#one night stands count

[nuge]

from being the youngest captain of the nhl to losing after being down 0-3 and forcing game 7. i don't care what you say. this is his team

connor mcdavid | EDM @ FLA | 06.24.2024

[thedreadvampy]

sometimes I forget that my experience has been. um. not 'your experiences are not universal' vibes but more like 'your experiences are EXTREMELY atypical'

[perilegs]

when you light up your cigarette from another person's cig it's called the same thing as fucking them in finnish. and. i was drinking with a couple of friends last weekend and now that i think about it there is something funny about standing outside in the cold and having someone ask me to fuck them (= light their cig with mine) in front of their partner bc it's funny (said partner has also done the same to me). and we were all joking and being silly but both me and the partner are the kind of people that are fun to tease and make fun of bc 1. we dont mind 2. we find it funny usually 3. we unfortunately make it v easy, so. anyways i offer the end of my 2nd cig to the person whose cig i lighted earlier bc i wasnt feeling it and they had just declined a full cigarette from their partner bc that was too much at that moment so the partner was jokingly like "whyd you take leevi's cig but not mine" the the convo took a weird turn and ended up in two people who are standing on both sides of me patting my head and leaning on me while calling me a good boy. obviously it doesnt sound as hot in finnish but if i didn't already have a praise kink that would have awakened something in me

[yuri-for-businesswomen]

i dont think regular people can grasp how isolating it is to be that person who is always single in a society and environment where people are always dating, and dating is so culturally relevant. all my friends have had longterm/serious relationships and even when theyre single they are usually seeing someone. im seeing someone maybe 2 months a year on average but im „true single“ most of the time and dont really get into relationships at all. and its always been this way.

and with age and thanks to getting more into feminism i know that my selfworth and value as a person does not rely on dating. in fact most relationships i see are dysfunctional or with men i would not want to be with (im saying men because they are usually the problem, but also because most men are just unattractive on top). and i think that promoting to women that being single is okay and good actually is really important. that you can very much be happy without a relationship.

nonetheless there is of course the human need for affection, a longing for romantic/sexual companionship (i know some people dont have that and it doesnt make them less human but i think its normal human desire that cant be unconditioned, and i dont even think that should be the goal). and you can barely protect yourself from sociocultural messaging which is additionally enforcing it. even if you rationally know that there is nothing wrong with being single, especially as a woman its difficult to shake this feeling of being a failure. always seeing your friends go through the motions while you remain the same. etc

anyways im really vulnerable right now if any insane women want to take advantage of me…

[wilmonsfolklore]

Wilmon+

"No, no, don't leave me here!"

Sophia thanks for the fun sentence!! <33

"No, no, don't leave me here!" Wille's tone was playful as he sat up to catch Simon's hand and the sheets around his waist threatened to fall away.

"I'm just going to the bathroom," Simon answered with an eyeroll, but he indulged himself and leaned forward to press yet another kiss on the corner of Wille's mouth. This would be the first time the two of them wouldn't be in the same room since they met in a club last night, and Wille knew it was fucking crazy but he didn't want to be away from Simon ever again, so he groaned dramatically.

"I'll be right back, I promise," Simon said, as he carefully freed his hand from the hand of Wille, who looked dazzling in the morning light coming through Wille's curtains.

Finally Wille let him go, but not before he pulled Simon down for another kiss - he'd been left in bed before by boys he liked, but he felt different about this one, he felt so much more for Simon, he felt so sure, so he said: "Good."

Send me a ship and a sentence and I will write the next five!!

