#it's so weird and confusing and its Right

[fratttymatty]

The Card That Changed Everything

(All characters are 18+)

Elliot Novak had always been the quintessential "nerd" in high school. At 18, he was just a few weeks away from graduating, a proud member of the debate team, the editor of the school newspaper, and a staunch liberal in a town that was a bit more on the conservative side. With thick-rimmed glasses perched on his nose and a backpack full of books slung over one shoulder, he had always felt a little out of place. His friends, a small but close-knit group of fellow "outsiders," often joked that if the high school hierarchy were a pyramid, he’d be firmly planted at the bottom, right next to the chess club.

Elliot had been expecting a quiet, uneventful Friday night. But when his best friend, Max, invited him over for a game night, he reluctantly agreed. It was nothing too out of the ordinary—just a few games of Uno and maybe some pizza. What he didn’t expect was that this seemingly innocent night would change his life forever.

It started innocently enough. The group—Max, his girlfriend Lily, and Sarah from the drama club—sat around Max’s living room, laughing and talking as they shuffled the colorful cards. The first few rounds of Uno passed without incident. Elliot was his usual self: sarcastic, quick-witted, and, as always, a little too passionate about winning.

Then came the final game of the night. For some reason, the cards seemed to fall differently. He felt a strange energy in the room, a kind of buzz that seemed to hum in his ears. It was Max who had drawn the last card, and as he placed it down, there was a sudden flash of light, so brief that no one noticed—except Elliot.

The world seemed to tilt.

He blinked, disoriented, trying to shake the odd feeling of vertigo. The room appeared the same, but everything felt… different. He looked down at his hands, which were suddenly larger, more muscular, the knuckles rougher. His clothes felt tighter, almost too tight. As if on instinct, he reached up to adjust his glasses, but they weren’t there.

“What the hell?” he muttered, his voice coming out deeper, rougher than usual.

Max, still grinning from winning the last round, glanced over. “You okay, man?”

Elliot’s heart started to race as he realized something was wrong. He glanced at the mirror across the room, and for a moment, he barely recognized the reflection staring back at him. His once lean, skinny body had transformed into something broader, more defined—his arms, his chest, his jawline—all of it seemed so different. His short, curly brown hair was now dark and tousled in thick, messy curls, and his face, still familiar in shape, had lost its nerdy softness, replaced by the sharp angles of a confident, athletic young man.

He was no longer the bookish Elliot Novak. In the mirror, staring back at him, was someone new.

“Max, I don’t… I don’t think I’m okay,” Elliot’s—no, his new voice—sounded unfamiliar, confident in a way it had never been before.

“Dude, you’re acting weird. What’s wrong?” Max asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“I… I feel different,” Elliot murmured. But as he spoke, he didn’t feel the anxiety or the usual sense of out-of-place-ness he had grown accustomed to. Instead, there was something else—a surge of confidence, a sense of power. A feeling of certainty.

He was no longer Elliot Novak. He was Ethan Cole.

Ethan ran his fingers through his new head of tousled, dark brown curls, noticing how it felt different, more natural than his old look ever had. He straightened his back, feeling the strength in his spine, the ease of standing tall. He had always been awkward about his body, but now it was as if he had been molded into something new, something purposeful.

Max looked him up and down, his eyes widening. “Holy crap, Elliot, what the hell happened to you?”

The name Elliot felt wrong in Ethan's mouth. "It’s Ethan, man. You know, like… the name that suits me," he said with an easy smirk, not understanding why he was suddenly so at ease with himself. A new sense of self-assurance flooded his veins, and he felt an overwhelming desire to flex his muscles, to show off this newfound strength.

"You're acting weird," Max muttered, unsure what to make of this transformation. But Ethan was already adjusting to his new life.

He looked at the game of Uno, now discarded on the floor, and the realization hit him. It was the game, the card. It had changed everything, even his very identity. But rather than panic, he felt a strange sense of… relief.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized he didn't miss being the old Elliot. Being Ethan felt right. His thoughts began to align with his new persona—no more arguing about social justice issues, no more complicated liberal viewpoints. No, now he saw things clearly. The world was about competition, dominance, and personal achievement. It made sense. Everything made sense.

And the people around him? They weren’t so different from him anymore. He gave Max a friendly clap on the back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, bro. But we should hit the gym sometime, huh?”

Max blinked in surprise. “Uh… sure, man. That actually sounds good.”

But something in Max had shifted too. His posture straightened, his eyes narrowed with sudden focus, and an unexpected grin spread across his face. “Yeah, you’re right. I could use a solid workout. We should start lifting.”

As if by magic, Max’s transformation mirrored Ethan’s. His body began to tighten and firm up, his once lean frame now more muscular, shoulders broader, chest more defined. His hair, always scruffy, seemed to grow thicker, more styled—almost like it had a purpose now. He gave Ethan a playful shove. “Maybe I’ll even beat you at this gym thing.”

Ethan grinned. “You can try.”

The two exchanged a knowing look, as if they were already bonding over something bigger than just physical strength. It was a new world, one where power and confidence ruled. For Ethan, it felt like a natural fit.

As the evening wore on, Ethan felt something else—something different in the air. Kassie, Max’s girlfriend, had been sitting on the couch, watching their interactions. She was the type of girl who didn’t usually give Ethan much attention. But now, there was something new about him—something magnetic, something that drew her in.

She looked him up and down, her eyes lingering on his broad shoulders and the way his new curls framed his face. She smiled slowly. “Ethan, right? I’ve gotta say, you’re looking good.”

Ethan felt his chest puff with pride. “Thanks, Kassie. You’re not so bad yourself.”

She laughed lightly, a flirtatious edge to her tone. “How about we grab a coffee sometime? You and me?”

Ethan smirked, feeling the newfound confidence flood his veins. “Sounds like a date.”

By the end of the night, Ethan had fully embraced his new life. He wasn’t just a jock in body; he was a jock in spirit. His new persona felt like home. Kassie was his girlfriend now, Max was a jock too, and together they would rule the school.

The old Elliot, with his liberal ideals, his anxiousness, his nerdy quirks—was nothing more than a distant memory.

Ethan Cole was here to stay.

[artdcnaldson]

PATRICK buying ART TOYS!!!! buying him a VIBRATING COCK RING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! MAKES him let him WATCH!!!!!!!! HE BOUGHT IT AFTER ALL……. ITS ONLY POLITE………….. sigh

-🩰

ok... yeah... sorry for the delay pookie wookie i hope you forgive me <3

But yeah <3 Patrick loves buying Art toys after he buys him the fleshlight <3 Loves thinking about how he contributes to Art's corruption with each little black bag he drops onto his bed.

But it's a joke! Of course it's a joke. It's a joke to watch Art splutter nervously and whine and beg Patrick to quit messing around when he pulls out whatever it is this week. It doesn't feel like a joke when Art pulls out a stroker toy or a bullet vibe and holds it in his big, lithe hands and Patrick feels his cock twitch just at the sight. Sometimes it really is a joke. A blow up doll, a ball gag (okay, that one was half a joke).

He gets back to their dorm first, almost twitching with anticipation as he waits for Art to get back and open up the bag Patrick left on his bed. It's after a late night at the gym (in which Patrick did not partake), so when Art gets back he's a little damp from his shower, flushed with exhaustion. And that blush only deepens when he sees the bag.

"How do you have the money to buy all this shit?" Art grumbles as he approaches the bed. "I could call your mom and get your card cancelled if she even knew the half of w—"

He goes quiet when he pulls out the package— thick plastic encasing a device he doesn't even know where to start with. He swallows, squints at it, tries to ignore the way his cock kicks with interest. "What is it?"

