#so much of therapy is being willing (in my experience)

[writingsbytee]

SEXUAL HEALING

TERRY RICHMOND x BLACK FEM READER

WARNING / TRIGGERS: Reader is DEPRESSED, no thoughts of self harm or un-aliving herself. Babygirl is just having a depressive episode. Depressed themes, Sexual themes, explicit sexual content; dirty talk; soft Dom,

SUMMARY: Reader is depressed and Terry fucks her out of it

WORD COUNT: 3.8k

*Remember you are in charge of your own consumption. 18+ up audiences only; minora please don’t interact!*

 *Also, this is complete fiction. I'm writing about the reader’s depression simply based on my experiences and knowledge of depression. I’m in NO WAY saying that this is what depression is for every individual. This is a safe space. If you or someone you know is struggling with their mental health please reach out to your local crisis center so that they can provide resources. Read with care. Love you guys <3*

This hasn’t been proofread

You groaned as your phone rang yet again, reaching out from under your blankets, your hand blindly slapping your bedside table in search of the device. Checking to see who called, a pained sigh leaves your lips. Terry, your boyfriend called you 4 times in the past hour. Deciding to put him out of his misery you answer the call.

“Hello?”, you say, not even bothering to hide the quiver in your voice.

“Babygirl? What’s wrong?,” Terry asked, his voice sounding frantic. 

A watery sigh leaves your lips, “I’m having a moment Terry, I’ll be ok. It’s just taking a little bit longer for me to come out of it.” 

I hear Terry’s door shut on the other line, “I’m on my way sweet girl, Daddy’s coming”

A muffled sob leaves your mouth at Terry’s words. Always willing to stop whatever he’s doing to help you fight the demons constantly plaguing your mind. Religious therapy and an antidepressant regimen seemed to keep the dark thoughts at bay. Every now and then the debilitating thoughts would come back rendering you useless. Your apartment desperately needed a deep clean as well as your room. Your bed becoming a cesspool, you slept, ate, and cried in the same spot for a little over a week now. 

Rolling onto your back you let out a deep sigh, wanting to be normal and not a basket case full of emotions. 

45 MINUTES LATER

You could hear your front door open and close, signaling that Terry arrived. You heard him set bags down in your kitchen before his light footfalls made his way to your room. He knocked twice before peeking his head in. Terry’s small smile dropped when he saw the state of you and your room. It broke his heart to see you this way.

“Aww honey, I’m here,” Terry said walking toward you. Tear tracks making their way down your face and silent sobs wracked your body.

“I’m so sorry, Terry. I didn’t mean to make you come all the way down here,” You said, covering your face with your hands. Terry gently grabbed your hands, removing them from your face. 

“Sweet girl, never apologize because the air gets a little too heavy for you. That’s why I’m here to take some of the load off,” Terry said with a small smile. Your  gentle green-eyed giant, you  grabbed your glasses, putting them on.

You brought a hand up to his cheek, “You’re too good for this world Terry Richmond. Thank you, for being what I never knew I needed,” you say with all the sincerity you can muster. 

Terry’s eyes shine with unshed tears, “you’ll never have to go through these feelings alone again. Baby when I said I wasn’t going anywhere I meant that. You’re stuck with me sweetheart,” Terry finishes, with a watery smile of his own. He gently raises me into a sitting position.

“Here’s what I want you to do. I brought you your favorite body wash shampoo, conditioner and those wax things you like so much. Go take a shower, wash your hair,pamper yourself. I’m going to get started on your sheets. Okay babygirl?”, he asked. Your eyes practically turned into hearts looking at Terry. 

A small smile formed on your lips as you said a gentle, “Okay, Daddy.”

His smile widened, leaning forward to place a kiss on your forehead. “There’s my girl. Now go get cleaned up, I’ll take care of everything else.” You nodded, rising slowly, and made your way into the bathroom. You didn’t dare glance at yourself in the mirror. Not in the mood for the thoughts to take hold again. Turning on the shower as hot as it would get you stepped in, ready to wash the bad thoughts away. 

Meanwhile, Terry was in your room replacing your dirty sheets, putting them in the wash, and tidying up around your apartment. He hated that he couldn’t save you from your thoughts, but he’d be damned if he didn’t try. He understood that everyone’s trauma affected them differently. His put him in attack mode, while yours forced you to shut down. 

As you washed your hair, you could feel your sense of self slowly returning. You found peace in taking care of yourself. Detangling your curls felt as if you were brushing away all the bad thoughts. Exfoliating was like scrubbing away your impurities, leaving you shiny and new. You don’t know why you couldn’t muster up the strength to take the 15 foot walk to your bathroom. But that’s depression in a nutshell, making the most mundane tasks feel like climbing mount everest. You spent at least an hour in the bathroom, when you emerged you felt like a different person. Your heart warmed at the sight of your room, new sheets adorned your bed with a new hello kitty plushie and pajama set.

Exiting your room, you start searching for your boyfriend. Finding him in your living room playing your favorite vinyl and watering your plants. You will yourself not to cry at Terry’s selflessness, you just run up behind him wrapping his torso in a hug. 

“Hey, baby. Feeling better?”he asks, turning to face you. You place a kiss right above his heart, looking up at him you nod.

“Yeah honey, thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you” you say, staring up at him adoringly.  

Terry pet your head lovingly, “Let’s hope you never have to find out. Now go make yourself comfortable, I ordered your favorite vietnamese take-out and I’m going to rub your feet until it gets here.”

A warm gooey feeling spreads from your head to your toes. A slow grin taking over your face at your adonis of a boyfriend takes care of your body, mind, and soul. Settling into your sectional, you wiggle your toes playfully urging him closer. Terry chuckles through his nose, making his way toward you. Sliding down beside you , he grabbed both of your legs, placing them on his lap.

“Relax baby, Daddy’s here now and I’m going to take care of you,” Terry said, running his hands up your bare calves. His touch warms your skin instantly. A content sigh leaves your lips as you rest your head on the arm of your sofa.

“Good girl,” Terry said, grabbing your right foot. He began slowly, just caressing your feet adding a tickle here and there pulling small giggles from your lips. Terry started to work on your foot starting slowly on your instep, applying light pressure. Then he moved to your arch applying pressure that was almost painful, causing a gasp to leave your lips.

“You’ve got a knot here, be patient I’ll work it out,” Terry said, digging in deeper. An involuntary moan leaves your lips, the release of the tenson expelling through your lips. Terry smirked, his plan was working. This kept going for a while, Terry expertly massaging your feet, and you moaning like he was massaging somewhere else. You're getting wetter by the minute. 

The doorbell interrupts your massage as a groan leaves your lips, “I was just starting to relax,” you whined.  Terry lets out a chuckle before getting up. Leaning to kiss your forehead, “You’ll have plenty of time to relax later, trust me.” And with that, he heads toward the door to grab the food. Terry doesn’t let you lift a finger while he plates the food for you two. Just advising you to find something “good to watch.” With a smirk, you put on your favorite show at the moment, ‘True Blood.’ Terry liked the show surprisingly, being the first of your boyfriends to take an interest in YOUR interests. What he didn’t like was how googly-eyed you got over Alcide. As trivial as it was, he wasn't going to sit and watch you drool over another man. 

Plating your food,

Terry brought it to you. Plopping down next to you on the couch with a plan in mind, Terry just sat back and watched you enjoy your food. A small satisfied sigh leaves your lips at the first bite. 

“Mmm, it’s so good! Thank you baby” you say, leaning in to kiss Terry’s cheek. He could feel his cheeks warm at your gratitude, placing a hand on your thigh and squeezing. Your breath hitched when Terry’s hand refused to leave your thigh. Instead tracing small circles while you ate. 

After finishing your food you and Terry cuddled up on your sofa with a blanket. Rubbing his chest you say, “Thank you for everything Terry, I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

Terry looks down at you grasping your chin forcing your brown eyes to meet his mossy green ones. “I’m just doing my job baby. What kind of man would I be if I let my woman suffer alone? I’m here for you, I love you, and I’ll always make sure you’re taken care of.” Terry’s hand migrated to the back of your neck, pulling you in excruciatingly slow. He watched your face change. Eyes become low, lips parting, and your breathing turns shallow. 

Terry inches impossibly closer, your lips a hair’s width apart, “What do you want, pretty girl?”

“Kiss me, please?” you ask, fingers coming up to grip his t-shirt. A small devious smirk makes its way onto Terry’s face as he leans down, lips brushing against yours. The anticipation is killing you. You two were practically sharing the same breath, yet Terry wouldn’t close the gap and lay one on you. 

“Please, Daddy? Let me thank you, I’ve been good haven't I?” you ask, looking up at Terry with the doe eyes that he loves so much. 

A groan leaves his lips as Terry places your bowl on the coffee table “You know what that look does to me, baby. C’mere,” and then his lips are on you. A surprised moan leaves your lips as you pull Terry closer, sucking his lips between yours. He grabs your hips positioning you on his lap, right atop his growing bulge. 

“How are you feeling honey, still sad? What can Daddy do?” Terry asks, his hand grasping and pulling at the fat of your ass. Grinding you against thick dick. 

“Touch me, please Daddy”, you whine. You could feel yourself soaking through the seat of your sleep shorts, having forgone underwear. Terry smiles against your lips, “I am touching you pretty girl”. Pulling back for air, you move your attention to his thick neck. Placing wet open mouthed kisses there migrating up to his ear, nipping and sucking at the lobe. You hear Terry’s breath stutter drawing a smile from your lips. Terry pulls back in time to see the bright dopey smile on your face and he places a kiss on your nose.

Pulling your shirt over your head, Terry's eyes lock on plump mahogany breasts and chocolate nipples. 

“Fuck, pretty girl. You’re not playing fair,” Terry says, head dropping onto the back of the sofa. A soft giggle leaves your lips. You slither up Terry’s body like a cat in heat, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“C’mon Daddy don’t you wanna feel how wet I am for you? Just for you,” you whisper into Terry’s ear, finishing with a lick. A small ‘fuck’ leaves Terry’s lips as his hand comes cracking down on your ass forcing a small yelp to leave your lips. 

“Keep that up baby and I’ll give you exactly what you’re asking for,” Terry said, playing with your shorts. Pulling them halfway down to jiggle your ass or tugging them high up your ass giving your clit the much needed friction you craved. You two were making out like porn stars, sloppily, lips glistening with spit. You pulled back to look at Terry, his eyes half mast filled with need and desire for you. You’re positive your face looks the same. Terry picks you up off his lap, setting you next to him on the sofa as he gets up. Turning on your sunset lamp and turning off the lights to create an ethereal glow around your living room. Then he moves pieces of your sectional together making it a day bed of some sort. 

“Strip babygirl, I want you naked by the time I get back,” Terry commands, then picks up your leftovers, and heads back to the kitchen. It was embarrassing how fast you threw the sticky shorts off. Your pussy was talking and Terry hadn’t even touched you yet. As you wait for Terry, you start massaging your tits. Nipples forming tight peaks, tugging and pulling creates a throb you feel straight down to your clit.  Small moans started leaving your lips. The ache between your thighs growing almost painful as you whined, waiting for your man to return and fuck you stupid. After five minutes you almost debate finding him.

“Terrrrryyyy,” you cry out. When you get no response you peek over your shoulder, when you don’t see him you decide to start on your own. Sliding your hands down your body, you’re about to reach your pussy when Terry’s hand grabs yours, pulling a gasp from you. 

“I said strip, when did I tell you to touch my pussy?”Terry's looking down his nose at you. 

“I’m sorry, Daddy I need you please!” You whine, sitting up. Terry makes his way around the sofa looking like a lion stalking his prey. He stands in front of you crossing his arms, a cup in one hand. 

“Spread those legs for me mama,let me see my pussy,” Terry said. Your legs fell open immediately the quiet ‘schlick’ heard between the two of you. Terry’s eyes darken, the color of a stormy sea and he takes a step toward you. 

