#positive hot takes

[marzipanandminutiae]

Pick your poison: Mika Flanagan's Haunting of Hill House or Greta Gerwig's Little Women

fuuuuuuuuuuuck

you know what? the Flanagan Hill House at least gave the Hyman siblings some money and my friend who knows two of them says they're very nice. they lost their mother mother tragically when they were like 22-14. they deserve this. so I pick that one

[dreamers-collective]

Reminder that you can wholeheartedly love your system and sysmates and still have days where you feel tired of being a system. Sometimes being a system makes hard days easier, but sometimes it makes them harder, and that’s okay too.

[charlesemersonwinchesteriii]

STOP calling his little barrel a cuck chair it's NOT a cuck chair my best friend Christos confirmed Hodge CHOSE to sit separate from the nasty little mutineers so he could look at them DISRESPECTFULLY. if anything this is his FUJOSHI THRONE

[seducedwithlingerie]

Dressed for action

[vero-niche]

unexpectedly, my half-asleep written mini-rant has been quite well received on bluesky, so might as well share it here too:

and some of my favourite replies:

[s0fter-sin]

ghost who was chemically castrated by roba and soap who wants to help him to regain his sexual autonomy

nsfw, angst, roba, unnegotiated unsafe but consensual gun play, hopeful ending

💀🧼

ghost walks like it hangs low.

there’s a tilt to his hips and a spread in his thighs and johnny’s never been able to stop staring.

and ghost’s never asked him to.

he knows he’s seen him; he’s not exactly discreet. he swears he’s even seen him cock his hips out before to give him a better view. but he always pulls back just as they toe the line; verbal cold water on the tentative heat they almost can’t help but spark when they’re together.

it’s never a no; johnny’s not so selfish of a cunt that he’d push when he knows he isn’t welcome. it’s always a reluctance; an “i wish i could,” never in so many words. an open ended “but…” as ghost circles the reason without ever actually saying it. johnny knows it’s something personal, something more than a difference in rank could ever excuse.

so he backs off when ghost does, jokes instead of flirts and holds his breath through the agonising wait until ghost lets him in close again. waits to know if he’ll let him close again.

it’s almost anticlimactic, the end of their dance; his delicate steps and looping logic to work out why bulldozed as ghost comes out and says one random night, “i can’t fuck.”

it’s not bitter. it doesn’t grate coming out of his throat; he doesn’t spit it like it’s something to be ashamed, not twisted with insecurity as if it’s an accusation by an ex.

it’s a statement of fact.

“you can’t fuck,” johnny echoes anyway because even if it is the reason, the big why… it still doesn’t really answer anything.

“i can’t get it up,” he elaborates, this horrid blankness in his eyes like he’s reading from a script. “whatever you’re looking for, whatever you want- i can’t give it to you.”

johnny just looks at him, the chill air prickling his skin. “right,” he nods calmly. “because my interest in you starts and ends with your dick.”

that blank calm shatters. “johnny…” he warns.

“do you really think i’m that shallow?” he cuts in, curing himself for the way his voice breaks but he never thought ghost would think so low of him; that this whole time, ghost’s thought that’s the only thing he wants from him. “like i’d take you for a ride ‘n just drop you?”

“there’s a difference between not gettin’ it for one night and never gettin’ it at all,” ghost growls, turning his back on him to lean against the edge of the roof. his shoulders heave and the anger seeps from him in one long breath. “it’s not a hitch, johnny. not a performance issue or ptsd or whatever the fuck you’re thinkin’. it’s permanent. irreversible.”

irreversible.

johnny stops, cold creeping up his limbs and dousing his defensive anger. ghost is many things and when it comes to his words, chief amongst them all is deliberate. he didn’t say it’s unfixable. incurable.

irreversible.

johnny buries his selfish hurt and scuffs his boots, an unobtrusive warning of movement, and comes up beside him; just enough distance between them to catch their breaths. he leans back against the ledge and looks over the opposite side of the roof at the dark sky.

“mexico,” he murmurs. not an accusation. not even really a question but ghost collapses in on himself anyway; sinking into his crossed arms digging into the ledge.