Patrick's mouth feels dry. "It's a, uh, it's a cock ring," he stammers, uncharacteristically affected by Art's obvious innocence.

"I thought they'd be different," Art says. But he's still holding it, Patrick notes. He hasn't dropped it and tried to pretend he wasn't interested. That was Art's way of doing things— pretend he wasn't into it until he was alone and could be a little degenerate in private. "Looks confusing."

"It's not," Patrick says. "I could show you."

He expects Art to scoff, to call him some name, to flip him off and change the subject. But he watches the bob of Art's adam's apple, meets his gaze. "Only if it isn't weird."

It's weird. They both know it's weird. Art's cock is nearly at half-mast, but Patrick still manages to fit the silicon ring around him, all the way down to his base.

Art whines, chest heaving, eyes lust-blown. "That's— ngh— tight. It's tight."

"It's s'posed to be," Patrick says, peering up at him from between his thighs. He adjusts it, so the attached vibrator rests at his perinium, a place Art hardly even thinks about, and now there's a firm pressure that makes heat build in his tummy, and Patrick presses a button and--

"Agh!—" He nearly doubles over when it starts vibrating, the muscles in his thighs trembling as the sensations overwhelm him. "Oh, oh fuck, Pat— ngh— Oh my god, that's— fuckfuckfuck— I can't— can't—"

Any other time, he would've blown his load early— cum buckets all over his lap and tummy. Instead, the snug ring at his base keeps him hard, and aching, and wanting. Right on the edge of release. His hips buck and his cock bobs, flushed an angry, needy red.

Patrick grins as Art clumsily pumps lotion into his hand and begins stroking his cock with fast, desperate movements. He's never seen Art this turned on... for this long. He's so used to seeing Art needy and cumming hard and fast.

This is new, it's delicious. "You're lasting pretty long, Art," Patrick teases, like he isn't rock hard in his sweats. "You should wear this more often."

"Shut— ngh— up—" Art whines, bucking into his fist. "Feels so— god— so good, it's— god, you've gotta try it—"

And Patrick will. God, he will. But he wants to watch Art use it a dozen more times before that happens.

It isn't long before Art can't hold back anymore. When he cries out with the most guttural, desperate moan Patrick's ever heard from him as he shoots ropes onto his shirt. He squirms and nearly cries with overstimulation until Patrick turns off the vibrator.

He's panting, breathing hard like he's just run a marathon. Red faced and laughing wryly. "You're evil. Stop buying me shit."

Patrick just grins back. He's not going to stop. He's going to ruin Art Donaldson for everyone else.

[do-you-have-a-flag]

text of the above screenshots:

Some further clarification about things people were asking in the comments.

Tina spoke fluent English without an accent. She's either native or has been speaking it since very young.

We'd also spoken early that morning when she arrived, over the phone (woke me up where I was sleeping upstairs, but whatever, I'd rather too much communication than too little), because she wanted to clarify about the squash. She specifically acknowledged the concept of squash, and asked if it was near the kale she was seeing. I said that sounded right, and that it should be labeled. She said okay. I reminded her that if she couldn't find it, to ask my roommate for help.

The rats were on the top shelf of our freezer-top fridge so that you'd have to be leaning down to even see it, and no kale would be in its vicinity. Three people live in this house, so it's always full. Lots of options if you're gonna go rogue.

She didn't know I had snakes, unless she'd seen them in their bins in the living room, which is possible (it looks like a filling cabinet with clear plastic drawers and sometimes they come to the front). They're very quiet pets and don't even count with my landlord, so sometimes I forget to mention them when people ask about pets, as they usually are asking due to allergy concerns. So when the agency asked, I was focused on our cats. They know now, of course. But Tina had no reason to think she should be preparing a pet's meal. That was never established as something among her duties when I met with her and an agency nurse the day before to go over everything.

Also, snakes can't eat cooked meat, even if it's safely prepared. It will make them sick. So they could not still be used.

The discovery: storytime

If you want to see video evidence: investigation

UPDATE (added here since the sub automod was being weird):

Apologies for the late update. As I’m sure you can imagine, the last week was exhausting.

This is just to give what closure I can and go over how my last conversation with Tina went, the day after the incident.

When I was on my way to the cafe to escape the house last Tuesday, she actually texted me with an apology, saying “I’m so sorry, I feel so stupid and bad, this never happened before,” and offering to pay me back for the rats and the dish as I had mentioned the rats were expensive. Which is honestly more than I was expecting, but, “never happened before?” Well I sure fucking hope so! Though that begs the question, why now? Why me? I don’t know if there’s a good answer.

We agreed that she could come by the next day in the evening with the money ($15 for the rats, $30 for the dish). She declined doing Venmo or something similar. Possibly didn’t know how to use things like that, since I estimate by her comment of her grandson being my age, she had to be at minimum in her late 60s, probably older. I admit I was hesitant to have her return to the scene of the crime when it was still so unclear what her motivations had truly been, but I wouldn’t be home alone, and she had seemed sincerely contrite, if a bit defensive over the degree of my outrage.

Before the appointed time, she called me to tell me she was on her way, and then made, of all things, a request of me. She would be bringing by her time sheet, and could I sign for the two days she’d been there? I was baffled. The audacity of asking me a favor when our meeting was about her making amends, claiming that her time with me should count as doing her job, AND implying that her paying me back was to get something from me. Maybe that was why she wanted to do cash?

But at this point, I just wanted the whole thing over and done with, and it’s not like I was the one who’d be paying her, just my insurance. It was also confusing because…did that mean that she was still employed?? Surely if she’d been fired, she’d be less willing to play nice with me, would probably be blaming me more for how it affected her. At the very least, she seemed like the kind of person who would bring it up to make me feel a little bad. But maybe she wouldn’t, I don’t know. It was also strange because out of the three (now four) HHAs I’ve had at two different companies, none have ever asked me to sign a timesheet for them. Maybe some of y’all more familiar with the inner workings of these companies can shed some light here.

I was nervous when she showed up. There's something about seeing someone do something so truly unhinged that shatters the basic trust that this fellow human won’t do something else crazy, maybe something more harmful than running one out of the house. So I checked her hands through the window before I opened the door. She had two plastic bags half-full and bundled up to hide their contents under each arm. Strange choice for a weapon, so I chose faith.

There was no more apology upon greeting, she mostly just seemed in a hurry, civil but brusque, like she wanted this behind her as much as I did. While she was rummaging, I asked how she’d disposed of the dish (the follow-up to I made a video about linked in the original post if you want to see, you sickos). And as expected, the first thing she brought out was her timesheet. Sure enough, there was a place for patient signature, and as I took it and the proffered pen and set it against the doorframe to sign, I said, “We said $45, right?” just to confirm.

The look she gave me as she reached into her jacket was SO offended, and her civility evaporated. Like I was questioning her word, and how dare I. “I’m gonna pay you, I said I would.” Calm down, paranoid, was the tone.

It took all my self-control not to respond with, “You also said you’d cook the squash.” Like, yeah, lady, wonder why I would want to triple check anything we agreed to at this point. My bad.

But she did in fact hand me the wad of bills (after I’d handed back the timesheet and she’d checked it), and then she left in a bit of a huff. I just told her to take care of herself to her back.