“Hands behind your back sweetheart, you know the drill,” Terry purrs, crawling on the sofa. Taking a long sip from his cup before setting it down. Like an obedient little slut you put your hands behind your back with a small smile on your face, “Like this papa?” you asked. 

Terry dropped his head and groaned, “I’m trying to make you wait babygirl, I’m two seconds away from burying my face in that sweet pussy,” Terry said, his voice sounding like he was in pain. 

“C’mon papa look at how ready she is for you, she couldn’t wait for you to get your hands on her,” you scooched your ass further down the sofa, practically planting your pussy on his chin. With a growl, Terry was on top of you, hand clutching your cunt. 

Terry started massaging your clit with his fingers releasing a relieved moan from your lips. 

“Unh Terry, it feels good!” you said, head thrown back, and your back arched. 

A devilish smile formed on Terry’s lips. He loved the sounds you made when he played with you. 

“Make that sound again baby,” Terry said, tonguing your nipple. 

“Unh! Daddy!Take your pants off please. I want to feel you” you moan, gripping Terry’s neck. Pulling him down to lock your lips. Terry explored your pussy like it was his first time. Experimenting with how wet he could make you. Sliding his pants and boxers down he freed his monster of a dick. 

“I’m going to fuck you baby,but first tell me how bad you want it” Terry said, his finger picking up the pace on your clit.

“I want you so bad Terry,” you say leaning up to peck his lips over and over. 

A small chuckle leaves his lips, “Yeah? How bad? Let Daddy know sweetheart.” Terry’s working your clit between his fingers, the slick sounds permeating through your home. 

“Fuck Daddy I want you to take care of me like you always do . You’re such a good provider, always making sure I have what I need! Ouuu! Baby, right there! Yes! You’re going to make me cum, fuck!,” You moan out, your voice rising in pitch letting Terry know you were close. 

“Then come on my tongue sweet girl,” Terry leans down and takes your clit in his mouth. Your mouth falling open in a silent scream as your breath staccatos

“You look so pretty, baby. I love how wet this pussy gets for me. You ganna let Daddy fuck the bad thoughts away. Want me to make it feel better sweetie. Because I can, you know Daddy can help,” Terry slips two fingers into, causing your soul to leave your body. 

Combined with his suction on your clit, you stood no chance against the orgasm that rocked your body. “Oouuu Terry! Yesssss!”, you moaned as Terry worked your orgasm out of you.

“That’s right pretty girl, give me that orgasm,” Terry said, adding another finger. You were beyond seeing stars at this point. There was a full milky way galaxy dancing behind your eyes. Terry had a dark smirk on his face, loving the effect he had on you. He loved making you come, how you gave yourself over to him completely. He was surprised when you forced his fingers out of your pussy, a harsh stream of liquid following. A high pitched moan left your lips as your body shook.

“Yes Honey! That’s it!” Terry moaned, slapping your clit a few times. Your body shook and shuddered in the aftermath of your orgasm. Vision hazy as you tried to center yourself. Terry stripped off the rest of his clothes and hovered over you, his warmth seeping into your skin. 

“Hey, look at me baby,”Terry brought his finger to your face caressing you. Your eyes refocused on Terry’s soft ones, a small smile forming on your lips. Terry mirrored your expression, leaning down to press his lips against yours in a passionate sloppy kiss. Teeth and tongues clashing in a frantic meet of mouths. Both of you are trying to convey your love for one another. 

“Papa, I need you inside me” you wine against Terry’s lips. Terry doesn’t need to be told twice, he positions himself at your entrance and eases in. Both your lips part, needy moans releasing from your lips.

“Terry, Terry, Terry! Oh my god!” You moan as he sets a punishing rhythm. Punching your cervix with the fat mushroom head of his dick. You lose yourself in the feeling of being fucked by him. 

“How’s that feel baby, can you feel how much Daddy loves his sweet girl?” Terry asked. How he could ask you questions while digging your shit out like this is beyond you. You just moan and nod, his thrusts stealing the breath from your lungs.

“Words baby. I need to hear you say it. You’ll do that for daddy won’t you?” Terry asks, bringing his hand up to your throat applying slight pressure. The delicious feeling pulling a needy whine from your lips. Terry was hitting all your spots and you couldn’t think.

“Yes daddy, I feel it. I love it. I love you,” you moan your eyes slowly making their descent to the back of your skull. Terry loved when you started babbling on his dick, saying any and everything to please him. And please him it did. 

Terry felt like a man possessed, your pleasure the only thing on his mind determined to coax as many orgasms out of you as possible. He was going at you like a man on a mission. The push and pull, the slick sounds of him going in and out of your pussy driving him insane.  

“I love you more baby. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you with the dark thoughts, but I’m here now Daddy’s ganna fuck the depression out of you,” Terry said raising one of your knees so he could hit you even deeper.

You bring your hands up, grabbing Terry’s ass pulling him deeper inside you. “Baby you’re going to make me cummm!,” you moan out. Terry moans in your ear, pulling you in for another sloppy kiss. Terry releases your lips, leaning back to look at you. 

“Open your eyes pretty girl, I love the way you look when you come for me,” Terry was long past close. He wanted to cum so bad, but he wouldn’t, not until he felt your velvet walls pulse around his thick dick. 

“Cum with me Daddy! I need to feel you fill me up!,” You say reaching for Terry’s ears, rubbing them softly. Terry’s eyes start to roll in the back of his head. He loves it when you play with his ears.

“You’re so good to me Daddy, always taking care of me. You’re making me feel so good, thank you Daddy! Thank you for fucking the depression out of…” you never got to finnish your sentence. Orgasm hitting you like a bus. Terry was ejected from your pussy with the force, you squirted so hard your vision went white as a high pitched moan left your lips. Terry started in awe. He stood above you jerking his dick.

“Fuck that was so sexy baby I’m about to come,” Terry said. That all too familiar ache forming in his abdomen. Balls heavy and tight with the need to release. Your eyes regained their focus in just enough time to watch Terry erupt all over you. Painting you with his cum, a small smile formed on your face as his warm release landed on your breasts, tummy and legs. 

“Mm that was a big one daddy, thank you,” you moan, collecting his essence to taste. A moan leaves your lips as the salty, earthy musk hits your taste buds. Terry leans down, placing another kiss to your lips. 

“How do you feel now babygirl?” Terry asks, using the spare napkins to clean you up. 

You place a kiss on Terry’s cheek, “Much better Daddy, but I think I’m still a little sad” you said, smirking up at him. Terry shakes his head at you with a playful smile on his lips.

“Well you better go grab us some waters babygirl, I’m not done with you yet,” Terry said before lifting you over his shoulders to carry you to your room.

THE END <3

I think this might be the fastest I’ve ever written anything. I just really wanted to create a vulnerable piece, and I LOVE how this piece turned out. This is supposed to be a one shot but that’s TBD as of now. As always constructive criticism is encouraged but please take it easy on me, I’m sensitive.

TAGLIST: 

@blackgurlnhermoods @megamindsecretlair @dxddykenn @pinkkycherrish @pinkkycherrish @episodes-ff @kimuzostar @kianaleani @uzumaki-rebellion @urfavblackbimbo @shallipii @greatpandagladiator @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @theereina @pocketsizedpanther @mymindisneverhere @onherereading @nayaesworld @earthchica @skyesthebomb @gg-trini @blyffe @melalsworld @mogul93 @ms-mosley-ifunastyyy @sweettea-and-honeybutter @diaries-of-me @simplyzeeka @kumkaniudaku

[ghostlyferrettarot]

✨️🫧📀The 12th House in the

Signs📀🫧✨️

❗️All the observations in this post are based on personal experience and research, it's completely fine if it doesn't resonate with everyone❗️

✨️Paid Services ✨️ (Natal charts and tarot readings) Open!

📀If you like my work you can support me through Ko-fi. Thank you!📀

🫧Masterlist🫧

🫧It is considered a house of introspection, subconscious and ending cycles. This house is associated with the sign of Pisces and is considered the most spiritual and mystical of all astrological houses🫧

📀Aries in the 12th House: May indicate a need to find your own spirituality and do things your way. They may feel the need to distance themselves from the world and seek their own direction. They use much of their energy to confront their inner struggles, to which they never give up. In some cases you may be on the verge of losing the battle, but your perseverance will ensure that in the end you will be able to overcome your intimate problems.

📀Taurus in the 12th House: may indicate a need for connection with nature and the need for emotional security. They can be very intuitive and feel most comfortable in a calm and relaxed environment. They long for security. They like to have everything under control regarding their lives and that unforeseen events do not occur that alter their daily lives. Taurus natives in the 12th house are happy and self-confident and are willing to work hard so that they lack for nothing. .

📀Gemini in the 12th House: May indicate a need to find your own truth and connect with the subconscious world. They can be very imaginative and creative. They relate more to their spirituality, some seek time for seclusion, introspection, and reflection. Individuals have difficulty learning rigorously, mechanically, but they still acquire knowledge by paying attention, capturing the deeper messages.

📀Cancer in the 12th House: May indicate a need to find a spiritual home and connect with your family and your past. They can be very intuitive and sensitive, and may feel the need to work through their emotional problems through therapy and meditation. Their projects are linked to the affectivity they receive in the environments they frequent, it being important that these do not clash. with his own emotionality.

📀Leo in the 12th House: may indicate a need to find your own spirituality and connect with your creative and artistic side. They can be very creative and passionate, and may feel the need to work on their self-esteem and confidence. allows you to act with great independence. Enjoy being alone, reflecting calmly. He lacks that fear of loneliness that terrifies many people. For Leo it is more of a blessing. He knows how to fill space and time without needing to turn to anyone else.

📀Virgo in the 12th House: May indicate a need to work on your own personal development and connect with your spiritual side. They can be very analytical and perfectionist. Being interested in even the smallest detail in each project or action they undertake is a typical trait of Virgo in the 12th house. However, although at first glance it can be considered something effective and advisable, the truth is which can also have its dark side. Of course, as long as it is taken to the extreme.

📀Libra in the 12th House: May indicate a need for balance and harmony in your spiritual life. They can be very intuitive and balanced. They want to have tranquility and peace in their lives, it is a period of retreat and without much social interaction. They have a sense of justice and a desire for equality that is not manifested very visibly in their environments. Furthermore, when Libra is in the 12th house, the fantasies and dreams of the natives are awakened.

📀Scorpio in the 12th House: May indicate a need to work through your emotional issues and connect with the subconscious world. They can be very intuitive and sensitive, and may feel the need to work through their emotional problems through therapy and meditation. They are strongly drawn to mysteries. Everything that is hidden before the eyes of ordinary mortals is most interesting to them. They do not hesitate to immerse themselves in the enigmas they encounter, eagerly trying to reveal what they hide.

📀 Sagittarius in the 12th House: May indicate a need to find your own spirituality and connect with nature and the subconscious world. They can be very adventurous. Sagittarius natives in this house go through times when their religious beliefs are shaken. They discover that there are other points of view from which to see life in a different way. Sometimes open-mindedness will come from the recommendations of the most unexpected people. But they know that they must always be attentive to be able to listen, think about what they have learned and act later.

📀Capricorn in the 12th House: May indicate a need to find your purpose in life and connect with your spiritual side. They can be very disciplined and ambitious. The conception of Spirituality of individuals in this phase can be confused with social justice, with the existence of opportunities for everyone to have a dignified life. However, they are more driven by values of the practical life, to the satisfaction of the needs of employment, home, decent conditions for the development of the family, rather than with realities transcending the material world.

📀Aquarius in the 12th House: may indicate a need to find your own spirituality and connect with the subconscious world. They can be very innovative and creative. In this positioning, people can fulfill themselves through humanitarian activities of a spiritual nature. The concepts of harmony and wisdom develop. They feel a universal responsibility that involves spirituality, compassion and humility.

