#legitimately dumbfounded

[the-traveling-poet]

Pls i’m trying to rant to a friend abt the Bad Boy leaks (they don’t follow up on any of this) and they legit just say this to me. And I quote;

“Well, he’s not needed to fight anymore. If the leaks abt his passing 4 years after the rumbling are true, it’s fitting for him. He doesn’t have anything left for him anymore now that the war’s over. He has nothing left to live for.”

….

I’m sorry but??? What in the absolute fuck???

I’m so sick of people viewing Levi as only a weapon for humanity. Of people saying Levi only keeps himself alive to fight for others and has no self worth outside of his skill. That he’s just this cold man with no emotional worth and is just a pawn for war. A character with no purpose but to fight at someone’s command. Like a tool instead of a man. We’ve been shown time and time again his undying loyalty and devotion to those he cares for since season one. With the end of the rumbling does not bring about the end of his usefulness and self worth as a character. His character is so much more complex and deeply rooted with emotion than to equate his worth with how needed he would be to cut down the enemy. It’s simply uneducated bullshit from someone looking at the story through rose tinted glasses.I’m starting to wonder if some of these people watch the anime/read the manga with a blindfold on and a set of earplugs, for not being able to comprehend how characters are and for how they are written and portrayed. To be so blind to a character’s development as to label them ��worthless” and “no longer valid” when they’re no longer being held under a spotlight of war? Flabbergasting. Disappointing. Disgusting. And I of course have no idea if this one particular leak holds any truth, but even if it does. What in the absolute fuck.

[bigboobshaunt]

Still trying to wrap my head around this bitchaloid arguing that, since someone sold her the wrong med at an entirely different store and we don't have the one she actually wanted in stock rn, I'm somehow responsible for it because I'm the only employee working at this hour and so I should BUY IT FOR HER AT ANOTHER CHAIN???

[goldensunset]

so, it's been a few months. got bored and had nothing else to do so i was like hey let's rechallenge the elite four and cynthia right. yeah uh. so. it's going Real Bad

[gayestshakespearecouples]

Fellas, is it gay to tell your enemy that when you see him your heart "dances" more than it did when you looked on your new wife?

[dnangelic]

dark 'what the hell do you mean you actually care about me' moments

[primodialchaoswizard]

I cannot believe I now have to be ashamed of my parent’s political opinions and it’s not because I’m trans and it’s instead because my mom thinks California should secede from the Union.

[kujiba]

【Mew Mew Bitch】

୨୧ — ꒰ Cat!reader | they/them prounouns | Sagau | cultish behavior

reader who gets transported into teyvat.. As a half cat human

Mondstadt / Liyue / Inazuma / Sumeru / Fontaine / Natlan / Snezhnaya

After your (not so) calm trip in mondstat, you decided it was finally time to stealthy leave the city in order to experience the full time adventure!

Seeing that you were free, Aether then took the chance and offered you to assist him and paimon in their later journeys around teyvat.

Having the creator of the world be their travel companion almost made paimon completely faint from shock! But to you it felt like a silly little adventure, so you agreed.

The next stop being the nation of contracts, Liyue.

Tianquan of the Liyue Qixing; Ningguang had heard about your coming arrival and instantly issued the most luxurious and attractive looking gifts that fitted just for you, she could care less about the price, No matter what the costs it will be done without hesitation for her God.

Despite all the effort, it definitely left ningguang dumbfounded to watch you ignore the jewelry that she had brought which would reach over 100,000,00 mora.. For a life size cat stand that a worker gave as a small token.

Of course their god would prefer something like this, their body is legitimately a human with cat ears and a tail.

Scratch all the previous plans, they're going to have to make a different approach now in order to get your affection.

Ganyu, a adepti working under ningguang felt curious about your cat like traits, specifically your cat ears. Was it like hers but just more furry and soft? Are people allowed to touch them? She needs to know it all.

And so an idea popped inside her head.

Using very simple knowledge, Ganyu and Shenhe would then begin to often fish at Mt.Aozang in the very morning to seize as many fish as possible as a treat for you, this often turned into a competition in who would gather the most fish for their god.

One thing that's certain is that your love at resting in tall heights never fades, the Millelith would get an ocean of reports with countless of witnesses saying that they had seen their creator resting at the roof of wangshu inn making Xiao work overtime to catch you when you accidentally slip off the edge.

Other times would be that xiangling would have to guard you while you joined her in catching ingredients for her next dish. One moment you're eating raw fish straight from the river, the next you're getting kidnapped by some random hilichurls that spotted you from a distance.

