin that he discovered little by little.

Once the trousers were off, he threw them across the room. He returned to my lips, careful to make his cock touch, hard, against my vagina.

I started lifting my pelvis moving it left and right, feeling his erection getting bigger and bigger.

“Careful, darling…” Finnick grunted, lifting his head and my movements became faster.

A guttural moan escaped him from those lips on which I rushed to devour them. His fingers reached the elastic of the panty and snapped it.

“Beg me…” And I wasn't even able to breathe let alone talking.

“Finnick, I want you, please…” with his palm he rubbed me underneath and I opened my legs more. I wanted every single part of my body.

He walked away from me, undid his belt, and took off his pants and boxers. He came back on me, leaving a nice mark on my collarbone as I raised my pelvis to touch his member.

“Stay down, Y/n.”

“Finnick…” his name was like a prayer, a cry addressed to him to speed up the process… but he didn't seem to care about my inability to hold back any longer. I've been dreaming about this moment for weeks and he was making me suffer before satisfying me, filling me up.

His cock moved away from the center of my legs and Finnick positioned himself right there.

“Let's see..." his finger traced a vertical line from bottom to top. "How wet you are, good girl." His head lowered and the contact of his hot tongue against my wetness made a cry escape my mouth...

“Yes, baby, let me hear you…” he said making me vibrate. He pinched my clit with his teeth and my hand dipped into his hair, pushing him closer and closer.

After exploring the entire area with his tongue, he began to make circular movements: fast, insatiable.

“Finnick…”

Between various moans and whispers of his name, I felt his finger entering me.

“Honey, you're so tight…” he said this time raising his head.

“I love it…” he smirked and started to move his finger up and down, curling it. Meanwhile, with the other hand he took care of the clit: rubbing and pinching it.

“More…” I wishered.

“As you want.” He put his middle finger to his lips. “Will you do it for me?” I nodded and took him between my lips, sliding my tongue along the length of him.

“Nice technique, love.” He smirked and finally I had two fingers of him in me.

I could easily come if he will keep going like that…

“Fin, please, I’m… close.” Another prayer came out of my lips. He just smiled and, finally, removed his fingers and brought his cock against my entrance.

It was so big, so bulky. I wasn't even sure if I could have him in me.

“Tell me to stop if it's too much painful…”

I wasn't scared at all, even if that was my first time and he knew it, all that I wanted was him.

Finally I felt his length in me, he entered slowly and his movements were the softest. As my walls adapted to his presence, he increased the intensity of the movements and I began to accompany them with my hips. And just when we reached a certain speed, my body contracted with numerous shocks and I came between moans and crying of his name.

As soon as my juice wet his member I saw a sparkle in his eyes and his movements became harder, more violent. My fingers gripped his back and I screamed his name over and over again. We both moaned and my legs trembled, but he didn't seem to get tired, in fact his movements, accompanied by the squirm due to the fact that I had come, were more and more violent but I didn't want him to stop, on the contrary...

Suddenly he exploded inside me, making me arch my back and fall my head onto the bed; filling me with him.

He fell on top of me, still inside me.

Our breaths were ragged and both our bodies were hot, quivering.

We didn't say a word until we were clear again.

Yes he slipped out from inside me and dropped onto the bed. His hand slipped underneath me and turned me onto my side.

“Are you okay?” He asked me gently and in a way that I just adored.

“I feel epic.” He laughed and that sound was all I needed to be happy.

“I love you, Finnick Odair.”

“I love you too, my loudest girl.”

[velvetvexations]

And I can absolutely guarantee you no one would give a single flying fuck if a trans woman replaced a trans guy in a meme comic with herself. Because it's no big deal, and it's simply about finding something to be mad at the evil "TMEs" about or whatever. Truly, we must fight transphobia at the front lines! (Other trans people parodying meme comics)

Absolutely not lmao. But then it's fine, because, like, trans men are privlaged, so stealing their memes is like pirating a Disney movie, whereas stealing a transfem meme is practically snatching the food right out of a Victorian orphan's hands.

Are you not excited for the future where art styles are trademarked?

I'm still not entirely sure if I identify as a kinna non-binary or if I just feel myself to be a very butch transfem who likes using certain terms for myself to emphasize the unique nature of my femininity.

But I don't know what else to call it except for exorsexism when I get the five millionth side-eye for "AMAB trans woman," especially since I know people would go off the edge accusing me of being a TERF twenty times more if I said "male" like I actually want to.* Like, dadgum, can people not handle a girl choosing to identify in some way with a term traditionally associated with her body-type because she likes it without assuming she's another Blaire White?

Like this is that soul-gender shit I get riled up about, the word "male" isn't real! The ♂ is not a magic rune that wards against femininity! I can choose to identify with that and still be a woman, and when I enter a women's space while identifying openly as a male woman, that's going to piss TERFs off more than any of them ever could.

*I also identify myself as an AMAB trans woman to support AFAB trans women and other transfem folk, but I think using 'male' would do that just as well too

I DIDN'T KNOW IT HAD ANYTHING TO DO WITH TRANS PEOPLE EITHER

Eyyup. The safest queers always pretend the world outside the community is completely hypothetical so they can get down to the crucial business of praising them for breathing.

The comparisons to acephobia at least gives me hope things will get better, but I hope it's fucking soon.

It's the closest people who're privileged enough to care about meme theft get to dealing with things like that, of course it's basically the same to them, if they stepped outside their gated community for a second they'd have a religious experience like the Great Renunciation of Siddhartha Gautama.

Some day we'll find out what number comes after one.

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

Why can't haired people make their own memes? Why must they consistently debald the memes of bald people?

It's different when it's transfems because, uh, well, radfems say so.

They really can't help themselves.

Apparently it's hypocritical of me to call that racist, though, because I once told a tankie to bark like a dog without even looking at their* profile. Like, I'm sorry I very generically insulted someone who turned out to be Black, I guess.