📀Pisces in the 12th House: May indicate a natural connection to the subconscious world and a need to explore your own spirituality. They can be very sensitive and empathetic. They are a compassionate person, although they do not usually show it externally. You have to dive a little inside yourself to discover someone who does care about others and always tries to do as little damage as possible in their discussions. You must let yourself be carried away by your sensitivity to know the different options through which you can channel your creativity.

[steddieasitgoes]

not so dirty little secret

written for @steddie-week Day 1 prompt: Mystery/Secret Relationship Rating: T | wc: 2128 | no cw Read on ao3

Steve’s lounging on the Munson’s couch, right-hand wrist deep in a bowl of popcorn, when Eddie stalks into the room. He’s got two beers in hand and is mumbling about something, words muffled by the rim of the beer bottle as he takes aggressive sips. It’s not unusual to hear but not understand what his rumblings are — Steve’s become accustomed to his quiet but loud brainstorming sessions. What is unusual, however, is the pinch of his brows and the slight downturn of his lips as he does so. Curious, Steve perks up and leans forward.  

“Penny for your thoughts?” 

Eddie gasps, scandalized. “My thoughts are worth at least a dime, Stevie!” 

Taking a more calculated, calming swig of his beer, he drapes himself on the couch beside Steve and sighs. “I think Wayne is knocking boots with someone.” 

The words leave Eddie’s mouth with a nonchalance, as if he’s giving Steve an update about the weather.  It’s something he does often with no explanation, at least not one Steve’s discovered yet, and it’s quickly becoming another quirk in a long list of ones he’s coming to love about Eddie.  

This though… this is a whole other monster. 

Steve's eyes widen and blink in confusion. His lips fall into a soft, confused pout as he tilts his head to the side — the tell-tale sign that he has no idea what Eddie is talking about. It’s a sign Eddie picks up on immediately, with — the both of them well-versed in their non-verbal body language as of now, so he clarifies. 

“You know, knocking boots? Doing the dirty? Bumping uglies? Hanky Pa—“ 

Well, over-clarifies. 

“I get it!” Steve shouts, face reddening.

It’s weird, feeling the heat spread across his cheeks and down his neck. He’s never been embarrassed by sex before. Kind of hard to be when his entire high school reputation revolved around who he was (or wasn’t) jumping into bed with. Never mind the fact that he actually only ever did it twice. He couldn’t go a week without it being brought up at least once, and each time, Steve had glided through the conversation with flying colors, hardly embarrassed. 

Back then was different, though. It was all talk at the end of the day. Mostly make-believe talk. This, though? Listening to Eddie talk about his uncle’s very real sex life? He’d be concerned if he didn’t find it mortally embarrassing. 

Clearing his throat, Steve shifts in his seat. 

“Does it matter if he is? Ya’ know, bumping boots or whatever?” 

Eddie cackles, throwing his entire body into it until the bowl of popcorn topples over onto the couch between them. So much for movie night Steve thinks as he tries to save as many of the kernels as he can before they fall into the couch cushion abyss. Not like he had been looking forward to eating or anything. 

“Does it matter if he is?” Eddie huffs, half-mocking Steve as he shakes his head. “Of course, it matters! It’s my uncle! What if we like, walked in on him or something because we don’t know what’s going on? That would scare me for life, Stevie. I’d need therapy!” 

“You’re already in therapy.” 

“Well, I’d need another therapist. One who specializes in the traumatic experience of walking in on your parental figure getting his di—“ 

“Let’s just rewind for a minute.” Steve shuts his eyes, willing his brain not to conjure up the image Eddie’s so keen on painting for him. His therapy bills are expensive enough, he doesn’t need to add another session just to talk about whatever the hell this conversation is. “If Wayne is in a relationship, which you don’t even know if he is, why would he keep it a secret?” 

“I don’t know. You’ve met him! He’s weird and secretive like that. I didn’t even  know his middle name until I was fourteen and swiped his license so I could buy cigarettes.” 

Steve remembers that story. It was one of the first of many never-ending cascades of embarrassing childhood stories Wayne shared with him that always turned Eddie scarlet. Eddie always gets upset when Wayne tells them, never failing to pout over not having someone on Steve’s side to badger for his own stories. Steve, happy to keep his past in the past, has grown used to shrugging him off and urging Wayne to tell him more.

“Not telling you his middle name is a lot different than hiding an entire person,” Steve continues to reason as he relocates the popcorn bowl to the table in front of them. “Why do you think he’s hiding someone anyway?”

“I’m glad you asked,” Eddie says, turning on the couch to better face Steve. He folds one leg under himself, the other hanging off the edge, foot planted and bouncing in an erratic rhythm Steve’s willing to bet is a new beat for a song. Eddie takes one more swig of his beer and then clears his throat as he claps his hands together. “Evidence número

 uno, he’s been smiling more lately.” 

“And I’m sure that has nothing to do with the fact that you’re back home and on the mend.” 

“Hey! Don’t interrupt me to remind me that my uncle loves me. It ruins my street cred.” 

Steve shoots his hands up in defense, shaking his head at his boyfriend's antics. 

“Evidence numéro deux—“

“You’ve been spending too much time with Robin,” Steve mumbles, taking a swig from his own beer this time. All this language-switching is giving him a headache. 

“Evidence numéro deux!” Eddie repeats, louder this time as he holds up two fingers. He’s kneeling now, knees sinking into the well-loved fabric of the couch. “He’s been using a new mug.” 

“Someone call the police! Wayne’s using a new mug.” 

If looks could kill, Eddie would be a modern day Medusa and Steve would be stoned to the couch.

“Evidence number three — and this is the most damning of evidence — Wayne has had plans every Monday night for the last two months.” He jumps to his feet now and begins pacing around the living room. 

Wait, Monday nights? But that’s — 

Oh. 

Eddie is so off base. So, so, so far off base, he might as well be lost in space. Steve bites the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. The last thing he wants to do is upset him more than he already has with his interjections. 

But this is hilarious. Downright hysterical. 

And honestly, the truth might be a harder pill for Eddie to swallow than this mystery lover he’s dreamed up. Because that is way easier to explain than the truth, that Wayne has been spending every Monday night for two months with Steve… watching football. 

“Two months, Stevie!” Eddie shouts, pulling Steve from his thoughts. “He comes home from work, changes, and then he leaves and doesn’t come back home for hours! I mean, maybe I’m being a bit generous since he is gone for hours. I can’t imagine he’d have that kind of stamina, but maybe he—” 

The front door opens, interrupting whatever cursed thought was about to spill from Eddie’s lip to reveal the older man in question. Steve’s never been so grateful to see Wayne — even if he’s the reason this entire conversation is happening right now. 

“Eds. Steve.” Wayne nods at each of them before crossing into the kitchen to fetch his own beer. He returns a moment later, collapsing into his recliner with the same dramatics as Eddie. “What are ya boys talkin’ ‘bout?” 

It’s kind of hard to be a religious man when he’s witnessed hell on Earth and had to claw his way out of it, no sign of divine intervention in sight. And yet, Steve can’t help but shut his eyes and say a silent prayer to whoever may be listening that his boyfriend keeps his mouth shut for once in his life. 

The power of prayer isn’t on Steve’s side though apparently, as he watches Eddie’s eyes get that twinkle in them right then and there, a mischievous glint that he has a love-hate relationship with. Sure, it’s cute as hell, but god dammit, every time it happens, Steve ends up having to bail him out of trouble. He really doesn’t want to have to do that right now, not for this. 

“Funny you should ask, Wayne—“

The intro to the seven o’clock news cuts him off. Maybe Steve’s prayers have been answered. Maybe this is what people talk about when they say that God works in mysterious ways. Maybe— 

“We’re coming to you live from The Hoosier Dome to bring you breaking news about our Indianapolis Colts.” 

“Bet it’s got to do with that coach they got runnin’ the place. Still can’t believe he ran that damn childish play on Monday.” 

“Tell me about it,” Steve says, shaking his head. “You know how I feel about the Colts, but you should’ve won that game.” 

“Least we get a rematch later in the season,” Wayne says, sipping his beer. “We gotta go to Diana’s for that game. If we lose, I can drown my sorrows in a real whisky instead of that cheap shit Glen keeps selling us.” 

“Us?” Eddie balks.

Steve watches in real time as Eddie puts the pieces together. His eyes widen then narrow into judgemental slits. His lips purse, head swiveling between the two of them and the television like he does when he’s DMing an intense session for the kids. Eddie’s sharp, always has been, and he wears his emotions on his face, so it’s easy to know when everything clicks in that chaotic mind of his. He might as well have buzzers going off behind him. 

“You!” He shouts, pointing an accusatory finger in Steve’s direction. “You’re the one keeping my uncle out late! Making him happy!” 

“What’s he talkin’ ‘bout?” Wayne asks.

Steve bits his lip. “Eddie, uh, thought you had a secret lover that’s been keeping you out on Monday nights.” 

“A secret lover?” Wayne laughs. “On a Monday night? Boy if I was gettin’ handsy with someone it wouldn’t be on no Monday night. I’m a Friday night gentleman, you know that. Maybe even Saturday mornin’ if I’m lucky.” 

“I don’t know anything anymore!” Eddie shouts, really doubling down on his theatrics. There’s a moment of calm before his brain conjures up something sinister — at least, Steve thinks it must be really bad judging by the paleness in Eddie’s face and the anger in his eyes. Finally, he explodes. “You’re cheating on me with my Uncle!” 

“I am not!” 

“Maybe not physically — Jesus H. Christ, ew, please please tell me it’s not physical. I think I’m gonna be sick.” 

“Now hold your horses a minute, Eds.” Wayne stops Eddie in his tracks with an easy hand around his wrist. “Steve here ain’t do nothin’ wrong but offer me his company during the games. I’d watch them with you. Hell, we both would. But, we know you hate ‘em.” 

“So it’s my fault then?” 

“I ain’t say that.” 

“You implied it, old man!” Eddie says, jabbing his finger in Wayne’s direction now. “You better keep your blue-collar hands away from my debutant boyfriend.” 

“You two are both ridiculous,” Steve laughs, shaking his head. He turns to Eddie, giving his best attempt as his puppy dog apology eyes. “It wasn’t meant to be a secret. You’re just never home on Mondays anyway, so we never thought to mention it. But if it bothers you so much, come with us this week. You’ll see for yourself no one’s stealing my honor, or whatever and it’s going to be a good game.” 

“Not for the Colts,” Wayne grumbles. 

Eddie makes a big show of considering the offer before shuttering. “And spend the night at Glen’s sports bar? I think I’d rather you cheat on me with my uncle—“ 

“Can we please stop talking about this?” Steve runs a frustrated hand down his face. “It’s grossing me out. No offense, Wayne.” 

“I’d be offended if you weren’t grossed out, son.” 

“Hey! I was talking,” Eddie squawks. Steve gives him his undivided attention, Wayne’s not so graceful, offering him a grunt and a hand gesture telling him to stop blocking the television. “As I was saying, you two can have your little sports bromance thing, butI do expect you to buy me a new mug for all my troubles, Stevie. S’not fair you got one for Wayne and not me.” 

“I’ll take you to the store tomorrow, and you can pick it up yourself.” 

“Thank you.” After a moment, Eddie sinks back into his side of the couch cushion and reaches for the half-full bowl of popcorn on the table. “Now, let’s start this movie night.” 

[madelinemccoolname]

Slime girl hrt

So, you’ve decided you’re a slimegirl. I’ve been on fluid replacement therapy, commonly referred to as slime hrt or shortened to frt, for five years but I haven’t managed to find a decent guide on the effects I’ve been experiencing anywhere on the internet. So I’ve decided to make this little guide for anyone who might still be on the fence. Keep in mind obviously I don’t speak for everyone and other goorl’s timelines might look a little bit different based on like genetics or something.