The amount of times that you nearly encountered death was enough for hu tao herself to come and approach you, advertising her business to you with a 10% discount for first time customers. She then got scolded for trying to do such blunt move on their creator

Qiqi likes to follow you around, asking if she could touch your ears or tail out of pure confusion, she just decided that you were similar to ganyu and then asked for cocogoat milk. Once you feel something tug the base of your tail you already know who's doing it.

Zhongli has his fair share with animal type companions, so it didn't really bother him much whether you're a cat or human, you're his divine creator! What DOES bother him is that whenever in the open world, you would jump on the rock pillars he would summon WHILE there is an on going fight with an enemy

99 percent of the time you'd just fall off the rock pillar but thankfully land on your two feet like always. However, Zhongli was ready to drop everything he had on him to come and catch you in less than a second

Let's not talk about the mountains.

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

AU where Kara is still an assistant when Lena becomes CEO of CatCo. She makes some changes but one thing Cat tells her under no uncertain terms is that a) Kara stays, and b) she's destined to become a reporter when she's ready.

I'm going back and forth on whether Lena and Kara are friends at this point, or whether Lena simply takes on CatCo before they meet. But basically I want to see Kara having to a) build new connections to get Lena what she needs and b) learning what it's like to work for somebody who doesn't treat like dirt most days.

Like, imagine her standing dumbfounded the first time she brings Lena her coffee, because Lena simply thanks her, genuinely. And then the flush of pride when Lena comments in pleasant surprise when she discovers the coffee is perfectly warm-- not hot enough to scald, but not the usual tepidness of coffee thats had to travel three blocks to get to her.

Because Cat always took those little efforts for granted, as an expectation. But Lena smiles slyly as she regards Kara anew, and says "I think we're going to work together just fine."

Because Kara worked for Cat, not with her. And that small semantic means the world. Because its true-- Cat, and now Lena, wouldn't be able to do what she does without Kara doing what she does.

And that just makes Kara want to work all the harder. She finds she WANTS to stay late when Lena does, mostly because Lena urges her to go home, and that kind of kindness is the kind that's paid back by staunchly ignoring her and sticking around anyway. And she takes extra effort to learn all of Lena's preferences and idiosyncracies, so that she knows exactly what Lena needs when she's had a meeting with that particular board member she's outwardly civil to but clearly loathes.

The first and only time Kara brings Lena salmon for lunch, she's absolutely devastated when Lena looks at it, shoulders falling. "I forgot to tell you I can't stand salmon," she says, resignedly.

Kara's eyes go wide in horror. "Oh! No, that's okay, I'll just go--"

"Please don't bother, it's my fault, I never told you--"

"It's no problem at all. Just-- wait here okay?"

As if Lena would be anywhere but her desk. But in ten minutes, Kara returns with a greasy paper sack.

"I promise, this isn't a punishment for needing something last minute," Kara says quickly. "These are legitimately the best burgers in the city, and honestly, it's the greatest gift I could ever give you."

Okay. Maybe she's laying it on a little thick. But Lena only looks at her with a bemused smile. "All right," she slowly agrees. Her eyebrow quirks. "I'm assuming you picked up something similar for yourself?"

Kara blushes. "Yeah. Can't help myself."

"Good. Then you can eat with me."

Freezing, Kara feels like a deer in the headlights. For all that Lena has treatedher as an equal, they've never eaten together in the same room. They usually eat at their own desks, working through.

"Really?"

"Really." Lena's gaze turns artificially solemn. "If I'm going to have a self-induced heart attack, I better have someone there to call 911."

Unable to keep herself from grinning, Kara scuttles to retrieve her own burger and fries from her desk. And there, together, they share the first of many, many meals to come.

[sgiandubh]

Anon rebelde.

Menudo giro de guion para las antis, Sam y Cait juntos en un evento para fans donde no están obligados por Starz a participar, ya sabes, ese tipo de eventos con dinero de por medio que sus acérrimas fans siempre han afirmado que Cait no hace porque ella no es de esa clase de engañabobos como es Sam, siempre pensando en como hacer caja a costa de los bolsillos del fandom. Con eso demuestran que ya han pasado página de un fandom tóxico y empeñado en hacerlos parecer menos que compañeros de trabajo para hacer lo que les place, nadie haría ascos a una Venecia carnavalesca, sacándoles de paso ese dedo medio que tan bien saben utilizar y que creo que de aquí en adelante van a usar mucho más.