At this point, after interacting with her again, I am of the opinion that this was simply from some form of psychosis, either a mental health thing or senility, I don’t know. Even talking to her, things were just a little off. Hard to describe, but it was like part of her attention was always somewhere else. I do not believe this was malicious or “weaponized incompetence” as many were saying in the Tik Tok comments. She had nothing to gain from this, and clearly she wants to keep her job. At this point, after the shock and horror has worn off, I just feel kind of bad for her. She clearly shouldn’t be in this profession (which, btw, she said she’s been in for thirty years??), so I more blame these companies for not being more thorough in their hiring and training process. Psych evals should be par for the course, surely.

And I know I probably shouldn’t have, it’s none of my business, but it was eating at my conscience to not express my concern. Because I don’t know what’s going on in her life. When it comes to things like reality breaks and changes in behavior, it can be really hard to see for ourselves, and maybe the people in her life aren’t saying anything, and so she’s not seeking the help she needs. So I texted her a little while after she left.

I thanked her for taking responsibility, acknowledged I was butting in, and then brought up how she said this had never happened before and how she’d seemed confused about how it happened. And that if this was a new kind of thing or there’d been other weird things happening, it might be a good idea to talk to a doctor, just in case something else is going on that needs to be addressed, as gently and non-judgmentally as I could think to say. And I ended it with “But if I’m way off base and out of line, and you’re just used to people eating like that, I apologize and wish you the best.” After a day of silence, she sent two texts, copied here:

“K thank you people make mistakes”

“God bless have a good day”

That was and I’m sure will remain the last I heard from her. I’m sorry I can’t recount some detailed confession about how it had all been a nefarious plot by some vengeful ex who’d had their aunt impersonate an aide to poison me. That would have made for a much more satisfying story.

As for my current aide situation, I’m still working with the replacement they sent to me, but have already requested a new one. She’s sane and competent, but alas, it would seem she much exaggerated her English fluency to my coordinator (who sounded resigned to such a deceit). In any other service context, I wouldn’t care, we have translator apps, but I think we’ve seen how critical clear and easy communication can be when one person is relying on another to meet their needs while sick. Others have told me how long it can take to find a good fit, so I guess I’ll just have to keep spinning the revolving door until I do.

Also, I have put in a request for the agency to reimburse me the takeout I had to get myself that day. And the oven has been cleaned and sanitized to within an inch of its life and seems okay now? I dunno, asking for a replacement or suing anyone seems like a lot of hassle (especially when I already have a medical malpractice case in the works).

Thank you to everyone for taking an interest in my harrowing experience and for your support. It legitimately turned this into something more light hearted that I can laugh at now, where it would have remained traumatic otherwise.

May your squash always be squash.

§ § ----==---- [🐀🐀🐀]

Text recounting of the full events below but oh my god please watch this person explain the wildest thing happening to them

[image text]r/trueoffmychest post by CptnSpaceCase

Today my aide cooked what should not be cooked

I have to get this out, because today feels like an actual nightmare I keep expecting to wake up from.

I'm disabled, and need help with stuff around the house. Today was the second day with a new agency and new home health aide, "Tina." I set it up so she would come by in the morning while I'm sleeping (insomnia is killer), and I texted her last night what I would need done today.

One of those things was to roast some precut squash I'd gotten so I could have it with my salads and pasta. I was very clear in my instructions: what it looked like, where it was in the fridge, how to use the oven, how to cook it. I also have a roommate who was up and told her she could ask them for help if she couldn't find anything. Or come get me if truly necessary.

Now, I have three pet ball pythons. They eat rats that I thaw from frozen in the fridge in a reusable plastic bag. Yes, that's where I'm going with this.

Tina couldn't find the squash, and so, obviously, that meant she should roast the first other thing she could see that was technically also encased in plastic, in a completely different area of the fridge. The FUCKING RATS. In butter and salt, in my nice baking dish.

And like, that's insane all on its own, but if you're going to cook any animal, you should at least clean and skin it first, right??? Like, do the crazy, disgusting thing properly so I can respect the effort, instead of sticking them in as is. Fur and guts and all.

And the smell. Good God baby Jesus the SMELL. It woke me up and had me gagging the moment I opened my bedroom door. Definitely not squash. Or food-smelling for that matter. At first I thought the squash had spontaneously rotted overnight and she'd tried to cook it anyway. That would have been slightly less insane and much preferable.

I had to pull it out of her what she was cooking instead when she said she couldn't find it (it was in plain sight), had to open the oven and see my snakes' dinners in place of my own and still couldn't process what the fuck was happening, what I was looking at and smelling. I don't like yelling at people and generally avoid it. Today was a day for exceptions. And at the end of my half-crazed, dissociative rant, I told her to get the whole dish and its contents and herself out of the fucking house. And to not come back.

Suffice to say, I've contacted the agency to report it and am requesting a new aide. Now I'm sitting at a cafe trying to calm down and eat something despite the scent memory that's taken up permanent residence and turning my stomach. The whole house reeks like musty, sewage-dipped pork that had been left out for a whole day before being cooked in rancid oil, and I'm not sure Febreeze is gonna cut it. I don't want to go home. 🫠😭

[yaseraphine]

RANT ABOUT THERAPY AND WHY IT'S NOT MY CUP OF TEA 🤡

+ trying to guess the therapist's rising and our synastry and ranting about it cause I am tired man (and too sensitive lol)

Really messy post btw just a disclaimer lol

Just had my first therapist appointment since 2021 and what can I say....it was REALLY awkward. I don't know how people are able to spill their deepest traumas like that bro she just sat down and told me to talk 💀 like what I thought she would interview me or start the first appointment with pre-made questions to make a profile, regarding my background, family relationships,etc .. It was really messy and I was so confused throughout the whole thing.

I understand it's a privilege to afford therapy (it was 60euros for 45 minutes lol of course it is) but it is much more complex than just spilling your guts to a random with a degree.

Something about me is that I always thought i didn't really need therapy, no matter how painful a situation was for me. And it wasn't only therapy, it was also opening up to my own friends 💀 i could take care of myself like i always did anyways so whats the point of paying for it ? I understood people who needed it and felt helped by it. But it just wasn't for me. I have realizations on my own consistantly thanks to my self-awareness and trained and developped intuition.

What pushed me to go back to therapy even though i was , and still am, very skeptical in its effectiveness on me, is that this year, I realized asking for help won't actually kill me and that i have my limits as a human being.

I fear this appointment just unfortunately kind of validated my initial more negative feelings towards therapy and the idea that I don't really need it.

As a really introspective and painfully self-aware person who has a hard time asking for help (but is actively working on it), I really don't know what kind of therapy could help me, really. I know I probably have a few blind spots, but it's so out of my comfort zone to open up like that. I kind of hate it.

I want to keep an open mind, and probably try another therapist but damn if I don't f*ck with any, it just feels forced .. I trust divine timing for that because I don't really want to put myself in such a situation again.

Right now, I feel dirty knowing a random woman knows about my deepest traumas in a really messy and all over the place way. She has fragments of my soul, and despite me having somewhat giving my consent for it, it was too fast. Maybe it's my 8th house moon conjunct Lilith (1181) in Leo that is speaking but I feel literally violated. Strong words but this how uncomfortable it was for me.

Guessing the therapist's rising sign and ranting about 12th house synastry...

Random but I think the therapist in question had a Virgo or Leo rising... I already said it's the most common rising signs (especially virgo) and I am losing patience. We probably had a 12th house synastry that's why our exchange was really weird and scattered. She kept on making weird faces while I was talking telling me she didn't understand what I was trying to say.... I know it all too well because EVERY single person I knew or had interacted with that had a leo rising, my interactions with them were like this. I was saying stuff and it felt like it went in one ear and got out in the other. Like they could hear me but not listen and understand what i was trying to say. This kind of reminds me of Willy Wonka's relationship with Mike TV or wth his name is, in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory Tim Burton's movie. Wonka always said stuff to him whenever he opened his mouth like "I cannot hear a single thing you say because you're speaking gibberish"or whatever. (Me being Mike TV and Leo risings being Willy Wonka).