0-6 months

• For the first 3 months the effects are, I’m told, similar to estrogen’s first couple months, you’ll notice for sure your skin getting softer, your face might round out a bit, but the most you get are the side effects

• I personally was not prepared for how thirsty I got, I had heard about it but you really don’t know how much of your body isn’t liquid until you’re replacing all of it

• At 4 months is when I noticed my skin and body were moving kinda differently, tho this got the most pronounced at 6 months

• At 6 months all of my skin rippled like the surface of a pond whenever anyone touched me or like if the wind started blowing

• My joints got a lot more flexible, and my elbows and knees became double jointed (don’t do this too much)

• My hair didn’t get tangled overnight anymore

• My finger prints went away

6-12 months

• Here’s where the real magic starts, I got a lot thirstier for one and specifically had cravings for gatorade, I think this has something to do with slimegirls being partially salt water, but it could also be the food coloring in it (this is a joke about me drinking a lot of light blue gatorade and then being light blue)

• On the subject of color my skin got a sort of blue tinge to it, and most notably got completely see through by my 8 month mark

• The changes start from the thinnest part of your body and goes in towards your core, so even by 5 months your fingertips might be completely clear

• This next part is partially why I wanted to make this guide, so obviously your body doesn’t liquify at the same rate all over, for me this meant I was able to see the muscle in my upper arms if I looked through my fingers, this is both normal and something you’re going to have to get used to as you continue your journey

• Your toes are also going to turn at the same rate, this will probably be your first experience with lint getting in your slime bits, you don’t need to worry about your bloodstream getting infected with sock but regularly picking out bits is good hygiene and something you wanna get into the habit of

• My hair officially finished it’s transition into one solid shape, it still had defined follicles but if you tried to grab a strand of hair the rest would try to come with it

• People also started to ask me who dyed my hair, please note it’s always funny to say “it’s the way Goo-d made me” in response to this

12-24 months

• This window is larger than the others because all you’re going to notice from now on are the big changes

• Avoid tanktops past 14 months, your arms should be entirely translucent at this point and while having a buncha stuff floating around in my goo is kinda gender for me, people generally do not like to see slightly dissolved organs and ribcage

• 14 months was also when I noticed that my arm bones had entirely disappeared, my leg bones were also just barely holding in there, moving without bones was so freeing

• if you ever want anyone you know to stick their fingers in your slime, now’s probably the first time anyone's willing to stick their fingers far into your arms and legs, try to get them to wiggle their fingers. if they’re really adventurous they’ll stick their whole arm through to the other side, which still makes me a little squeamish

• Now that we’re at the part where I was mostly slime, we should probably talk about slime color. I’m going to dispel this misinformation, there is no way to find out what color a slimegirl is going to be before she starts transitioning. Some people say its eye color but that’s a lie. I am naturally a blue slime girl but my eyes pretransition were green. To dispel another myth you can dye yourself with food coloring, so you don’t even really have to stress about it

• By 18 months the only part of me that wasn’t slime was my head, the skull takes the longest time to dissolve because you’re doing the skull and all the organs in there all at once, see the human body really really wants to keep the brain safe, so when your brain gets the signal to get rid of your bones, it just does it all at once

• Some people say their eyesight got better, tho that seems to be anecdotal (mine stayed the same sadly)

• 18 months is also when I started experimenting with my shape. This was probably the most frustrating part of it for me, shapeshifting your goo is like a muscle, the more you do it the easier it’ll get. If you want a specific shape, spend enough time in it, and it’ll become your default shape, though you’ll never forget your original shape.

• 24 months is the last point I want to cover, by 24 months I was 100% liquid, the heavy viscosity from early transition leads to something closer to a liquid jello. I can detach parts of my body and then move to replace it, and I can reabsorb the parts I leave behind

• Clothes should rest just on the surface of you, though I know a lot of girls just change themselves to look clothed (probably more than you think ;)

• Suspenders and heavy cardigans break surface tension for me, luckily that's also a cute look so sometimes I match my cardigan with overalls for an aquarium effect on the overall straps

• This was also when I stopped breathing and going to the bathroom

• Some people report “knowing” when certain parts of their brain turn into goo, I didn’t experience that but it certainly could happen

Things I didn’t know where else they would fit

• I feel like a lot of this post was mainly dry, so in the interest of avoiding having a dry slime girl post, this section will mostly just be slime things that brought me joy

• I love speaking in slime puns, I keep a little book of slime puns and slant rimes just in case the slime arises that i would ever ooze some

• Being out in the rain or being out on a windy day is so much better when you can feel your entire body move in the wind, in particular go out on a rainy day without anything on, and lay down on the ground, the rain rippling through your entire body is heavenly

• Speaking of weather, when I first noticed I was refracting light on a sunny day I almost started crying, I felt so pretty and right :)

• I said I stopped needing to use the bathroom, but I still do siphon off some goo once a month. Mostly this is to get out bits of trash that accumulate and also because it feels exactly like taking a shower after a hard sweaty day’s work

• Speaking of bits, get a powerful magnet and metal shaving and you could probably waste a whole day just moving metal shavings through your body

• This might be a bit late in the guide for this, but when my arms finally turned I pulled a great prank on my at the time girlfriend by sticking my hand into a blender (do not do this if you still have bones, or value your girlfriend not being really really mad at you)

So that's all you need to know before starting frt, becoming the slime of your dreams is a difficult and beautiful process. I know a lot of what i described here might be frightening but if it sounds enticing at all know that it’s worth it.

[theprettynosferatu]

I mean, it can’t hurt, right? Just… as an experiment. Yes, an experiment! I have been practicing a lot lately, after all. If someone had told me how hard it is to actually edge, to reach that perfect point and just… stop, I’m not sure I would have started doing it. But I AM getting better at it! If he could see me it would be sooo… but I’ll have another session soon, and I want to be able to tell him that I’m doing it, I’m following the program, that I’m doing well in therapy for once, that unlike all those other hacks he made me better…

I’m tired, and I know it’s harder for me to hold back when I’m tired… but at the same time I have to be able to control myself. That’s what he said. It’s all about impulse control or something… and if I fail and go over? No, I can’t be too hard on myself. But at the same time he would be disappointed. I don’t want to imagine that. Not that he ever tells me he is disappointed, but I can tell. I could almost imagine him looking so sad the few times I accidentally came… I need to make him proud. I need to train more. Sure, I have to work tomorrow but one edge, just the one…

Fuck, I love social media. It’s like… the algorithm knows how to push me deeper and deeper… and I feel less alone, knowing there are so many people gooning and edging and encouraging one another. To think I was ashamed of the stuff I liked before! Like, admitting that watching a girl being spanked turned me on would get me red like a tomato. Now… a spanking does nothing for me. I need more, and the screen delivers. It’s so fucking good to see so many good girls, drooling and edging like me and writing on their skins what willing fuckholes they are… The words come to me and I’m muttering them… cunt… useless toy… living cumrag… I’m not sure I can stop myself from mumbling anymore. I watch them smile before getting their stupid mouths fucked by a huge cock, shutting them up and turning them into the useful dolls they are…

Jesus! That was close. I didn’t expect to hit the edge so quickly! My pussy must be more sensitive lately. Makes sense. Two weeks without cumming is a long time… but he looked so proud of me last session… no way I can throw that away for a moment of relief. I’m in control. Not my body. Me. 

Okay, I did it. Time to get some much needed rest.

Fuck…

Turning in bed. My cunt is soaked and it’s insistent, demanding. I have to work tomorrow. I can’t… I put my pillow between my legs. I don’t know why I feel like it will calm my pussy down a bit. I’m making no sense. Fuck, thinking that made me wetter. I’m making no sense. I’m dumb. I’m stupid. I’m just a horny bitch in heat…

My hips move on their own. I’m not entirely awake, not entirely asleep. I’m almost… not there. Like I’m just watching my needy body hump the pillow, like I’m merely a passenger and my stupid, horny body is taking over…

No. No. I’m in control. I won’t cum. I won’t…

That was too close. Much too close. But I did it. I stopped right at the edge. I didn’t cum. 

I was a good girl.

Good girls edge. That’s not something the therapist said. At least I don't think so. I saw it online. But he explained edging to me, so he must want me to be a good girl for him, right? No, that’s silly. He’s a professional. He’s teaching me control. I want to learn from him. I want to be a good girl for him. I want him to…  

It’s two in the morning already. Time slipped by like… like it was soaked by my pussy juices. I like that image. My needy cunt is so permanently wet even time gets slick. I might be going crazy. I need to snap back to reality. I need to focus. Tomorrow I have to work, and I’m already going to be running on like, five hours of sleep.

Well, I’m going to be fucked tomorrow either way, right? Not much difference between five hours of sleep and four. And I do have a few audios saved…

One more edge. That’ll be all.

God, I love how audios make me feel. As soon as I put the headphones on and that low, barely audible pulsing sound comes on, I can feel a tingle snake all over my skin. And her voice… It’s so soft, so gentle, so caring… and so desperate at the same time. I don’t know how many times I’ve listened to her, but it always makes me feel… like she’s holding me. Guiding me. Telling me what I am. What I could be. What I should be.

I know I’m saying the words out loud. I couldn’t stop myself from doing it even if I wanted to anymore. The girl in the audio and me, we are one and the same. I can’t tell where the audio ends and my mind begins. Her words are my words. The only part of me that remains is the watchful eye that’s always alert now, always ready to pounce and stop me from going over the edge.

Edging makes me better. Edging makes me sluttier. Edging makes me prettier. Edging makes me more obedient. Edging makes me a slave to my cunt. Edging makes me better. Edging makes me sluttier…

I can feel him railing me in his office. I can taste his cum on my tongue. I can see the pleasure in his eyes, the way it gives me purpose…

Shit! That fantasy almost got me. I can’t be the only one that thinks about their therapist that way, right? No, no judgment. No shame. That’s what he says, so surely he wouldn’t begrudge me a little kinky fantasy starring him… 

I wonder if I should tell him. Fuck, that would be amazing. To look into his eyes and tell him every detail that my mind conjured up, how I want him to take over my mind, to tell me what to think, what to wear… who to be. 

Twenty past four in the morning. Four-twenty. I should sleep, but come on. Timing’s too good. One joint, one more edge, and that will be it. Weed always makes edging better, anyway. I feel so… happy. I don’t have another word for it. Bubbly. Happy. Slutty. Maybe I should make someone else happy like me… 

I should probably buy like, a mask or something, just to be safe. But I don’t have one now and I want them to see all of me… I want every inch of my body to be porn, to make someone happy… It doesn’t matter who. I need to be useful. I go on the website.

I blame the lack of sleep and the weed. I’m not dumb. I’m… it’s just… good girls are porn. Fuck, that feels good to say. I log on and…

There it is. Of course, first try. A stiff cock. I can’t see the owner’s face, and I don’t care to. I vaguely remember a time when I would have felt disgusted. Now I can’t think at all. Mu pussy clenches in anticipation, and my hand rubs it softly, insistently. We share the moment in perfect peace, masturbating as one, both mindless and entranced by our own bodies…

Suddenly, the fear comes. I want to be useful. I want… I need to make that cock cum. That’s my purpose. That’s all I want to be. But what if I can’t? How can I know exactly what kind of slut this cock wants to cum to? What if I’m not… good enough?

Then, the man starts typing and the fear melts away, replaced by a warm blanket of peace. He tells me what to do. Suddenly, I don’t need to try anymore. I don’t need to think. I don’t need to worry. I don’t need to be anything but an extension of that wonderful cock. I don’t think I even read the words in any meaningful way. They bypass my brain and go straight to my body, and obedience is instantaneous. 

I’m on all fours, stretching my buttcheeks apart, struggling to look at the screen. I want to see it. I want to feel worthy. 