“mexico,” he agrees just as quietly. “‘pparently, roba found it more entertaining to let me keep it but- cut the cords. more demeaning that way; cock’s gone, at least you don’t feel the urge. don’t have to look at the fuckin’ thing hang there when nothin’ fuckin’ works.

“it’s not ‘bout how i see you, johnny,” ghost promises and it’s almost apologetic. “but you like sex. eventually, you’ll want it. and i can’t give it to you. easier to just… not let it get to that point.”

johnny’s jaw flexes. everything in him wants to reject it, wants to protest that something as trivial as an orgasm is more important to him than ghost.

but he also knows words are useless here.

they stand there looking out into the gathering dark, tense silence hanging between them, and the only thing johnny knows is if he isn’t careful, he could lose the one person he cares about most.

💀🧼

ghost’s been uneasy since his abrupt confession.

he knows it was sudden, borderline cruel to dump his shit on johnny with no warning but he just couldn’t take it anymore; couldn’t take the back and forth when he knew it would never go anywhere, couldn’t take johnny’s hope when he knew he’d have to watch it twist into disgust and pity.

into disappointment.

he figures that’s the end of it; there’ll be no more flirting now, no more staring or heated looks, no more teasing him by spreading his knees out just to see the flash of hunger in his eyes. the control he felt playing with johnny knowing it was welcome, just because he could- he’ll never feel that again. not now that johnny knows the truth.

then he steps into his room to find johnny laying naked on his bed.

he’s not spread out like an offering, not throwing him some cheap sultry glance as he plays with himself. he’s not even hard; his cock limp over the cradle of his balls, his legs bent loosely together, arms under his head as if he’s settling down for the night.

ghost sighs and shuts the door behind him. “johnny…”

“i know,” johnny says and it’s gentle; not cutting him off, just getting his attention. “just… hear me out?”

there’s nothing else to say. there’s nothing johnny can say or do to fix his violated body. but ghost still crosses his arms and leans back against the door like he can anyway.

johnny pushes himself up and off the bed, closing the distance between them but still giving him enough space to breathe; to open the door behind him, to escape.

“i can never know what was taken from you,” he starts and ghost’s fingers dig into his arms. “i can never know what it means to you. and i can never get it back.”

he doesn’t break eye contact and slowly lowers himself to his knees. “but i can give you something else.”

“you?” ghost guesses flatly and as much as it warms his blood, as much as he’s imagined having johnny look up at him just like this… it’s still not enough to offset the sickening swoop in his gut when his cock doesn’t so much as twitch.

“i’m a nice bonus,” johnny purrs but his smile remains gentle. “but i’m not the main event.”

he lifts a hand and ghost readies to smack it away when he reaches for his thigh holster instead of his belt. he flicks the closing strap open and pulls his handgun, his favourite, free.

“you told me you can’t fuck,” he murmurs, popping out the clip. he taps it against the side and loads it back in with a practiced hit with the butt of his palm. “but fucking isn’t all there is.”

“johnny, what…” ghost starts just to cut himself off as johnny thumbs off the safety and loads a round into the chamber.

“you trust me?” johnny asks and it’s as loaded as the gun in his hand.

good then, that ghost knows the answer. “always have.”

johnny’s smile blooms with warmth, with pride, and it chases away any reluctance he could possibly feel. he lets him take his hands in his, wrapping them around the gun with his finger on the trigger guard. he brings the barrel up beside his temple, holding it steady before his hands fall away.

until it’s only ghost between him and a bullet.

johnny’s hands go to his belt, his movements slow enough for ghost to stop him long before he reaches his cock, forever hanging limp in his pants. but he just rubs the muzzle along his temple, almost nuzzling him with the gun as he pulls down his jeans and boxers.

he waits for johnny to take him in hand, maybe try and pantomime a handy, and his hips almost recoil at the thought.

but he doesn’t try to touch him.