Dear (returning) Anon Rebelde,

Una vez más, llego muy tarde a responder a tu interesantísimo comentario. Sin embargo, esta vez, me atrevo a decir que lo hice por buenas razones: simplemente, encontré tu comentario provocativamente alentador. Me hizo pensar aún más en el asunto de Venecia, sobre el que ya se han mencionado muchas cosas. Sin embargo, faltaba algo, y ese algo es una perspectiva cultural más amplia. Pero, antes que nada, traduzcamos lo que me enviaste:

'What a plot twist for the antis, Sam and Cait together at a fan event where they are not forced by Starz to participate, you know, those kinds of events involving money her Stans have always claimed Cait doesn't do, because she's not that kind of con artist like Sam, always thinking about how to make money at the expense of the fandom's pockets. With that they show that they have already turned the page on a toxic fandom bent on making them look less than coworkers, and do whatever they like to do. Nobody would turn down a carnivalesque Venice, and they chose this giving the fandom that middle finger they know how to use so well, and that I think they will use a lot more from now on.'

Everything you wrote, dear Anon Rebelde, and then some more. If I weren't one of their favorite targets, I could even feel #sorry for this entire bunch of #silly people, who are now legitimately freaking out in public silence and inbox mischief. All of this just because their basic, binary tropes (S is a cheap scammer, C is an intangible saint) are seemingly being shaken to the core by what yes, is a very interesting and ironic plot twist. Granted, this is still an OL-ish related event, but it is just not your usual sort of event (a con, a panel, a promo-related interview) and it happens just as shooting is now completely over. It will be very difficult for all those people who are probably dumbfounded (and not in a good way) by this, to forget they were barking with great confidence no later than last week, that S and C will NEVER DO ANYTHING ELSE TOGETHER, that SHE WAS WAY OVER OL AND THAT PEASANT, that HE WILL DISAPPEAR INTO ALCOHOLIC OBLIVION AND SHE WILL OH, THE PLACES SHE'LL GO ON HER OWN. It turns out the opposite seems to happen and it goes to show spitting upwards is never a great idea, lest it would land on your own head. Therefore, we are met with a lot of sobriety and zero comments on those Mordorian outlets: when it's inconvenient - minimize, minimize, minimize and hope for better days (hooker, Tracula, Alphabet Fitness Harem, Orange Influencer, Brazilian fan with an agenda, etc).

Granted, this is not 'fair Verona', but literary tropes are very powerful and magic, like that, and it is almost impossible not to think about what happened there, 'when ancient grudge broke to new mutiny' (I hope I remember it correctly, as I write this). In other words, it is impossible not to think about the ballo in maschera at the Capulet's mansion, even if the official theme of the event is (oh, the irony!) Casanova's Venice (half of Mordor has no idea who that fine gentleman was, LOL). It also goes without saying the entire thing will probably look rather like Baz Luhrmann's interpretation...

... than the very aesthetically pleasing, but totally stiff Zeffirelli version:

Granted, this is happening in the context of the (nowadays) very touristy Venetian carnival, a horrific hullaballoo few people, snobbery put aside, really and honestly enjoy. But it is exactly the irony of this that seemed perhaps the most important of it all. In a form of poetic justice, the pretext is Carnival, that almost ridiculous, nonsensical, borrowed time of collective foolishness. You'd even be tempted to not think twice, yet there is nothing more dead serious and subversive than Carnival itself, and it has been like this since the Roman Saturnalia feast, when slaves turned into masters and masters into slaves, if only for a crazy day. Its deep meaning is not really about allowing freeform fornication in dark alleys and a brief respite before the long, austere dullness of Lent. Its deep meaning is, perhaps above anything else, about a giant, collective middle finger to what is perceived as oppressive, absurd and coercing authority. Since I suppose those fine minds across the street never read Bakhtin's Rabelais and His World, where everything is explained with luminous clarity, they will have to either believe me or shite over the same inbox you sent your comment to, first thing in the morning. Sometimes, truth seeps through chaos. Sometimes, things are not what they seem to be. Oh, the irony!

I am not even saying SC are aware of the...uhm... metaphorical implications of their choice to attend a rather profitable event. I am pretending to even ignore the fact that at such events, the invited co-presenters or hosts are, more often than not, real life couples, too. All I am saying (since apparently I have to thoroughly, boringly explain absolutely everything I write) is that this tiny coincidental detail gave me pause and a contented chuckle.

And with all this, I still haven't watched that Paley panel. Will do, in reasonable time. Thank you for dropping by, Anon Rebelde - it is always a stimulating pleasure.

[werewolf-witchboy]

Rodrick Heffley X male reader

You and Rodrick are both emo, dumb, and queer. 💀

This is shorter than what I usually post.

Also, for some reason every time I typed "Rodrick" it always autocorrected to "Rodriguez" lmfao. I tried fixing it every time it did that, so hopefully there aren't any leftover "Rodriguez's" that I didn't catch.

You can't help but find it funny that Rodrick's mom busted him for having a porno mag, you teased him about it for weeks.

However, what you've just found in Rodrick's closet was a lot harder to tease him about. You didn't even think you should mention that you found it, you debated on keeping it a secret forever.