I barely catch myself. Seeing it tense up, hearing his moan, seeing his cock shoot cum for me, just for me… it almost makes me break my edge. I feel… proud. I feel perfect, as if I’ve found the exact corner of the universe that exists just for me to occupy, that wonderful purpose… He ends the video chat quickly. Maybe he’s embarrassed. It only shows me the dangers of cumming. Cumming brings bad thoughts. But edging…

Dawn arrives. I’ve been… away. I’ve become whoever, whatever the person on the other side of the screen needs me to be. I’m fuzzy. I know I’ve called someone daddy and begged him to sneak into my room at night… I know one woman made me spank myself with my hairbrush until I cried, and she came to my tears. I think I danced for a group of older men, but I can’t be sure. Maybe I… fell asleep at some point? I don’t know. Nothing feels real. I don’t feel real. I feel like a beautiful fiction. 

The alarm goes off. I should shower. Have a coffee. Go to work. Be a person.

Sure, I’ll do all those things. I just need one more edge to start the day…

Just one more…

I know I’ll have an amazing therapy session in two days.  

Did you enjoy this story? You can support my work at patreon.com/prettynosferatu

[indefenseofjoy]

Being Venezuelan is deeply lonely.

I suppose that being from any dictatorship or any country with a terrible conflict such as Palestine or Ukraine also is. But I’m only from Venezuela. So I can only speak to that experience.

You might be wondering why I am writing this in English. Well, because most people here speak English, and I don’t need to explain this to other Venezuelans.

So… allow me to continue.

Being Venezuela is deeply lonely.

Let’s start with the obvious, less controversial part of this statement. Most people leave. Over a third of our population has migrated. This means everyone, and I mean everyone, has many friends and family members living abroad. Many can’t return. Many can’t leave.  And until 25 years ago, we were the country that received migrants and refugees, not the one that produced them. So we are not emotionally prepared for this. I don’t even want to get into my specific situation. I’m sure it is not the worst, but it does isolate me a bit from my peers, even the most well-meaning and empathetic ones. And I’m sure it is not the worst one, but I hate it.

I also lived abroad for a year. Only a year though so I can’t claim to know the migrant experience. And I was lucky to live with my three best friends. But I imagine it is deeply lonely too.

Then let’s talk about the second, more controversial thing, but not the most. Living in a country with conditions such as ours is quite isolating. It is hard to relate to movies, to TV, to the foreigners you see in social media. Can’t find a film, TV show, musical… about living in hyperinflation, about a week long national blackout not caused by a natural disaster, political prisoners, exile… at least not depressing biopics or dystopia. Maybe that’s why I like Derry Girls so much….

And now the most controversial one. The world has turned its back on us. Our elections are stolen, our media censored, our children imprisoned and tortured, our indigenous people neglected and poisoned, a manmade humanitarian crisis…And whatnot. All of these because we are governed by a dictatorship, not some international sanctions. And some governments have expressed their support, but nothing goes further than that. And people complain that we are getting attention other problems should get, or we become jokes. We have to convince people that we are being oppressed, that we have the same right as anyone to fight for our democracy. But as we are not the perfect victim (and I could go on and on about that) we are on the receiving end of very dehumanizing speech.

And then you compare your situation to the USA were if one county in one state does something slightly wrong it sparks a global outrage. Then our entire country and its diaspora becomes the victim of massive human right violations, we become the bad guys.

And I just want you to compare that life experience.

And to top it all off, before you ask, I do have psychological assistance. And I’ve compared notes with other friends that also have the privilege of going to therapy. And our therapist are also going through this traumatic experience in real time. And they are sadly not well equipped to be dealing with this.

I am willing and able to help educate people on the topic of Venezuela. But tonight I just wanted to vent. So if you have questions or comments I will get to you, but maybe not right away.

[cosmic-ghost-hermit]

Pick a Card: Message from your Inner-Child

Your inner baby needs you to listen. This reading will help them speak their mind clearly. Will you hear them out? Take what resonates and let go of all the rest but be willing to accept new experiences.

☀️Donate to my CashApp🌙

(fund my inner child's joy)

Feel free to drop any reading suggestions in my inbox. I'll keep them in mind when divining the wisdom that needs delivered to y'all's lil ears. Thank you in advance for all your help and support!

Decks used are The Kawaii Tarot, Pure Magic Oracle, Romantic Lenormand and The Karma Cards.

_____________________________________________________________

PILE ONE

Astrology: Capricorn, Aquarius, Libra

Song: Pantsuit Sasquatch by Molly Lewis

Vibes: Green, red, night sky, thorns, bouquet, red flowers, chess, star gazing, alligator, aroma therapy, herbal remedies, apothecary, rabbits, snake skin, olive branch, Zues, Demeter

Cards: 6 of Swords, Saturn, Tower, Lilies, Herbal Craft, Hallowed Heart

Hello, pile 1. Your inner child is really tired of having to be the adult for people who are older than them. They are tired of playing mentor for those who should be mentoring. They want to be done with those people. They are holding up a building with their tiny arms and their shaking frame. As if someone put the world on their shoulders and asked them to carry it with bones that were not developed enough to hold it and without the mental fortitude to withstand the pressure. They wish to rest. They wish to lash out at the adults who relied on them before they were ready or willing. I see your inner child resembles Alice in Wonderland. After the wicked adults in your inner child's life grew white flowers, they demanded it was your fault and made you paint the white roses, red. They took their purity. They hurt you a lot.

The main message I am hearing from them is, "Please be gentle with my little heart and my small frame. I was treated harshly purely for being alive. I need healing. I need time to rest and recuperate. Please do not yell at me for my mistakes. Please do not hurt me for my shortcomings. I did not ask to be here. I only wish for it to get better than it is now. I'm sorry I wasn't mature. I'm sorry I've been impatient but I have been patient for so long. I've spent so much time waiting for my caretakers to do their jobs. Please. I don't need structure. I need relief."

They do not hold you accountable for everything that happened to you, my dear. They are reaching their little hands out for you to help them up. They want to be more present in your life. They want to have fun again. They didn't have enough of it as a child. They want to play outside. The last message I'll leave you with is some advice I find very important.

"Play is the psychological opposite of Trauma."

____________

PILE TWO

Astrology: Scorpio, Gemini, Cancer (maybe libra)

Song: Burn Your Village by Kiki Rockwell

Vibes: Grey, pink, purple, corvids, pinecones, sage, lavender plant, grizzly bear, spider, scorpio, eagle, hummingbird, long hair, video games, D&D, law, Zephyr, Eurus, Callisto, Artemis, Hecate

Cards: Justice, Clouds, Bear, Hecate's Path, Songbirds, 8th House

Hi, pile 2. Your inner child is full of vengeance. I see that without the vengeful energy they are very respectful and kind. Their anger is extremely understandable and a reaction induced by the environment they grew up in. Your inner child has an intense sense of justice. They know they have been treated unjustly by the authority in their life. Those in control of their circumstance took their autonomy and right of trial. The authorities judged you harshly for no good reason and were unpredictable. The authority would explode at random instances making them hard to anticipate. They were dangerous. Purely because they wanted to make your life miserable to cope with their own miserable life. Your inner child did not deserve that. Your inner innocence was corrupted into a furious and resentful person. They are aware they deserved better. They were conscious of their mistreatment. I see they could have been mistreated because of their race or gender.

The message I am hearing the loudest from your inner child is, "Those filthy horrid people deserve to atone for their wrong doings. No one helped me. They didn't even listen. They took that authorities word for truth and no one heard my side of the story. I am not a liar. I am not guilty. I did nothing wrong and now my older self doesn't even believe me either. The people who did this to me will pay. They will face justice if I have to be the one to dish it out. I hate them. I hate what they turned me into. I was pure. I was innocent. Now look at what they have made me. This isn't fair. This isn't right! Why was I treated this way!? Why does no one believe me?! I will never abuse power like that person did. I will end this cycle of abuse. I release and remove everyone who blamed me without learning the whole story. I am letting go of the pain they put me through. They do not deserve me or my kindness. They only deserve my hatred and resentment. I hope they burn."

Your inner child begs you to protect them from the people who did this to you. I can feel they are still in your life. It might be a father or a brother or an uncle. I also see it could be a pastor. Your inner baby will continue to lash out at random times because they have no where to aim all this negative emotion. They want to be free of guilt that shouldn't be theirs. They want to be free of judgmental eyes. Free them from the illusion that this authority laid over everyones eyes. I leave you with one last message.

"The weakest link will target the strongest link to avoid that they're useless."

_________

PILE THREE

Astrology: Virgo, Leo, Sagittarius

Song: Heart of a Dancer by The Happy Fits

Vibes: Blue, pink, forest green, androgenous, duality, 2b hair texture, robins, blue jays, coffee mugs, sculpting, yin/yang, balance, rose quartz, pearl, magnolia tree, gardening, bonfire, 3rd eye, Aphrodite, Hermaphroditus, archangel Samuel, Lucifer Morningstar, Baphomet

Cards: 8 of Cups, Birds, Woman, Pyro-kinesis, Closing Circle, Virgo, 7th House, North Node

Hey there, pile 3. I feel many complex emotions from your inner child. I see how they were conditioned is much different than how they genuinely are. They were conditioned to be quiet, serene and passive. But when they are acting genuine it is exact opposite. They are loud, angry and active. There is a need to walk away from their conditioning and those who conditioned them. They don't know how to ask that of you because of how they were taught. They do not speak unless spoken too and this makes it difficult for them to communicate with you. They are anxious they will be punished if they ask for anything of you. Invite them forward and allow them to speak their mind. They hold back a lot of emotion that needs to be expressed. You need to be open to hearing what they have to say.

The important message I need to tell you from them is, "You will benefit from our collaboration. I'm sorry for speaking up but you are not following your heart anymore. You are following what you have been told. This is not authenticity that you display. It is fake. Even if it is well-meaning you are not yourself. You are pretending to be someone else. Please let me express my rage. Please let me express my heart. I can't hold it anymore. I don't wanna feel this way anymore. Let me chatter and chirp and yell and scream. I wasn't allowed to when I was young. I need the freedom to do so now. Allow me to open doors I was never allowed to enter. Please see me in my full complexity. I am more than just a pretty face. I am more than my body. I am a person. I have personality. I have beliefs. I am a benefit to society when I can speak. I am not a waste. I am good as I am. I don't need to bottle my true self to make others comfortable. Free me, please."

They are asking you to allow yourself and your inner child to be themselves. They deserve space to exist freely without having to hide themselves away. I honestly don't need to say much more but I will leave you with one more piece of advice.

"Authenticity is the most powerful way to exist."

___________

PILE FOUR

Astrology: Taurus, Aries, Pisces (maybe aquarius)

Song: If My Heart Was a House by Owl City

Vibes: Muted colors, yellow, orange, fairies, sunflowers, barn owl, cat mint, raptors, vase, eyes, beards, lotus, candles, chimneys, diamond, playing cards, hobbits, anime, Apollo, Athena, Aphrodite

Cards: King of Pentacles, Sun, Owls, Ancestors, Gnomes, Aquarius, Venus

Hello and welcome, pile 4. Your inner child is asking me to tell you that you won't find the love you are looking for in other people. You won't find it in romance. You won't find it in friendship. At least not until you can find it in them. They didn't have the luxury of building their life on an identity that was theirs. They don't even know who they are. You need to explore them. Discover yourself in them. Be friends with them. They long for connection and the only one who can give that to them is you. They spent their whole life just trying to survive that they found identity in the pain they experienced. There is so much more to them than victimhood. So much more than their trauma. They are bright as the sun and immensely smart. They are funny and creative. Let yourself and your inner child grow beyond your collective pain and become something more. Your family isn't the pinnacle of humanity. I have a feeling that your family might have a narcissist among them. They are only a facet of humanity, my friend. There is so much more to your life than being approved by others. You are made of magic. You need to see that.