instead, he takes his wrist and guides the gun to sit in front of his cock; angling it to follow the same slight curve he has then holds his hands behind his back like he’s standing at attention. he splays his knees wide, sinking deeper and ghost sucks in a harsh breath as johnny ducks under the gun; his eyes locked on his as he curls his tongue under the barrel and brings it into his mouth.

it takes every ounce of will he has to not let his hand shake around the gun as johnny gives it the slowest, messiest blowjob he’s ever seen; slowly rising higher on his knees, guiding the gun up with him as if it’s his cock hardening. his cheeks hollow as he sucks, tongue laving up the barrel and flicking out to play with the muzzle like a cockhead, moaning with every bob of his head until saliva drips off the metal and makes a mess of his chin.

ghost’s never felt so powerful as he does watching johnny hang off the end of his gun; watching his cock harden and drool between his legs without a single touch, knowing he could pull the trigger at any time and johnny would not only let him but he’d thank him.

the thought breaks him from his paralysis, drawing the gun from his lips and johnny immediately stills; rolling his wide eyes up like he’s trying to check on him. ghost pushes every ounce of heat into his gaze and cocks the gun to the side, slowly pushing it back in until johnny’s lips meet the trigger guard.

johnny whines as he fucks his mouth, thrusting his hips along with each long drag like the gun is an extension of his body; almost too rough as tears prick his eyes and his lips redden and bruise but he never asks him to stop; his cock leaking a puddle on the floor beneath him.

“you gonna cum for me, johnny?” ghost croons, holding back a groan when just his voice is enough to make him shiver. “gonna cum with my fucking gun down your throat?”

he gives a broken whimper, as close to an agreement as he can make, and ghost crowds in close. he grips the base of his mohawk, wrenching his head back until his throat is flush to the front of his thigh. johnny lets out a choked cry, eyes rolling back and he doesn’t hold back as he brutally fucks his face; feeling the bulge of his gun in his throat against his leg.

“come on, johnny; you wanna be my good little holster?” he growls and makes sure he’s watching as his finger moves from the guard to the trigger. “then take my fucking load.”

he forces the gun as deep as he can and johnny gags, his shaking body locking up as he cums untouched; painting the floor and ghost’s boot, cock twitching and pulsing hard enough to bump against his belly and leave a string of cum threading from it to his cock.

ghost watches him spasm and moan, his throat convulsing around the gun and a heated knot of satisfaction tightens in his gut; so close to the memory of an orgasm, he’s almost dizzy with it.

johnny slumps forward, his hands slipping from behind his back, and ghost quickly flicks the safety back on and drops to his knees. he slides the gun away and pulls johnny forward to collapse into his chest, taking his weight off his knees; his whole body trembling with aftershocks.

“you’re crazy, johnny,” ghost whispers, awed, and feels him smile against his chest.

“aye,” he agrees, voice raspy from his gun scraping up his throat. “how else am i supposed to prove that i mean it?”

ghost tries not to tense up; tries not to let hope sink its cruel roots into his chest. “mean it?”

johnny pulls back, his cheeks still flushed and sticky with spilled tears. “i’m yours, ghost; in any and every way you’ll have me,” he promises. “sex or no sex. this can never happen again and i’ll still never stop wanting you. it doesn’t matter to me as much as you do. you’re everythin’ to me, ghost. not your body; not what you can give me. just you.”

a knot crowds in his throat. “and you needed to deep throat my pistol to prove that?” he deflects.

and just like always, johnny lets him. “worked, didn’t it?” he winks. “you fucked my brains out.”

ghost rolls his eyes to hide the softness he knows is flooding them and helps johnny up and gets him into his shower; cleaning him of the sweat and cum and spit covering his body.

that ghost covered his body in.

his chest hitches at the reminder as he strips himself down to a single layer and all but falls into bed, tugging johnny in after him when he hesitates just slightly at the edge of the bed; splaying his still naked body over him, sated and loose.

“i really do mean it,” johnny whispers into the crook of his neck sometime later; when their breaths have settled and synced.

ghost sweeps his fingers up and down the length of his spine, skin he’s never seen. skin he now knows every inch of. “i know you do,” he whispers back.

and for once, he thinks it might be enough.