This is how every single one of my interactions with Leo risings went, no matter their gender or age. It was always like that.

[miguel-owhora]

i hear your twin dick monster! reader x micah but may i propose monster! reader with a cluster of tentacles for a cock.. all with minds of their own, too. and some ovipos at the end for flavor.. sorry if this is too much !!

starting with some oral, he would be so cute all confused at what hes looking at, wondering what hes supposed to be doing. a mess of squirming tentacles at your crotch, more than ten, at least. they all act as if theyre their own creatures separate from you, moving and tangling amd tying themselves into knots. when micah is brought in closer to them, they all reach out for him, curious. hed probably be so unsettled.... looking up at you with wide blue eyes for a brief moment, wondering if youre actually about to make him do this, before he realizes he just needs to be a man.

hes so weirded out.. when he tries to lick at one, they suddenly grab his face, pulling him right up against them. they begin to slither over and explore his face. the next time he tries to open his mouth, one is forcing its way inside, exploring around his mouth, then down his throat. its hard not to gag, but hes a strong boy. a survivor.

his face gets fucked like that for a long time, the tentacles preventing him from pulling away, and slowly beginning to explore his mouth more and more. more would keep squeezing in, forcing his mouth open wide enough to strain his jaws. they cram into him until no more can fit. micahs eyes are rolled back all pretty, i bet hes even starting to cry. you pull out and move lower.

when you press yourself against micahs pussy, all the tentacles are desperate to get inside him. they squirm and stroke at his cock and dip between his folds trying to find their place. you can hold him down and barely even have to do any work as each tip eventually finds a hole to sit inside. hes trying to kick and get away from you, but you just place your hands on his shoulders and move him right back into place, below you.

they push in first as a cluster, then individually, one at a time when there arent as many out of him anymore. once every tentacle is inside him, theyre squirming and exploring, never falling still. theyre pressing against his walls and grazing against his cervix with blind curiosity. when you start actually thrusting, moving them all as one unit, theyre still moving on their own then, too. sometimes one will slip out and get lost amongst his tcock and folds, i bet some penetrate his ass at some point.

and micah is an absolute mess. youre bigger, and stronger, and have like 15 small dicks fucking him at once while also teasing at his ass and dick while still doing so much inside of him..... he hates to admit its the heaven that it is, so brainless and pleased that he can hardly even think anymore. hes devolved to a constant low groan thats only broken by your thrusts, any hopes of being smart enough to say anything intelligible having been fucked out of him quick.

he breaks so hard, in fact, that by the time youre orgasming inside him, you dont even realize that youve started filling him with eggs, and hes euphoric about it. small yet gooey, theyre maybe the size of a golf ball. one after the other fills him up, as much as he can take. even after you pull out, his belly has a beautiful bump in it. hes left flushed and panting like nothing more than a dog by the end, the feeling of being full keeping his fucked out brain from letting him think at all still.

he doesnt stop you, not even that he could, when you impulsively reach out to press down on the bump, and start forcing eggs out of him, each one stretching his sore, abused hole and making him gasp and twitch again. hes already cum on your dicks countless times, but the overwhelming feeling of each egg pushing out forces him over the edge one last time. hes silent, for once in his goddamn life, as a silent scream strains his chords.

its only all over once hes feeling horribly empty, his cunt still left twitching and spasming in the wake of you breaking him in. maybe hes even begging to be full again, pleading that not thinking was so nice for a bit there. and of course you oblige him, hes come so far from his usual state and hes being so cute that he deserves it, even. next time around he can keep the eggs in him and be your brainless little pet thats too fillednup to think for himself, and you can pride yourself on bringing the micah bell the third to that point.

grr... why didn't i think of this

[tanadrin]

Well that's both the beauty and the frustrating thing with a multiple-party system, right? Even if a party is in the governing coalition, it's a coalition, so their more radical ideas get smoothed out by compromise. Slows things down, which can be good or bad. I've lived in germany all my life and know I'll never get any party's pure program as government policy, so I choose based on who is likely to win and what effect different parties' ideas are likely to have in the positions theyre likely to end up in. I don't think that is considered particularly weird here, actually.

And yes, to your other question, a lot of people I know who take a similar approach do split their votes and vote e.g. SPD for the direct mandate if that's more likely to win, and green or left on the proportional vote.

Hope this doesn't come across as confrontational - i'm not trying to debate. I find the different perspectives on voting interesting and wonder if it's related to being used to a 2-party "winner takes all" system vs a multi-party system, or if my sample in germany is just not representative (i.e. mostly people who are above-average informed about politics)

But even if a party isn’t going to get its full policy program enacted, to get *any* policy program enacted it has to get into government—which requires winning enough votes that it’s not likely to be relegated to the opposition.

Now, Die Linke also has this problem where a big party like the SPD regards them as anathema and would rather ally with the CDU or the FDP than bring Die Linke into government (which is stupid, IMO), and Die Linke voters can’t really change that. But I still would prefer the party I vote for to be part of government rather than remain in opposition, you know? The idea you would vote for a party so that it could just participate in debates and not actually govern is the thing I was reacting to.

(I have lived my entire adult life in countries with proportional representation; I get how it works! Please don’t think I’m some confused American hick who’s just too puzzled by the complexities of your sophisticated MMP system to appreciate its nuances. The objection I have is that I think politics ought to be treated as a means to power, not an instrument of individual self-expression. Politics is for Doing Stuff, as it were, not achieving a personal feeling of vindication. Plenty of Americans and Germans both treat it as the latter, and I disagree with all of them.)

[pinterestsucksnow2024]

I had surgery right before rebloging that and am just now checking the activity on my blog and man... this was a trip.

I stand by my statment that Amnesia Guy With Confusing Phone is a good character as evident of how long it too me to figure out what someones response ment post anesthesia.

To answer the question, and for anyone who needs Ideas...

My phone has some of these from like... 2012 and I still barely remeber who goes with what:

That Guy (with a picture of Chrona from Soul Eater because That Guy was an entity who confused and frustrated me despite being one of my best friends) - jokes on us... I somehow assigned a nonbinary character to my friend who did not yet know she was trans. It took 10 years and its still hilarious.

Jonathan Frakes

John (and its just a picture of the band The Police) - I THINK this was a sound guy I did a gig with and I have way too many Johns in my phone.

Jeff - but I know it's my friend Stewart. I dont even get the joke anymore.

Kaylee - I THINK is a girl named Marie who I grew up. Idk who else would have earned that vibe. (Firefly reference)

Koala

Mal Reynalds - My cousin with a very proffessional picture

Naruto, Goku

My own FATHER is in my phone as a Terminator Reference:

Reese, Tech-Com

I have a scam call(?) Marked as "Who is calling and why are they calling?" With a stormtrooper for the icon. That alone would be fantastic for a story about amnesia if you had like... a secret agent plot with a normal guy.

So... to give an example of realism: I still get very confused by Jeff. That is NOT remotely that guys name. I know the other references in my phone but I obviously did not name Jeff. I only know it's Stewart because I know what our conversations look like.

I have no clue which of the 6 Jonathan's in my life got assigned a star trek reference. I probably need to clean that one out of my phone because IDK who that is. Same with John. I have a VAUGE memory of doing the Police as the picture because Sound Guy but even that is a weird association because there is no guy named John in that band.

