#not even worth it for 25 bucks

[slender-wannabe]

man cutting back on the shower shifts has been so great. i get to sleep in on my week of afternoons and stay in bed with my bf until he gets up for work. and then it motivates me to go to the gym because i have to move my car for him to leave. best choice i've made for my mental health lately. 😌

[moinsbienquekaworu]

Btw I truly cannot wait for the Monster High G3 to be available in France the second I learn they're here I'm rushing to my nearest toy store and getting the Draculaura 13yo me always wanted

[grimrester]

i am really so sorry to continue harping on about the watcher entertainment streaming service. but this kind of stuff (internet content as a business & marketing it as such) is truly my obsession, and i think i will implode if i don't talk about some of the takes i'm seeing.

i'd like to emphasize again i don't have strong feelings about watcher either way. i like ghost files, i watch mystery files sometimes, i watched worth it back in the buzzfeed days. i don't watch any of their shows religiously.

anyway, here's the main things i keep seeing crop up and my thoughts on each:

"watcher has 25 employees they have to pay, and employing people in this economy is good, so we should be banding together to pay them."

employing people is good if you currently have the capacity to pay them. i checked watcher's linkedin page, and many of their employees were hired within the last year or two. if they hired people they cannot pay with the business model they had before, something is seriously wrong with their internal bookkeeping/decision making. it means they either didn't know they couldn't pay these people long term, or they did know and were content with risking newly hired employees' livelihoods on a huge content pivot in the next year.

of note is that none of their employees' titles have anything to do with managing the finances of the company. they are the size of a small business but have no one aside from the figureheads of the company in charge of their finances.

this is the kind of company decision making that leads to downsizing and layoffs, which can be devastating. but you know what's worse than laying off a portion of your staff? laying off everyone because your business is going under.

"not everyone can afford the subscription, but those who can should pay it to support the watcher team."

no. $6/month for a couple hours of content (depending on what shows you actively watch and the natural fluctuation of their release schedule) is a fundamentally bad value. i can pay that much for a few movies on amazon. i can pay that much for dropout, if i want to support a smaller business instead.

and to be totally frank, even if people do sign up, i don't think they'd get enough to compete with the amount they get through patreon/sponsorships. and the fact that they didn't know how many of their subscribers would realistically sign up is a bad sign.

a pretty good conversion rate of free to paid subscribers of a service or content is 3% (usually accomplished through a free trial). given the very poor reception of the announcement, let's say about 1% of their 3 mil youtube subs pay for their service. that's 30k people paying for their new platform. that's $180k a month in their pocket.

(they currently only have 12k subs on patreon so we are being generous here.)

a sponsorship deal (based on my googling, i have less direct experience with this) is anywhere from $10-50 per 1000 views. they've gotten about 1 mil views on their last few videos. 3 mil subs is nothing to shake a stick at, but let's say they're on the lower end of the payscale at $25 per 1000 views. that's $25k a video, $100k a month if they release 1 video a week. their lowest patreon tier is 5 bucks, so even if all their subs are at that tier, that's another $60k, so $160k total. it's entirely likely they're bringing in much more than that when you factor in merch, adsence, etc.

did anyone on their team crunch numbers on how many people would need to sub to make the switch worth it? did anyone do market research on how many people they could convert to paid users? because if not, if they really didn't have a game plan for this, the subscription service was always doomed to fail.

"this was their only option to continue making the content they want to make, with the production value they want."

i watched their announcement video. a key point in that video is that they have done sponsored videos and that's what used to pay for their content, but they did not like the amount of creative control the sponsor had over the content.

look, i get that's no fun. we'd all love creatives to be able to make whatever they want. but when you are a small business with a team of employees relying on you, you have to think about making money, sometimes at the cost of creative liberties.

and they had so many other options to make money for the projects they want to make without jumping to a subscription platform.

they could have started actually promoting their patreon, and maybe done some restructuring of the tiers. why not a highly produced, special series just for patreon members? or a special high-budget episode of each series, while the main series is lower budget?

bite the bullet and continue taking sponsorship deals on some less-produced shows, while axing sponsorships from the ones the crew feels more passionate about.

schedule larger, blowout-production shows only when they can be afforded. this is what Notorious Amongus Guy streamer jerma does. he saves up for big productions like his baseball or dollhouse streams, so he can really get creative with them.

they had other options and they've tried very little, especially when you compare them to other content house business at similar scales. try guys and good mythical morning both put out significant content with significant staff, and have had to diversify their income streams with auxiliary products, shows with widely varied levels of production, etc. but it seems to be working for them. watcher has merch and that's about it, and seems to only want to increase the production quality of ALL their shows.

really, all this just boils down to a terrible business decision. it's hard to say if the watcher team is working with a consultant or anyone outside of their team, but they certainly don't have anyone internally who is experienced with running a business like this. to me, it seems very much like they got in a room together and did some extremely optimistic income ballparking with no research behind it.

and that might have been fine for three dudes running a channel alone, but if they're a business, they have to start making decisions like one.

[foone]

You know what I hate about modern mice? how pointlessly anti-repair they are. I have had plenty of mice break over time, and often it's just that some fluff or skin-flakes got wedged in the mouse wheel or under the buttons. You just need to open them up and clean them. Except.. where are the screws?

OH THERE THEY ARE. under the little skid-pads, which cannot be put back on once you take them off, because the adhesive has been ruined! You have to buy replacement pads, if they're available, and maybe cut them down to size, as well as clean off the residue of the previous pads.

You know how this problem could be fixed? JUST DON'T PUT THE PADS ON TOP OF THE SCREWS!

Then you'd have no problem. Easy to disassemble and clean.

But then it'd look 5% uglier because apparently people are scared of seeing screws, and also people might not just throw it out and buy a new one!

It's the terrible sort of weird planned obsolescence that happens as an almost accidental side effect of improving the product. Like, ball mice? They were designed to be disassembled. You didn't even need a screwdriver! Because you had to clean them regularly, or they'd gunk up too fast. Modern optical mice? They still get gunked up, the buttons and wheel still die eventually. They can be cleaned and repaired. But now that it's not required for all of them to be cleaned regularly, that function has been removed. they're designed to be disposable.

The same thing happened with TVs way back when. If you open up a TV from the 50s (or just look at the back, honestly, many of them were designed to be always-open), you'll find a schematic showing where all the tubes are and what models they are. Was this because the 1950s was a golden era of reparability? NO! it's because they burnt out all the time and you had to replace them! As soon as TVs got reliable enough that replacing tubes was no longer needed, the schematics became hidden behind paywalls and for authorized-service-personnel-only.

It would be only a minor change in aesthetics to make your mouse repairable/cleanable. Hell, most of the time when it's not simply fixed by cleaning it, it's because one of these broke:

This is an Omron D2FC-F-7N microswitch, used in a bunch of mice. It's designed to last about a million clicks. With a soldering iron and some solder (like 25$ on amazon) you can trivially replace it. New switches cost between like 10 cents and 2 dollars, depending where you buy it and how many you want. A couple bucks of parts and half an hour's worth of work, you can repair a 40$ mouse that's "died".

But they make it unnecessarily hard with the slide-pads being unreplacable. You have to find ones that match, you have to carefully clean off the old residue with IPA, or the new ones you just bought will fall off. All to make it look SLIGHTLY better (how often are you looking at the aesthetics of the bottom of your mouse, exactly? (no furries are allowed to answer this question!)) and maybe, just maybe, to push it over into "not worth it". You could do all that, but you have to buy new switches, new slide-pads/mouse-feet (SHUT UP FURRIES), and can you remember where your solder even is? you last used it when you were trying to fix that keyboard...

Basically one thing that is maddening to anyone with the very basics of electronic knowledge (seriously: the amount of skill you need for this is the kind you can get in less than an hour from watching a youtube tutorial) that we're surrounded by all this electrical nonsense that will break and have to be thrown out, but is mostly breaking in ways that could be fixed in a very short amount of time with relatively little work.

It's infuriating to go on amazon to buy another damn mouse and it pop up "hey you last bought this in 2021, you fool" and you're like I KNOW, IT SHOULD STILL BE WORKING TODAY!

I have computer parts from the 80s in my room right now that are still working when stuff made in the last 5 years is already dying! There's no reason it should be this way. It's an endless waste of time and money and resources and it's just to make some logitech or whoever executives slightly richer.

It's deeply bullshit. The modern day is going to be identifiable as the geological layer where most of the trash was generated. We're living in the middle of the quisquiliarumferous period: the layer of garbage.

[disgustingtwitches]

**MDNI**

"The closest to heaven we'll ever get"

Saw a lot of stuff about Simon helping out a s*x worker. Anyways, it reminded me of a personal experience I had so... Here I am 😃

5.5k words

*This is kind of Simon needing company and being a weirdo who needs constant validation.

Not gonna lie, it gets blasphemous at the end!

~

I always played around with the idea of being an escort. I was offered to do things while working in the strip club, but I always turned it down. I was spending every dollar I made because I could always make more, right? But when I broke up with my ex and realized I didn't have the credit or rental history to get my own place, I started panicking. The only option was to put down at least three months rent cash upfront, to even be considered. Suddenly, money was drying up at the club for me, my regulars were being whisked away by girls who would do more for less. I couldn't really get mad, it's just a part of the game really. So I knew what needed to be done.

I hit up one of my girlfriends and told her that I needed the extra cash and what I was willing to do for it. She helped me set up a website, took professional photos of me, made me business cards. The whole nine yards. Now all I had to do was wait. About a week in, I finally get my first client. It was awkward and surprisingly, both of our first times in this situation. I was sent back home in a black car and a few hundred bucks richer for just 30 minutes of my time. I felt a rush I never felt before.

As the months rolled by, the money came. Luxury was the new standard for me. Designer everything, nice dinners, even nicer dates. To my surprise a majority of my clientele were, at most, 10 years older than me, and even more surprisingly, good looking. Finance bros, guys with daddy's money, or just men who had the money to spare. They always talked about how it was more fun and less work to hire me than get a girlfriend. To get a pretty girl in their arm to parade around that wouldn't bicker and give them a hard time at the end of the night. No feelings attached, just company and good sex.

So here I am Saturday night. Instead of going out to the club like a normal woman my age in Manhattan should be doing. I am in my hotel. Waiting for a call or text from someone. Anybody. My hair in rollers, makeup half done. Just waiting. My phone lights up, a text coming in:

Hi, Gia. Was interested in spending an hour with you tonight, 11pm.

I smiled to myself. Finally, someone who reads my ad properly. Follows the instructions on what to text to me. Straight to the point.

Wonderful, just need a picture of your ID or passport.

I reply. Always a rule my girlfriend drilled into my head. Safety first. If they don't do it, then what could they be planning? Anything goes bad and all you have is a name that couldn't even be real. Any client worth your time understands your safety is a priority. So this was my way of feeling safer. A moment passes before my phone dings again.

A picture of a passport, full name and age. Along with a picture. He's cute. A little older than what I usually get but I'm not complaining. I quickly look him up, nothing out of the ordinary. Good.

Great. Thank you, Simon. I'll send an address for you to send a car at 10:20. Reach out to you then❤️

Before I start to get ready he texts,

Wear something casual.

Not an odd request. Actually most clients prefer it. Want more of a girlfriend vibe rather than an escort. I finished getting ready, helping myself to a glass of wine. Playing my usual bad bitch songs, it helped me turn into the woman I needed to be- from me to Gia.

10:25 rolls around. I get a screenshot of the Uber from him. 5 minutes out. I grab my purse and strut out of my hotel, to a nearby park. Never give your real address. Always make sure you're not being followed.

A black SUV pulls up, I slide in. Exchange pleasantries with the driver and I'm off. Headed to midtown. I share my location with a friend and how long I should be gone. My phone goes off.