The message I hear from your inner child is, "I'm done striving for love from people who never intend on giving it to me no matter how perfectly I perform. I'm tired chasing something I'm never going to catch up too. I've always known I'm better than that. They made me feel so small though. They made me feel so pointless and useless. I worked so hard for their love but they will only ever love themselves. They will never have enough room in their heart for me. They make me feel like I'm not enough. I want to give myself the love they never could afford for me. I want to be loved so much. I want to be held and cherished the way I deserve to be. I am enough even if they say I'm not. I've always been enough even though I'm small. They are a giant black hole of emptiness and nothing. They are jealous of my light. I wish my older self could see that. I'm not selfish for wanting to be loved. I'm not wrong for wanting to be adored. I'm worth the effort. Please, see that it's true. I want to be known for who I am. I want to be discovered. I wish so deeply to be seen and appreciated. I'm the only one who can do it."

Your inner child is asking something of you. They ask you to take the role of mother and father for yourself. A role that was never filled even if you had your parents in your life. They neglected you. So much so you felt like you didn't deserve love but you desperately craved it. My dear, I will leave you with one last message and then the rest is up to you.

"You are worthy of being loved by you."

[sanzaibian]

April 7th

Hey journal !

This is going to be hard to write… but I’ve decided to write down my experiences in this little journal I just bought for like, $7 at the local thrift shop, so here I go.

So, I’m Jay Callaghan, a 25 year old student in STAPS, hoping to become a physiotherapist (hope when I read that in 10 years I won’t be embarrassed !), and I’m gay. Like, very gay, nothing in me for girls. But… let’s just say than in sports studies, being gay isn’t well seen. So I keep my hookups on the down low, and avoid talking about that part of myself to anybody else.

And to be honest, it really drives me mad. I’m always double-checking that I’m not too faggy for their eyes, I’m always fidgety when discussions shift towards recent “conquests”, and I feel like I just miss out on so many things. I mean, it has only been, like, a year and a half since I fully accepted that I’m gay ? But still, the impostor syndrome has never faded, and by now, I just want it to stop.

By the way, here’s a photo of what I look like :

Dare I say I look pretty hot ? Well, this just makes things worse, actually. Because then the guys are always like “Yeah, look at Jay, he must be pounding so much pussy” or something… I just want to scream to them that no ! I’m very much very pounded ! And that’s not to say there aren’t people drooling over me ! There are ! But they all hail from the wrong gender !

However, recently I heard about the brand new Conversion Powder by Eamora Co., some kind of drug made by that unknown pharmaceutical company. What’s special about this powder is that it advertises itself as actually being able to change sexuality, so to make someone straight. Now, don’t get me wrong, I wholly support LGBT rights and want for any kind of conversion to be willful – so, like, not conversion therapy. Plus, both the instructions manual and the few reviews I found said that the powder must be taken once a day for the effect to persist. So it’s not as if it was an effective conversion therapy. But… I feel like things would be so much easier if I was straight. I wouldn’t be in constant fear, I would feel included with the other guys, and I would just be normal for once.

So yeah. I just want to end this by giving out my opinions on men and women :

Men are so fucking hot, well-built muscles, with big juicy pecs and a great six-pack invites licking, the hose downstairs is the work of god, and I just want to rub myself against it, accept it in my mouth and in my ass. Women… are just women. I guess they do have pec-like stuff, but they’re just so stuffy, and big and all. Plus, they just aren’t interesting in terms of attractiveness ? Not to shit on them, but just not my thing.

Yeah, let’s see how well it ages. I’m taking the Conversion Powder right now.

The evening

Okay, so I think from now on I should write on the evenings, because this way I can recap the events of the day while they’re still fresh in my mind. Plus, when class starts again tomorrow, it’s going to be a pain to write in the mornings.

So let’s start with when I took the powder. As the instructions asked, I put it in a glass and mixed it with water, to drink. At first, nothing happened, but then I started getting a headache, and felt quite dizzy for a while. I don’t know how long, because I didn’t record myself, and I know that my sense of time probably got warped, but it did feel long. And then, it just cleared, like magic.

To be honest, it was very underwhelming. I thought that something would happen to signal if it worked or not, but I decided to still test out if it actually worked. So I opened straight porn, and there the magic occurred.

By instinct, I started by watching the guy, but honestly, he just felt boring at first. I tried to see how hot he was, because I could tell he was attractive indeed, but it just felt… wrong to think of him as attractive. Which was unsettling in its own right. But then came the woman, and let me just say that : she was heavenly. She had tanned skin that ran along her beautiful curves, skimpy black leather pants and bra that espoused her big hips and breasts, and long black hair flowing over her back, waving in such a tasteful manner ! My dick was immediately woken up in quite the surreal moment, and I couldn’t help my self.

I beat myself off furiously at her being railed.

And I don’t even feel bad about that. I even printed out one of her photos to remind myself of her… God, my dick is awake once again by once again seeing her !

After that, I must admit that I spent a lot of time gooning myself on all the stuff I missed out on when I didn’t like women. I even almost forgot to eat lunch !

The afternoon, I decided to go on a walk outside, to see if anything different happened, and honestly… once again, it was quite underwhelming. I really don’t know what I expected, taking this powder for me to be this underwhelmed ! It only advertised that it would turn people straight, and this is what it did ! On a technical sense. Because I may be, in fact, straight at the minute, but I don’t feel straight. I… don’t know how to articulate that, I think I’ll have a better answer to that question when I’ve spent more time on the powder.

So yeah, what I wanted to write is that, when I was walking in the neighborhood, I did have the same experiences as watching the porn : I felt it was weird to conceive of men as a subject of attraction, and I paid more attention to women, but nothing more, really.

Well, nothing much more to say, I guess ! I’ll continue taking it, because it doesn’t seem dangerous, and since I’m closeted it shouldn’t change much.

April 8th

This morning I took again a Conversion Powder, and although I did feel quite dizzy taking it, it was nowhere as much as last time. That does comfort me since if I do decide to stick with this, it won’t be that annoying after a while. I read up on how it works to see if these headaches are normal, but aside from the few internet theoreticians, I haven’t found anything tangible… Nobody really knows anything about it, plus Eamora Co. is basically a completely unknown entity, so I can’t really get to the bottom of this. I guess this here diary may be the current best source for how the Conversion Powder works ?

But the most important thing today was getting back to school. And honestly, there I found that the changes were more substantial. I don’t know if it’s because I have also been on it yesterday, but it felt much easier to get into the skin of the typical straight guy. I didn’t have to worry about seeming too gay, because I technically am not, meaning that the school experience was a lot more peaceful. I also felt more included during the locker room talks. It’s crazy, because when they started to talk about boobs, my dick just hardened ! They mocked me, of course, I felt quite ashamed, but a good kind of ashamed. Like I’m actually having a normal reaction !

God, here I am writing about that kind of stuff… Well, to whoever might read that (me included), I have a duty to present everything of note ! So you’re going to have to bear with the stuff I already know I’ll find cringey in a few months’ time.

So yeah. On that, I’ll go to sleep.

April 9th

Man, I want to cross out the whole section about the powder on the web I wrote yesterday. And also the “I’ll go to sleep”. I’m not talking to anyone !

But yeah, today, the Conversion Powder made the media rounds.

And the rounds it made, in barely a day ! We got LGBT associations speaking out for its immediate discontinuing, far-right think tanks asking for it to be included in all school and high school meals, and politicians scrambling to state their opinion. It kinda feels bad for me to be technically not aligned with the LGBT associations, since I’m taking it, but this was my choice. I’m deciding to become straight, and my current experiences point that it was a good one. I’m feeling more and more connected with my bros (yes ! I can actually call them that, now !), and everyone who I knew before taking the powder say that I’ve recently been in a better mood than usual.

However, I won’t tell others that I’ve been taking it. I was closeted, and I don’t want people to think that I’m self-hating or something… I guess I kinda was, but that’s not the point I was getting at. The point I’m getting at is that I don’t fit the new stereotype of Conversion Powder-takers that is forming, and I don’t want people to think I do.

Also, even if more attention has been shed on Eamora Co. and the powder, there still is no good answer to the questions I wrote down yesterday.

Better news, though : today when taking the Conversion Powder, I almost didn’t feel dizzy at all ! It’s almost as if my body has fully acclimated to the Conversion Powder. If it’s how it works, honestly. However… I feel like I don’t have anything much to say about that ? I know, I know, such an earth-shattering change occurred in me, and two days in I don’t have anything to say about it ? I guess reality do be like that…

April 10th

Yes, I didn’t write much cringey yesterday !

But yeah, nothing much happened today, as do Wednesdays usually do. Though I guess I must mention that on the bus there was a really hot woman, I couldn’t get my eyes out of her. After a while of me basically staring at her though, I noticed that she knew I was looking at her, so I looked elsewhere. I guess, now, I understand the straight male experience, since I indulged in the same kind of creepy behavior… that is something I’ll need to fix.

About Eamora Co., they put out a statement saying that their product is ethical, and does not constitute a danger for the LGBT community. Although I’m technically on their side, let me say I’m calling bullshit on that. Seeing how potent this powder is, it’s easy for bad actors to drug gay and bi people without their consent, and even though they can fight against this kind of drugging, this kind of practice could very well lead into them assuming they were actually straight all along.

Here you go, let me step out of my soapbox.

April 11th

Okay, so, you know, Abby… No, I guess you don’t know, checking back I didn’t talk about her at all in this diary.

So, Abby was (and still is) a good friend in my university. She doesn’t study the same stuff as I do, but we got to know each other in business management class. We hit it off quite well, even though I wouldn’t call her my best friend by any stretch (I had much closer friends back in high school), she went along well with my way of being.

But here comes the catch.

Now that I’m straight, I’ve noticed that she… is actually quite well-endowed. Plus, over the last few days I would even dare say that she’s actually… cute. I mean, look at her and dare not tell me that she’s not cute !

Okay, I do realize that no one is gonna answer me here… but still ! Diary ! Or anything ! Agree with me !

I think this means that I may be having my first straight crush… on who was basically my only true friend in this university… not the best look. But at least it proves that the powder converts both sexual and romantic attraction ! It’s a good observation to include in this diary.

So yeah… gonna see how it evolves…

April 13th

Oops, I forgot to write, yesterday !

So I just hung out more with the bros, it’s been so fun to just… chit-chat with them ! I feel like we have a real connection, like they get me, like I get them. That’s something I could never have had when I was gay, I was forced to just stay out of the loop with everyone. I’m glad I’ve decided to start going on the conversion powder, because now I can finally get to live a normal life ! … not to insult my former comrades, of course.

But with Abby… I must admit I’m not proud of myself, because I basically avoided her for the past few days… I’m getting so flustered when I’m with her, it’s really embarrassing, but now I fear she thinks I’m abandoning her… I’m also being so obvious ! Like, this morning Abby walked in front of me when I was hanging out with my bros, going to some kind of economy class, and I just blushed to hell ! The bros all clocked that I have a crush on her, and I fear she might too ! God, so embarrassing !

Tomorrow, since it’s Sunday, I don’t have class, so the bros asked me to go to the gym with them, and I’m 95% sure they’re gonna cook me alive for having that damn crush…

Help !

April 15th

I forgot to write yesterday again… I was so tired from the very intensive sesh that we had that I just went straight to dine and sleep, so give me a break, diary.

So, as I predicted… Saturday, the guys cooked me, and cooked me hard. They were like “why don’t you talk to her”, “you’ve seen her look”, “do the first move” and all, it was quite overwhelming while we were working out… But they were basically saying that I shouldn’t hesitate to ask her out, as even if it doesn’t work out there’s other girls to find…

God, this is the kind of advice that I would never have had if I was having a gay crush. Nobody would be there to be excited for me, they would all be uninterested to disgusted, and none could give me advice for how to do… because the only people who could would be the very kind I may want to woo !