Imagine not remebering things and having a situation requiring you to contact some rando in a phone and trying to figure out where Stewart is and it be under a guy named Jeff.

Another very real example is if someone else has to use said phone. I used to have BOTH parents under goofy names. My mom was something like "Zordon" from power rangers. Then I added her to my emergecy list so it was ICE Zordon.

Imagine someone having an emergency on the street and having to figure out who the heck ICE Zordon is and praying you have the right emergency contact and not some weird hotline.

Feel like I should add that this was on the list of "dumb shit I did from ages 13-18 that still haunts me" as a warning to anyone who would otherwise have a Skibidi Toliet where my phone at one point definitely had garys mod references. It wasn't until I had to sort out the Too Many Johns that I realized basic naming is actually worth it.

As for organization... yesnt. My phone is kind of a precarious record of eras and phases. My friends were named based on whichever character they were assigned when we went through a phase together. Kaylee, for example- Marie was a bubbly creative person who reminded me of the character from Firefly. I didnt anticipate adulthood pushing away that whimsy once I had work contacts and business dealings. I thought I would change it eventually, but over a decade later I still squint and try to jar the memory loose. That Guy brings back an instant memory of the smell of the courtyard on the first day of school when we were highschoolers playing Ninja and reading whatever successor to Warrior Cats.

I dont remeber or organize. Its all association. Method of Loci locked away in natural memory as senses and smells and visions of events.

Even with names, some of them dont mean anything. I think Zera was the name of someone who's phone was scammed and the scammer kept callin me. I remeber that because it was a scary lesson for me as a young college intern. Two Tori's and different last names - vauge familiarity but from where I dont know.

I know Goku belongs to a friend who may as well be my younger brother, though we don't talk since he went to med school.

Naruto automatically summons memories of long days in the study room on campus in college. High school lunch breaks discussing computer science.

The point is, believe it or not it was a strategy. I stopped doing it when I grew up but only after a bit of bullying and some misadventures. It was a survival trait adopted by a young naive teenager who was moving from a world of early online culture into a real world of people and connections.

It was never really about the organization or structure... it was about giving context to the interaction.

But if I were to lose those connections, that context... I would certainly have some questions about who That Guy is and why He /It/ [really just she] was in my favorites.

new character idea: dude who wakes up with amnesia for whatever reason and tries to go through their phone to figure out "ok who do i allegedly know well enough to get their help" except pre-amnesia!dude had all their contact names like this:

[kvroomi]

thinking about bf!kuroo who insists you start your mornings off by picking a random word and seeing who can weave it into the most conversations throughout the day. winner gets bragging rights, obviously.

which leads you to your current position: standing in a coffee shop while kuroo taps his foot, plotting. today’s word of the day is perpendicular. there’s a smirk on his lips so strong he has his entire face twisted to look in the opposite direction so you don’t notice. alas, it doesn’t work.

“what are you planning?” your eyes narrow as you look up at him.

“relax, babe.” he bumps his hip into yours, playfully as your eyebrows furrow and your frown deepens. he continues,

“just making life more interesting,” and winks at you, before resting an arm around your shoulders.

when it’s finally your turn to order, the cashier greets you with friendly smile and politely asks what you’d like to get. before you can even think to open your mouth, kuroo steps in.

“hey there!” he says, far too loud and enthusiastic for 9am on a sunday.

“i was just admiring how perfectly perpendicular this counter is to the floor.” he rubs at the front of the marbled table, even going as far as to step backwards and act like he was admiring the ground. oh my god you think.

“very impressive craftsmanship.”

the cashier blinks confused and you have to bite your lip to avoid cussing him out (it was actually to stop yourself from laughing but you’d never tell kuroo that), as he continues to double down.

“it’s not every day you see such a perpendicular set up! must make the coffee taste better, huh?” he adds with a dramatic nod as if he’d just uncovered something groundbreaking.

the cashier looks from him to you, unsure whether it was a weird joke the two of you were trying to play, or if kuroo genuinely was just passionate about counters.

“uh… probably?” they say hesitantly.

you roll your eyes but you can’t fight off the smile that slowly begins to make its way to your face. you cut in, suddenly feeling bad for subjecting the cashier to kuroo’s jokes so early in the morning and order

“we’ll just get 1 large vanilla iced americano with a dash of oat milk, and a large oat milk mocha to takeaway, please.”

you watch the cashier nod and kuroo walks up to pay.

as you walk away from the counter, you whip your head towards kuroo’s as you both burst into immediate laughter.

“stop tormenting the workers!” you manage to choke out.

he grins, very clearly pleased with himself and leans toward you. “i’m just living up to the word of the day. don’t hate the game, babe.”

you hear your coffee order get called and you drag him up to collect it.

he holds the door for you as you leave and you can’t help the soft smile that lingers as you comment with a shake of your head, “you’re the biggest dork i’ve ever met.”

and, of course, kuroo responds with a boisterous laugh: “yeah, but i’m your dork.”

there’s a beat before he’s laughing to himself again,

“perpendicularly yours.”

[castleofclouds]

You do have quite the “Sweet Tooth.”

A mark lee × reader au

Genre : fluff, humor, slice of life, doctors

Disclaimer : everything are fiction, non-idol au, grammar and typo might happen, mark as doctors.

Story are by © castleofclouds, do not copy, or repost without any tags!

—✧—⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ˖—✧—⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ˖—✧— ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ˖—✧—⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪

This is your third visit to the dentist, for the same reason of course cavity treatment, this is the third time in a year your teeth been nothing but aching, and if there is one thing about you, is that you hate dentist. Especially the one in front of you.

Any of them actually, even though the dentist that are treating you right now have a face like a porcelain sculpture, you still didn't like seeing him sighing, breathing heavily.

doctor Mark is what you would normally called is your dentist, and you are quite a loyal customer/patients for his clinic.

“Again? What did you do this time? Eat chocolate and don't brush your teeth after it? I told you too many times how important it is to brush your teeth two times a day?” Mark, your dentist look at you with another dissapointed gaze.

You don't understand why he is mad, isn't it his job to treat you as his patients? Besides if you keep coming to his dental clinic? Isn't that an advantages for him than yourself? He kept getting payed and you get to keep destroying your teeth. Case closed? Why is he so worked up about it?

“You know me..” you answer sheepishly, he rubbed his forehead, confused in what way any more can he told you? He keep explaining to you how mouth hygiene were everything, and you should stop with your bad habits of keep eating sweets like they are your meal for the day.

“What about the diet that I assigned you?” he asked again, you shakes your head to show your disagreement.

You don't like the diet, one thing about you, that doctor Mark keep reminding you off, are the facts you don't even eat fruits, you even once said you rather got starving in the middle of the desert than eating a fruit.

That's right, you hated fruit.

It's not a secret any more, well at first it is, Mark never see someone that hates fruits as much as you do, he keep assigning you to at least eat fruits a day, but you always ended up coming back to his clinic with your teeth aching, he shakes his head, not in disagreement, he is just predicted this. Disappointing but not much of a surprise.

“Why do you hate fruits that much?” he asked eagerly, you wondered why, you never really thought of it yourself, you just hate them, some fruits have weird textures, some fruits have odd smell, some fruits are just not up to your liking, you just hate them without ever trying to eat them.

“If I love them, I wouldn't be here wouldn't I?” your sarcastic remarks, causing him to chuckle in pity, not for you, but for him, to even think you had another reason why you don't like the thoughts of fruits.

Well Mark is a very diligent doctor, he takes pride in his job, it pained him to see a patient that couldn't be healed, well he seems to be a very honest person isn't it? Or he is just that kind to even let you, basically a stranger to have a healthier life, where your teeth are perfectly fine, and you ate fruits like its your breakfast, no one knows.