Walk into the building and head to the elevators on the left. 36th floor. Apt. 4A.

I nod to myself before shooting a text of confirmation.

Got it. See you soon ;)

I pull up to the building, it's huge. Nicer than most places I've been. He must have some serious cash. I walk into the building and follow the directions he gave me. A little adrenaline rushes through me as I walk up to the door, always did when meeting someone new. I knock. He almost immediately opens the door, as if he was standing in front of it. Waiting.

Simon!

I say with a wide smile. He steps aside as I walk in, looking around. Nice place. Really nice place. Ceiling to floor windows, minimalist decor, the lovely smell of something masculine and expensive. He looks me up and down as I turn to him.

You look just like your pictures.

His voice is deep, alluring, unreadable. Sends a chill up my thighs that shoots straight to my core.

You do too.

I reply playfully. A small twitch plays at the corner of his mouth before disappearing. His face inscrutable. I shimmy off my coat before he takes it, hanging it up in a closet near the entrance. I wait for him to move. He stands, hands in his pockets, studying me. An awkward minute passes before he walks to the living room. I follow.

Really nice place you got here.

I try to make the moment more comfortable.

Hm.

He responds. He wasn't like the other men I've seen before. They are sociable, or at least try to be. I take a seat on the couch next to him, our knees barely touching.

Money's there.

He gestures to an envelope on the table. I nod, grabbing it.

Do you mind if I...?

I ask, opening it up. He nods and stands to pour himself a drink. My eyes widen. This is more than my usual rate. Much more. I'm quiet, trying not to show my shock.

Was hoping to do an overnight, if that's alright.

It was less of a question and more of a statement from him. It was more than enough for a night. I nodded.

Of course, I do wish you would've told me; I would've packed a bag.

I smiled, putting the envelope down on the table. I grab my phone and update my friend on how long I'd be gone for. I put away the phone quickly and look up at him. God, was he hot. And the way he carried himself made him even hotter, so nonchalant. He shrugged, sipping his drink before sitting next to me again, some space between us.

How long you been doing this?

He stares at me, gaze so intense I squirm a little.

Just a few months.

We're quiet again. Usually I try to carry a conversation if the other party can't hold one, but he makes me nervous. I talk again, asking mundane questions. It's like pulling teeth trying to have small talk with him. Maybe he's just not much of a talker.

I scoot closer to him, our knees barely touching. He puts his drink down, and rests his arms on the back of the couch. I lean in closer to him, resting my hand on his thigh before kissing his lips. He kisses back softly. We exchange light, almost timid kisses for awhile. He finally moves. A hand reaching up to grab at my hair, gently pulling. I moan faintly and that seems to set him off. He grabs me by the throat, not hard, just enough to stand me up and guide me to his bedroom; our kisses getting more intense. We strip each other of our clothes. I unbuckle his pants and pull them down, it feels like I'm opening a gift on Christmas. He's big. I smile up at him. He just looks down vacantly. I pull down his boxers and his erection springs up, tip drooling. He opens a drawer next to the bed, pulling out a condom and rolling it on himself.

Lay back.

He commands. I obey, opening my legs. I've done this so many times before, but this time it's different. As unceremoniously as he's treating this, I can't be more excited. His body is amazing, tattoos and scars just adding to the mysterious aura. His natural scent drives me wild. I look up to him as he crawls over me, lining himself up with me. He gives a couple lazy slaps on my slick. I take a sharp breath. He watches as he slides himself in, I tense up. Most guys are well... average. And he's well... much more than that.

Relax.

He huffs. Sliding himself in more, not giving me any time to adjust. I grip the bedsheets, clenching my jaw. I stare up at him, he doesn't even look at me. His face emotionless as he watches himself slide in and out. I try to unclench, opening myself up more to him.

Mhm...

He grunts. My nipples harden at his voice. I moan as he slams into my cervix repeatedly. It makes him shoot his eyes up at me, glaring into mine. His eyes dark pools, intense. He roughly hooks his arms under my knees, pushing them up to my chest. He digs even deeper into me as I whimper. He takes quick, shallow breaths.

You're so deep.

I say panting, the breath getting knocked out of me. I reach out to touch his muscular arms. He grunts and pounds harder into me. I throw my head back, whining. Trying to not wince in pain. He slows for a moment, pulling back, keeping my legs on his shoulders as he slides in and out. My breasts bounce up and down with each thrust.

You're hot.

A hint of emotion in his voice, he reaches down to knead my chest. My face gets hot. I tighten around him.

Fuck...

He makes a sound that almost resembles a moan. I smile up at him, almost proud of making him show any emotion. He looks down at me, a flicker in his eyes, a small smirk on his face that leaves as quickly as it came. He parts my legs and rubs at my clit in rough circles. I squirm under him.

Say my name.

He orders. His strokes picking up as I get used to him.

Simon~

As soon as his name leaves my lips, a deep rumble from his chest fills my ears. He leans over me, arms on either side of my head. I reach up to run my hands up and down the back of his neck.

Say you love me.

His request takes me aback. I pull him closer, my lips just under his ear.

I love you~

He immediately tenses up and takes a heavy breath. I could feel him twitch inside me as he finishes. He pulls away quickly, going to the bathroom to throw out the condom and clean up. He brings back a wet towel, wiping me down.

What's your name?

His tone as flat as ever.

Gia.

I responded. I know what he's actually asking me. Never, ever tell a trick your real name. Hell, he shouldn't even know your real age.

You know what I mean.

He glares at me. I shift awkwardly. Don't do it. He doesn't say a word, just stares in a way that makes me uncomfortable. Why should he know your real name anyways? I tell him my name. Stupid. Fucking dumbass. I kick myself. He nods and slides into some sweats, throwing me his shirt.

Let's watch something.

I throw on his shirt. Now this is what I'm used to. Being a temporary girlfriend. Pretending to be affectionate. Giving much needed companionship. He splays out on the couch as I lay on top of him. He turns on the TV, resting a hand on my ass and squeezing it. Maybe this is why he hires girls. Because of how distant he is. The man can't even hold a conversation. He flicks on some show he was in the middle of, a business dramedy that I couldn't care less about. I rest my head on his chest and he runs his fingers through my hair. We're like this for a while, quiet.

Tell me you love me.

He says dryly, looking down at me. I look up and kiss him.

I love you, Simon.

He gets hard immediately, rubbing himself on me. He gets up, lifting me up effortlessly, and throws me on the bed. He lays on top of me, pinning me down onto the bed. Kissing me much more passionately this time, like he was trying to taste every inch of my mouth.

Keep saying it.

His voice gruff. He moves his kisses down to my neck, pawing at my bust.

I love you, Simon.

I moan. I wanted him so badly. I don't care how I got him, I just wanted to take him. Something about him made me go crazy, deep inside. He yanks up the shirt I was wearing, moving his kisses more and more south.

You fuck other people raw?

I shake my head. I might've been a whore, but I wasn't reckless.

Never.

He nods.

Can I eat you out?

I look down at him. Something about seeing him between my legs makes me wanna say yes. The way his eyes looks almost as if he's pleading, desperate. No way. Never do that.

Yes.

I allow him to keep going. What the fuck am I doing? Why am I allowing this? Before I can think more, he plunges his tongue between my lips. Lapping up desperately, burying his face into me. I roll my eyes back, running my fingers through his hair.

I love you, Simon.

I gasp. It's the only thing he wanted me to say. I saw something in him, the way he reacted when I said that, it made me want to stay in his place forever. To never leave. Make him happy. It's just the good head talking, you'll snap back to your senses afterwards. He moans so quietly I can barely hear it. Barely. My legs on his shoulders, his arms wrapped around my thighs. Digging fingers into the soft flesh. He sucks on my nub repeatedly. It's a tortuously delicious feeling. I grip his hair a little.

I love you, Simon.

I look down at him, watching him devour me. He looks up at me, his eyes showing an emotion I can't decipher. He moves one hand down to slide two fingers into me.

I love you, Simon.

I moan, throwing my head back and smiling.

Hmm...

He mumbled into my heat. Pumping in and out before bending his fingers in a way that presses against my sweet spot. I hiss, pleasure flashing through me like a strobe light. I'm dripping wet. He pulls his fingers out and plunges his tongue into my entrance, trying to suck out every drop of my juices.

You taste good.

Voice as flat as ever, as if he isn't lost in between my folds. He drags his tongue up between my lips, from my entrance to my nub again. He slips his fingers in again, pressing up against my sweet spot repeatedly. I get lost in the feeling. God I could stay like this forever. He looks up at me, like he's looking for validation.

I love you, Simon~

I slip out between heavy breaths. He picks up the pace of his fingers and tongue. My face gets hot as I get closer, grip his hair a little harder. He goes even faster, harder, almost feverant. I roll my eyes back, panting. I whimper before crying out, tightening around his fingers in a vice grip.

I love you, Simon~

I force the words from my throat as I spasm under him. He continues, seemingly determined to draw another climax out of me. I mewled, trying to push his head away. He was unmoving for an unbearable moment. The only sounds were my pants and his slurping.

I love you, Simon.

I wailed, almost hoping it'll make him stop. He does thankfully. He pulls away, tearing off his sweats, beating off himself. Staring at me, his gaze is intense as ever. He grabs me by the thighs and drags me into his lap. He continues to stroke himself, staring into my wet core as if he was hypnotized by it.

Can I...

He starts, almost knowing he shouldn't ask the question.

Can I fuck you raw?

His voice is uncharacteristically soft and unsure. I blink at him, mind racing. ABORT! ABORT! THIS IS LIKE RULE #1 IN HOE-ING!!! He looked so delicious from this angle, his eyes still glued on my wetness. ARE YOU INSANE?? NO!! His throbbing, beautiful dick is twitching.

...yes.

I nod. You're the dumbest person on the planet. I insult myself a million different ways in my head. A brief moment of regret is replaced with pleasure as he slides his tip teasingly in and out of me. His jaw clenches, chest rising and falling faster. His voice cracks as a moan escapes him, his eyebrows furrow.

I love you, Simon.

I stare at him, eyes half lidded. The smallest smile spreads across his face, still looking at himself entering me. He inches his way in. Pulling in and out, going deeper each time. I squeeze him, make him bite his lip.

That's good.

He stated, voice quavering. He clears his throat before grabbing one leg and lifting it to my chest, digging deep into me. I take a sharp breath in. He hovers over me, arms on either side of my head again. He slides in and out, slowly at first then picking up to a punishing pace. I whimper and wiggle under him. He grabs my face, forcing me to look into his eyes that bore into mine.

I love you, Simon.

I stare right back at him, passion shooting right out of my eyes. His eyes flutter for a moment before blinking back into his cold, unnerving self. He continues to dig himself into me, slamming and grinding himself into the deepest parts of me. It's a painfully addicting feeling. I take his hand and press it up against my lower stomach so he can feel how much he fills me. He clenches his jaw so hard, it looks like his head could pop.

I love you, Simon.

I whisper. He drops down on top of me, snaking his arms around and behind my back to grab my ass. His mouth right next to my ear, I can hear his fast and shallow breaths. Little groans that slip out every now and then. I wrap my arms around his neck, holding him tighter.

I love you, Simon.

I hear him groan under me as I said it again. He goes faster than before, pretty much jackhammering me into the mattress. My mouth is agape and head thrown back. Only grunts escape my throat as I get fucked senseless.

Mhm...like that?

His words bounce around in my empty head. I replay it in my head over and over until I clench around him, he doesn't stop though. It only seems to spur him on even more. His warm breath tickling my ear as it gets more ragged.

Keep saying it.

He demands through gritted teeth.

Fuck... I love you, Simon.

I squeak out the words. He huffs and continues to rampage my body.

Can I come inside you?

He asks- No, begs. No use in turning back now. Just the thought made me close again.