Rodrick had asked you to run up to his room to grab another pair of drumsticks for him, which he said was in his closet.

The drumsticks were nowhere to be found, so you had to dig around a little. Instead you found another porno magazine- which wouldn't have even phased you honestly, only what shocked you is that it's a gay porno magazine.

Rodrick was the type to make jokes about himself being into dudes, but you didn't actually think he was. After all, he has been your best friend ever since you moved to Plainview at the beginning of your Freshmen year.

You've both been through so much together; struggling through all 4 years of highschool as the wild emo outcasts, graduating, and forming the Löaded Diaper! You've even come out to him and told him you like guys, so you didn't think he'd keep something like that from you.

Maybe it's not that big of a deal. He probably didn't even know he had a gay porno mag amongst all of his junk. For all you know, it could have been one of yours that you left at his place.

Then again...why would you bring one of your own porno's to someone else's house?

You must have been taking forever getting the drum sticks that you originally came for, because minutes later Rodrick came through the door.

"You find em'? I know my closet is a mess, but-" Rodrick froze when you bravely showcased the magazine instead of a pair of drumsticks.

"Let me guess...this isn't yours?" You teased, mocking what he told his mom about the other magazine.

Rodrick stood up straight and cleared his throat, then strode over to snatch your find away.

"It is mine. Not like you should be surprised."

Well now your brain is malfunctioning.

"Um I am a little surprised, considering my best friend never told me he also likes dudes!" You try not to sound hurt, but it was kind of hard to hide your frustration considering you told him everything.

Rodrick legitimately looked dumbfounded and you tried not to laugh through your pout.

"What do you think I mean whenever I say shit like 'Kellin Quinn is my dream guy' and 'I'd kiss you if you'd let me'?!"

Your eyeliner smudged eyes are probably buldgeing out of your head right now.

"Um...I thought they were jokes?" Even as those words are coming out of your mouth you felt kinda stupid. For as long as you've known Rodrick, he's always said stuff like that.

Anyone also knows that Rodrick is never subtle when it comes to flirting, so you should have probably known that all of the random pickup lines he's used on you were most likely serious.

Rodrick's mouth hung open. "So you're telling me that I've basically just been hitting on a brick wall for 5 years?"

"i'M sOrRy! You know I have low self esteem! Whenever people like me I never notice because I don't think people will ever like me!!" Words all blended together as you spoke in a fast panicked pace.

Rodrick quite literally facepalmed.

You're lucky your obliviousness is cute or else he'd pumble you for talking down about yourself.

"I don't even know what to say right now." Rodrick was lost for words.

You awkwardly fiddled with your fingers, still sitting on the floor of his room in front of the closet. "If it means anything, I've had a crush on you for almost as long as I've known you." You puffed your cheeks out, feeling them becoming warm, probably turning pink.

Rodrick choked on his own spit. "iF IT MEANS ANYTHING TO ME???? HELL YES IT DOES!! How the heck you have a crush on me of all people?!" You looked down at the floor, kinda shocked that he doesn't understand why you'd like him.

"You're literally a hot emo boy who wasn't mean to me when I moved here. I had nothing before I met you, and you took me on so many adventures and showed me so many new things. I'm glad I met you, and it was hard not to fall for you."

It felt like you ranted a little too much, probably spilled a little to much and made yourself seem like a bit of a lonely loser without Rodrick.

You got a little scared when he wasn't saying anything. Your gaze lifted from the floor to meet his calculating expression.

His reply was simply just "can we makeout?"

aNd oF cOuRse yOu sAid yEs, and he tripped over his own shoes when tried to tackle you on the floor. The two of you ended up tangled together in a heated makout session that felt so satisfying after pining over each other for 5 damn years. You're both so stupid I stfg lol.

[kaleldobrev]

Hard to Believe

Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x Fem!Reader

Summary: Ben tells you something that you weren’t quite expecting

Word Count: 581

Warnings: Cursing (4x), Ben being pissed about this generation of youth, Cute(?)!Ben

Authors Note: If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

As you were sitting on the couch attempting to read as Soldier Boy had the tv just loud enough for you not to be able to concentrate, you couldn’t help but notice out of your peripheral that he was staring at you. It wasn’t a creepy stare, more of like an enamored stare and you honestly couldn’t place why. The Supe had barely said two words to you since you, Hughie, and Butcher brought him back after the incident at Crimson Countess’. Finally semi-annoyed (or maybe it was more curiosity), you shut the book and looked over at him, making eye contact with him briefly before he looked away at the tv in front of him. “Can I help you?” You asked, and he turned to you, taking a sip from the cup he had in his hands.

“No,” he answered all too quickly, and semi-annoyed sounding. “Can I help you?”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re the one that won’t stop staring at me,” you said.