Also, I apparently harass Palestinian blogs, which is truly wild and I can only guess must come from me occasionally bringing up hypocrisy when I yell at tankies for being enthusiastically pro-genocide when they feel like it.

*I do not recall the pronouns this loser used

The issue you're noticing is that transfems don't get socially murdered nearly often enough for transradfems to sustain themselves, and they can't influence any real issues, so they have to make up problems to fuel the martrydom that places them above all other trans people.

Oh, that sounds spectacular! Kinna gross, but like, in a spectacular way!

They don't think it's possible for AFAB trans people to detransition, to them it's all just cis women pretending to be trans to rip them off and hurt them.

It's real fucking bad.

I'm very sorry anon, and I completely agree.

You'd be surprised by me not liking most modern art.

I'm really happy you have that, and that we can relate to each other. <3

Are Black people saying the "why this _ mad" meme is exclusive to Black people? Is that discourse that's happening?

[adobe-outdesign]

Thoughts on Glastrier and Spectrier's designs?

(This is the last Pokemon review request in the inbox right now. You know the drill, send 'em if you got 'em.

Also, note: the Ice and Shadow Rider forms were already done as part of Calyrex's review here.)

Glastrier reminds me a bit of a Gen 1 mon, in that it's like the first thing that comes to me if you mixed animal + element. Much as the Ponyta line is just "horse, but on fire", this is "horse, but with ice", with all the ice bits in the places you'd expect ice bits to be.

The most interesting part of Glastrier's design is the head—the large crystal coming off the back of the head is arguably vaguely unicorn-ish, and it transitions into a short ice mane down the back, which is kind of neat. It's also kind of neat that the mask is asymmetrical, with ice going all the way down one side but not the other, making it effectively half-blind. However, none of this really means anything or comes together particularly coherently, resulting in a fairly forgettable 'mon.

Spectrier is definitely the better of the two here. While it's still a bit straightforward, it does has one really cool element that feels particularly notable: the hooves are completely disconnected from the body and are actually backwards on top of that, calling to mind some mythologies like the Kelpie. This is actually both really cool visually and a good concept to build upon that goes a bit beyond just "horse but ghost".

However, the rest of the design, while not as bland as Glastrier, is kind of underwhelming compared to those cool legs. It has a wavy purple man that feels weirdly solid (though the tips of it do fade away a bit)—I could've easily seen it matching the ethereal look of the hooves. The body is just a regular black horse, nothing notable there. The eye is kind of interesting, as it basically never ones it. And that wasn't a typo—it has one eye on one side of its body, similar to how Glastier's second eye is covered with ice.

This is kind of neat, but once again, it doesn't have any real purpose to it. If these two were able to fuse together to form a single horse with both eyes or something, that would add meaning. As is, it's a neat detail but not one that amounts to anything.

Similar to Glastrier, it feels like the design could've been pushed more and expanded to continue off of those cool hooves. Make the mane and tail completely disconnected, make the body be two separate pieces that only get a glowing middle bit when saddled by Calyrex, make the head detached or upside-down—there's so many options here, and this just feels like the safest route.

I already went over the Rider forms in the Calyrex review so I'm not going to repeat myself too much, but it also feels like these guys could've tied into Calyrex's design more (and by extension, the Pooka mythology that the Rider concept is arguably based on). Maybe they have ice and spectral saddles or naturally occurring reins, for example—something to hint that these guys can be mounted as steeds.

Overall, these guys are fine, but feel a bit under-baked and could've used fleshed out more from both a visual and conceptual standpoint. Between the two, Spectrier is the most interesting option. I do wonder if they could get alternate forms or megas in the future, as there's definitely room for expansion here.

[kopivie]

oh boy, a sentimental vent from cinna? again? shut up already! (i will not.)

so, i met my stepfather when i was about four years old.

i absolutely hate referring to him as my stepfather, btw. he's my father, dammit.

the funniest thing to me is the fact that i have a very distinct memory of the time we went to a waterside park when i was young and he taught me how to skip rocks. well, he tried to teach me. i couldn't do it then, and i still can't do it now, but i remember thinking he was so cool. that memory is tucked away inside my head in the safest place. but the funny thing about that memory is that i always swore i had known my dad for at least a year when we went to that park. turns out that wasn't the case – according to my mom, that was actually the very first day i had met him.

i feel like that says a lot about how i saw him from the get-go. i was still my mother's only child at the time, so if her boyfriends didn't get along with me, then she wasn't going to keep them around. apparently i told my mom that we absolutely had to see him again, so she trusted him and... the rest is history. as for my dad, he told me that that was the day he fell in love with me; i was his daughter from that moment forward.

i'm over here getting misty-eyed. i love my dad so much, y'all don't understand. 🥹

anyway! after that day, i'd go over to his apartment and he introduced me to video games! this was ~2005-2006, so the wii wasn't really out yet, but the dreamcast, playstation 2, and xbox already were.

i get my love of video games from my dad. in order to warm me up to being around him in close quarters, he let me play so many games — games that i hold near and dear to my heart to this day. marvel vs. capcom 2 for the dreamcast, jak and daxter for the playstation 2, and a litany of xbox games are the earliest ones i can remember. (specifically jet set radio future, halo 2, prince of persia, and dead or alive 2 for the xbox.)

and then, when the wii came out, he practically gave me full ownership of the console. i wasn't a nintendo kid initially, but i certainly was after 2006. super mario galaxy 1 and 2, mario sports mix, mario super sluggers, mario strikers charged, mario and sonic at the olympic games...

i really like mario games, okay?

god, it was so much fun being a kid. when he introduced me to his other kids, we bonded over video games! his youngest son at the time and i played so much that to this day, we still recall being super competitive and crazy over those old games. cooking mama, the olympic games, sports games (including wii sports), mario kart, fighting games... hell, even little big planet was a competition.

my brother is older than me, but he never mocked me for playing poorly with him. he never judged me, never bragged... of course, losing and/or coming in second all the time didn't exactly feel good, but i never stopped trying to be good at games while my brother was away.