Yes.

I nod and he breathes harder and harder until he pleads in a strained voice,

Say it.

I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside me.

I love you, Simon~

He spills inside me. His stammered breaths and moans driving me crazy. The feeling of him pumping into me driving me over the edge. I pull him closer, practically squeezing him.

I love you, Simon.

I tenderly kiss the top of his head as he nuzzles into my neck.

How often do you do this?

My head clears, a wave of regret coming over me.

Never. I never even hired anyone before you.

He says in a way so sincere I honestly believe him. How do you know when a trick is lying? Their mouth is open. Rules. Rules to live by, to be able to survive doing what I do. Rules. They all meant nothing as soon as I laid eyes on him. Somehow saw this coming a mile away in the back of my head. He pulled away from my grasp, disappointment flooded me. He leaned back, opening my legs: watching both of our cum dripping out of me.

Say it.

His eyes so focused, as if he were trying to take a picture with his mind; so he would never forget this moment.

I love you, Simon.

I say with a tender smile. His dick jumps. Good lord is this man insatiable. He stands up and does the same routine as before, cleaning himself up and then me. He hands me his shirt:

Here.

I throw it on and he leads me to the bathroom, grabbing me by the shoulders and making me face the mirror. He gently pushes my back, I lean my elbows on the countertop. I stand on the balls of my feet, trying to get my hips to meet his. As I look in the mirror, his face looks almost tender watching me sway my hips.

I love you, Simon~

I sing softly. He bites his lip, entering me again. God, I never get used to the feeling. He grabs my hips and pulls me onto him, he bottoms me out. Groaning louder this time, he pulls my hair back so I'm looking directly at the mirror, locking eyes with him.

S'it, pretty girl...

A corner of his mouth upturned just enough to know he's enjoying himself. His words make me flutter around him. He groans and starts to pound into me. The bathroom is filled with the duet of our breaths and groans. He pulls my hair so my back is pressed against his chest. He rests a hand on my throat, squeezing just enough. Moves his lips to my neck, still sliding in and out of me.

You love me? Huh?

He grunts, warm breath on the pulse of my neck.

I love you. So much.

I moaned. I repeated the phrase so many times, it started coming out of my mouth naturally. He moved his hand from my hair to my lower stomach, pressing against it so he could feel himself hitting my walls.

You love this dick, yeah? Say it.

His voice getting more demanding and urgent. I nod and look at him through the mirror, smiling.

I love it, I love this dick so much, Simon~

He nips at my neck as he continues to fuck me. His nips turn into bites. Bites that definitely leave marks. I didn't care, that didn't matter right now.

You're never fucking leaving, you know that?

A threat that sounded like heaven to me. He could keep me chained to the bed and I wouldn't care, just as long as he kept fucking me like this. I giggled with excitement.

You like that, hm?

He smiles against my skin before continuing to lick and bite my neck.

I love it~

I truly did. It felt heavenly. Better than anyone I've ever had. Ever. Something felt so familiar about his touch. As if I belonged there.

I love you, Simon~

At this point I feel like I'm reciting a prayer, the words flowing out of me like a stream. I was melting in his arms.

Turn around, wanna see that pretty face.

I did so eagerly as he lifted me up on the counter and slid inside me. I smirked up at him. He, as always, was watching himself impale me.

Looks so pretty...

He seemingly mumbled to himself. He leaned down and pressed our foreheads together, a firm hand on the back of my head. Hitting a spot so deep inside me I never knew I had. We were like this for a long minute, sloppy sounds of our sex bouncing off the walls.

I love you, Simon.

I stared into his eyes. They seem to soften for a moment before he tightened the grip on the back of my neck. A huff, and then he came undone. He stayed inside me until he was soft. He pulls out and pushes his fingers into my cunt, stuffing his seed back into me.

Hm.

He grunts in a way that sounds like approval before helping me off the counter. He leads me to bed and slips under the covers.

In my arms.

Commanding as he usually does. I press my head against his chest, his heart beating hard and fast. He wraps an arm around me, his touch much gentler than before. I fall asleep. Not too sure if he does too.

Morning comes and I'm woken up by the sun shining in my face. Sitting up, I'm in his bed, still wearing his shirt. Alone. I walk out to the living room and see him setting up breakfast on the coffee table.

You made this?

I question, surprised.

Ordered it. Good morning.

He turns to me, shoving his hands in his pockets. He looks at me expectantly. I blink at him.

Good morning.

I say. He looks at me as if he was anticipating something else. I think for a moment before suddenly remembering.

I love you, Simon.

He steps to the side, inviting me to sit on the couch. I help myself to a seat and look at the plate in front of me. It's simple, French toast and eggs. I help myself.

Are you gonna eat anything?

I look at him quizzically. He shakes his head, staring like always. We're silent as I finish my plate. I grab my phone and check the time. Almost time for me to leave.

Can I book you for longer?

His voice is gruff. An underlying tone, pleading?

It'll be expensive.

I didn't want to say that. Wanted to say I'll stay as long as he likes. But I already made too many mistakes. Gotta get back on track.

I don't care.

Of course he didn't. He could probably buy me out for the rest of my life if he wanted to. He pulled out his phone, asking for my personal number so he could send the money straight to my bank account. Hesitantly I gave it to him. He probably could find out that stuff if he wanted to anyways. My phone dings, I check my bank app. My eyes pop out of my head. I look up at him bewildered.

How long would that get me?

He asks, as if he didn't send me an ungodly amount of money.

It's enough for a whole week...

Shock still overwhelming me.

You wanna stay that long?

He doesn't really ask. He knows I'll say yes. Doesn't even wait for my answer.

I'll let you get your things.

He throws some of his clothes my way and sends me back in a car to the hotel. I grab my bags and checkout. Is this really happening? A call from my girlfriend. I tell her about his extension. She says something about making sure he's not a serial killer. We laugh, tells me to have fun, don't fall in love. I scoff as if that was the stupidest idea I've heard. As soon as I know it I'm back at his place, he's grabbing bags from me, setting them to the side. Turning to me and running a hand up the side of my waist.

I love you, Simon.

We spend the whole week tangled up in each other. Taking a break before I say those four words and he has me pinned against a wall or over a dresser or kitchen counter. Any flat surface, really.

It's Saturday night and we're showering, cleaning off sweat and other bodily fluids from each other. His touch is so gentle, handling me like I was a piece of china. He liked me. It was obvious. Seemed like the only way he knew how to show it was by fucking me, though. I liked him too. Maybe not to the extent he did.

Seemed like he found something he needed for a long time. He was hungry. Famished. He couldn't just let go of me. He's not satiated yet. Don't know if he'll ever be. It was a looming feeling. Dark and heavy. A little scary. But it made me feel more desired than I've ever been before. And not just a carnal desire. It made me feel coveted.

We're laid up on his couch. Watching the show I didn't care for before, a little more invested. My phone lights up, buzzing. The name of a regular of mine across the screen in big bold letters. This is usually the time of the month he calls to set up a date. A reminder that this is all temporary. I let it go to voicemail. He tenses up. Jealousy and disappointment radiating off him.

How much for the whole month?

He doesn't even let me think of an answer before speaking again.

How much to make you quit for good?

I'm a little shook, sure I've heard it a dozen times before. Always said in jest. But he's serious. The few words he said, he always seemed to mean. No need to waste his breath beating around the bush. My heart races. I can feel his pound against mine. A number doesn't come to my head.

Let's just see how this goes.

He doesn't like that answer. He wants something solid. A promise that I'll never leave. More than a promise. But that's as good as he can get right now. There's a tense silence between us.

I love you, Simon.

The only thing I can think of saying right now. He takes hold of me, climbing into the bed and sits me in his lap. His back against the headboard.

C'mon love.

He says frigid. An underlying tone of disappointment and hurt. I slide myself down on him, a little more adjusted to his size now. He wraps strong arms around my waist, pulling me so close it seems like he wants to coalesce into my very being.

Give me a number.

A demand that seems more like a plea. We hold each other. Unmoving as he is still buried deep inside me.

Maybe it is a little toxic to spiral into the addiction to fast money. Maybe I'm a little sick of pretending to be the perfect woman. Maybe it is a little exhausting to be a fantasy and nothing more. Maybe it is a little lonely when it's just me lying in bed, when I have to comfort others. Where's my comfort in all of this? Where's my happiness in all of this? No more fake smiles. No more fake orgasms. No more fake feelings. I don't care if he's lying. I want to indulge in delusion. Even for a moment.

Ok.

I give in. He leans over, placing me on my back before adjusting himself on top of me. Touches my face, his showing an emotion that is genuine and staggering. Devotion? It feels like it.

I could almost cry, the way he takes me like I'm his. The way he talks to me like I'm not someone he hired. That didn't matter anymore. I wasn't an escort to him. I was his girl. The sex was different. Transcendant. Divine. Did I know I wanted to be saved? Of course I didn't know; for the life of sin and suffering is simply a thing to toil in until you are shown salvation. Every time he came, he baptized me. I was born again in his eyes, I was perfect and clean. Absolved of my sins.

He looked at me with so much adoration. I looked up at him, much in the same way Magdalene did to her Redeemer. He had turned a prostitute into a Saint. The unshakeable feeling of deliverance washed over as he touched me, no longer a leper. I was saved by him. His body. His sweat. His seed. Akin to taking Communion. The closest to heaven we'll ever get.

[sansaorgana]

omg I literally came across your work today and it was so awesome!!!! I was wondering if you’d be comfortable writing a more dominant buck cleven with his young wife and then another one which is buck cleven meeting a young girl and their love story with the the war timeline super cute fluff.

Of course it us up to you if you want to do it. But i just wanted to say how mych i love your work and i look forward to seeing more!! ❤️😊❤️😊❤️😊

hey, love! 💐 so, I googled Buck's age and apparently he was quite young during the war. because of Austin, I thought that he was like in his 30s. but apparently he was born in 1918, so he was only like 25 in 1943. and I'm not very comfy with writing readers who are "barely legal" in age gap relationships, so I didn't focus much on reader's age here. I mean, even if she's his age, then she's still a young girl 😂

this fic takes place after the war and they are married. Buck works at some military base idk it's not really mentioned nor important lol. he's rougher here than in the previous one but not very rough either because I think he's overall a softie for his girl 🤭 Buck and reader are in a traditional marriage 🥧

when it comes to the second idea with the war timeline, it's like a multichapter fic idea and I am not in the right headspace to write something so long at the moment. I am sorry, boo 🥺

my inbox is open for blurb/short fic requests for major cleven 🤗

🔞 THIS FIC IS 18+ 🔞

Being married to Buck Cleven was a dream come true and you just wanted to make everything right. You would wake up an hour before him to put your make up on, get dressed in a cute dress and an apron, to take out the curlers out of your hair. And to prepare him a warm breakfast that would be ready when he is awake. You were helping Buck to get ready for work and then you would go grocery shopping. Then you would clean the house and cook dinner. In the meantime the dog your husband had brought from the war – Meatball – required some of your attention as well. He had to be fed and wanted to go out on a long walk once a day. He was a Husky so running around the garden was not enough for him.

It wasn't as easy to be a housewife as some women pictured it. It wasn't as peaceful and calm and relaxing. But it was worth everything. Your husband's smile and kisses on the cheek. You just wanted to make him happy. It was like you were infected with the affection because making him happy was everything that mattered. You never wanted him to complain or start looking for fun outside the house. You wanted to be his everything as much as he was yours.

And today you decided to bake him a pie. It was Friday and he had a long and stressful week. You wanted to make him a sweet and sour cherry pie to show him how much you loved and appreciated him. But everything seemed to go wrong with it. You were slow on that day and your first try was a disaster. You had to throw it away and start all over again, angry at yourself. Your cheeks and nose were stained with flour and your hands were red from the cherries' juice. You were so frustrated, you didn't notice what time it had already been.