Then there's a thoughts, an idea, crossing through his head into his mind, like a sudden light show on top of his head, turn on by his idea, like a brilliant character you often see in an old movie, an idea that he will hate later, but Mark is Mark, and he is a dentist, he works as one, then he gonna be doing his jobs right.

“What about a bet?” hearing the sounds of bet, are too intriguing for you not to hear intensively, like if your minds had a favorite keywords, bet would be the first one to pop.

You like the thoughts of a game, and hearing it from Mark, your usual dentist is not something you often see, like what is it? And what kind of prizes you could asked for later? Your mind already running wild with thoughts when he snapped you out from your daydream.

“Sure! A bet is fun, what kind of bet?” you asked, he thinks for a while before words spilling out of his mouth, “A bet, if you could eat at least one fruits, any kind, doesn't matter if there is a repetition, as long you eat, a whole fruit within a day for a solid one month, I'll consider that as a win.” He declared waiting for your response.

Seems fun, but you hated fruits? Can you even do this? Hesitation clouded your mind like a rainy day, you tried to think how you are going to do this challenge?

“But what are the prizes if I do win?” you asked, he thinks for a while before flicking his fingers in instant, “Free treatment for a whole month?”

This is great idea, you are in need of some savings, you couldn't always relying on your salary that doesn't even cover most of your meals, this is like a gold that you found on a random dig hole on random mountain walk, you hit a jackpot!

You were almost agreeing, when a fun idea came back filling your mind, like a circus full of entertainment, “But how do you know that I'm not lying?” you grinned, he was dazed, he didn't think it through though? How can he make sure you do eat your fruits?

“I... I'm not sure..” he tried to found a way, that's when your fun ideas came to play, “How about we play fake dating?” you joked, how does that could run through that pretty head of yours? You don't know but you don't mind, it's fun to tease anyway.

So how does this make any sense? Well at first you know you just have to make sure that you win this bet, Mark would 100% change his mind and didn't agreed, but you would still win, why? You can just play pretend, like you somehow eat a fruit, nowadays it's not hard to manipulate a photo? This will be easy.

“Great idea, sure!” you smiled, completely didn't get the idea, “Of course just as I thought you wouldn't be.. Wait what?!” you were astounded, yelling a question that you would never understand why, “I said it's a great idea, let's do it, besides I feel like this would be fun!” Mark felt a rush of dopamine filling his mind into his heart, he loves this feeling, this is the first time in 5 years since he became a dentist.

Well.. Turns out dating or in your case, play dating with a dentist, isn't as fun as you thought it will be, it's been a week, and he had been nothing but a nagging mom.

Mark would make sure to call you every time his appointment ended on weekday, like some days ago, he were busy making sure to see you eat your grape that he send you himself this morning, sometimes when he isn't that busy, he would just barged in, like he owns the house (he is actually not, you just loved being dramatic) he often make sure to visit you, just to watch you swallowing down those orange juice that he makes.

It takes a whole dedication to do all of that, and two days after which is now you are having a date, at a very cute cottage vibe cave, with lots of natural plants, and sunlight, he prepared your food, it's a cute strawberry croffle with lots and lots of strawberries and some berries on the side.

“How is it? I know you probably bored eating and drinking just juice and fruits, so I tried something fun, I picked this one myself actually..” he blushed, you smiled shyly, never knew the dentist that always up right and uptight had this romantic side of him.

You kinda wanted to know, does he ever dated before? He looks so experienced in it, kinda make you feel sad, but then you shakes those thoughts away, why do you feel sad? This is Mark, the dentist that are always at your throat remind you how much fruits are important, nagging you about your mouth hygiene and much more.

“Why? You don't like it? do you want to try anything else? Or swapping with mine? It's blueberry croffle it's less sweet, oh you have sweet tooth do you perhaps wants chocolates one?” he asked softly, gosh he looks so attractive with his casual clothes, you imagine him smiling and spoon fed you the croffle, like actual boyfriend.

“Oh nothing, it's great too, strawberry is fine.” you answered, he worried, “Sorry, this is boring isn't it, I don't know much about dating, I only watch them on some movies, I saw this scene of taking your girlfriend to a cute cafe and enjoy a croffle, I should have asked you first..” as soon as you heard that, you chuckled, quite loudly people looks at your table as you tone it down.

“No, this is fun! More fun than most dates I've been, it's.. Sweet, thanks.” you smiled as soon as the laughter died down, he smiled genuinely, “As sweet as chocolates?” he teased, you laughed and nodded, “As sweet as chocolates.”

Few weeks passed, many things happen, Mark morning call had been nothing but your favorite part of the day, every dates is fun, he often takes you to a random cafe that served cute fruits dessert, he often brought you to the parks, eating ice cream, crepes, bagels, even though after that he will lecture you at evening, how it's important to always brush your teeth before go to bed, sometimes you would be so tired you just fell asleep while he lectures you about many things, he would always make sure to just spend a solid 10 minutes listening to your soft breathe as you sleep soundly on the phone.

Mark couldn't focus one bit, he always find himself to wonder how would it be, if you two were actually a thing, he couldn't help but putting so many aesthetic cafes around the city hoping one day you both would go there and have a talk, not like the usual patients and doctor, but as individual that enjoying each other company.

As soon as you came to your usual checkup appointments, he smiles brightly, like a kid that just see his favorite person came into the room.

“Do you have breakfast yet?” he asked, you smiled, “Yes doc.” he sighed in relief, “How is your teeth any sign of pain lately?” he continues, you shakes, lately your teeth have been nothing but being good, you don't feel any aching you often feel at night.

He smiles, when he were writing on his notes, you look around his office, you see a calendar next to his notes and clocks.

It's already been 28 days, it's almost times up, you feel sad, you didn't want this feeling to stop though, you want someone to keep remind you to eat apples once a day, prepare a healthy orange juice, cute dates, stroll around the park, sight seeing the scenery of the beautiful city you live in, a daily lecture before bed that Mark often do, so many things that he did somehow feels like a habit for you, you didn't want it to stop.

He found your eyes looking at the calendar, he didn't realize, he cough a bit to catch your attention, “Ah.. It's almost time isn't it?” he speak, you agreed.

How can you tell him that you wish the bet didnt have to end, you couldn't, Mark on the other way thinking of what he should say next, can he asked for this playing dating game to continue? What if you didn't want to play it anymore? At the end both of you just ended up taking a glance at each other no conclusion what so ever.

Even after the bet ended, you ended up winning but at what cost? You aren't this fake girlfriend of Mark as you used to, your morning today seems dull, nobody called you, even though you have been waiting, so many fruits on your fridge left untouched, you take a stroll, today is a weekend so you wish to enjoy your time alone, somehow so many couples walk past you, you wanted to curse yourself to even take stroll on this park, today park were crowded with people holding hands, kissing, talking, yet you alone.

You sighed, you wish Mark were here, as you sit at the park bench, you sat there wondering if you should just go on some random blind date to found someone to fill the emptiness inside your heart, when a breeze of winds blew your hair, flowers today were beautifully bloomed, on the corner of the crowd you see someone walk with his eyes focused on you, bouquet of flowers on his right hands, a smile that warms your heart, as he close the gap between the both of you standing in front of you.

“Sorry, am I late for our date?” you couldn't believe your ears, you didn't have to think twice as you throw yourself to his embrace, Mark holds you tightly as he whispered, “Let's stop playing pretend this time okay?” you laughed at that.