[defeateddetectives]

was having natsume's book of friends vs. matoba's book of enemies* thoughts again while waiting for the subway earlier today as one does and thinking about their default standing at the start of not just the series but also their lives and then throughout

many others have written probably far more coherently about this being a story about different takes on legacy which never ever stops to fascinate me but the way that natsume starts his life born as grandchild of reiko who vanished into obscurity but was immensely powerful and able to make contracts with immensely powerful yokai (often after beating them through either simple friendly games or trickery but never cruelty) and grows up with no real sense of connectedness with family until much later and inherited this collection of contracts that he now takes it upon himself to release them from these contracts as a way to restore the balance :)

and matoba who is born into notoriety into the strongest clan of exorcists (who by definition eradicate yokai) growing up with an identity impossible to extricate from his family and inheriting threats and curses and immense power that the entire exorcist community counts on him to uphold even as they hate him for it on top of inheriting mistrust from human and yokai alike what with the inability to make a contract because of his name alone and inheriting a legacy of violence and cruelty and so has continued to perpetuate it because there seems to be no other viable alternative to maintain the status quo of remaining the head of the strongest exorcist clan which is supposed to be his one (1) job :)))

[*the matoba seiji pov series that lives in my head]

[theheadlessgroom]

@beatingheart-bride

At this moment of reminiscense, Dorian and Elizabeth's eyes met, and their smiles mirrored one another as Elizabeth commented off-handedly:

"I think I'm beginning to understand that feeling."

Walking behind the two younger couples, unable to resist cooing over her sleeping granddaughter just as her mother was, June caught little snatches of the conversation, with certain remarks just happening to make her ears prick up a little more, though she never let her face show what she was thinking and feeling, to say nothing of refusing to give voice to these thoughts. As she had told Lon earlier in the month, she had her theories, but at the end of the day, whatever was on Dorian and Elizabeth Gracey's mind was theirs to announce, and she certainly wasn't going to impede upon that.

At the very least, when the party had made it back to the attic, and Randall and Emily quietly took the twins to their room for a nap, she took Elizabeth aside for a moment, venturing to say, choosing her words carefully, "Well, if you do ever feel sick again, if any nausea or soreness pops up again...please, don't hesitate to come to me. I'd like to help in any way I can."

Elizabeth studied June's face for a moment, remaining calm upon this suggestion being put to her-the matriarch's face was just as calm as her own, and there was a gentle sincerity in the way she smiled at her, to say nothing of something of a mischievous twinkle to her eye, a sort of subtle, knowing look that reminded Elizabeth of her own mother, and the looks she would give her one and only daughter when she knew something was afoot.

But even with that look, the mistress of Gracey Manor knew Mrs. June Pace was a woman she could trust, and so she flashed her an appreciative smile, saying, "If anything comes up, I'll be sure to look to you first. Thank you, June."

"Think nothing of it, Elizabeth."

[sidereus-stars]

when the Steven Universe songs start playing

[ajaxxx-x]

At least he’s self aware

[jonsnowunemploymentera]

There are a lot of theories out there about the true identity of the last hero, but I think the one that makes the most thematic sense is that he was a member of the original Night’s Watch. See the last hero’s identity is shrouded in mystery but his deeds live on forever and he is attributed with having led to the defeat of the Others. The legends show that his actions are famous, but the man himself is forgotten.

This seems quite close to what being a member of the Night’s Watch entails. The Watch’s vows dictate that members, who are the sword in the darkness and the fire that burns against the cold thus directly marking them in opposition to winter and the Others, shall hold no lands, wear no crowns, and win no glory. They are known to the rest of the kingdoms as those who guard the realms of men, but their identities and individual triumphs are largely unimportant.

This is a shared parallel between the members of the Night’s Watch and the last hero. We don’t know anything about his name, house, or background. Even the title ‘the last hero’ is merely an identifier - note that it’s in lower case. So it would make sense that the last hero’s identity is to remain anonymous if that was the entire point of it all; he was a man of the Night’s Watch and thus, indirectly, swore a vow of anonymity. And better yet, we don’t even know who his twelve companions were. We know only that they rode out with him and died in the process. However we do know that in the north, there are two figures who are directly identified as having been responsible for the ending of the long night: the last hero (as per folk tales narrated by Old Nan) and the Night’s Watch (see the Night that Ended). It could be that the legend of the last hero and his twelve companions is a glimpse of the NW’s last stand.