You were so focused on kneading the dough that you didn't hear the sound of the car parking outside. Perhaps you did but you thought it was the neighbor. There was no reason why your husband would be home so early, right?

It wasn't early at all, though. It was exactly the same time when Buck would come back home every day. And he was surprised not to see you standing behind the window and waiting for him with a soft smile. It made him worry a little.

And then he walked inside the house and didn't see you in the corridor to take his jacket and give him a kiss. That was more than unusual indeed. He looked around and sighed before taking the jacket off on his own and hanging it on the wall. It didn't feel the same without your soft fingers helping him and your sweet lips asking him about his day. He missed your eyes sparkling at the sight of him, your loving smile, your lovely scent. Your warm lips on his cheek, staining it slightly with a cherry red lipstick. God, he was crazy about you.

"Baby?" he asked in a soft voice. The very first place he checked was the kitchen and there you were, working passionately on something on the counter in front of you. He was facing your back so he had no idea what it could be. "Baby?" he asked once again and you jumped a little at the sound.

Your heart pounded in your chest. You got scared by your husband's voice but you also were scared that he was back so soon. You took a quick glance at the clock on the wall and swallowed thickly. Yes, it made perfect sense that he was home already. And you didn't have the pie ready yet.

Hell, you didn't even have the dinner ready at all!

"Oh, Buck!" you sobbed and turned around. He furrowed his brows at that sudden outburst and your face stained with flour. Then he noticed your red hands.

"Is everything alright, sweetheart?" he hurried to your side and grabbed your wrists. "What's going on? Is that blood?"

"Hm? What? No, no," you sniffed. "It's cherries," you explained and he sighed with relief. "I wanted to make you a cherry pie. But I'm slow today and I ruined the first one. I wanted to make it again, I lost the track of time… I didn't prepare dinner either… Oh goodness, I am the worst wife ever. You must regret marrying me. I'm so sorry," you sobbed again and looked down, avoiding his gaze.

Buck was left speechless at this little scene. He had no idea you felt this way.

"What are you talking about, doll?" he asked carefully and tried to wipe the flour away from your cheeks but he only smudged it in the process. You looked adorable like that to him, though. He only wished you didn't cry. It was making him feel physical pain deep in his chest to see you sad like this. You were his girl and his job was to make you happy. "You're the best wife I could ever wish for. Every day I ask myself how the hell did I get so lucky."

"R-really?" you bit on your lower lip and looked up at him with wet eyes. "I'm a mess."

"We all make a mess sometimes," Buck shushed you and leaned in to place a soft kiss upon your lips. "And no one makes a prettier mess than you do, darling," he added with a smirk.

In one swift motion he lifted you up and turned around to sit you up on the empty counter. You were surprised that he rewarded your failure with a kiss but you couldn't complain. You crossed your legs behind him and put your fingers in his golden hair. You let out a sweet moan into his mouth and felt your cheeks heating up.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, ashamed of yourself. You didn't want your husband to think you were dirty or easy like any harlot.

"Oh God, what are you sorry for?" Buck seemed to be excited, though. He leaned in even closer and placed another kiss upon your lips, more heated this time. His hair was a mess now from all your tugging, his locks were falling on his forehead and tickling your face. "You have absolutely no idea how crazy you make me, baby," he whispered between one passionte kiss and another.

His big hands dropped from your waist to tug on the hems of your dress and apron. He lifted them up as much as he could as his fingers started to roam all over your stockings and the naked skin of your thighs where the straps of your stockings were. You wanted him to touch you between your legs so badly but you didn't want to say it out loud.

"You have to ask for it, baby," he teased, knowing your desires perfectly well, and you could feel your cheeks burning from embarrassment. "Be a good girl and ask for it, come on," he encouraged you.

"P-please…" you breathed out but he wasn't satisfied.

"Please? You're asking for something. Tell me what it is," he mocked you as his fingertips circled upon the hot, naked skin of your inner thigh.

"I want you to touch me."

"I am touching you, darling," he smirked and you bit on your lower lip. Why did he want you to say this out loud? Wives shouldn't say such things.

"I want you to touch me between my legs," you whispered, almost inaudibly.

"Louder," Buck commanded. He gave you a very intense and serious look that scared you a little but it also motivated you to obey him.

"Touch me between my legs. I need you there," you dared to say out loud.

"Wasn't that difficult, was it, sweet baby?" he cooed to you and you gasped at the feeling of his fingers on your wet panties. He laughed softly. "So wet already?"

"I'm sorry."

"Stop saying you're sorry. What are you sorry for?" he grabbed your cheeks with his free hand and made you look into his eyes. "The only thing you should be sorry about is how crazy you drive me."

You nodded, unsurely, and when he saw that you no longer fight him about it, he stopped squeezing your cheeks and put his long fingers inside your mouth instead. You were surprised at that but you quickly understood what he expected from you. You started to suck on them while staring intensly and lustfully into his bright blue eyes.

"God, you're a sight," he moaned and his fingers got inside your panties to rub on your heated center. Feeling his rough fingertips on your clit made a shiver run down your spine as you jumped a little on the counter. He chuckled and took his hand away. "Taste it," he removed his fingers from your mouth and placed his other hand in front of your mouth. You winced a little at the sight of how wet his fingers were, coated with your juices. "I want you to taste how sweet you are," he insisted and you opened your mouth unsurely. But the moment he put his fingers inside, you started to suck them clean. You wanted to obey your husband.

Buck's free hand focused on tearing your panties and leaving them in shreds on the floor. He had never done that before but you very much enjoyed how hungry he seemed to be for you.

"And?" he asked teasingly after removing his fingers from your mouth and wiping the drool from the corners of your mouth.

"Sweet," you agreed with him because he wouldn't accept any other answer anyway.

"Damn you are," he nodded before grabbing your hips again and pulling you closer to get better access to you. Your center was pressed to his crotch and you could feel that his trousers seemed to be too tight.

You let your hands wander to his belt to undo it while kissing him as your foreheads were pressed to each other's. The kisses were sloppy and nearly desperate as if you needed him more than air to breathe.

"Let me," Buck moved your hands away to work on his belt and you grabbed his arms instead to keep yourself steady and hold him close. Not long after you felt him between your legs, rubbing the tip on your wet and swollen clit. "Baby?" he asked to make sure.

"Go on," you nodded and dug your nails into the sleeves of his shirt at the feeling of him sliding inside. It made your eyes roll to the back of your head.

"You're such a doll," he whispered before hiding his face in the crook of your neck to suck on your sensitive skin and make you moan. Usually you tried to be quiet but it seemed like he wanted to hear you because every time you tried to keep it on the low, he would suck and tease more with his tongue, making it impossible to stay quiet. Your sounds were like a symphony to him and he wanted you to finally realize that.

"Oh, Buck," you sighed as his hips started to thrust faster. You felt him so deep that your eyes filled with tears. It was a sweet mixture of pleasure and pain that you never wanted to stop. However, your body twitched slightly as if it tried to get away from the intense, overwhelming feeling.

"Stay still when I'm trying to put a baby in you, will ya?" Buck growled into your neck and it made you feel dizzy. Your fingers dug even deeper as your back arched to feel him at a different angle. It soon became too much to handle and you felt the knot forming in your stomach. Having Buck's baby would only make you happier and even more fulfilled as his wife. It would be a dream come true to carry his son or daughter and let everyone know you were his wife. You wanted it more than anything else.

You came with a loud moan while tugging on Buck's hair. You squeezed him so tight that he came shortly after. His hips thrusted chaotically and you felt him biting your neck to muffle his own moan as your womb filled with his warm seed. You loved that feeling. It was making you feel like you were his more than anything else.

Now when the heated moment was over, you felt a bit awkward with what had just happened. You were the first one to move away carefully and fixed your hair. Buck watched you while breathing heavily with his hair ruffled and forehead covered with sweat. He put his trousers back on and worked on his belt as you tried to jump off the counter but you almost fell down in the process because your legs shaked so much. Buck caught you swiftly.

"Be careful, baby," he pulled you close to hug you and placed a kiss on your forehead.

"I need to make dinner," you explained.

"No, you don't," he shook his head. "Get dressed and we'll go to town."

"Really? I don't have to cook?" you asked, surprised.

"No. And, in fact, I think we should be going out to eat every Friday. I don't want you to spend every day in the kitchen, sweetheart," Buck rubbed your back.

"But… But I'm your wife," you tried to protest.

"Exactly," he nodded and lifted your chin up, "and I'm your husband and it's my goddamn job to look after you. And the baby," he winked.

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

[ratedfleur]

ricky nsfw a-z

request? yes! by like three anons but two were un-named 🤲

a - aftercare -> his definition of aftercare is massaging the parts of you that are sore, especially your waist and lower back. just expect naughty hands here and there though.

b - blowjobs -> basic but he likes it when you’re both on the couch, just lounging around not until your naughty hands start rubbing his crotch. and et voila, you’re on your knees for as long as ricky likes.

c - cum -> ricky loves it in your mouth or simply just on your skin. if you’re on your knees, he’d make you stick your tongue out as he cums, painting your upper body with specks of cum.

d - dominance -> you both are switches but he leans more towards the sub side, though he could dom too but his sub side overpowers that.

e - experience -> you both had no experience whatsoever, simply just trying out something new every now and then especially in the beginning of your relationship.

f - fuck buddies -> it’s a no but if you / him are really interested, then it’s worth a shot.

g - gagging -> he does it subconsciously when he’s getting blown, he just bucks his hips upwards, not meaning to do so.

h - hickeys -> you love doing it on the insides of his thighs, only available for you to see when you jerk or suck him off.

i - intimacy -> he’s not afraid to get intimate even in public because ricky is leaning on the braver side.

j - jerk offs -> loves it when he’s busy trying to accomplish some type of work but he’s just getting distracted with your hand that fondled his balls as you jerked him off.

k - kinks -> both: dacryphilia, praise kink, acarophilia / scratching, accidental stimulation

l - locations -> meeting rooms, hallways, couch!, over tables.

m - make outs -> loves it when you / him are in the middle of getting dressed, still slightly undressed when one gets pushed to the wall or dresser when you make out.

n - no’s -> ricky’s no are immediately taken into account, everything you’re doing will be put into a halt and instead you’d take care of ricky.

o - orgasms -> ricky’s orgasms are really intense no matter how much stimuli he is receiving, he WILL cum a lot.

p - positions -> cowgirl, non penetrative missionary, woman on top, grinding missionary.

q - quickies -> he loves it when he knows he has a meeting coming up in 30-25 minutes, he loves the thrill of nearly missing the meeting but ends up going with a mess in his boxers.

r - relationship -> out of the bedroom, ricky is indeed true to his name “lovelicky”, he’s so lovey dovey with you and you love babying him too.

s - submission -> both switches but ricky is more on the sub leaning side, but every now and then, you’d sub drop too.

t - (sex) toys - phone controlled vibrators, double sided strap ons, egg fleshlight

u - (can’t think of any so..) -> free space!

v - virginity -> most likely he would’ve lost his with yours, letting you take the reigns when he’s a little clueless about things.

w - wild card (from the writer) -> what ricky wants to try but doesn’t say so is trying to use or buy a double ended dildo, curious to see how it feels whilst in a scissor position with you.

x - x-ray vision -> .. no x-ray vision whatsoever, but he will go dumb when he sees his favorite plug on you.

y - (can’t think of any so..) -> free space!

z - zzz -> he will almost immediately doze off when he cums, feeling even drowsier when you wipe him down with a wet cloth.

© RATEDFLEUR — ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[nicki0kaye]

Hello fellow artist

you are not charging enough for your commissions

I know why--the fandom/online economy includes a lot of our friends who are also super broke, so it feels like a dick move to charge them more than 20 bucks

but your shit is worth so much more than that.