You guess you didn't have to worry about your sweet teeth anymore, because you found someone more sweets than all of the chocolates and candies in the whole world.

Masterlist.

A/N

Okay, I want y'all to know HOW MUCH I LOVE I HATE FRUITS gosh, at first I don't really understand why so many people fond of it, until I read the lyrics, gosh. IT'S SO SWEET WTH? and actually I got this ideas from this habit of mine tho, I don't like fruits, and I fear mark hear my thoughts and make the song? (I'm joking, about the song based on me, but I do doesn't really fond of fruits okay?) And I just got this idea somehow all of the sudden how do yall like it? Hope you like it tho, another one shot ig?

[running-with-the-feels]

Okay, totally outside of what I normally post but, I just watched I Saw The TV Glow and I can't stop crying

I thought everyone was exaggerating when they said it would crack you open but no, actually, I think they were underselling it and I think it has rewired my brain chemistry

[ohmylcve]

tilting her head while confused with the movie, maisie wondered where she was in that very moment: while her eyes were trying to hold on to the images, they seemed to switch so quickly, as if she didn't have enough time to properly feel them. this simple thought sent goosebumps all over maisie's body, when she came to the realisation that no matter what this movie was about, living would always be just like a movie: when you begin to understand and to feel yourself inside the movie, another scene would pop up, making you have to adapt or else you'd be suffering the nostalgia of not having something. and this was the moment in which she allowed herself to properly think about what was going on between the two of them: he was feeling. she was feeling. both of them were eager to savour the moment, but what if the scene changed? what if just as quick as a movie cut, they could find themselves apart?

but their connection was stronger than simple cuts, wasn't it? their connection lasted for so many movie cuts, almost as if it the exchange between scenes were a translucent one, not changing to another one, but yet transforming. the way their hands touched while passing the joint, it seemed like they were giving space to the unsaid to express itself in the way they were ready to do so... which was using objects to fulfill the lack of touch by the other's hands. as julian mentions the popcorn, maisie grabs it and has to hard blink to properly see the popcorn. with the exchanging light between scenes on the movie, maisie finds herself a bit confused when grabbing the popcorn. there's no sauce, she thinks, recalling the fact that neither her or him had put it all on. with the honey-sriracha-and-others kind of sauces by his bed, she grabs each one, a movement taking way more than it actually should, but time isn't a thing for her right now. as she finish, she shakes the popcorn in order to mix all of the ingredients, letting some of it fall on the ground. without a question, she's quick to grab herself a hand full of popcorns, and put it in her mouth. noticing he's looking at her, she can't help but to laugh while the weird taste mixes itself, playing on top of her tongue as if it was their own playground. "i am maisie. i told you- no, no more..." she laughs, knowing how complex it is to simply form sentences without laughing. "no more silence, okay?" she keeps on laughing, catching her breath as she inhales the haze between them, feeling as if she could actually be even higher just by this simple act. "for...?" she questions, wondering what is it that it's going around on his mind, making him form sentences wide opened, with multiple possibilities of interpretations. as she notices him cutting his sentence by the end of it, she can't help both the curiosity and the expectation towards his next words. pretend you're not what? please, say it, her eyes begs at him, like the invisible string is now around her chest, unable to be cut and unable to be untangled, unless they both used words for it. how she hoped he was about to say what she was feeling as well.

with an attempt to get the answer she wanted, maisie leaned in, even closer to him, holding up a curiosity gaze and not backing away any inch. from this point on, maisie decided that the only movement related to their distance would be to decrease it, and not increase: their bond seemed to be blossoming, and she wouldn't be the one to tear it down. not when she was this deep in. "julian," she says it back, savouring his name just as much as he was savouring hers, each and every letter lingering on her tongue; an abstraction of themselves on each other's tongues. with the smoke escaping from his lips, maisie leans in a bit more, inhaling the smoke once more as if she wanted to show that whatever he wanted to give her, she would take it. "never." voice down low as she was now blinking slowly, eyes no longer able to hold the disguise of its desire. curious of what would follow, her whole face is letting out, one by one, of those so mixed up feelings. as maisie's now aware of the rush of her heart, there's literally nothing else holding her back. "would you do the honors?" she lets out in a whisper, almost as if she was breaking the secrecy they've built up for so long.

julian’s mind felt like it was moving in slow motion, each thought dragging itself into clarity before dissolving back into the haze. the buzz of the joint softened everything—the tension, the questions, the weight of what was happening between him and maisie. or maybe it didn’t soften them at all. maybe it just made them louder, unavoidable in the silence. he could feel his heart beating too fast, its rhythm oddly matched to hers, as if they were caught in the same invisible current pulling them toward something inevitable. her earlier question lingered in his head, echoing as the room settled into the dim glow of the television. the screen flickered with surreal images from the movie, its eerie tones and disjointed visuals only amplifying the strange energy in the room. julian felt maisie’s presence next to him—closer than usual, close enough to feel her warmth, her slight movements, the way her breath hitched every time their hands brushed or the joint passed between them. he inhaled deeply, letting the smoke fill his lungs like armor against the vulnerability threatening to surface. he held it in, watching maisie as she sat there, facing him instead of the movie. her gaze darted between his eyes and his lips, lingering just a moment too long, as if she were caught in some unspoken thought. he exhaled slowly, the smoke curling out in front of him, dissipating into the air between them, and passed the joint back to her without a word. when her hand touched his to take it, it felt like electricity, a static charge running up his arm and into his chest. her fingers lingered, just barely, but enough to make him question whether it was intentional or if he was imagining it. his eyes traced the line of her hand to her lips as she took a pull, and he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about how easily the joint had become a stand-in for everything else they weren’t saying. the way her lips closed around it, the faint blush in her cheeks when she exhaled—it was a slow burn, and he was letting it consume him.

julian watched her cough and laugh softly, the sound breaking the silence and pulling him back from the edge of his thoughts. she mumbled an apology, her voice quiet, almost bashful, and finally turned to face the television. but he wasn’t looking at the screen. he couldn’t. his eyes were on her, on the way her body leaned just slightly toward his, on the way her presence seemed to take up all the space in the room. she feels it too, he thought, his mind circling the idea like a moth around a flame. there was no way she didn’t. every glance, every laugh, every hesitant touch—it was all there, unspoken but undeniable. he wanted to say something, to break the silence, to make sense of this overwhelming pull between them, but the words wouldn’t come. so he let the moment stretch, the movie’s strange, haunting soundtrack filling the room as the two of them sat there, caught in a tension that felt as fragile as it was inevitable. when maisie turned to him again, her head tilting slightly as she surveyed the snacks on the bed, julian couldn’t help but grin. she was playing along with his silent dare, her expression a mix of amusement and exasperation. her eyes flicked to his, her brow raising as if to say, well? what now? he reached over, grabbed the bowl of popcorn, and held it out to her with a smirk, his free hand gesturing toward the array of sauces and snacks.