“I’m not staring at you. I have no reason to stare at you,” he said, his tone a little harsh, pissed that you had actually caught him despite it being blatantly obvious.

“If you say so,” you replied, re-opening your book. As soon as you had opened it, the staring started again. “You’re staring,” you said, not looking up from your book.

“How can you even tell?” He asked.

“Something called peripheral vision,” you said, turning the page. “So why are you staring?”

“I’m n—” he began, but that’s when you looked at him, eyebrow raised, not believing a word he was saying. “Fine. I was. Happy?”

“Just curious mostly as to why you won’t stop staring at me,” you stated. “No one’s ever stared at me as long as you have before.” It’s interesting, you wanted to add.

He scoffed. “Hard to believe.”

“And why’s that?” You asked, re-closing your book yet again.

“Cause you’re hot,” he said, no hint of humor in his voice. Shit he was serious, you thought. That’s when he looked over at you, looking dumbfounded at what he had just said to you. “What?”

“You just said I was…hot,” your voice had a hint of hesitation, and it was his turn to raise a brow.

“And?” He asked. “Does that offend you?” Fucking people these days, can’t pay anyone a fucking compliment, he thought.

“No…just…surprised really,” you said. And you were in fact legitimately surprised by Soldier Boy’s comment, as no one had even told you that you were hot before, not even previous significant others.

“Why?” He asked, taking another sip from his cup.

“No one’s…ever called me…hot…before,” you admitted.

“Again, hard to believe,” he said, getting up from his current spot. “No one? No one’s ever called you fucking hot before?” You shook your head. “Not even like…I don’t know….boyfriends?” You shook your head again.

“You’re the first one,” you said, your voice getting lower, slightly embarrassed. You felt your cheeks start to get pink.

He grinned. “Well lucky me.” As he started to walk away, he turned around to face you again. “Expect me calling you hot more. And…other things,” he winked. You wondered what other things he would start calling you now, and you hoped, that when he did in fact call you these things, it would be just when you and him were in the room and not in front of your friends. But knowing him, he’d do it in front of them.

Tag List: @jackles010378 @mrsjenniferwinchester @syrma-sensei @k-slla @justletmereadfanfic @deans-daydream @zombie-freak @waywardlatina @globetrotter28 If you'd like to be added to a tag list, let me know!

[sai-ai67]

What hurts me the most when reading TSC is Jean’s naivety. He spent his life being abused emotionally and physically by both his mother and father, and then being thrown into Evermore where he faced abuse from Grayson, Riko, and his coach. Despite traveling, he hasn’t known anywhere else except the nest and his hometown. In the locker room at Trojan, he lifts up his shirt, thinking they’ll overlook his scars just like the Ravens did. He talks about what happened in Evermore to Jeremy and is genuinely confused about how it isn’t normal, believing that’s how it goes for every sports team. This boy legitimately does not understand the full extent of how he was abused yet bears every imprint of cruelty done to him. Over time, he has built this deeply rooted belief that he deserves what happened to him.

Jean is naive to the kindness the world can offer. He’s skeptical and dumbfounded when treated with respect, unsure if it’s a mirage or real. All he’s ever known is abuse, and although I know he’s healing now, I can’t help but wonder what would have happened if Nora had made him attempt like in all the other drafts. Would we have known who he truly was outside of Evermore?

[instantartific]

Additional thought:

He's actually surprisingly well with young ones, and is certified to teach a few age ranges, but prefers to teach the 'older kids' (read: anyone about half his age or less) so that he can have full discussions with them without changing his vocabulary. Even then, he sometimes still needs to. A kid that's twenty four and one that's fourteen really isn't that different half the time. One just might make significantly more explicit jokes than the other one, but that's about it.

Does this mean he won't slip the SAYU Crew sweets if they pass by his chair during meetings, or won't have full entire discussions about the plausibility of unicorns being a real life animal, no actually, they really were, with Yinu while Mama's occupied?

Absolutely not.

Cute thought for today.

Nova teaching himself very, very basic sign language so he could better communicate with a student who's hard of hearing or fully deaf.

Nowhere near fluent nor even holding up a conversation, but seeing as the student can't hear him and can't even read his lips, taking a bit more time to speak to them directly over writing notes or using an app seemed like the least he could do.

Maybe even goes far enough as to change the way he does his lectures just to make it easier for them to understand when he's starting and stopping, and writing down important things they would be missing if he just said it.

He used to do anything for the few students he had.