ESPECIALLY if you're doing any rendering. ESPECIALLY if that rendering includes color.

Sketches should be messy--if your shit isn't scribbly spagetti, what you have should be charged as lineart, because that's what it is. It just may not be 'final line'. Labeling it as a 'sketch' fucks with everyone's perspective of what a sketch should look like, how much detail it should have and how much effort it should take to make it.

The gap between what ppl charge for full line, even messy line, here in online circles and what ppl charge 'in the industry' ie for commercial use in magazines or TV ads or websites, is massive.

I'm talking full body line of one character, no rendering, being easily 300, and a full render with color reaching into 3k or higher, depending on the amount of detail.

I know its scary to raise your rates, viscerally I know that, but we are hurting each other by asking for so little for so much. It skews everyone's perception of what art by demand is worth, and reinforces that you can't possibly make a living wage doing art you love.

If you're in highschool, fine, charge 25 bucks for finished work, but if you're an adult being commissioned by other adults, raise your prices.

Art is a luxury item, made on demand, and not everyone can afford that. That doesn't mean you shouldn't be paid what you're worth. Yes, even if its fanart.

And if you're a fan of an artist who raises their prices; support them. Gas them up. Save up to commission them. Please.

[vintagerpg]

Shifting gears slightly, this is The Forest-Lords of Dihad (1982), the first of two products detailing the Land Beyond the Mountains, a setting developed by Gamelords for Metagaming’s Fantasy Trip system. Despite the promise of the material, the deal fell apart when Metagaming closed and Fantasy Trip slipped into copyright limbo. The pair of modules from Gamelords are, to my knowledge, the only third-party material produced for Fantasy Trip during its first incarnation.

I’ve never looked at any of Metagaming’s later adventures, and Tollenkar’s Lair is just a large dungeon, so I can’t really judge Dihad against the mainline content, but I am willing to bet this is pretty different. It’s very much a setting book, comparable with something like Griffin Mountain in terms of the size of the territory and the sort of details the book is interested in (social groups, topography, factions, as opposed to a more encounter-based focus like X1: The Isle of Dread, or even the overland details in Mines of Keridav). It’s…very good. It makes me seriously wonder what Thieves Guild might have developed into had Gamelords had the staying power of Chaosium and RuneQuest.

It is not at all what I expect for Fantasy Trip, which I think of as more of a tactical combat game. In fact, there is very little sense of system in the text. TFT stuff is there, but it isn’t in the foreground, making this material essentially generic.

Pretty sure that is a Wyman cover, but not one of their best. Wyman, Larry Shade and and Wallace Miller are all credited as interior illustrators, and they do a very good job. Really love that gargoyle. Which, gargoyle hunting is a big thing here — their gallbladders are important components for all sorts of arcane doings, and someone one has been overhunting and stockpiling them, causing a general shortage. This whole plot thread is delightfully odd and worth the price of admission alone (which was about 25 bucks, at least until I posted about it). I wish I had the second volume!

[humblequestvinyl]

mountain with a view

MOUNTAIN WITH A VIEW, EDDIE DIAZ X FEM!READER

APART OF THE ‘ROLLING UP THE WELCOME MAT’ SERIES

SUMMARY: after one too many late nights, y/n l/n is sitting at their kitchen table, debating if her and her husband's marriage is even worth fighting for.

inspired by mountain with a view, by kelsea ballerini

previous chapter, | next chapter,

lowercase is intentional! wc: 1.9k

warning: angst!!!!! swearing, marriage problems, trust issues (?) if there’s anything i missed let me know!

a/n: AHHH NEW SERIES W EDDIE <33! i'm so excited for this!! also my deepest apologies in advance bc i am so mean to eddie in this LMFAOO hope u guys enjoy <333

“COUNTRY STAR Y/N L/N HAS FILED FOR DIVORCE FROM HER HUSBAND, EDDIE DIAZ AFTER FIVE YEARS OF MARRIAGE.”

the voice of a news reporter flooded through the tv as photos of the former couple were placed on the screen. 

“L/N on instagram asked her fans on instagram to be mindful, and that both parties are fragile, and to respect their privacy.”the reporter went on, before a photo flashed of the h/c girl, “L/N is currently gearing up for her fifth album release; SUBJECT TO CHANGE this september.”

the video came to a stop, and she saw her best friend standing in front of her, with a horrified look on his face, “you and eddie are getting a divorce?” her heart hurt. this wasn’t how she wanted him to find out.

“it was bound to happen buck.”y/n’s voice was strained due to all of the crying she had done for the past two months, with a heavy feeling in her chest, “you and i both saw this coming.”

“i didn’t.” evan buckley’s voice dropped, and y/n slipped the shades to the top of her head, revealing her bloodshot eyes, “never once did i see this coming.”

“this wasn’t how we wanted you to find out.”her voice cracked, playing with the strings of her hoodie, “eddie said he was going to call you about it.” buck’s eyes watched as the girl avoided his eyes, refusing to make contact with them, knowing if she did she would probably burst into tears.

“why did you file for divorce?”

(TWO MONTHS BEFORE.)

STARING OUT THE BIG OPEN WINDOWS OF THEIR PENTHOUSE,

y/n could see the sun rising as she finished making breakfast for her and her stepson, making sure to leave some for her husband in case he came home in time.

eddie diaz and y/n l/n had first met when she was 21, and he was 23, one kick-starting on their music career, while one had just become a single parent to a son from a former marriage. somehow, they still made it work. getting married at 23 and 25,  going from texas, to los angeles, becoming a mother figure to his son chris, and making sure she could still go on tour.

they thought they had it all figured out, with everything working and a fixed schedule.

until they didn't.

so here she sat, waiting for her husband to come home while her stepson got ready for school, knowing she’d have to force a smile, make everything seem like it was okay, and be able to play the part of the perfect wife, perfect wife. it wasn’t until she smelt smoke that y/n realized the toast was burnt to absolute crisp, and was ruined, meaning she’d have to make more.  

“shit.”she muttered, rushing to make more, as she saw chris come down the hallway, and she forced a smile, brushing her h/c hair out of her face, making sure to tie it back.

“did you burn the toast again?”chris asked with a smile, and y/n forced a laugh, nodding before she brought over a plate with pancakes and eggs on them. “unfortunately, i did. i’m making more right now.”

a knock on the front door came, before it opened, revealing carla, and she had a wide smile spread across her face as she came in, and y/n waved as the toast popped up, less burnt than before. quickly placing it on a plate, and putting it on the table, making it so chris would be able to get to school on time.

“you go get ready for the day, i’ll make sure chris eats.”carla told the 28 year old, giving her a soft smile, and y/n nodded, before rushing off towards her room, and grabbing the clothing she needed for that day.

walking into the bathroom after she had changed, her eyes glanced down, seeing a wedding band that wasn’t hers sitting on the counter. 

it was her husband’s.

she felt anger run through her, with a million thoughts racing through her mind. why would he take it off? or why did he leave it at home? did he forget it? did he take it off intentionally before he left for work? 

why did he take it off?

“bye n/n!’chris yelled, breaking the girl out of her thoughts, and she gripped the counter, trying to keep her anger under check. “have a good day at school chris!”she yelled back, and the front door slammed, as she took a deep breath in.

it was a few moments before she walked back out towards the kitchen, noticing everything was put away, except for the burnt toast. opening up her refrigerator, y/n grabbed the butter out, and brought it over towards the kitchen table, before spreading the butter against the toast, and taking a bite out of it.

her eyes scanned back over the mountains as the clock struck 7:30 am, realizing her husband was over three hours late coming home, and had missed seeing his son in the morning for the second time that week.

it killed her. it absolutely killed her that he wasn’t coming home, and she was the one who was carrying all of that weight on her shoulders, trying to keep this marriage going when it was all one sided. she felt like a glass plate, and was breaking into a million pieces.

hearing boots come towards her, her head snapped towards it, seeing her husband eddie diaz walking towards her, before placing a kiss on the top of her head, with no words spoken between the two.  the tension in the air made her uncomfortable. it was so thick that you could almost cut it through it with a knife.

it was a while before any words were spoken between the two, and when they were, they were laced with anger and confusion.

“you left your ring at home.”y/n spoke up, taking another bite of the burnt toast, afraid to see the look her husband was giving her, “and you were late coming home again.”

“i forgot it when i left.”eddie admitted, glancing over at his wife for a moment, before looking back at his plate of food, “and i was finishing up something with buck.”

wrong. he wasn’t with buck, because buck had texted y/n back at five, saying he hadn’t seen eddie since he left his shift at 4am. 

“what? you don’t believe me?”eddie questioned, as y/n got up to throw the toast away, keeping silent for a moment, debating on how to handle the situation, before she shook her head no.

“i don’t believe you.”y/n admitted, placing the plate in the sink, avoiding eye contact with him, and she could feel the anger radiating off of him, “because buck texted me at five that he hadn’t seen you since you left your shift at four.”

she saw eddie freeze, knowing he had gotten caught into a lie, and y/n had seen right through it. he wouldn’t be able to hide whatever he was away for.

“okay fine, i wasn’t with buck.”eddie admitted, causing y/n to lean up against the kitchen counter, facing her husband to read his body language.

“so, where were you?”

“i don’t understand why you need to know.”eddie shrugged, getting defensive, causing y/n to read all the red flag, “it doesn’t matter to you at all.”

“it does matter to me eddie.”y/n spoke softly, fearing of an argument breaking out, but it was enviable with the two. “i want to make sure you’re not sitting in the goddamn morgue.”

“well guess what, i’m not.”eddie spewed, catching y/n off guard, “i’m standing right in front of you, trying to eat breakfast while you’re bothering me.”

“because i want for you to realize that i’m worried about you.”she told him, and she could tell he was dismissive, “i wait up for you every night, only for you to not come home until chris is about to leave for school.”

��and i never asked you to do that.”he stabbed his eggs with his fork, and y/n tensed up, “that’s your own doing for staying up and waiting.” y/n gave him a look as she took his words like gut punches, making her absolutely sick, “maybe you should just stop staying up and waiting.”

“maybe you should come home on time.”y/n shot back, folding her arms as she watched him closely, “to the family you have. to your son.”

“i do!”eddie defended, and y/n shook her head, “no you don’t! for the past four months you’ve been late coming home after every single shift eddie!” 

“you’re forgetting your ring, you’re not coming home on time and you’re distant.”y/n pointed out as eddie brushed past her to put his plate in the sink, and walked towards their shared bathroom, slipping his wedding band on, “there! are you happy now?”

“no i’m not!”y/n exclaimed as eddie started to change, and she followed him, “we’ve been in and out of therapy for the past three years and absolutely nothing has changed eddie. i’m so tired of it.”

“i mentally cannot handle another year of us being just fine.”y/n whispered, causing eddie to snap his head towards her, with a shocked look spread across his face, “what are you trying to say?”

“i want a divorce.”y/n spoke aloud, making all of her feelings real, and she saw eddie’s face fall.

“you want a divorce? all because i’m taking extra shifts to try and provide for our family? to pay for the mortgage for the house you insisted we had to have.”he shot back, and y/n felt her anger bubble over, causing her to snap, “you don’t even pay for the house! i do! it’s under my name and everything! not yours!”

“i’m the one who pays for the cleaners, the groceries, the electric!”she yelled, as the two stood in their bedroom, one that hadn’t felt like theirs in months. “i feel like i’m the only one who’s doing all the work all the time because you’re never home!”

“you loved me way more at 23 than you do now eddie, and that's a fact.”she told him as she brushed past him to pack a bag, “i cannot keep doing this anymore.”