I also think it’s interesting that we have various last hero parallels in the text who are members of the Night’s Watch. We first have Waymar Royce who seems very last hero-y in the AGOT prologue. Then we have Jon Snow who is implicitly identified by the narrative as a last hero figure. And it gets even more interesting when we consider that Jon has at many times stated that as a member of the night’s watch, he is to remain a shadow among all shadows. His greatest deeds are to go unnoticed and his name is not to be spoken in the halls of men. His deeds could live on, but his name won’t; even more interesting when we consider that Jon, due to his bastardy, technically doesn’t actually have a name to begin with. And what makes Jon’s connection to the last hero so poignant is that while the last hero’s name has been lost to history, Jon has a whole thing about being a lost and forgotten prince/king.

But there’s a rather unexpected last hero parallel in Sam Tarly, also a member of the Night’s Watch. Sam is not magically special, nor is he marked as someone with a particularly important bloodline or destiny. However, he is the first person in thousands of years to slay an Other. And he did that using a shard of dragonglass, which provides an interesting callback to the last hero’s dragonsteel blade. There’s also the parallel of both heroes being the last men standing after an Other attack. But interestingly enough, there’s a slight deviation in that though we still do not know who the last hero was, we do know of Sam the Slayer.

So it’s entirely possible that the last hero was one of the members of the original NW. And this makes for a rather interesting foil in another character who is explicitly stated as having a relationship with the Others - the Night’s King. It’s interesting if both figures have some background with the NW due to the dichotomy that arises. The last hero kept his vows and wore no crown and got no glory, but the Night’s King very directly broke his. The last hero protected the realms of men, while the Night’s King embarked of a path of destruction. And he was, quite famously, a member of the Night’s Watch (and is even identified as having been the 13th lord commander). But it’s interesting that while we don’t really know of the Night’s King’s true identity, we are actually given multiple clues by the narrative. We’re even told that he may have been a Brandon Stark - thereby having a name which the last hero doesn’t. But even then, just as it was with the last hero, the Night’s King has deeds which live on forever even though his name (very deliberately) has not.

[anomaly-beans]

Everybody give it up for Merry "more exes than they can count actually happy relationships in their life" Darthfellow!

[seokmattchuus]

teaching matthew how to choke you safely… guiding his hand to your neck… hes so nervous but so eager to please……… i cant deal with this alone please tell me you understand

I HAVEN'T EVEN BEEN UP FOR AN HOUR OHMYGOD 😭😭

Hear me out.

He's kinda nervous, you can see the gulps he's taking as his hand closes around you. The feeling of your pulse under him is probably something that groups him.

"You can start slow."

You said it but he doesn't fully process, he's not moving. You trail a hand up his forearm and give it a light squeeze, bringing him back to you.

You give him a small nod and a soft "It's okay."

He knows you'd tap him three times if it was too much. You talked about. But he still can't bring himself to do it.

His hold closes just a smidge and the anticipation is too much for you. You lick your lips, slightly squirming.

"Matthew, please~"

It's breathy. Almost a whine, but it's too quiet.

His hand closes a bit more in shock, at the shift in tone. He'd be lying if he said it didn't do something to him. His eyes dart towards yours just in time to see them close, your hand gripping his arm.

And that's all the reassurance he needs.

[zackmartin]

henry 🤝 zack

hanging out with an eccentric inventor that exclusively wears coveralls

[random-xpressions]

[lem-argentum]

reminiscing on when i was playing end.walker and got through all the heartwarming scenes before boarding the ragnarok andnh then they justj killed th.ancred instantly

[honnepot]

The Copper Crown

FOR @flashfictionfridayofficial

Word count: 974

Male x Male

[Henry needs a distraction from his looming wedding. He meets a wandering Knight.]

When his mother was angry, she’d fume in her study. She'd pen her displeasure on scraps of paper, never read by any other eyes but her own. When his father was angry, he’d storm out of the estate and partook to the warmth of liquor that muddled his mind. He'd return home the next morning smelling like the stables.

Henry had tried his mother’s form of distraction. Locking himself in his study, so when Elizabeth yelled, the wooden door would muffle it and hid the sight of her angry tears. He’d try to write down his frustrations like his mother. But the admissions in his own words; of his true character, one he could never utter into existence without repercussions to his name had been too much to bear. Even the act of writing it down made his hand quiver as he held the quill tight. A penned remorse for turning his childhood friend into an antagonist to his life because he could not love her the way she did. As she had done for some time.