[brain-amoeba]

Test: The Mortician's Flame (Gregory House x F!Reader)

Hi friends :) I have been very busy this summer between a 6-wk course session, an internship, and banging out a couple sentences a week on my wips because of writers block. BUT, I (obviously) have gotten into House MD and let me just say I am definitely very normal about it and can be trusted with it. Anyway, I was listening to Acid Bath and the song title 'The Mortician's Flame' gave me an idea for a fic in which the reader is a mortician. Below is a little excerpt, partly because I want to see how you guys like it and because I am hitting a block and need some feedback for the direction I want it to take...so without further ado, enjoy:

Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. It was a name you were quite familiar with, and found yourself frequenting. Considering your occupation, it did not exactly spell good news for the hospital, though…you were a mortician. If death did not follow you everywhere, then it was you who chased it. You tried medical school, tried working as an aid at various clinics of all kinds throughout your schooling. Despite your aptitude, you never quite clicked with the living patients. After years of frustration, imposter syndrome, and the death of a loved one, you were beckoned to your current profession. All of these thoughts left your brain swimming as you made your way through the lobby and towards the elevator. The sharp clacking of a certain cane snapped you out of your brooding.

"Oh, Dr. House…" You trailed off. An unusual clamminess came over you, and you found yourself wiping humid palms on your slacks. "I was just coming up to see you. I-" The ding of the elevator interrupted you, and he ushered you inside. " Y/N. I wasn't expecting a trip from the Grim Reaper so soon. Is it my time yet?" He asked, almost sardonically. Though you were used to his abrasive personality, his remarks still caught you off guard. "W-well, I don't live too far from here, and I got a phone call from my…boss…" You were dumbfounded completely--what the hell has gotten into you?! Normally, House's cold gaze did little to penetrate your psyche, but this time, that icicle was wedged completely between your eyes. "And? If you take any longer someone might actually die, and then you would have a legitimate reason to be here. But you don't, do you?" And there it was. Were you really surprised, though? If he could deduce a one in a million diagnosis and be correct on the regular, then him seeing right through your flimsy excuse was guaranteed. "I-!" There were millions of things you could say, but not even a single word could make it past your trembling lips. Saved by the bell again, the elevator opened with a ding and House led you out, towards his office.

[femanthropy]

I saw this disturbing video of a woman whose boyfriend broke up with her because “there’s parts about her body he hates”. And has hated since they got together.

HATES? Apart from the fact that she is an incredibly beautiful woman not that that matters truly at all because that is not a fucking normal thing to think or say. That is legitimate one of the most deprived evil things I’ve heard anyone say to someone that they are supposed to love.

But honestly? The underlying deeper sinister part of this is that men don’t see women as human. We know this on many occasions. We know this from our experiences and others. Some men are so deeply deeply sick. So fucked in the head. There is something Wrong with them. I’m absolutely dumbfounded at how on earth someone would be conditioned or believe that about someone’s body. Let alone string along a relationship.

I’m absolutely livid and also absolutely disheartened and disturbed.

[katuschka]

Usually Sexual

Josh Kiszka x male OC; a spontaneous little thing, inspired by "recent events" ;-)

2.3+ words This is a work of fiction, intended for adult readers, so if you're under 18, go find some other entertainment elsewhere. Warnings: oral sex, intense emotions and verbal fights, some violence if you squint, some voyeurism too, I guess. A few swear words here and there. Loud noises.

The song was haunting them for months. It started as a spontaneous jam at Jake’s house during one of their many after-dinner get-togethers. Later, they kept revisiting the theme on tour. There was just something to it. It felt like one of those tunes that had always been there in its own metaphysical existence, just hanging in the air, waiting for them to grab it and turn it into actual sound waves. It eventually evolved into a full-fledged composition and when Josh started humming to it and added his own melodic line on top, they thought it might be THE song: The song that you may manage to write just once in a lifetime, or never. Then, one evening in late January, Josh came to the studio with lyrics and it was then that they knew it was THE song. 

There was only one problem. Josh just couldn’t force himself to sing it the way he wanted to. It felt right when he wrote it. It sounded right when he was alone, sitting at his piano at home. But here, in front of the others, he felt completely naked. Bashful, even, which dumbfounded them all, but mostly himself. It was always either too forced, or insincere, or too timid. Unnatural. After six whole sessions filled with constant bickering, even Daniel was already losing his patience.

“I think that, maybeee, this is one of those cases when I should be alone in a soundbooth,” Josh said one day when it was increasingly obvious that their last session might end in a bloodbath. It was a legitimate suggestion, but they were already so used to recording the basics “live” to keep the sound natural and candid that his words just added more fuel to the fire. Danny just sighed, excused himself to take a leak and left the room. Sam opened another can of beer. Jake was livid. 

“Right Josh, but once we’re onstage, you won’t be able to crawl into a fucking soundbooth. What’s your plan? To sing it from your dressing room?”