julian took another deep drag from the joint, the smoke curling into his lungs like it was trying to fill all the empty spaces inside him. the haze was thick now, both in the room and in his mind. he could feel his thoughts slipping away, like sand through his fingers, leaving him with nothing but raw sensation—maisie’s laughter echoing faintly in his ears, the warmth of her body just inches from his, the tension between them crackling like static electricity. god have mercy on me, he thought as he exhaled slowly, the haze swirling around them. he wasn’t sure what would happen now, but he knew he couldn’t think straight anymore. every filter, every wall he’d built to keep his feelings in check, was crumbling, and he was too far gone to stop it. the movie played on, but neither of them seemed to care. she was looking at him, her eyes heavy-lidded but focused, and he didn’t even realize he was staring at her, his own thoughts a mess of what ifs and why nots. “maisie,” he murmured, her name slipping out before he could stop himself. it wasn’t a question or a statement, just her name, spoken like it was the only thing anchoring him to reality. he looked down at the joint in his hand, then back up at her, a crooked smile tugging at his lips despite the nervous energy building in his chest. “i think… i think i might be too high for this,” he admitted with a low laugh, the honesty spilling out before he could second-guess it. his voice was softer now, more vulnerable, as if the haze had stripped away all his usual defenses. “like, way too high to pretend i’m not—”

he stopped himself, the words catching in his throat. his mind was too numb to think clearly, but not numb enough to ignore the way maisie was looking at him, the way the air between them felt impossibly charged. he knew he should pull back, crack a joke, do something to break the tension, but he couldn’t. he didn’t want to. julian took another slow drag, the joint burning low now, and let his head tilt back against the mattress. his eyes stayed on maisie, though, watching her as if she were the only thing in the room that made sense. julian's head lolled slightly to the side, his gaze settling on maisie with a hazy intensity that even he couldn’t fully explain. the joint was down to its last embers, and as he inhaled again, a sudden thought surfaced in his mind, one he couldn’t suppress, no matter how much his rational brain might have tried if it weren’t so thoroughly numb. “maisie,” he murmured, the words slow and drawn out, as if he were trying them on for size. he let the smoke escape his lips, the wisps curling into the space between them. his voice was soft, a little slurred, but carried a thread of curiosity that felt oddly weighted. “has anyone ever… like… given you a shot when you were smoking?”

[haunted-xander]

Well, I guess you didn't have much of a choice either

[s0fter-sin]

i need ghoap frantically making out against a door finally taking the leap on their feelings. need ghost grinding against soap, expecting to find him just as hard as him, only to feel nothing

and in all his wisdom and experience, he concludes soap was tortured and never told him

he’s trying to think of a delicate way to say he understands, that he’s been through it and it doesn’t change anything about how he feels (and who the fuck touched him so he can hunt them down and rend them limb from limb)

meanwhile trans!soap’s just trying to find the best angle to grind his cunt on ghost’s thigh

just it never even entering ghost’s head bc he’s never known a trans person but he has met plenty of people who’ve been tortured - himself included - so of course that’s his logical leap

soap takes off his shirt and he sees his top surgery scars and ghost asks if he wants him to kill the one who did it and soap just hums like, “actually, man did pretty good, they healed real well,” and ghost’s just teary-eyes with awe at how well he’s coping, “looking on the bright side, that’s my johnny.”

imagine he thinks johnny was fully castrated but sees he’s determined to still have a sex life with him so he buys packers and straps to help him bc hell yeah healing and soap’s just like, “holy shit i’ve never had such a thoughtful partner before, such a sweet man, lt.”

[dizzybizz]

would love to see some bronseele! :3c

then may i offer some (very messy) bronseele??

[sapphiresaphics]

Probably because those arguments are… wrong?

Like I mentioned already in another post, someone on here was complaining they didn’t understand why Victor was flying through space. And I had to explain to him he’s not LITERALLY flying through space. The space backgrounds are symbolic of him being ethereal and unteathered to reality. He’s not literally flying through space like a human space ship. And he blocked me for pointing that out.

Like that’s just someone being flat out WRONG in their interpretation of what’s happening. Viktor isn’t a space ship. He’s not literally flying through the cosmos.

My issue is less about people understanding the themes properly (it’s a work of art, and art is subjective most of the time) but rather this bizarre hypocritical attitude towards the show for being “too fast paced” while m the show is spending a lot of time focusing on the issues they seem to be missing. Like how did Vi and Jinx just flip back into sister mode? Gee I dunno.. wish there was a whole 40 min episode dedicated to seeing them work out their issues on screen… oh wait there was!

Also news flash, not all criticism is valid.

Some is just BAD. Bad criticism doesn’t deserve to be treated with the same respect as good faith criticism. If you say “X didn’t happen” and I point out in the episode where it very literally did happen… your original criticism is invalid.

I don’t think that the writers all always right. There are plenty of valid criticisms you can lobby against the show. Absolutely. But when you intentionally misunderstand the themes, or ignore them all together, or whine that character X serves no purpose because you’re ignoring half the plot.. that’s on YOU. Not the writers. If you willingly ignore what the show is telling you, you only have yourself to blame for that.

For example, calling Caitlyn a dictator. She’s not a dictator. The show doesn’t think she’s a dictator. She doesn’t say or do the things a dictator does. So when you criticize Caitlyn for being a dictator and get confused when she doesn’t do a dictator thing, that’s on YOU for using the wrong terminology to describe her actions and her character. And if you KEEP DOING IT, that’s again on you for not allowing yourself the ability to look at things from a different perspective.

As to the ideological stuff… that’s mostly because you WANT it to be about classism and oppression through power. And while that definitely is a running THEME of the show… I don’t think it’s the MAIN theme. I think the main theme is about family bonds and how all actions we take for them can have amazing and disastrous consequences. Viktor himself basically sums up the thesis of the show in his latest episode.

So when you look at the show from THAT perspective a lot of the weird hang ups you guys have start to make sense. Vi says Jinx is not her sister anymore and that Powder is gone. This is not true. Jinx says Jinx is gone, that is not true. Vander’s death broke the family apart. Vander being alive brings them back together. Caitlyn loves Vi. She’s done terrible terrible things out of the misguided attempt to protect the people around her, which sadly includes hurting Vi. Just like Vander and Silco did. Jayce and Viktor work towards saving humanity, but they are always on polar ends of the spectrum. Family is super important to Ambessa, which is why she’s working so hard to secure HexTech so she can protect her family (and Mel) from the Black Rose. And it causes her to do terrible terrible things. Every single plot point in this show is about FAMILY. And that’s going to matter when the Arcane rears its ugly head. The Arcane is going to try and break up the familiar bonds. It’s going to challenge and test those boundaries like it’s already doing with Jayce and Victor.

Class and oppression and systemic issues help explain WHY characters do what they do… but they’re not the main cause of things. Silco would’ve tried to kill Vander without Jayce’s Hex Tech interference after all. Jinx and Vi would’ve come to blows one way or another without the Arcane core going wild. The classism and systemic oppression is background noise. It’s there to set the scene. The REAL problem they have to face is the Arcane and what it’s going to do to try and separate everyone. To take away their individuality and choices (good and bad) that make them who they are.

So yeah, when you complain that you thought this show was about fixing Piltover and Zaun and you’re mad that “lore” is coming in… that’s why I think you’re wrong. Because the Arcane is going to challenge the bonds that unite everyone together. And the systemic issues are background dressing to set up the ultimate conflict of pure unchecked evil.

Happy?

I find it hilarious when the show called ARCANE starts talking about the ARCANE and the ARCANE starts having a more prominent role in the trajectory of the show named ARCANE that people are only now complaining about “lore” being added to the show.

Like, my dudes… the show was about the ARCANE. Now that it’s reacting and developing and becoming the big thing the whole show is heading towards… NOW you’re worried about the “lore” messing things up??!

Hahah

Sorry guys. I know we started with class inequality, and that’s definitely a theme of the show… but the TRUE star has ALWAYS been the ARCANE and how it reacts to the events around it.

They wouldn’t have named the show ARCANE if they weren’t going to address the ARCANE.

[moeblob]

son boy raccoon trash can man suffering in a dnd au as a cleric bc his warlock will not stop committing murders and he has to keep coming up with reasons murder is valid to convince the gm its fine and under control