And so, he followed in his father’s footsteps. He walked out the doors of his estate at the eve of his wedding and into a carriage, instructing the coachman to take him to the farthest alehouse. There, the name Briarwood would be nothing but an itch to the mind rather than an open revelation of his certain prestige.

He found refuge in a tavern with an intimate charm. The Copper Crown, with its flickering lanterns on the low-beamed ceilings, they casted an amber glow on tapestried walls and worn wooden tables stained with the heavy scent of ale. The patrons huddled in their respective tables, some conversations lively and merry, others echoed in gentle somberness.

The nobleman had found a corner to himself, immersed in the shadows of his thoughts. He drank the brewed ale hoping to drown the weight of his impending union with its heady warmth and ease the burden on his heart. But it seemed that he was rather inept in hiding his afflictions, as a man stopped by his table. And Henry’s ears alone became privy to the rich velvet tone of the stranger’s voice. His chaotic thoughts silenced by just a few words.

“Evening, care for some company?” 

Henry looked at the man. Dark, tousled hair that danced a tint of red in the lantern light framed his striking face, sculpted well by time and hinted at years of daring adventures. His eyes, the colour of midnight, intense yet inviting, especially at how they wandered to study Henry in the same way his own eyes studied him. Manners told the nobleman to nod and offer a hand,

“H-Henry.” He mentally cursed at the stutter of his own name.

The man’s hand was large and rough. He shook Henry’s hand with the firm grip of a swordsman and sat at the empty chair,

“Callum.”

Their conversation flowed like a dance, a delicate interplay of words and silence that blossomed with intrigue. Henry blamed the ale for his sudden openness to this stranger, as court life taught him to be tight-lipped with information of his life. Though he does not downplay Callum’s adept way of unraveling his guarded heart, with a well-timed smirk, a dulcet chuckle, or a playful tease that bordered the temptations of intimacy.

“This place,” Callum gestured to the Copper Crown, “is where people go to find reprieval from their lives. What brings you here? Aside from the obvious desire for a drink?”

Henry hesitated; his gaze momentarily lost in the depths of his ale. "A wedding." he finally admitted, the word heavy with both duty and reluctance.

Callum's eyes glinted with curiosity. "Ah, weddings. Joyous occasions,” he stopped to study the defeated look on Henry’s face, “or so I am told. Are you... the blushing groom-to-be, then?"

A bitter chuckle escaped Henry's lips. "Yes. Though not willingly... it is a union born out of duty, not love."

Callum leaned back into his chair, his strong arms held across his broad chest as his eyes held a mischievous glint, “Well, that does explains a lot then.”

When Henry looked at him confused, Callum continued with his observation, his words laced with a teasing charm, “You look as if you're about to face a monster, my dear Henry."

Again, Callum had a way to weaken his defense as he laughed ruefully at the accurate analogy. His marriage did seem like a dreadful looming creature ready to pounce and devour him. As he did, Callum leaned forward and his legs briefly brushed against Henry’s. An accident, Henry told himself as his laughter slowly faded.

“Need of a rescue? Shall I be your knight in shining armour, and whisk you away from the jaws of matrimony?” He asked with a sly tilt of his – to Henry’s observation – very kissable lips.

Henry tore his eyes away from Callum as his neck felt like it was searing in heat, “I'm afraid, that I'm past the point of rescue.”

Undeterred, Callum leaned even closer, his voice a velvet whisper that held allure and a promised liberation, "What about a distraction, then? Something to divert your thoughts from your impending doom?"

He reached across to graze Henry’s hand with his own. The touch sent a subtle thrill through Henry, of a sensation he had long suppressed. He looked up to see Callum’s suggestive smile, the offer one he’d dreamt of for years yet never enacted on. Tonight is his last night as a bachelor and though Henry contemplated, his heart had already been set the moment Callum offered his company.

At last Henry nodded. "A distraction, yes. Even if just for the night."

They left the tavern discreetly, hand in hand and disappeared into the night. Henry returned home the next morning, smelling like the stables.