They just didn’t get it. He was trying, really. But whenever he got to certain parts, certain words, certain notes, his throat constricted. He tried to explain it, multiple times, but even that fell flat, because how could he explain the meaning behind the words when he couldn’t open up about the feelings that inspired them. Only two people knew. One of them was not in the studio with them to support him, and the other one was seething, focused solely on the work they had to finish. At least Jake finally gave in and agreed to try it. 

Next day they played without Josh. They somehow managed to wrap up the instrumental part in just four hours. All it needed now was the closing guitar solo – already written – and, of course, the vocals. 

Josh arrived at the studio the next afternoon, outwardly calm and well rested, but still battling the same internal struggle. He holed up in the booth, put the headphones on, got ready, looked at the three faces behind the mixing console, and started singing. And it was a…disaster. Which subsequently led to a very loud and emotional verbal fight. 

“Just sing the fucking song, Josh! It’s not rocket science.” Jake really, really tried to stay calm and to stop himself from yelling, yet he failed miserably.

“Yeah, we don’t even know what the fuck it all means…,” Sam chimed in.

Jake cleared his throat, which made Sam roll his eyes in annoyance. Even now?

“...ok, so Jake here probably knows what it all means…”

“I do.”

“...’course you do, you fucker, but that’s not the point. Listen Josh, I understand that this is probably some kind of a confession or something, but could you just pull your head, or whatever else is there, out of your ass and…”

Sam knew he had crossed the line even before the bottle, previously resting in Josh’s hand, shattered against the wall right behind him,  just a few feet to his left. Josh stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him with a deafening blow. He didn’t return that day. Or the next. 

……………………

For several days, they barely spoke to one another. Then, one Tuesday night, during one of those early spring storms, Josh found himself sitting in an armchair in his dark, unlit room. Ha had spent the last two hours listening to the rain drumming on the tiles of his patio outside the sliding glass doors, trying to figure out what to do and how to find a solution to this “precarious situation”. No song was worth risking the relationship with his brothers. They had found themselves in similar situations many times before, but the current radio silence was a bit concerning. He knew what the song needed – the feral energy he hardly ever failed to muster onstage. See, Jake was wrong about this. He could imagine himself singing this song live just fine. This had somehow never been an issue in front of the audience. The untamed energy of thousands of adoring people often let him open to them, and to the world, with unaffected pleasure. He let them listen to him, to see him…to touch him…  And suddenly, he got an idea. 

……………………

Sam wasn’t sleeping yet, but seeing his brother’s name on a lit up phone screen annoyed the shit out of him all the same. 

“What?!” 

It was late, and he wasn’t in the mood to talk…to Josh, he certainly didn’t want to go out for a drink…with Josh, AND the very last thing he wanted was to talk about the fucking song again… so Josh’s suggestion that they should meet in the studio asap just made him see red. 

“Are you fucking kidding me? The studio’s not booked and everyone’s asleep. It’s nearly midnight, Josh!”

“Yeah…exactly, umm… That means the studio would be free and empty now, right? I’m sure it can be arranged. I think I got it, Sam! I…ummm, found a way to finish the fucking song. I need to try this one thing and I need your help. Pleeeease. And…I’m really sorry, Sam.” “Ok,” he sighed exasperatedly. Sam, too, was sick of the current situation, and if Josh thought that a night session with just the two of them, free of Jake’s scrutiny, would help, so be it. “I just need to make some phone calls. Meet you there in…90 minutes?”

“Perfect! Thank you.”

……………………

Eleven hours later

It was already almost noon when Jake and Daniel finally arrived with the coffee. Sam was still sitting behind the mixing console, having tried to add some more finishing touches to the mix before he felt it was ready to be presented to the other two. 

“So, what’s up? Why did you summon us here at this ungodly hour, oh ye little brother? You look like shit, by the way.” 

Jake was an ass, but he was right. Sam felt absolutely exhausted. He had spent the whole night at the studio, his eyes were bloodshot and his head was pounding. He had no energy to argue, he was hungry, and really just wanted to crawl in his bed and spend the next two days there. Maybe three. But he needed them to hear it first. 

“Well, I still need to work on this a bit, and you will need to add the solo, obviously, but we managed to record all the vocal parts tonight and the raw mix already sounds pretty good. Sounds great, actually…even though the ending might be a bit…unconventional.” 

They both looked at him in disbelief, but accepted the offered seats and urged him to continue. “Ok, let’s hear it,” Jake breathed out as he leaned in his chair.

When they finished listening, Daniel looked like a parent that should be scolding a naughty kid, but couldn’t because he was just trying not to laugh. Jake’s expression was unreadable. After at least thirty more seconds of complete silence, he finally spoke, his voice unnaturally calm, which only meant the storm was coming.