So yeah. Out of my soapbox, today I talked to Abby… and I couldn’t do it. I chickened out, I didn’t ask her out… Like, I was just about to ! But then somebody let their coat drop, and Abby, kind soul she is, picked it up for them… and after that, my courage just disappeared, and I just brought up the topic of the Conversion Powder and the whole drama.

Yeah. About the Conversion Powder drama.

So, let’s just say that it got heated, and it became the controversy that everyone was talking about. I don’t know what my country will choose as a way forward, but some have already chosen to outlaw it… and the usual suspects have made it official “prescription” to “cure” gayness. I’m against both options, and although I think none will be taken by our government, they currently haven’t chosen a stance… I’ll keep a close eye on it, because I’d hate for my experiment to be cut short just because of them deciding for me…

April 16th

This time, I didn’t miss a day ! Yay !

So… I asked Abby out.

It was as if the stars aligned. Today she dressed in very hot clothes, and we had class together both before and after lunch. So I took the opportunity to ask her to meet with me at the park. But then, at the afternoon, it started raining… I was afraid that our meet-up would have to be canceled, but just before it was time to end the classes, the sky cleared up ! So we went to the park, and my favorite bench in front of the pond was free ! We sat together, and there, I asked her if she wanted to go out with me.

And she said yes !

God, it feels so good ! My first ever date, and not hookup !

I’m just buzzing with excitement, we’re gonna see each other this Saturday afternoon after class ! I’m already envisioning it : first we get together in a cafe, then we go to the park and visit its zoo at the same time ! It’s going to be perfect !

I’m so ready for it !

April 17th

So, I’ve told the bros the good news… and somehow, the conversation drifted on clothes, and we realized that I don’t really have any “date” clothes – or at least, not straight date clothes. They said that it wouldn’t go, and Terry and Joe took me this afternoon to the shops, as they said that, as “pussyhounds” they know what makes girls go apeshit. There, they encouraged me to buy a nice black dress shirt, dark blue jeans and a fancy belt, so now they’ve been added to my wardrobe. They also told me to prepare some cologne, a golden chain and a fancy watch, because they said that it’s the kind of details women always pay attention to, but I already have some of those, so I’m covered.

I guess I’m ready for my date ?

April 20th

Fuck, I forgot again twice to write in this diary. I guess I should only write in it when there’s something interesting happening, because I only seem to remember writing in it when something involving my newfound straightness happens…

So yeah. The date with Abby was magical. Never have I ever been more glad to have made the choice to become straight. When we met up, she was just fabulous. Dressed impeccably, in a way that, yes, made her boobs pop out wonderfully, but it also made her beautiful eyes twinkle, her luscious lips glow and her fluffy hair shine. And the way she walked, so agile, so dainty… Bro, there’s nothing that can capture how beautiful she is ! And she’s also so smart, and such good company ! We talked for hours, made cute poses in front of the animals, and even stayed together for dinner – although we went out to McDonald’s, not enough money nor organization to go to a fancier place.

Perfect ! Absolutely perfect !

This is the kind of experiences normal men have ! And they’re so much richer than anything these gay hookups ever gave me !

Taking the Conversion Powder was the best decision in my life !

May 4th

May the force be with you ! haha

It’s been two whole weeks since I last wrote in this diary, it was time for me to give you an update, diary.

The last two weeks have been hell, because it’s exam season. So between studying, working out and dates with Abby, I haven’t had time for anything ! Bro, even my dates were study dates ! But otherwise… Everything’s going swimmingly ! I’m pulling along with my bros, and my relationship with Abby is going wonderfully !

Really, I know I’m writing the same thing again and again, but ever since I became straight, everything has become better ! Like, I’m better as a straight guy than I would ever have been as a gay guy, I’m sure of that ! It’s… even becoming kinda weird to think of myself as ever being gay, honestly...

God, it’s so refreshing to be normal !

May 6th (the morning)

A bit of a weird update, this morning before my last exam, because… er… we had sex yesterday.

So here’s how it went. Yesterday, we had another study date, but this time at my place. It was boring, of course, but to get out of the boredom we decided to make some raunchy remarks in-between economics and anatomy. And it made us both quite horny… well, at least it made me quite horny, because my dick was just rock hard, ready to squirt by the end of the session… And then we continued the remarks, without interruption… I got closer to her, started touching her, she started touching me, and then the clothes started coming down…

And you kinda know how it goes, but for me it was special. Because I have a ton of sex experience, but none when it comes to shoving my dick in a hole. I did have quite a good time eating her pussy, wayyyyyy tastier tasty than dick mind you, and she did make me come by giving me a blowjob, but then came time to do the deed. I put my condom on, and then honestly… it was a blast. I came just naturally once I had my dick inside her pussy, I just thrusted, and thrusted and thrusted, a ton of times, as if I was plowing her. She was orgasming, I was orgasming, and when we finally came, we just laid there, cuddling, until we both began sleeping.

I’m writing that as she’s taking her shower, just after my Conversion Powder drink, so I won’t be able to write too much, but really… it was the best sex I ever had. Hands down. Really, it feels like straight sex has been designed to happen, unlike anal, blowjobs and all. God, I’m so glad to have taken the powder !

May 8th

Okay okay okay, BIG NEWS !

This afternoon, Abby and I went to a date in the park, and guess what – I mean, a diary isn’t gonna answer me, but yeah. Abby asked if I wanted to be her boyfriend !

It made me just so happy ! Like, finally for the first time ever I have an actual relationship ! I have a girlfriend !

I’ll announce it to everyone ! Well, I kinda already have, but I thought after that that I should write it down here. I’m becoming the model straight guy, and I couldn’t be more up for that !

May 19th

Everything is going for the best, a month and a half in ! (about)

I think I’m gonna stop writing in this book, because I think there’s nothing I can write in it that’s new ! I’m a normal straight guy with a steady relationship with my beautiful girlfriend, Abby, and I hope – and think – that we’re going endgame. Like she’s so beautiful and she goes along with me so well, you can’t understand !

I’m also bulking thanks to all the workout I get with the bros, here, look at that photo :

Oh yeah, I did decide to cut down my hair. It was so long, it was bothersome, and I already have Abby, so I don’t need to look attractive to anybody, just to her. Plus, it made me look faggy, even though I’m straight.

So yeah, you can guess I’m a living example of why the Conversion Powder is a good thing for people who want it ! I’m so happy, and I have found the love of my life ! It almost feels like it was meant for me to be straight !

So… goodbye, I guess ? Or to next time something worth writing about happens ?

June 1st

I thought I wouldn’t ever touch this diary again, but today I saw a ton of pictures on the internet saying happy Pride Month, and… it made me feel empty inside.

I remember last year when I went to local Pride, it made me feel so… not alone ? Like I was part of something bigger, of a community of people who suffer the same kind of things as I do. But when I see all those pictures, I just feel like it’s not talking to me. I don’t feel like I’m part of the LGBT community anymore, because I’m just a normal straight guy, and I guess it’s the first time I somewhat feel some regrets ?

Now, I looked at my local Pride, and apparently this year’s prominent topic is the Conversion Powder, trying to ban it, so even if I wanted to go in as an ally, I would be the embodiment of what they’re avoiding…

I dunno, I’m feeling very conflicted. And it’s not the kind of things I can really talk about with Abby, considering to her I was always a normal straight guy. So I guess I’ll write about it here when I feel like venting.

June 3rd

This whole Pride Month thing is really going to my head, I cannot help but think about it… I look away each time I see rainbows, I avoid LGBT news and I feel awkward each time I see someone being visibly LGBT…

But really, I think I’m being so obsessed by it that I’m triggering old memories of when I was gay, I almost caught myself checking out a guy… If I didn’t know I was on the Conversion Powder, I would have said I was living through a gay awakening…

June 5th

OKAY OKAY CODE RED IT’S CONFIRMED I’M SOMEHOW REGAINING MY ATTRACTION TO MEN !

It’s too much to only be Pride Month behind that. I’m actively being turned on by men… even though I’m taking the powder everyday… each time it happens I switch to a mental image of a woman, but it doesn’t seem to really do anything…. I’m straight, that’s for sure, but why is my body suddenly not wanting to respond correctly ?

Fuck, why am I writing this, it has to be a fluke, I’m sure… I must be quite horny, since Abby has been quite busy with her internship.

I’ll call her up, have some good straight sex like I should, and see if this fluke happens again tomorrow (hint : it won’t).

June 6th

It did.

If I could sigh on paper, I would. Trust me.

The sex was a bit forced, I’ll admit, but today when I went for a morning jog, I saw one of the most drop-dead gorgeous guy I had ever seen… He was quite muscular, but not too much, was tall, handsome, had great hair and a light dusting of body hair where it mattered. Plus, his pecs were quite prominent, it felt as if I could squeeze them and sleep on them, they were so juicy… Fuck, reading back I’m describing that guy like I used to describe guys when I was gay, even though I’m straight…

Tomorrow I’ll up the dose of Conversion Powder, I’ll see what will happen.

June 7th

Do NOT take more than one dose of Conversion Powder at once, learn from my experience.

When I took those two drinks, I had the worst headache I’ve ever had… and then I was hyper-horny for a good 6 to 8 hours, wanting to fuck women, fuck women and fuck women… I’m really happy I had nowhere to go today, since I just gooned myself to straight porn for hours on end, even forgot to eat. It was actual madness.

But then, suddenly, my horniness stopped. I was just… spent, sitting inside a mess of cumstains that were hell to wash out, not really understanding what happened to me.

I’m afraid.

June 9th

The situation did not improve, my attraction to men just kept coming back, to the point I can basically now call myself thoroughly bisexual. But I’m not under any illusion : my attraction to women is very likely going to fade at some point.

And it’s going to make me lose Abby.

I’ve also looked around on the web, and found that I’m not actually the only one to be “reverted”, as people seem to refer to it as. Apparently, it’s due to people being used to the drug : since it cannot actually change attraction, it only overwrites attraction. So it acts like a drug, the more you take it the less effective it becomes…

So yeah, I’m becoming gay whether I want it or not…

June 12th

It’s beginning. The end is beginning.

I feel it, how women are starting to interest me less and less. I’d rather be dealing with dicks than with pussies… I had sex with Abby yesterday, and I just wasn’t into it. It just didn’t feel as exciting, as wonderful as it used to be when I first had sex with her…

Even she noticed it, and asked if everything was alright with me. I lied about being tired because of training, but it will only get me so far… I need to tell her at some point, before it’s too late. But I just don’t have the heart to break hers, it would also break my heart to have to leave her… I really wish I could stay straight…

So much for being “normal”, eh ?

June 14th

This afternoon, we met for our usual Wednesday dates. And I gathered the courage to tell her everything.

I told her how I was gay, how I used the Conversion Powder, how I then had a crush on her, and how I’m slowly becoming gay again. I was so afraid telling her that. Because I absolutely was in the wrong, I kept her in the dark about an important part of myself, and I was afraid of her reaction… heh, it’s kind of my first coming-out, in a way.

However, Abby, blessed be her heart, took it in strides, and the only thing she became angry over was the fact that I decided to take the Conversion Powder… Turns out she’s bisexual, and is really against it, and I guess I became another example for her to latch onto to deem it unacceptable… We had a goodbye kiss, and I told her that I still had a few days of liking women, so we should do whatever last thing together as a couple as we can.

I’ll see what she has in store for me.

June 15th

Okay, today was wild.

Abby basically took a whole day off just for me, and invited me to her place. And I was barely inside her bedroom that she just came in with tons of sex toys. I’m not even sure where she found half of those… And so, we just spent the remainder of the day having sex in many a kinky setup… the last of my straight sex would be kinky sex…

It was great, I hadn’t had so much fun in a long while, especially worrying this much about the end of the Conversion Powder… and I feel that from now on I’ll know her body way too much for someone who will soon become her Gay Best Friend.