but he had video games too, so... i was never gonna beat him at anything. that doesn't make playing alongside him any less fun.

all in all, video games brought me closer to my dad and my brother. and even now, my younger siblings and i bond over video games; every now and again, my little sister will text me to play splatoon together. because of my experience with competitive splatoon, i used to give her advice on how to improve. i don't play comp anymore (not really), but she's definitely taken some of my advice to heart. i never berate her for messing up nor do i micromanage her play style. we play games together because we love each other, and that's all there is.

why say all this, cinna?

well, nintendo finally decided to release their own music app. it doesn't include songs from every title ever, but the super mario galaxy soundtrack is on there. super mario galaxy was the very first game that i challenged myself to complete in its entirety. the game holds up to this day, so much so that nintendo put the first game on the switch.

literally begging on my knees for them to put super mario galaxy 2 on the switch... and every mario wii game, actually. BEGGING.

the soundtrack is absolutely gorgeous. one thing about nintendo's most iconic games is that they will NEVER miss with the music. (same goes for sega.) so i'm about to do work with the music of my childhood playing in my ears and i'm just... feeling sentimental.

my dad and i had a falling out recently, but after we made up, we became closer than ever. (mind you, the falling out lasted no more than two or three hours. we made up before sundown.) so every time i'm reminded of these older games, i think if my dad and how much of a gamer i turned out to be because of him.

tldr: in the words of that one tiktok audio: i fuckin' love my dad.

[ohbo-ohno]

took a few minutes to compose myself because thinking of gaz makes me lose my common sense😵😵😵😵

someone else mentioned in a previous ask that gaz uses pleasure as punishment to the point where you pass out and that stuck with me on a personal level because i am deathly afraid of physical pain. as much as i love being ghoap's darling kitten, i don't think I'd survive very long in their care if I'm being honest😅 so gaz is my safest and favourite bet.

which brings me to this;

if gaz uses pleasure as punishment for bad behaviour, does that also work for good behaviour too?

I'm so down bad for this man, considering the mental gymnastics he uses to keep his bunny in check (don't think I don't know about the carrot thing👀), I imagine she's less likely to act out of turn, compared to ghoap's kitten. so she gets rewarded more often than not🥴🥴🥴🥴

-🪐

belonging to ghost & soap or even price is an intense and difficult thing, your safest bet for a life with minimal pain is 100% kyle. he'd probably fuck with your head the most though, or at least as much as ghost

i think pleasure as punishment is gaz using your pleasure for himself, and pleasure for reward is you getting to actually enjoy the pleasure

so for punishment - gaz will make you feel so good it loops around to being excruciating. he'll eat you out for hours, nipping at your clit with sharp teeth and sucking so hard you feel like you'll lose every drop of liquid inside you. he'll shove a vibrator into your pussy as he fucks you so you're stretched nice and wide, and so he can enjoy the vibrations too. he says don't you like being stretched, bun? cmon, that doesn't feel good? feels good for me, and i can feel you clenching down so good and tight for me. don't lie, sweetheart, it'll only make your punishment longer.

he'll make you come over and over and over and over again because you squeeze his dick soooo nicely when you do. makes you squirt because he likes the way your body tries to force him out. he'll fuck your cervix, hold a heavy hand on your belly to emphasize your stomach bulge and make him feel even larger inside of you. he'll use your tits as stress balls, pluck your nipples and squeeze your breasts as he fucks into you. he'll leave so many hickies, you're more bruise than unbruised. he'll fuck your unconscious body a few times before setting you in your burrow with a few water bottles

but for reward, he's far nicer. he gives you breaks in between orgasms, strokes you to completion in the soft way he knows you enjoy. a soft tongue at your cunt, light pressure on your clit and two curling fingers inside your hole. slow, intimate sex with his forehead pressed against yours, deep and loving kisses against your mouth, slow strokes of his tongue over nipples. he coaxes every drop of pleasure from your body, takes breaks between more overwhelming climaxes to massage your legs, your shoulders, your back. endless praise, endless pets, endless kisses. he'll give you anything you beg for, give it to you at the pace you want.

[rosanna-writer]

Our Song - A Gwynriel Songfic

Just a short songfic based on Taylor Swift's "Our Song" for Day Two of Gwyn Appreciation Week - Song Association

Originally I didn't have anything planned for today but the song came on at work, and I thought it would be fun to write something a little meta :)

The full fic is below the cut!

@gwynweekofficial

I was ridin' shotgun with my hair undone

In the front seat of his car

On yet another night that Gwyn and Azriel couldn't sleep, she found herself in his arms in the skies above Velaris. It happened less frequently now, but there were still nights like this, and they'd taken to flying once they'd given both up on attempting to sleep. The cool night air sometimes did them more good than trying and failing to rest.

He's got a one-hand feel on the steering wheel

The other on my heart

There was nowhere Gwyn would rather be than curled up against Azriel's chest with the city spread out beneath them. Even when they placed bets about how much free fall she could take before she screamed or if Az would beat his fastest time from one end of the city to the other, this felt like the safest place in the world.

I look around, turn the radio down

He says, "Baby, is something wrong?"

Tonight, though, they just made lazy loops around the city in companionable to silence. Gwyn might be able to draw Azriel out better than anyone else, but she didn't always need to.

After a while, Az glanced down at her and said, "Everything alright?"

I say, "Nothing, I was just thinkin' how we don't have a song"

And he says

It was, and Gwyn knew he'd know if it wasn't, but it was in his nature to confirm everything, not to make assumptions. Azriel didn't leave things to chance.

"Completely fine," she said, giving him a smile. "I was just thinking that for all the singing we do, it's a bit strange we don't have a song, isn't it?"

Our song is the slamming screen door

Sneakin' out late, tapping on your window

"It's probably for the best. Anything distinctive is predictable and easy to track."

Gwyn rolled her eyes and wondered if there was anything in the world he couldn't relate back to espionage. "Azriel. Not everything in life is about being sneaky."