“you’re just like your parents. giving up way too easy on our marriage.” eddie swore, and y/n felt something snap inside of her. “first off, don’t you dare talk about my parents! secondly, i have tried for months to get through to you.”

“you’re the one who never came to nashville when i called you begging to hop on that flight, one i paid for by the way!”y/n exclaimed, zipping up the bag she had packed, “i knew you had the week off and didn’t have chris at all and you still refused to come.”

“i’m done trying eddie.”she finished, before storming past him and walking towards the front door of their penthouse.

“so you’re done?”he questioned as she grabbed her car keys, and opened up the front door, staring right back at him with tears in her e/c eyes.

“this is when it’s over for me.”

[domreader-headcannon-scenarios]

Raffle winner request: \o/ might I request a Mephistopheles being overstimed with toys? (Some aftercare mention in the end?)

Raffle winner: @espresso-dragon

Mephis (overstim w/toys, (vibes, fleshlight)

- (due date: December 25, 2022 (late)

-min 500 words

Mephi had insisted on going on a shopping spree for adult ‘toys’ and came back with a small cart worth of items. You honestly weren’t sure if you could use them all at the same time or even in one session together, though you suppose it’s worth a try.

After a easy day, Mephi asked if you would mindstaying now, since you’re both free. Once you said ‘yes’ he quickly pulled you back to your shared room. He practically tossed his clothes aside and jumped up on the bed, rolling onto his back displaying himself for you. You started with a small, lilac egg shaped vibrator and put it on its second highest level, before turning it on and pressing it against the base of his cock, earning a groan and getting a clear twitch from his cock.

You gently move it down his cock before teasing his entrance and with the lube, it slipped in easily. Mephi gave a clear groan, head falling back in pleasure. You flip it to the highest level and went through one of the bags, looking for another toy you could use on him.

You grab a fleshlight and pour some lube into it before easing it down Mephi’s cock. He bucks up and tries to fuck himself. You don’t particularly care, you let him as you adjust the vibe into him and move it till he tenses up underneath you. You grin, pressing the viberator up to his sweet spot and then gently stroke his cock with the fleshlight.

Mephi bucks up against you and with a loud groan and you can feel him throbbing in your hands. He’s panting as he comes done from his high, but you don’t stop. You pull the the egg shaped vibe out of him. You turn it off, grabbing the next toy, another vibe but this one is phalic shaped. You gently push it into him before turning it on.

Mephi bucked and tried to wiggle away from the stimulation but didn’t outright try to get up and leave. “A-ah, feels really…intense.” He groaned out. You start to use the fleshlight to stroke him, flipping the vibe up another notch, earning a whimper.

You hummed in response before twisting your wrist earning a hiss. “You got so many toys, Hun. I don’t know how many more you could take…maybe just one more?” Mephi whined and shook his head. “Really?…Fine we’ll try them another night.”

You pull the fleshlight off his cock and grab it, stroking it gently. You adjust the vibe, turning it to max earning a whine. You feel his cock bob a few times before he’s climaxed in your hands once more. You pull the toy out of him but stroke him a few more times before letting go of his shaft too.

You grab a towel, gently wiping off the mess he’s made on himself. You lean down to give him a kiss while he catch his breath. Mephistopheles pulls you into the bed alongside him. “Good boy!“ You praised, wrapping your arms around him, gently rubbing small circles in his back. “Do you want a nap?”

Mephi instantly nodded and bumped his forehead against yours. “Let’s just stay here for a bit, please?”

[bingebuddie]

Here... We... Go...

Hi all,

Well, so far, 2024 has sucked for me... but anyway...

I've been feeling pretty out of sorts mentally, and depending on where my head is at, I've been bouncing back and forth between Fics and my Wes and Cole novel.

I am going on a writing retreat May 4-12th... so... expect some major movement...

I wanted to provide a few updates on where I am with my Fics and other works.

Sideways:

Published updates here have been slower than I wanted or anticipated. This has nothing to do with the story, as I have this outlined for Arcs 6-10... Yes, up to Arc 10.

My personal life has gotten in the way a lot over the last few months and has just eaten up my time to write.

Now, Arc 6 will lead right into Arc 7 and 7 into 8. You will want to throw some stuff at me for some of the wtf moments and having to wait between arcs... but it's all coming. Anyone new to the series has had the benefit of reading five fully finished-out arcs that took me about a year to write. Have some patience with me. It will be worth it.

Arc 6, Into The Unknown, has multiple chapters drafted. I just need to clean up some edits from my beta, and they will be posted. May is going to be a big month for this arc.

This is a pivotal point in the series. It spans Chapters 37-48, making it the longest arc so far. This installment will delve into the Seals' backstory, their connection with Buck and Eddie, and much more. It’s a substantial piece of the puzzle that you won't want to miss.

This one does have some heavy moments...

This does end with a cliffhanger... But I promise, it's not our boys directly you are left wondering about...

Arc 7—Strong—Eddie will need his friends and family like never before. This is a heavy Diaz family arc. The outline is eight Chapters.

This also ends in a cliffhanger and that promise I made above... does not apply here.... insert evil laugh...

Arc 8 Genesis—This is the big one. It all comes together here, and it is the part I am most excited to write. It is also the longest, with an outline of 16 chapters. You will find out more about Genesis in Arc 6.

This arc will change all of their lives and the status quo as we know it. Grab your seats and tissues. The previous title for this was Unleashed...

Arc 9 - Experience/Circles - Tentative Title - No tease, as it will spoil what's to come...

Arc 10 - My All - googles Mariah Carey ...

Sideways isn't going anywhere...

Shifted:

Volume 1: Nevermore

This was originally planned to be 30 chapters. I have 20 published right now. The rest of this is outlined, and chapters 21-25 are written and ready to be published. I haven't posted these because Chapter 25 ends on a massive cliffhanger, and I don't want to leave you all hanging. I will be finishing this... after Arc 6 of Sideways ...

I have a plan for the second arc... but that's all the way behind everything else on my docket...

Impossible:

If you have read this one, I have yet to post the last chapter...

This has an MCD, and while I was writing this, I lost a friend. It was hard to finish. I have finished the outline, and this will be completed soon.

Run:

This is on hold. I have too much else to focus on. Consider this on hiatus until I say otherwise. It might even be scrapped... will see...

Would You Mind:

This one was a lot of fun... The wrap-up/epilogue is done; it's with my beta...

Lap Dancing Eddie will return... in Sideways...

I Don't Want To Be Your Freind:

As of today, 7 of 11 chapters are posted. This is all outlined. I have drafts of chapters 8-11 done. Going to beta and will be posting soon...

I started this leading up to Season 7; it was my mind dealing with all the rumors and leaks... In my mind and my group chat, I was calling this my Anti Tommy and Marisol fic...

This got way out of hand and became a monster of a fic...

Now... on to what else I have brewing...

Future Shock - 3 Part Series - Magic/BAMF/Mayhem/Found Family/Soul Mates/Redux/Ryan Throw's The Timeline Into A Blender and Tada...

As It Is - 2030 and the 118 have been a fractured team since the lawsuit. When members of the team start to be picked off one by one, Hen, Chim, and Bobby, have no one to turn to until friends and family return in their most desperate hour.

As It Was - Details what led to the fracturing of the 118. A retelling of Season 2 and part of season 3...

As It Was Always Meant To Be - Now reunited, will the 118 be able to rally around each other, or will their painful past be too much to overcome.

This has a loose outline and it's very large ...

Depressed, Devasted, and Destroyed aka Something To Hold On To:

I keep calling this Triple D or DDD... This is a pure angst fest... major whump... like I'm mad at myself for the whump here ... seriously...

This has an outline...

Relationship Goals—In an effort to rebuild their friendship after their recent relationships crash and burn, Buck and Eddie join a local hockey team along with some of Buck's old seal friends. This was pure fan service to myself and a way to get Buck, Eddie, Wes, and Cole to play hockey and not have to do it on Sideways. This currently sits around 60 pages.

Stolen - A stolen kiss changes everything between Buck and Eddie... This angst fest is somehow incredibly soft... This is about 35 pages right now...

The Ties That Bind - Buck breakdown fic... This might get scrapped and merged into DDD from above...

All I Want for Christmas - Think Scrooged Vs. It's A Wonderful Life Vs 911... This won't be posted until holiday time...

The Wes and Cole novel is still moving along... it's my refuge when the show does something stupid...

I should probably get to writing... it's not like I have nothing to do....

[babygirl-diaz]

No Nut November (Buddie Fanfic)

((Based on this prompt by @blurredbuddie))

Buck blamed Albert. It was his fault that he was currently sleeping on the couch rather than his very comfortable bed snuggling up to his very cuddly boyfriend. You see, Albert was going through a nasty breakup and had sworn off sex. Except that wasn’t enough for him. No. The 25-year-old had to rope Buck into his awful plan. It was November and Albert had come across “No Nut November” while browsing Reddit. His curiosity got the best of him and he decided to engage in the ridiculous challenge. He then turned it into a bet with Buck, whose only brain cell wasn’t working at the time and it only heard the part where Albert said, “I will wash your Jeep for a year,” and immediately agreed to the bet. He doesn’t even remember what Albert would get if he won!

But anyway, back to Buck’s current predicament. How did he end up on the couch? Well, he told his boyfriend about the bet, which went about as well as you would expect. 

“You what?” Eddie asked after he tried to take their make-out session further and go down on Buck. 

���I am abstaining from sex this month,” Buck simply told him with a shrug. 

Eddie, who was currently on his knees next to Buck’s junk, narrowed his eyes at him. “And why would you do that?” 

Buck dragged the comforter over his legs and slinked back into the bed. “Because I may have made a bet with Albert that I can last through No Nut November longer than him.” 

“Not nut what?” Eddie asked, sitting back on his hunches. Buck knew he was trying to suppress his frustration and anger. 

“No Nut November. It’s a challenge people engage in during the month of November where they abstain from coming for the entire month,” Buck explained. 

“And you two dumbasses couldn’t have participated in Movember for a good cause?” Eddie asked, letting his anger slowly show. “At least that would have been sexy.” 

“But-” 

“OR you could have even participated in that writing challenge Chris is doing this year!’ Eddie finally blew off his top. 

“But then I couldn’t have made a bet with Albert and potentially won a year’s worth of free cleaning for my Jeep.” 

“What?!” Eddie practically yelled. “You decided to deprive me of my nine-inch goodness for a whole ass month so that you would get a year’s worth of free car washes?” 

“Do you know how expensive car washes are in L.A.?” Buck asked. 

“And what does Albert get if he wins?” 

Buck blinked at Eddie before shrugging one shoulder. “I don’t remember.” 

“You don’t remember?” Eddie repeated after him. 

“I don’t remember,” Buck confirmed. 

“Get out,” Eddie said bluntly. 

Buck balked at him. “What? This is my room,” 

“I don’t care,” Eddie replied. “Get out.” 

And that’s how Buck ended up on the couch of his own apartment. 

Buck thought Eddie would still be mad at him the nextmorning, but then he woke up to the smell of breakfast and coffee. Confused, he went to the kitchen and found Eddie there making pancakes. 

“Good morning, babe,” Eddie said without even looking up from the pancakes. 

“Morning?” Buck replied, confused. 

“Have a seat,” Eddie told him. “Breakfast is just about ready.” 

“Eddie, you’re not mad at me anymore?” Buck asked, surprised, as he took a seat at the table. 

Eddie brought the breakfast over and then the cups of coffee. Buck couldn’t help but notice he was walking funny. Putting a little too much emphasis on his swaying his hips. And then instead of taking the chair beside Buck, Eddie sat down on his lap and wrapped his arms around Buck’s neck. 

“Uh…Eddie?” Buck instinctively wrapped his arms around Eddie’swaist, but he was confused nonetheless. “Why are you sitting on my lap?” 