[danandfuckingjonlmao]

atp phil’s like “ffs i wish i could hit you with a car then i wouldn’t have to be stuck with your annoying dramatic ass 🙄”

[rq2bdamned]

Yes, I think recovering sex offenders / abusers should be able to heal and become better people.

Completely fine if you don't want them around you , but I do think if they're truly willing to put in the effort to get better they should be given that chance.

[sunshinelikerain]

i could be the one or your new addiction

[npd-hottakes]

Normalize not caring about shit that doesn't affect oneself. Just because someone doesn't care doesn't mean they support it.

Respect people without empathy.

[stripedstarsblueflags]

“lando norris is ruining f1 for me!”

f1, really? the whole of f1?

you mean the same f1 where zhou guanyu dragged a car only slightly more aerodynamic than a cinder block into Q3 because it was his home race? the same f1 where esteban ocon and lance stroll are two of the most hated drivers on the grid but despite coming from absolutely opposite backgrounds they’ve still found comfort and happiness in each other? the same f1 where george russell has spent his entire mercedes time wearing a sign that says “will never be as good as his teammate” and still treats lewis with ultimate admiration and respect? the same f1 where logan sargeant was cast out in the most disgraceful way possible and the two people who were the closest to him on the grid came together and said the same thing about his greater potential in the face of that decision? the same f1 where esteban and pierre have been enemies for years and are finally starting to learn how to drive as a team? the same f1 where max has outperformed every single teammate he’s ever had and still continues to stand up for checo? the same f1 where nico and kevin went from a bitter and fuming rivalry to fighting tooth-and-nail, claws-out for each other on and off the track? the same f1 where danny ric got kicked to the curb by his team with the most pathetic excuse for a goodbye (if you could even call it that) ever so the WHOLE GRID joined in trying to make him feel remembered? the same f1 where charles finally won his home race after years of anguish and humiliation and was so overwhelmed that he basically fell into his teammate’s arms, the same teammate who strategized and defended for him the whole race? the same f1 where charles and max have been rivals since they first knew the other existed and are STILL the first ones to congratulate each other even if one of them wins and the other spends the whole race trying to manhandle his car to the finish line in one piece? the same f1 where logan’s crash caught fire and george was about to leave his car on a live track and pull him to safety if logan didn’t move? the same f1 where alex won’t let frustration or anger turn into a single negative word about another driver because he has enough empathy for the whole paddock?

that f1?

[marzipanandminutiae]

Popular opinions of Bridgerton?

Oh, well, that's easy. Love the racially diverse casting and the no-brainer to make Stunning Goddess Nicola Coughlan a romantic lead. Next!

[s0lavellan]

Let us see if they have heard the legends of The Dread Wolf.

[darlingod]

It’s just… it is everything that Cardan thought Jude would notice his “SO OBVIOUS” exile riddle and thinks Jude to not hesitate to come back. Beside his certainty of her cleverness to piece the riddle together, he believed he was that clear about his feelings toward her; he had thought she absolutely ought to know how he feels for her.

Like oh buddy. BUDDY. Your wife had thought of the answer to your little riddle like you thought she would. But guess what? She has detrimental TRUST ISSUES. (Like… Ur super mean and hot, I can’t blame her.) Anyway.. it’s SUPER adorable of him to so wholeheartedly believe she wouldn’t question his trust. It reveals so much about his pov of thier relationship.

Jude thought Cardan’s (silly) trick was a (vile) trick, when it was simply a: “Im trying to impress/pay you back in kind with our romantic metaphorical sparring and eventually get you out of political drama for a bit,” trick.

I’m fucking laughing wow these delusional ass children I fucking love them.

[ceoandslutler]

the way antis will agree with most proship ideas until it clicks in their brain that it's associated with "proshipping" is the same as how self proclaimed conservatives/right wingers will agree with left/socialist/communist ideas until they realise what those ideas fall under

[mrmeepsmadmind]

they are ignoring my big beautiful pathetic himbo wife and his cute little platypus tail that he has for some tank part reason im too dumb to understand why