When we're on the phone, and you talk real slow

'Cause it's late, and your mama don't know

"Not everything. But quite a lot."

His voice was deadpan, but Gwyn could read Azriel well enough to spot the barest hint of a smile on his face. He knew what he was doing, being pedantic just to rile her up a bit.

And Gwyn wouldn't give him the satisfaction of rising to the bait.

Instead, she just changed the subject and said, "Now that I think about it though, I wonder if you could use music to pass coded messages."

Azriel hummed thoughtfully, and Gwyn could feel it rumble in his chest. "A bit difficult to communicate much detail when there's only seven notes in a scale to work with, though."

If he wanted pedantic tonight, he'd get pedantic. Gwyn smiled.

"Actually there are twelve in a chromatic scale."

"That's still less than half the letters in the alphabet. My point still stands."

Our song is the way you laugh

The first date, "Man, I didn't kiss her, and I should have"

That was enough to consider it a draw. They lapsed back into comfortable silence and watched the city fly by underneath them.

Eventually Gwyn—completely incapable of letting anything go as always—said, "We really should have a song, though. And for the record, telling me having a song is predictable might be the least romantic thing you've ever said to me."

"Don't worry, I'm sure I'll outdo myself soon."

Gwyn laughed at that, then rested her head on the space between Azriel's head and shoulder. It fit perfectly, as if she was made to be there.

"There aren't a lot of things that are more important than being sneaky, but that laugh is one of them, you know," Azriel added softly.

Gwyn didn't have a sarcastic response for that, just kissed him.

And when I got home, 'fore I said, "Amen"

Asking God if he could play it again

They didn't stay out much longer than that. The flight had done its job, tiring Azriel out enough to catch a few hours of sleep. Gwyn wasn't quite so lucky, but sleepless nights weren't as bad when she spent them curled up against his side, one wing covering her like an extra blanket. While she listened to him breathe, she hummed to herself quietly and got lost in thought about music theory and cryptology.

I was walkin' up the front porch steps after everything that day

Had gone all wrong and been trampled on

The next day, Gwyn was not nearly as content. After only a couple hours of sleep, training the next morning was miserable. She couldn't bring herself to skip it. Instead, she gritted her teeth and forced herself to keep going, even though she lost three sparring matches in a row and failed to block countless hits she should have dodged.

No one asked what was wrong—the bags under her eyes were answer enough.

And lost and thrown away

Got to the hallway, well on my way to my lovin' bed

It had been a horribly long day, and Gwyn had pushed herself to get through all of it. Azriel considered telling her to rest, but he knew Gwyn—she'd only dig her heels in more if he did.

So instead, he made sure to be home first, ready to take care of Gwyn when the exhaustion finally overtook her and she collapsed into bed.

I almost didn't notice all the roses

And the note that said

And just as he predicted, she took one look at the carefully tabbed and annotated book he'd left on the nightstand for her and decided she'd open it when she'd gotten some sleep. The vase of roses next to it made her smile though.

Azriel was patient. He could wait until Gwyn had rested up enough to find the note he'd left explaining that he'd annotated the songbook for her because there was no obvious choice of which song should be theirs.

He'd rather just give them all to her.

I've heard every album, listened to the radio

Waited for something to come along

That was as good as our song

After flipping through the entire book together, Gwyn and Azriel agreed there wasn't a single song that felt quite right. Gwyn was beyond caring—it was the best gift she'd ever received.

But still, the next day, she'd returned to the library and gotten her hands on every book about music theory and codebreaking that she could find. She was on a mission.

I was ridin' shotgun with my hair undone

In the front seat of his car

Gwyn and Azriel had a few more weeks of peace before insomnia struck again. Gwyn had her nose stuck in the library books she was still making her way through when Azriel said he couldn't sleep either. He suggested flying again, and she never turned that down.

Gwyn sang softly to herself as they flew. She almost didn't realize she was doing it until Azriel joined in.

I grabbed a pen and an old napkin

And I wrote down our song

Something about the sound of their voices together unknotted the problem. When they got back home, she didn't come to bed, just cracked open the notebook full of staff paper and grabbed a pen.

Azriel might have thought that music was an impractical means of encoding information, but Gwyn was sure that with a few tweaks, her system would work.

And there was no song that was sweeter than "I told you so."

[my-castles-crumbling]

Something I find really challenging is the fact that i only started thinking about my gender identity after graduation high school. It’s been a year since I’ve been questioning my gender, and I finished high school a year and a half ago.

I feel as though I can’t fully identify as anything other than cis bc it’s taken me too long to figure out. I also feel like I express myself rather cisgendered as well. Like I am not masc in any way, but also not femme. Just me. Just a ‘girl’ presenting person, even tho I don’t believe I am a girl.

I also feel as though I’ll never be able to talk about my gender to anyone I know bc the second someone doubts me, I’ll just agree and be like, ‘you know what, it doesn’t matter’. Bc I don’t want to make it a big deal and I hate explaining myself.

I also feel like I doubt myself a lot.

I don’t know if any of this makes sense but I just needed to talk about it and your blog is the most safest space!

(Also, introducing myself as the Yellow anon as I’m always ranting and being an anon in your asks)

Hi Yellow!

Let me ask you something: I didn't start questioning my gender until after I graduated college. Does that make me less nonbinary? Did it take me too long to figure it out?

(I'm hoping you'll say no?)

Listen, I totally get that feeling. A lot of times, I feel like I wasted my teens being a 'girl' and trying to fit into the gender binary when I clearly don't.

But the thing is, this is when I figured it out. And this is when you figured it out. It doesn't make you any less of who you are.

As far as the way you present...gender identity and presentation are two different things. It's is completely okay to wear femme clothing and still identify as something other than a girl.

And listen, I get doubting yourself. It's so hard to stay true to yourself and your feelings, especially when people are doubting you. But remember that you are valid and important, and your feelings are real. Keep reminding yourself of that, and I'm here to remind you any time you need it!