“Can’t a man sit on his boyfriend’s lap when he feels like it?” Eddie asked. His voice was low, but innocent. His actions, however, were anything but innocent. He was currently rubbing his ass against Buck’s clothed dick. 

Buck was usually oblivious, but this time, he understood Eddie’s plan fairly quickly. “Eddie,” Buck warned him. “I know what you’re doing.” 

“What am I doing?” Eddie looked at him with those big brown eyes of his that would have Buck committing murder. 

“You’re trying to get me to lose my bet with Albert.” 

A moan escaped Eddie’s lips as he probably felt Buck getting hard in his boxers. “Buck…” His voice was breathless, like Buck was fucking him already. 

Buck lost himself in the sounds Eddie was making. His grip tightened on Eddie’s waist and he couldn’t help but thrust his hips against Eddie’s ass. But then he realized what he was doing, and he stood up abruptly, causing Eddie to fall to the floor. 

“Buck!” Eddie yelled. 

“Sorry, baby, I promise I’ll make it up to you.” With that, he made a run towards the door, grabbing his keys and shoes along the way. When he was safely in his Jeep, Buck realized he had nowhere to go. He had just made a run from his own apartment. But then he remembered he had a gym bag in the back, and thanked whatever god was out there for his laziness. 

Buck made his way to the station, where he could shower and get changed into his dirty uniform. He didn’t have his phone on him, which meant he couldn’t even text Eddie and grovel for forgiveness. 

When he reached the station, all eyes were on him. Someone even wolf-whistled, as he did a walk of shame through the station, without having actually had sex the previous night. 

Bobby was the first one to approach him with a confused look plastered on his face. “Uh, Buck? Why are you parading through my firehouse in your t-shirt and boxers?” 

“Long story. You don’t wanna know,” Buck replied tiredly, and hung his head.

“You dropped Eddie on his ass and made a run out of your own apartment?!” Hen’s voice rang through the station. 

Buck’s eyes widened, and he immediately shushed her. “Are you trying to embarrass me in front of the entire station?” 

“That ship has sailed already.” Hen eyed him from top to bottom and raised an eyebrow. 

“What do you mean he dropped Eddie on his- his-”

“It’s okay, Cap, you can say ass.” Hen sympathetically put a hand on Bobby’s shoulder, gaining herself a glare from him. She removed her hand immediately and put it up in surrender. “I don’t know the whole story, but I just got a call from a very pissed-off Eddie telling me that Buck ran out on him. 

“Exactly how pissed off was he?” Buck cringed at the thought. 

“I said very, didn’t I?” Hen replied. “But I would be too if Karen ran out on me after dropping me on my ass.” With that, she broke out into laughter. “I can only imagine what that scene must have been like.” 

“Yes, yes, laugh it up at my misery.” Buck huffed. “I’m gonna go take a shower. And do we have any cereal? I am starving.” 

“We have bread, and I can make you some eggs,” Bobby told him. 

“He really is your favorite!” Hen accused him. “You never offer to make us eggs when we come to the station hungry.” 

“Well, I’m in emotional distress right now,” Buck informed her. “And thanks, Bobby, that will be great.” 

“Your boyfriend is the one in emotional distress,” Hen pointed out. “You are in deep shit.” 

Buck didn’t need to be reminded of that. He waved her off and hit the showers instead. 

Buck was digging into his breakfast when a loud “EVAN BUCKLEY!” reverberated through the station. Oh shit.

Footsteps headed up the stairs, and Buck almost felt his heart leap out of his throat. He abruptly stood up from the chair and put his hands up. “Look, I can explain.” 

“Explain how you dropped me on my ass in the middle of your kitchen and then ran out like a coward?” 

“Yeahhh… It doesn’t sound so good when you put it like that.” Buck cringed. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” He asked with genuine concern in his voice. 

“You hurt my pride!” Eddie said dramatically. 

“I’m sorry, you were just rubbing yourself on me and I need to abstain and I could-” Buck stopped talking when he realized they were getting an audience. “Hey, folks.” He waved awkwardly. “Maybe give us some privacy?” 

“Maybe you should stop talking so loudly where all of us can hear you,” Chimney told them. “And what do you mean you’re trying to abstain? Albert is trying to abstain too. Doing some kinda ridiculous challenge.” Chimney paused and then gave Buck a “Are you serious?” look. “You’re doing the challenge too, aren’t you?” 

Eddie crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow at Buck. “You wanna tell them or should I?” 

“I mean, we really don’t have to tell them,” Buck pointed out. 

“Evan here made a bet with Albert about who will last longer without sex during the month of November,” Eddie told them. 

There was silence, and then soon laughter rang through the station. 

“Are you serious?” Ravi asked. “Is it even possible for you and Albert to go without sex for a day?” 

“Hey, I’ve lasted a day so far,” Buck informed him, feeling a little offended. 

“Even dumb and dumber would come up with a better plan.” This time, it was Chimney’s turn to tease him. 

“How would you even know if Albert’s had sex or how would he know if you have?” Hen was asking the important questions and, truth be told, Buck hadn’t thought of that. 

“I guess we’ll just have to believe each other,” Buck replied. 

“There’s no honor among thieves,” Hen countered. 

“I think it’s a good challenge,” Bobby finally provided his two cents, earning him amused looks from Hen, Chimney, and Ravi, and a glare from Eddie. “I am just saying. It’s probably healthy for both of you.” 

“Thank you, Bobby!” Buck said appreciatively. “At least someone gets me.” 

“What did you bet on, anyway?” Bobby continued to ask. 

Eddie gave Buck an unamused look, who gulped before saying, “If I win, Albert washes my car for a year.” 

“Boooooooo!” Hen, Ravi, and Chimney yelled at him and soon he was hit with plastic fruits from the table, as Buck tried to protect himself. 

“You couldn’t bet on anything better?” Hen asked. 

“Like a new Jeep itself,” Ravi suggested. 

“We’re firefighters, not tech moguls,” Buck replied. 

Everyone just rolled their eyes at him and walked away. 

Once they all disappeared, Eddie came closer to Buck. “So there is no way I can convince you to fuck me?” He asked. 

“Right now? I think we’ll both get fired if I do that, baby.” Buck leaned in to kiss him but Eddie turned his head away and the kiss landed on his cheek. 

“Hmmm, if you’re not gonna fuck me, then you’re not getting kisses either.” 

Buck hated it when Eddie used that sassy voice with him. But it also turned him on. He was not going to last the next 28 days. 

Okay, so he lasted 28 days, but he wasn’t so sure when he had 25 days left. Eddie wasn’t letting up. Nope, he was even more determined to make Buck lose the bet. So on November 5, he brought out the big guns. 

They were getting ready to go to bed. Eddie was already under the covers when Buck finished his nighttime ritual and came to bed. He wasn’t wearing any t-shirt like he usually wasn’t. It did things to Buck seeing him shirtless, but he controlled himself and got under the covers. Buck leaned over to kiss Eddie, who eagerly returned his kiss before lying down. They got into their usual position, with Eddie facing the window and Buck behind him with his back to the wall. But when Buck’s arm wrapped around Eddie’s waist, his hand brushed against something. Something that definitely didn’t feel like boxers. They were rough and lacey to the touch and Eddie’s hard dick was pressing against it. 

“Eddie?” Buck almost choked. “Are you wearing panties?” 

“Yes,” Eddie replied like he did this type of thing every day. Like Buck hadn’t begged him to wear the panties for months after he bought them for him. Like he hadn’t shoved them in the back of his dresser, telling Buck that he would never wear them in a million years. 

“Why?” Buck couldn’t move his hand. It’s like it was glued to the spot on top of Eddie’s lacey panties. 

“Because I felt like it,” Eddie turned around in Buck’s arms and leaned in close to his ear as he added, “...daddy.” 

Buck let out a choked sound that he didn’t even realize came out of his own mouth. “What?” 

“Daddy,” Eddie innocently said it again. 

“Fuck,” Buck groaned and pushed Eddie against the bed and climbed on top of him, as he kissed him, pinning him to the mattress. 

Eddie wrapped his legs around Buck and let out a moan into his mouth. Eddie moved his hips against Buck’s as Buck thrust against him. After breaking away from the kiss, Eddie wrapped his arms around Buck’s neck and buried his face in the crook of his neck, “Daddy,” he hoarsely whispered again. 

Suddenly, the conversation with Albert rang in his ears, and Buck stopped moving. His hard on started to subside. Because having Albert’s voice ringing in his ears as he was trying to get on with his boyfriend wasn’t exactly an aphrodisiac. Eddie whined under him, and Buck’s attention shifted to him. 

Buck pulled away from Eddie and looked down at him. Eddie stared back at him with swollen lips and blown eyes. Shit. Buck was getting hard again. 

“I have to go.” Buck scrambled out of bed. 

Eddie sat up and looked at him confused. “What?” 

“I’m gonna go sleep on the couch,” Buck told him and ran out. 

“Buck!” Eddie called out after him, but he didn’t stop as he shut the door, careful not to slam it and wake up Chris. 

He half expected Eddie to come after him and demand answers, but he didn’t. It took awhile, but Buck fell asleep on the cold leather couch, freezing his ass off, because he was too scared to go back to the room and get a blanket. 

Early the next morning, Buck woke up to find he wasn’t as cold anymore and realized that there was a comforter thrown over him. He smiled and took in Eddie’s smell that still lingered on the comforter, and fell back asleep. 

They had 15 days to go in the bet, and Buck was dying and Buck knew so was Eddie. The man was desperately trying to seduce him in every way possible. But Buck was holding out strong. 

Albert was visiting today, and he looked as miserable as Buck felt. “Can we call it a truce and end the bet?” 

“Oh, hell no,” Buck told him. “I’ve put my relationship on the line for this! I’m seeing it to the end.” 

“YOU!” Eddie’s voice rang through the loft as he stormed over to Albert with an accusatory finger pointed in his direction. “I am not a violent man, but you make me want to commit violent acts!” 

Buck pulled Eddie back before he could attack Albert. “Babe, you were once part of an illegal fight club. You’re hardly non-violent,” Buck said in his ear, acutely aware that he wasn’t helping the situation. 

“Hey, whoa, I just asked Buck to call it a truce and end this thing.” Albert moved back and put up his hands in front of him. “He’s the one who refuses to give up.” 

Eddie turned to glare at Buck. “Is that true?” 

Buck gave him a sheepish look in return. “I mean, I’ve come so far, baby. I wanna see this thing through.” 

“Well, you can sleep on the couch for the rest of you life then,” Eddie huffed and walked away. 

“I hate you so much,” Buck told Albert. 

The very next day, Eddie took his seduction game up a notch. It was a Thursday, and it was a rare day off for both of them. Buck had spent the night at the Diaz house like he usually did, and he was looking forward to spending some quality time with his boyfriend while Chris was at school. He already knew Eddie was going to pull something, but nothing prepared him for what he actually did. 

Buck was in the shower after breakfast and when he came out, he found Eddie suspiciously missing from the house. “Eddie?” Buck called out as he looked for his boyfriend. The front door was slightly open, and Buck became alert. He opened the door and went outside and stopped dead in his tracks on the front porch. 

“What the-” His mouth fell open as he watched his boyfriend. His boyfriend, who was currently dressed in low-cut booty shorts that accentuated his gorgeous ass, and a crop top that showed off his delicious abs. If that wasn’t enough, he was currently washing Buck’s jeep. The shirt and booty shorts clung to his skin and the shape of his dick was visible through the shorts, so were his perky nipples through the wet shirt. 

When Eddie saw Buck, he wrung the sponge all over him, spilling suds down his chest and inside his shirt. 

Buck just stood there with his mouth agape and his dick hard in his sweatpants. Eddie’s display was getting the attention of the neighbors who were currently home: retired folks and stay-at-home parents. 