“And what the flying fuck was that?!?”

“Well, I think it was Josh sounding like…,” Daniel piped in, his voice muffled by his own hand. 

“I know fucking well what it sounded like! He’s my twin AND we lived together. No…no…nonono.” Jake stood up and was now pacing the room. 

Sam expected this kind of reaction. He was ready for it and he was also desperate to defend what they just heard. Because, above all, it was great. It was what they wanted…

“No, Sam, I didn’t want this. We cannot possibly release this. How did you even…? Was he jerking off in that booth or what?”

“Um, no, Thomas was here, too…”

Daniel spit out his coffee, barely missing the console, and Jake …Jake just had to sit down again. As soon as Danny stopped coughing, he looked at Sam, bit his lip and burst into uncontrollable fits of laughter. “Oh my god…but…I agree with you Sam. It sounds fucking great,” he wheezed out, eyes still filled with tears. 

……………………

Nine hours earlier 

When Sam arrived at the studio, Josh…and Tom … were already there. It took them a little while to convince Sam not to turn on his heel and run back home after they had explained what they intended to do, but now they were all good and ready in their respective workplaces; Sam sat behind the mixing table, Josh and Tom crammed together in the small vocal booth, both already shirtless. 

“So, what do you want me to do?” Tom asked as he positioned himself right behind Josh. He felt a bit unsure still, but was willing to try his best. 

“You know the song, you know it’s yours. I am your instrument now. Play me.”

And he did. Sam dimmed the lights and told them to get ready. Josh was supposed to sing the whole song all in one take. They would try again if necessary, but this was the general idea. No pauses. Tom got his own set of headphones and as soon as they heard the initial chords, he hugged Josh’s bare torso, letting his hands roam free, caressing him gently. And Josh started singing. And it was beautiful. When the initial awkwardness subsided, Tom leaned into his role completely and started placing subtle kisses on his lover’s neck, which Josh translated into even more haunting sounds. 

When he was about to hit one particularly difficult high note, Tom grabbed him by the elbows, pulled his arms up and slowly ran his palms up Josh’s forearms until he reached the wrists, crossed them and held them tight, high above their heads. He circled his fingers around Josh’s pulse points, while Josh wailed into the microphone, his face contorted with all the intense emotions that he hid in the words he wrote. Now he finally let it all out. It was exhilarating. Twenty feet farther, separated from them by two walls, Sam punched the air in silent victory. 

The very first take was already more than good, but they tried three more times – just in case – Josh and Tom doing their intimate little dance within the confines of the small soundbooth. 

“Ok, I think we’re good, that was really wonderful, Josh…but, time to wrap it up,” Sam’s voice finally pierced through the intercom. 

Josh wasn’t so sure. True, it was almost three in the morning and they were all already beyond tired, but this was worth a shot. He might not have another opportunity like this and if it didn’t work, they could still use one of the previous takes. They were satisfactory, yes, but even though he finally managed to convey the contents of his mind with his voice, this song was a matter of the heart…and – let’s be completely honest – cock. He needed more stimulation. 

“Hey, Sam, do you think we could try the last chorus one more time?”

“Just the last chorus?” 

“Yeah”

“Ok, just let me go grab some munchies first. Be right back.” 

Tom was leaning against the booth wall with his arms crossed, watching Josh apprehensively. He yawned and tried a few neck circles to relieve his tense muscles. “So what’s your plan now?” 

Josh didn’t meet his gaze at first. He was looking at nothing in particular, toying with his goatee like he always did when he was deep in thought. When he finally looked at him, he spoke in a whisper, but it was a demand nevertheless. “I want you to suck my dick.” Tom’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “Josh, you can’t be serious. Sam’s here, and….your voice will shake. What’s the point?” 

“That’s exactly the point, Thomas. And Sam won’t be able to see you. Now come here, get ready,” he ordered as he pulled down his zipper.

By the time Samuel got back, Tom was already on his knees, crammed in a tight space between the front wall and Josh’s microphone, his hands clawing at Josh’s thighs and his mouth full. Josh was taking long, deep breaths, trying to be in control of the situation as they heard Sam’s voice through the intercom again. “Ok, Josh, I’m not playing the whole song again. We’re starting at 4:37. Ready?” “Yeah, ready, just leave it rolling till the end,” he breathed out. 

This was a new and exciting experience, and when he finished the last chorus and the bridge leading to the closing guitar solo part started playing, he could no longer control himself. Josh’s short, high pitched breathy moans filled the air during the bridge part and when they finally got to the rhythmic piano segment that served as a foundation for Jake’s – yet to be recorded – finishing solo and outro, he let out a long and melodic warcry and filled  Tom’s mouth with his warm seed. As requested, Sam was still recording.

……………………

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