<3 <3 <3

[iambic-stan]

The Next Chapter

This is a little story set in the Star Trek universe, though I left out the characters' names.

"What are you reading tonight?" she asks, leaning over in her chair to peek at my padd.  "World Running Down by Al Hess," I tell her.  "A 21st century projection of what our time would be like.  It's not completely wrong, I'll give it that."  She chuckles, then powers down her own padd.  "I think one thing is true for me in any century, though," I say, because I've had my mind on one thing only for the past several hours, and I know her well enough now not to pretend anything different.  "So I'm going to ask you if you have your stethoscope, even though it's literally in the same drawer every time I'm here."  "Instead of just saying that you want me to listen to your heart?" she asks pointedly, her eyes boring into mine, harshly without being unkind somehow.  I chuckle and think to myself that this is the safest place I know out here--with her.  I think about how it has made me feel better time and time again, and yet--she's right--I do hesitate to say what I mean.  I watch in silent anticipation as she turns, pulls the instrument from the drawer, then arranges the earpieces comfortably into her ears.  For a moment, we just gaze at each other, her right hand holding the chestpiece, index finger over the cool bell.  She looks almost picturesque.  When she places the diaphragm on my chest, I feel a surge of emotions, all the most magical kind.  "Hey, you sound crystal clear.  How do you feel?" she asks after a few seconds have passed.  Hearing that question makes me grin from ear to ear.  "I feel so great right now," I tell her.  This little metal circle makes me feel more connected to everything--to her, but to existence as well.  I never have the words to do it justice, but the feeling is divine.

I close my eyes and feel the muscle pulsating--contract and expand, contract and expand, like waves rushing up to shore, out and back again.  It's life and I didn't ask for it but it's beautiful--and she's sharing it with me.  She's listened for a while now; I didn't think she would listen for so long.  My mind wanders further, and I'm young again--no cognizance of the stress of adulthood to come.  It's a warm, buttery Sunday afternoon, and I'm running through a field of tall grass.  Green grasshoppers that camouflage themselves in the blades hop about, and I chase them single-mindedly, only to be able to hold one and admire its alien face until it leaps from my hands.  I circle an oak tree until I find a cluster of tent caterpillars, petting them absent-mindedly.  I have no idea what time it is, and I have no reason to care.  Tomorrow doesn't exist.  "You sound really relaxed," she says, breaking me out of my reverie.  "I'm not used to hearing you fully relaxed.  You're such an anxious person, even when you let go a little...it's usually still there, somewhere."  I shake my head involuntarily.  "Thank you for listening," I say softly.  "Thank you for letting me into your life this way," she says intensely, the expression on her face and her dogged eye contact telling me she really means it, more deeply than when she's said similar things in the past. There was a time when she would always preface or supplement such words with sarcasm.  It's a level of sentimentality that seems unlike her to show, making it all the more precious to witness.  "You probably think you know, but you don't really know what some of my days are like.  I have my constants that I've come to rely on when it's too much.  One of them is you--and knowing that at some point during the week, I get to let it all go for a moment and just listen to the steady beating of your heart," she says in a quiet voice.  I feel so flattered that I'm rendered speechless.  I reach over and hug her tightly, focusing on the feeling of our hearts being so near each other.  "I love you so much!" I exclaim, and it's not until later that I realize I said it so openly and without all the fear and paranoia that lurks in the back of my mind when I use those words.  

I hear the synth and guitar from an old band, Florence + the Machine, and somewhere from the depths of my brain I dredge up the lyrics "I hear the music/I feel the beat/And for a moment/When I'm dancing/I am free," when I position the stethoscope's eartips in my own ears, and watch as she adjusts the neckline of her blouse to accommodate a small but transformative piece of metal.  The difference this little gadget makes defies language, I'm thinking as I gently press it to her skin and all at once, hear about her day, her life, and just her.  I feel so much more connected, instantly and fully, as she smiles. Maybe, I think, it's possible to be dancing while sitting still, as my mind dances in sync with this wondrous muscle. After a few minutes of listening--noticing the rhythm, the variations, a skip or two, and her breath alongside the valve sounds, I hand the stethoscope back to her, saying "thank you" for the hundredth time.  I can't help but say it out loud, even if I'm starting to think it's superfluous.  I'm full and revitalized, ready for the next chapter in my book--or life itself.

[natasha-in-space]

Hi Mia, I know I am an anonymous stranger asking you this so if you'd rather not answer feel free to delete

I wanted to ask, what was it like right after dropping out of college? What did you do afterwards?

It's no problem at all, anon! I've kinda talked about it in my tags from time to time, so it's not something I'm particularly ashamed of. (usually that is)

And, uh.... fair warning, this is gonna get kind of dark and probably a bit depressing. I do occasionally mention my experiences on here in passing, but I tend to not talk about them in depth. So... kind of a CW for talks of past child abuse (I don't go in depth but it's implied) and severe mental health issues.

So, thing is, I was kind of forced to drop out. Though it was still technically my choice. But, at the same time, I don't think I had much of a choice, if that makes sense. As a teen, I hated school, and while I was a what you would call a 'gifted kid', adored by teachers and envied by classmates, I didn't put much effort or passion into my studies. I did finish school with pretty good grades, though. Got into college. It was there when I actually started to enjoy the process of learning and education as a whole. I went from being a pretty good student to quite literally one of the best once I started actually putting in the effort to study instead of just winging it by as I did before that.

But I also started off my independent life when I was in college. It should have been a good thing. And it was a good thing. (You're gonna hear lots of contradicting statements here, and that's something I had to accept). I finally got out of the abusive environment I've spent my entire life in. But, thing is, I learned the hard way that just getting out is not enough to actually get better. Once I was out, finally safe and free to do whatever I want with no danger or restrictions, I paradoxically fell into the darkest mental space I've ever been in. Now that I'm older, I know that it's unfortunately normal for abuse survivors. But I didn't back then. I had no friends because I used to be an anxious, traumatized teenager with undiagnosed autism who had no idea how to socialize, nor did she really want to. And I never got to grow out of that, despite now being an adult, living on my own and making my own choices. Thus, came the consequences of my antisocial lifestyle up until that point. I had no one to talk to. No one to help me out with the groceries, studies, anything really. I was completely and utterly on my own, and before that, I thought that that's the way I want to be.