“What are you doing?” Buck asked, going over to him. “It’s cold out here. You’re gonna freeze your nuts off.” 

“Well, you wanted someone to wash your Jeep, so I am doing you a service,” Eddie told him. 

“In clothes you borrowed from a high school cheerleader?” Buck asked. 

Eddie smirked and trailed his index finger down Buck’s chest. “What? You don’t like the outfit?” 

“Oh no, I love it.” Buck let out a low growl and dug his fingernails into Eddie’s waist. “I just don’t like others watching you.” 

“Jealous of 80-year-olds?” Eddie chuckled. 

“80-year-olds have eyes too and they sure like to stare,” Buck told him. He put his hands under Eddie’s ass and lifted him, throwing him over his shoulder before carrying him back into the house. “No one gets to see you like this but me.” 

Buck carried him to the bedroom and threw him down on the bed before climbing on top of him after taking off his t-shirt and sweatpants. Eddie stared at his naked body and licked his lips. Buck captured Eddie’s lips in a kiss as his hand slipped into Eddie’s shorts, making Eddie gasp. “What about the bet?” He asked. 

“Screw the bet,” Buck replied and kissed him again.  

And if Albert had called him the previous night to tell him he had given into his desires and picked up a woman at the bar and taken her home, then Eddie didn’t need to know that. He just needed to know that he had successfully made Buck lose his bet. 

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Buck Angel

Published: Jul 21, 2023

A guest post by Buck Angel, which really should be in The New York Times—maybe they’ll republish it?

Every day, I’m called a new name. Sometimes it’s something obviously insulting, like bigot or transphobe. Sometimes it’s something more subtly designed to twist my knickers, like female. My critics assume this will wound me, because for the last 30 years, I have lived as a man. I medically transitioned at age 30, after what felt like a lifetime of struggle, and after many years of therapy and evaluation.

Transition saved my life. But being called female doesn’t hurt me, because while I changed my body, I’m well aware that I can’t change my sex. And even though I’ve felt since I was a young child that I would have preferred to be—and should have been—born male, I don’t believe that children should medically transition. I’m one of the oldest and most visible female-to-male transsexuals in the country, but because of my views, today’s trans activists not only don’t speak for me, they try to cancel me.

Let’s rewind. I grew up in the 60s and 70s, a time of tomboys, when I was one of several typically masculine girls in short hair and sports shorts, running wild. There wasn’t much difference between me and those other tomboy girls back then; I beat up the boys and earned their respect. For the most part, my parents let me dress and live as a boy. The few times I had to wear a dress for church were torture, but other than that I had an excellent childhood.

My parents assumed my tomboyism was a phase I’d outgrow, but at puberty, I became deeply uncomfortable with my female body, a condition I had no name for back then. I lived for many years as a butch lesbian, and was an internationally successful androgynous model. Sometimes I wore suits, but when they stuffed me into a dress, I would spiral.

Eventually, the disconnect between my body and my sense of myself became too great. Sad and lonely, I turned to drugs, became homeless, engaged in prostitution, lost most of my friends and family, and hit bottom.

Once I got sober, and got therapy, I also got clarity. I told the therapist I felt that I should be—no, that I was—a man, and, unlike everyone else I’d ever said this to, she said, “I hear you. I believe you.” She gave me a diagnosis of what was then called gender identity disorder, which didn’t feel like a stigma. It felt like a lightbulb going off, which allowed me to understand and accept myself. I had a mental condition. That’s why I experienced anguish. Our next task was to figure out how to treat it.

Gender clinics were hardly in existence then. She couldn’t just affirm me and send me off for drugs and surgery with a letter. We spent over a year exploring the source of my distress and what it meant to be or live as a man or woman. She dug deep, she pushed back. And eventually, together, we decided that the potential benefits of transition were worth the risks. I had already passed the “real life” test. Now I went in search of medical treatments.

We filled out an inch-thick pile of paperwork for a program at Stanford, and never even received a reply. Eventually, we found an endocrinologist who explained to me that if I took testosterone, it would be experimental. But by that time, after 25 years of navigating the world as a differently-gendered person and more than a year of intensive psychological evaluation, I was ready.  

I did something even more radical than transitioning once my body changed: I became an adult film star, a man without male parts, making space for nonconforming bodies, raising awareness and increasing body positivity for trans people. Some of my lesbian friends called me a traitor, and haters sometimes called me a tranny, but for the most part, I found acceptance and joy. Until about five years ago, I was happily living as a transsexual, or, as I call it, “a man with a female past.”

Then several things started to change. The word transsexual—a person of one sex who changes their body to appear more like the other—was eclipsed by the word “transgender,” an umbrella term that included everyone from tomboys gently rejecting stereotypes to trans women who’d had penectomies, plus myriad gender identities that seemed to have no locatable meaning. The idea that people could actually change sex, that sex was mutable or unreal, took hold in society, especially with young people.

Then, as some clinicians, including trans women, have admitted, a rash of teen girls started to declare themselves trans and transition; some said they’d had no mental health treatments before doing so. Then I started to hear about and from detransitioners, who’d taken cross-sex hormones or had breast or genital surgeries, not to cure some kind of organic dysphoria but because they’d been taught that if they felt uncomfortable with themselves or their bodies, maybe they needed to change them to match their brains. One study of detransitioners showed 55 percent felt they weren’t properly evaluated.

When it comes to gender dysphoria, talk therapy is more important than anything else. In fact, several European countries are now insisting that therapy is the primary treatment for it, with medical interventions under strict regulation. Physical transition is hard both on your body and mind; I should know. You have to make sure this is the right path for you by working with a therapist who will push back and question and explore the source of your desire to change. Dysphoria is in the brain. If you’re skipping over the brain and going straight to the body, you’re not helping trans people.

People accuse me of climbing the ladder and pulling it up behind me, transitioning and then trying to stop other people from doing so. That’s not my goal at all. I transitioned at age 30 and never looked back or felt I’d made a mistake, and I welcome adults who can adequately weigh the risks and benefits of transition to join me. But I never could have been sure without the struggle I navigated, without my brain growing mature enough to decide. Every choice I made was in adulthood.

One reason I’m so adamant about not medically transitioning children is that those tomboy girls I played with growing up, who were just like me back then, didn’t turn out like me. Some are gay women. Some are straight. Some feminized during or after puberty. Some stayed masculine. Childhood gender nonconformity or even gender dysphoria aren’t indications of any one adulthood. We can’t just slap the label trans on a kid who’s differently gendered and assume we know what path that kid should take for the rest of their life. In fact, several studies show that the vast majority of kids who are gender dysphoric in childhood resolve their distress by the end of puberty, and a majority of those grow up to be same-sex attracted.  

Instead of focusing on identity, we should be focusing on the rigid gender stereotypes kids are absorbing every day. Give them the room I had to be masculine or feminine without presuming what it means about their futures. For suggesting these ideas, my own so-called LGBT+ “community” attacks me, tries to silence and intimidate me, accuses me of condemning children to a lifetime of suffering. But that’s not what I’m saying at all. I’m saying it may be hard to live in their bodies, but it’s important that they try, because we don’t know how to forecast the future from their current struggle, but we know it’s important that they learn to navigate and overcome hardship.

Myself, I’m glad for my many years of struggling. Struggle made me strong. Now the struggle is so different. It’s a struggle to tell an inconvenient truth in a world that thinks truth is transphobic. It’s a struggle to keep my business going amid #cancelbuckangel hashtags. It’s a struggle to feel part of a community that would oust a pioneering elder for wrongthink.

I’ve already been through so much, and I can handle it. But I don’t think suppressing knowledge, dissent and discussion is going to create more space for kids struggling today. I think those kids are best served by having time and space to understand themselves, and not rush—or be rushed—to make decisions about who they are going to be.

[br0-k3n-sch00lb01]

Aaaaaah what a time to exist

my brain is so empty when it comes to making posts that people actually care about

i wanna change my maintag to something other than charlie rants.. but i’ve been using it for too long to do that…

i guess its cus most of my posts arent rants they are just nonsense that i am spouting to anyone who particularly pays attention to them (aka nobody,,) what even are these posts anymore

im gonna spout about life instead of other things!! Because… i suppose i should talk about my life more.. since i never do

and thats kinda what blogs are for, hm?

I… went to get froyo with my friend… it was fun but it was like 25 bucks for two people…

he has a crush on me, and i… dont know how i feel about him at all.

im not sure really what my sexuality is anymore… i feel like sometimes i’m massively gay because oh my god men… but then other times i think of ever being in a relationship and it grosses me out… so then i think maybe i’m aro…

i finished watching Madoka Magica Rebellion today!!

it was good… though they skipped over parts in the manga that i really liked… its okay though

it was worth 4 dollars to rent…

it’s almost my birthday…

i wonder if people got me what i asked for.?

hopefully somebody got me the Madoka cosplay i wanted…

i don’t think i’ll be able to afford it myself haha

my grandma has me in therapy right now. I don’t really feel like it’s helping me at all…

but she says i have to do it and she won’t let me go out of it until she thinks i’m ready. i don’t think i’m ever getting out of therapy, if that’s the case.

i don’t really like my family situation. I know compared to others, i have life pretty good. But sometimes i feel like all they care about is keeping me alive so that they dont get accused of bad parenting. Or forcing me to get good grades so that the teachers don’t have to talk to them about how awful i am at everything.

not because they care about my future or anything. because they DON’T care about my future. No matter how much they say they do. You can just sort of tell.

i got my Len Kagamine cosplay a little while ago… my grandma said it was an Amazon pick… but it’s not really as good as the one i picked out…

I’ve been thinking about @n3hmof1sh and @ffelix143 a lot lately!!

i talk about Nehmo and Felix constantly to anybody who listens..

or even if they don’t really listen…

my friends haven’t been responding to my texts. I think they’re ignoring me.

i think maybe i’m being too much of a burden on them… annoying them all the time…

i’m sure some of my friends on here understand what i mean… i don’t really do much outside of tumblr, to be honest

i sort of wish there was no real world, and i could live here in tumblr with the people that actually care… people that i would do anything to spend time with off of a screen..

i’ve gotten so attached to my stupid screens that i really don’t know what else to do without them. I’ve lost any sense of worth in real activities.

i think that’s a bad thing.

but that’s okay.

[britneyshakespeare]

barnes and noble has been raising the prices of everything and further pushing for their premium membership option (which they raised the price of by 60 percent this year!) and then when they have big sales events, they're less than what they used to be.

last year at this time you could get one of their leather-bound book annex tomes for $12.50 (without a member discount) because of the 50 percent off all hardcover sales. but they raised the price of those tomes from 25 bucks to 30, and they decreased the sale from 50 percent off all hardcovers to 1/3rd off. so that same book that was $12.50 at last year's end-of-year sale is now 20 bucks. and that's supposed to be savings enough to induce me to walk into one of their stores this week?

i'm sorry but b&n has just gotten so greedy, even though their business has only been doing better and better in previous years. they do not have to be raising prices like they have been, and they can damn well afford to have the same savings events they used to. if you went to one of those hardcover sales a year or two ago, even if you lived in a less populated area like i do, you had never seen a b&n so busy in your life. things were flying off the shelves. they WERE making bank.

and as a company they've only been growing and growing (as much as the publishing industry has been, in recent years). but there are so many other ways to buy books. CHEAPER ways to buy books. MORE SUSTAINABLE ways to buy books. and since books and booksellers are doing really well right now, i don't see why barnes and noble is getting so greedy when they don't have to be. i dont like new shiny books that much. people buy books for the content, ultimately. sometimes we as consumers might make the choice that a new shiny book is worth paying a bit more for, but not that much. barnes and noble has just been demanding more and more of their customers' money for less and less benefit.