But I felt lost, lonely, and depressed. It got so bad that I would sometimes spend an entire day stuck in bed, not doing anything, including eating, brushing my teeth or changing clothes. Basically, depression in its clearest. Like I said, I didn't have a support system. I was on my own, and it's kind of my own fault that it got like this. Yes, I was hurt and traumatized, but I was also highly avoidant and distant from everyone, even those who genuinely had good intentions. I still deal with my avoidant attachment style up to this day, because I know it's not healthy.

I had the 'everyone will hurt me, no one will understand me, so I'm safest by myself' mentality. Don't do that. Isolating yourself like that will only make it worse. Had to learn that the hard way.

Long story short, I dropped out. I couldn't handle studying, and I needed help. I wasn't attending my classes, I had no motivation to even make myself food, much less study, and I lost all sense of hope for the future. Was I happy with my choice? No, I was heartbroken over it. I felt like a failure. I still do, honestly. Most people my age have at least one degree, some even more. They have friends and connections they've made in college. Experiences I never got to have, and probably never will, because I am not getting younger. Some have successful careers that I am amazed by. Some married and even had kids. Meanwhile, I'm still stuck figuring myself out, without much to my name. Because I never really got to grow up. It's hard not to feel like I'm missing out. But I try not to think about it.

I went into therapy, I slowly but surely have gotten better. It was a long process. I've stumbled and given up many times. Unpacking all of my trauma and how it effected me into adulthood was debilitating and painful. You have to deal with the fact that you were robbed of the chance to have a normal, happy life, and you can't do anything about it. There was some morbid comfort in thinking that 'there is something wrong with me'. It gave me a sense of control. If it's my fault I felt useless and unmotivated, then I could fix it. Even if I never actually did that. But accepting that all of this misery is actually a consequence of someone else's actions that have hurt you this deeply... it makes you feel helpless and angry. Like there is nothing you can do.

But it does get better. Doesn't get perfect. I still have bad days, and I still feel pretty lost in life, to be honest. I have no idea what I want to do. Nor do I have any plans for the future. But I do want to go to college one day. I love learning and I enjoy challenging my brain with new tasks to try and overcome. I would do that right now, if it wasn't as expensive as it is. I cannot afford higher education. I would risk it and take out a loan if I had confidence that I will be able to get a job and pay it off after getting my degree. But I don't. Because tons of folks with degrees cannot find a job for months on end, and I see how miserable it makes them. And I'd much rather have some stability in my life.

I got a job that I actually find joy in, though I don't think I'll be doing that for the rest of my life. I got a lovely circle of friends that I can rely on. I got a creative hobby there to keep me happy. It's not ideal, but I'm content with my life, and sometimes I'm even happy. I have no idea what the future will bring, but, honestly, I'd much rather focus on today and now.

I guess that's all to say that... dropping out is not always pretty and freeing. Then again, there's a difference between dropping out because you have no further intention to continue your studies, and dropping out due to circumstances out of your control. But it's not the end of the world. You stumble, you fall and you even regress, but you somehow get back up again. You find new things to do and enjoy. Life goes on. And it's still worth living for.

[my-brothers-corrupted]

Deep breaths for a second, yeah? Adrienne's life is not all of yours. And if we are drawing comparisons, Creighton was her Anti. Cedar is her all of you. There was obviously good still in all of you, we saw it every day and still do.

But the comparison isn't going to help anyway. JJ, is there a full plan beyond Adrienne talking to him? Are you waiting outside? Does Cedar realize you're a threat and immediately act on it? Is there any additional preparation you two can take to make sure you're safe and capable of doing this? Cedar's actual actions aside, this is a risky, scary, potentially retraumatizing situation to be in, and no one wants this to come to harm for anybody.

"I'll be staying with Adrienne," JJ says, reviewing the message carefully. "I promised. He needs to realize the take-over is already complete: there's no point to him fighting. She and I have discussed what can be done, but she doesn't feel that speaking with him beforehand will help. They both needed to be free of Creighton. Once he is, she hopes things will be different. But he's very used to being able to tell everyone around him what to do, and I expect him to try it on anyone who helps her - which is why no one has to come."

"The safest thing will be to go with as many people as are willing," says Jackie quietly. "In the end, it was our unity - our numbers - that wore out the last mind-control we fought against. Chase is right, Jack made sure there were plenty of us. I will be staying with JJ... but no one else has to come, just like on the stairs, and there won't be any judgement if you choose to stay behind."

Max puts a hand in the air, and everyone turns to him. "I would not like to face this guy," he says quietly. "I... have heard a lot about Anti's powers from Jackie, and it's upsetting enough. I don't think that I want to know what that actual experience is like. I wouldn't be able to stop thinking about how that... happened to my husband for years."

Everyone nods. Jackie touches his hip. "You can stay down here and keep an eye on Creighton, okay?"

"Okay."

"I want to stay too," says Chase, even quieter. Henrik turns to him, blinking in surprise, and Chase meets his gaze. "I've always felt that I was really susceptible to Anti's powers. My memory has been fucked with enough. And I've been doing really good, lately. I don't feel ready to revisit it."

"I'll be going," says Marvin, a little coldly, and without waiting for anyone, he turns and stalks back down the hall, towards the stairs.

"Schneep?" asks Jackie.

Henrik looks around at everyone, gaze calm, if a little distant. For a second, he looks faraway, lost in something else.

"I was really helpless the day we defeated Anti," he says. "And I don't blame myself for that, of course - I had started fighting first, and that's why Anti punished me so thoroughly. He made sure I couldn't fight, when we reached the end.

"I have heard about how you all got to face those parts of yourself, the ones that he taunted you with, the ugly parts of you. I did not... get that. Or I was spared of it? I don't know anymore.

"The point is that, although I have continued to struggle... I have a healthy body, in most ways, and I am stable for the first time in years. I am... a survivor, as well as a victim. Even if someone was able to control me again, it would not change who I am. It's their action, not my weakness. I want to go with you. I know we will all protect each other even if one of us goes down for a couple minutes. I want a chance to fight, even if it's not Anti, even if it doesn't mean anything either way. I'm ready."

[daylander1000]

I don’t want to say that I disagree with the last anon (I don’t, i want that fluff too 😭) but I think what’s happening is very much in line with what we’ve seen of their relationship before in your fic. As kids, they kind of always verbally kept each other at arms’ length and even at such young ages (which wow. absolutely wild how the world had hurt them so young that walls started coming up at 8 and 9 years old) It’s understandable that at 16-18 they wouldn’t be the most talkative in that regards. I think Aemond’s POV (which their first meeting mostly was in) shows just how deeply insecure he really is, and how he truly held onto Rhaena as the only thing he could’ve ever really relied on to make him feel okay, while Rhaena, while I won’t say she’s completely moved on or anything, has understood and accepted change. To me, they seem like that whole “If I loved you less, i might be able to talk about it more.” or saving all the reverent stares and lovesick smiles for when the other looks away IDK sorry for rambling i just have so many thots

Lolol, no need to apologize. We all want the fluff. Sometimes I'm sitting writing and reminding myself "Hey, come on, keep this fun."

For me, it's not that she's moved on from their friendship but she's moved on from the idea of looking to Aemond (and his mum) to "rescue" her because she's at a point where she fully appreciates the danger and risk of being on the wrong side of her father.

While Aemond was studying the sword, she was getting a 7(?)-year post grad certificate in Daemyra Behavioral Psychology. She's seen firsthand how her mother, Harwin and Laenor's entire lives are disregarded and she doesn't want to be added to the jetsam/flotsam.

Aemond's still someone with a mother, a Criston, a grandfather, a granny dragon, older siblings in line to be the next king and queen... He was hurt and he's aware that he's on the expendable end of the Targ spectrum, but he's still protected in an enmeshed, 'circle the wagons' sort of way.

Rhaena's living the opposite of that enmeshed family dynamic. Estranged sister, dead mother, father was bad to begin with, worse now that he has his dream family, her grandfather is a Luke Stan, so she's in "Sinnerman, where you gonna run to?" mode.

Running to Aemond's wagon circle isn't a great idea cause that's not safe at all. Asking him to leave his wagon circle to ride out for her is 1,000% riskier. Hell, she's not even sure how circling the wagons are supposed to work because she's never had it done for her. She's seeing them do it around Luke tho, positioning hers and Baela's wagons to take the hits, so she's kind of like "fuck wagons in general. I'm going independent."

But of course to Aemond, that's like "Did she just totally reject the safest, most well organized wagon circle in all of Westeros? Is it because of that one single time I weak-linked it? Wtf do I do with this second wagon with your name on it? Sell it, like some kind of wagon-salesman to a pilgrim doing last minute wagon shopping???"

(he's left it a little late in the war game to start making allies and planning a power marriage with another family)

I mean, in the past and at this point, it's more of a proposal for her safety rather than a sign of any undying love, lol. And she's saying, "I'd rather take my chances with a non-prince who doesn't have a dragon who I've never even met before than you" so there's no way not to take that personally when he's out there training with Criston to work past his disability and make something of himself every way he knows how. That's worse than "I don't want to marry you." That's "you're incompetent/you're gonna get me killed/I don't trust you with my life or anything at all."

I actually had a happy reunion chapter written and drafted on AO3 just ready to be published. Real Swan Princess like, but I rewrote the entire thing to add some friction because they were hardly on the same page as children so it made sense for the gap to widen a bit.

Wasted time, but yeah.

I felt this version was a touch on the cruel side but I truly didn't mean it to be. Just wanted to emphasize that she's lost some of that easy friendliness and ability to communicate with people properly after getting out of her Shawshank sentence.

[pesterloglog]

Harry Anderson Egbert, John Egbert

Page 328

HARRY: oh my god, i'm wiped.

HARRY: haven't felt this happy to be plastered to the couch in forever.

JOHN: are you?

JOHN: wow, i feel like i'm barely keeping myself sitting.

JOHN: if it weren't for keeping you kids safe i'd be out there right now!

HARRY: well we did just do a whole lot of running around for no good reason.

HARRY: and some of us aren't gods and shit.

JOHN: i'm detecting a hint of judgement in your voice, there, harry anderson

JOHN: don't you enjoy being a part of all this? finally getting to be in the thick of it all?

HARRY: i mean i was having a fine time at school, if i'm being honest.

HARRY: all this tear-assing back and forth between my home and various points of interest over the past few days has me pretty beat.

HARRY: also i wouldn't call this "the thick of it all"

JOHN: oof, getting air quotes'd by my own son.

JOHN: we had to hide in a forsythia bush on the way back here when that drone flew by!

JOHN: that's the thick of father-son hijinks if i ever saw it!

JOHN: well, modern day war hijinks, but i'll take what i can get, you know??

HARRY: yeah, i guess.

HARRY: i'm not knocking the old adrenaline thrill, or helping out Vrissy's moms or anything.

HARRY: i'm just saying i was literally just here and you told me to leave, so i hope this is where we're gonna park it for a minute.

HARRY: a boy's gotta breathe.

JOHN: yeah, well, this wasn't my plan, either.

JOHN: but rose sent out some false intel about us heading toward my house, so technically this is the safest place we can be right now, since they cleared the area and everything.

JOHN: i guess.

HARRY: hmm.

JOHN: what?

HARRY: now YOU look like you're hiding some extra commentary.

JOHN: oh, i don't need to burden you with all the bureaucratic stuff, it's boring.

HARRY: well now hold up, dad.

HARRY: a minute ago you were all "we're in the fight together," and now you're backing out of sharing the details?

JOHN: it's not really-

HARRY: am i a part of this or not?

JOHN: well i'd sure say you were!

JOHN: but i guess maybe my thoughts on what is or isn't right for the operation aren't up to snuff.

JOHN: because here i am, sitting in the dugout, same as you.

HARRY: in the dugout?

JOHN: oh, or, uh...

JOHN: what's a metaphor you might like better...

HARRY: no,

JOHN: i'm like the uhh...understudy.

HARRY: dad. no, jesus, you don't have to do this.

JOHN: or i got cast in as babysitter number 2 when i had auditioned for, i dunno,

HARRY: yeah, please, i got the baseball metaphor.

HARRY: i'm not a complete fucking nerd.

JOHN: oh i see.

HARRY: i was just like acknowledging that we've been sidelined, here.

HARRY: not that i mind, personally, since like i said i am super stoked to be relaxin on the couch and not fighting a war.

HARRY: plus i wouldn’t have been able to get your measurements for some clothes that actually fit you if we hadn’t come back here where all my sewing stuff is.

HARRY: but it seemed like you, uh.

HARRY: you were getting pretty into everything back there with rose and them? getting to be with the old crew and everything, like the stories you told me about the game?

JOHN: yeah.

HARRY: that sucks.

JOHN: i had a good plan, too!

JOHN: it just wasn't good enough for karkat, i guess.

JOHN: i'm just not "experienced enough in combat strategy"

HARRY: oh now you're throwing the air quotes back at me?

JOHN: no, those are for karkat!

HARRY: oh ok then, fair game.

JOHN: look at us, bantering away.

JOHN: that is a plus of being here, at least.

JOHN: it's been really nice to get to spend so much time with you.

HARRY: um. yeah, it's not so bad.

HARRY: anyway, before you ruffle my hair or anything, it looks like things are getting a bit heated between the vriskas over there.

HARRY: maybe we should offer them a snack to bring the mood back down?

JOHN: me, mess up your hair when you’ve worked so hard on that look? i do know you at least that well, harry anderson

HARRY: thank god.

[arkin-oconnell]

👀👀👀

What’s your biggest fear?

Where do you feel the safest?

What’s your favorite childhood memory?

Is there anything you would change about your childhood?

1: " Hurting the people I care about the most. I haven't done a great job of avoiding that lately, but I'm trying to make up for it.

2: "When I'm not myself. When I was acting"

3: " Probably when Eden was born. I have a lot of shitty childhood memories. Most of them sucked but becoming a big brother was kind of the best moment. I was really naïve to how much I was going to mess up.

4: "Everything. Make sure my dad running off didn't completely implode the rest of us. Make sure my mom got help earlier. "

@edenxoconnell

[bradleysbradshaws]

I genuinely did not understand what it was like to be actually insane until what happened to me here in Roosmav. I have to talk about it because it is what defines everything for me now: I am the "formerly-insane bottom!Bradley-hater-of-all-time-turned-Rooster-Pussyfreak."

What I felt and did last year was insanity. I was relieved to have the confirmation once and for all that people really did feel uncomfortable around me...all I've been reflecting on this year was what I didn't even understand was going on inside of my own head, and I wasn't sure how much of it translated outside of it, but I'm glad to know that the fucked-up things in my mind did translate to how I came off to people. And I genuinely, genuinely could not recognize it.

I do remember this...I do remember feeling so paranoid at the end, being unable to discern from between reality and fiction. I believed that every bottom!Bradley work (including the ones I find the hottest to re-read now) was Maverick being predatory and hurting Bradley. Every work, not just the underage ones, but every one, including the asshole-shaving fic, where Maverick was just loving an adult Bradley. Even Lake's thigh-fucking fic, I felt terrorized by (I had it blacklisted for months).

I didn't tell her this, but @alakeeffectgirl was one of the people who I felt threatened by because something as simple as her liking a bottom!Bradley post I thought was her condoning some sort of violence. When I came to her asking her to do something for me in the beginning of this year, I wasn't asking a friend this - I was asking someone who I had barely talked to, who I viewed mostly as an antagonist. But she has been with me through this whole year, she knows how hard I've tried and how much I have changed and grown, and she knows how bottom!Bradley is the topic I have spoken most enthusiastically and excitedly about...so I genuinely was completely out of my mind last year.

I do look forward to being able to tell people everything. I know people view me with enough suspicion...that I must have done something terrible enough to be in my position. But that really was what happened - I legitimately went insane projecting outside ongoing personal stresses into a fun fictional space. I do have a bottom!Bradley preference now, but I clung so hard to bottom!Mav - not because I found it hottest, but because I found it safest. That was why I kept saying MommyMav was my "comfort genre" - I've read the way people speak about MommyMav on twitter, and they view it as some tee-hee-hee-kinky-perversion, but I never did. I thought that MommyMav was safety, which was why I clung to it. My true preference really is fucking the tall beautiful man from Top Gun: Maverick to the floor - it's all I've been able to write about myself, and it's all I've thought about with personal enthusiasm this year.

I am a story of mental illness. I will be defined by this forever, I am going to be locked out of being able to do something I love forever for it. But I want people to know why - that I didn't do anything I did with any sort of a working mind, that I'm so sorry for how I made people feel, and to please...if there is any chance, to try to get to know me as the person who I am now.

I love Roosmav, but I know I am dead in this fandom. I had these dreams of being able to work with people on things, but I know they won't...they won't because they won't be able to link those things on the Roosmav server, no matter how well-intended, because it is something that involves me. I wanted to illustrate a visual novel for them...I am an artist, and all I ever wanted to do was draw for Roosmav - draw things no one else has before, and I don't think anyone ever will...but because I am drawing it, no one will give it a chance.

If I was happy to just sit back and enjoy the fruits of others' labor, I wouldn't be so distraught now. But the truth is that I want to do more for Roosmav...but because I am me, and any work that I create is tainted, is blacklisted by the majority of the fandom...I can't.