So yeah, a great way to close the straight chapter of my life. We’ve decided, with Abby, that tomorrow I’ll get off the Conversion Powder, and that will be our official break up.

June 16th

First day without Conversion Powder, and I’ve been in bed fighting the inevitable headache that such an action accompanies.

Abby was kind enough to come look after me, and it honestly felt really weird to look at her and feel basically not much happening in my dick. Only remained aesthetic attraction.

While she was here, I made her read this diary. It was quite a humbling experience, as she was basically reading through my heart. Her reactions ranged from laughter to concern, including a few realizations about our history together. I mean, I didn’t know she remembered the time I almost confessed to her but was interrupted by someone else !

She also told me that it was weird how I didn’t mention being afraid about the bros, and honestly… I find it also weird now that she mentions it. I dunno, when I decided to take the powder, fitting in with the bros was such a priority for me, yet today, I feel like I have such a good relationship that I wouldn’t trust them to care either way. But I did make a coming out message in our group chat, basically explaining the same stuff as I did with Abby. I’ll see how it goes, but currently Terry eagerly responded with a “I support you!!!!!!1!!!”.

June 18th

My headache was very strong, and I stayed in bed again yesterday, but by now I think it has passed. I didn’t expect the aftereffects of the Conversion Powder to be this severe...

I don’t think I’ll have much to say in this diary in the future, especially as I seem to be going back to the normal me. I mean, normal gay me. But since I’ve had a lot of time to think about this whole situation the past few days, I’ll write about my experiences here.

So, first of all, I’m glad to have made this experience of what straight life looks like. However, I also think that it was a mistake.

Basically, I think that when I did it, I took the easy way out. Pointing to an inalienable part of myself as being the cause of all my woes and then trying to remove it, it just shows a laziness from me. Like I can’t try and imagine what an actual solution looks like, I have to change myself before being able to fix stuff. However, I feel that this experience made me learn that I was actually able to do all the things I felt were lacking. Talking to Abby she made me notice that, aside from being straight, nothing really changed after taking the Conversion Powder, so all the things I blamed myself for making me look faggy just… didn’t. It was only me being afraid, and letting it talk rather than the rational mind. So all the good things I had when I was straight, I can just have them if I get out of the mindset that gay is bad.

So… yeah ! Although it still feels a bit weird to say, I’m gay, and I’m proud ! All my woes weren’t due to me being gay, they were due to me being afraid, so now I decide to not be afraid anymore ! I hope that whoever reads this diary (including me) will understand that they don’t need to take out a part of themselves to find happiness. They need to get over their fears, and only this way will the road to happiness will be opened !

Well said, love from the past ! -T

[magicalink]

Do they fuck or do they make love?

Headcanons with no specific AU! Mainly character x reader but it ended up implying character x character ships too in sime characters. I wrote this headcanons and when I was reading them to my boyfriend (who is my only beta reader) he started giving his opinions about them and I found his comments absolutely hilarious so I decided to include them! 🤣 First go my headcanons about the character and then my boyfriend's comments indented. Some of them are unhinged 🤣

Venti: Depends on the partner and the situation. He adores making delicate love to you but he's always up for a quickie in the middle of the house, the forest, anywhere and anytime you're willing. And oh Archons, is he intense when he does any of the two! He likes sex to be THE experience, and he tends to be over the top when it comes to it. Also an uncontrollable moaning machine.

Bf: Nah, he fucks. All the time. Cuz he is drunk all the time. We all know his only love is alcohol. I agree on the moaning machine part though, he is loud and doesn't care if others hear.

Diluc: Makes love. He has no time for sex if it's not with the love of his life. Doing it with him is a ceremony to remember. Expect long sessions full of kisses, heartwarming confessions, and body worshipping.

Bf: Accurate. Total gentleman. He only makes love. And possibly the first time you do it he will propose to you the morning after.

Childe: Fucks. He is all in for the adrenaline and pleasure in life, whether it's battle or it's lust. He wants to dive in and feel as much as he can,the more intense and dangerous, the better.

Bf: A fucking degenerate. He loves violence and competition and if he doesn't get it in sex then he's not interested. More of a masochist than a sadist, don't be surprised if you fight him and he ends up insinuating sexually to you. Especially if you're winning the fight. He wants to get beaten up. To sum up, he has a very weird way of "making love"...

Xiao: Makes love. To him, it's something sacred that should be shared with the people you love and respect the most. Will worship every inch of your body and be desperate to convey his feelings to you. Will focus completely on your pleasure, so make sure to calm him down and reward him a bit too!

Bf: Turbo virgin who self cock blocks all the time. He is always afraid: of hurting you, of making you uncomfortable, of saying something wrong, of looking at the wrong place...If you moan he asks you if you're okay. He gets soft all the time because he is afraid of hurting you. He has suicidal thoughts half the encounter. But yeah he makes love.

Albedo: Who knows, really. He's still studying what's the difference between the two. And he sure is doing an experiment and carefully studying it when he has sex with you. To be perfectly clear, he loves you, but this whole thing about sex and human relationships is new to him so he's trying to understand all these new feelings. 

Bf: "Making love? Fucking? What is that? I'm the chalkman." Doesnt have a dick and if he had, he is not interested in human relationships at all. But if you manage to fuck him he would be writing down notes about it the whole time.

Scaramouche: Fucks because he thinks giving in to love will make him weak.💔

Bf: Fucks and he only thinks about his mommy issues while doing it. He only fucks to dissociate. And if you treat him with basic human kindness he will start seeing you as a maternal figure so be careful.

Wanderer: Now understands that lying about his feelings is the true form of weakness and doesn't want to waste a single more second of life, he makes love to you making sure he makes crystal clear how he feels about you: in the most explicit, toe-curling, fluid dropping way he can. If you like it hard, prepare to be smacked until you can't sit the following day.

Bf: He's gone to therapy so the mommy issues are better but he's still annoying af. He plays hard to get and pretends not to be committed but the truth is he's just being tsundere and hiding the fact that he is eating from the palm of your hand.

Kazuha: Makes the finest comfiest love in the world. Fucks like a horndog when he's drunk or high but won't stop telling you how crazily he loves you while doing it.

Bf: He is high af the vast majority of the time and during sex, it's no exception. If you manage to fuck him sober he will be the super reflexive and emotional type that cries during sex. But he fucks you lovely but won't make love to you, he only makes love with the love of his life Tomo, the rest of you are his cattle. He's a super friendly guy so after sex he will share his weed with you.

Gorou: He's a gentleman who wants to become good at making love but is extremely shy and gets flustered easily so he fucks sloppily. An adorable sight to behold!

Bf: I agree he is a little gentleman.

Tighnari: Makes love. Except when he's in heat. Then you have to be prepared if you wanna handle him. 

Bf: another stoner. He would experiments with aphrodisiacs all the time, makimg them into weird salts or sth.

Cyno: Very similar to his jokes. He's completely sure he's giving his best at making love to you or Tighnari and showing you his devotion, but his poker face, stoic manners, and scary appearance make him look like he's angry fucking you. He doesn't get what he's doing wrong and doesn't do it on purpose. But it doesn't matter since you know him very well and not only are you used to his antics but you also have become sensitive to his very subtle changes of expression.

Bf: He can't help bit to tell bad jokes when he fucks. Self cockblocks himself all the time: either he goes soft in the middle of the act because he's laughing at his own jokes or he makes so cringy jokes that his partner gets uncomfortable and leaves. He can't help it, if he doesn't get them our he will explode.

Itto: Fucks wildly but it's his way of making love. He is just too brute to control the size and strength of his body, especially when he is under the effect of the feral feelings he has for you. 

He loves you so much he can't help but to pick you up like you're a potato sack and swirl you in the air like you are a rag doll and take you with him everywhere. When he hugs you he leaves you breathless, when he kisses you he leaves you all sloppy and when he fucks you…well he leaves you sore for weeks but let's say it's totally worth it!

Bf: totally disagree! It would be so hard to fuck him, he would be clueless and friend zone or family zone you all the time. If you tell him you wanna be more than friends he would say "Superfriends??" With the biggest smile. And if you manage to fuck him he would be super careful, he knows he is a brute and is scared of hurting you.

Thoma: Makes super lovey-dovey love. Always double-checks if you're comfortable and enjoying the experience. Knowing he's making you feel good makes him glad and arouses him so don't be shy and tell him if he's doing it well!

Bf: nononono, absolutely wrong, you're blinded by his looks. He is a degenerate masochist and he only fucks Ayato. They have this weird dynamic where he literally acts as his dog.

Ayato: Another one who depends on the partner and situation. Honestly, he's so overworked that he desperately needs a good fuck. Ok maybe many of them. But not only he doesn't have the time, but also he can't be seen sleeping around due to his political position, so probably he'll only get to have sex when he finally finds the person he wants to marry. He hopes to be able to marry someone he actually loves instead of marrying for political reasons. So if you're the lucky one, expect heated sessions of lovemaking from this touch-starved man! Also, he'll love you but that doesn't mean he's gonna stop being a merciless tease 👀

Bf: Degenerate sadist who only has eyes for Thoma and makes him go through so much weird stuff they don't even remember what is to have normal sex. Tying him up and putting him on a leash is the most normal thing out of what they do.

Kaeya: Fucks. He lives for the spectacle and the mystique of it. Also, he's super popular around Mondstadt and wherever he goes so he sleeps around a lot. He has tons of admirers from both sexes and he makes sure to reward their love and devotion. He knows exactly how to please people, how to exacerbate his natural beauty and how to leave them crazy for him. He's simply so erotically natured. Probably the most experienced guy you know in the field. 

Bf: Agree. Turbo slut. No more comments needed. If he manages to open his heart he can be sensitive. But that only happened once and it was with his own reflection in a mirror.

Heizou: Fucks lovingly 💕 He loves teasing and making his partner flustered. People and relationships are simply so fun and fascinating to him. And when he gets to be sexually intimate with someone it's even better! If you end up involved with him, be prepared to be taken to your limits.

Bf: Another degenerate. Probably makes you pretend you're a criminal to chase you around town. Pretty sadistic and I can imagine him having yandere tendencies. A cool guy though. When he is not horny.

Al Haitam: Zero interested in the matter. Until he met you. He is learning everything from scratch and even though he's always been a fast learner in everything, this subject is particularly hard since he needs to stop rationalizing and let his feelings take control for once. But his feelings for you are pretty intense, so little by little he is learning how to make love to you 💚

Bf: I imagine him as a turbo aspirator 3000. He would suck your soul out of your genitals. If you manage him to make him interested in sex, which is highly unlikely because he is like 0 interested in any kind of human contact. I picture him having sex with Kaveh and Kaveh would be a pillow princess and Haitham despite being the kind of guy who always sits down and just reads books he would be restless in bed, doing all the job and moving him around.

Kaveh: Another sweet-sweet love guy! He'll make sure to treat you like a princess and spoil you rotten in and out of the bedroom. He'll do the corniest expressions of chivalry but please bear with him, it genuinely comes from his heart. But if you want to see a more sloppy and wrecked side of him, you can always seduce him after he goes to the bar…

Bf: Sassy pillow princess. Or prince? Idk how to say it. He doesn't do anything but he will be all the time criticizing or praising what you do like a talent show judge. "Come on? Is it the first time you suck a cock or what?" You can imagine this kind of behavior is what infuriates Al Haitham and motivates him to go feral and fuck him around the whole house until he shuts the fuck up.

BONUS: This is an old draft but now that Neuvillete and Wriostheley are out, we couldn't let them out! So for this, we are interchanging roles, my bf will give you his headcanons and I will comment!

Bf: I'm 100% sure both Neuvie and Wriot are completely opposite in bed from their personalities in public. Our chivalrous and calm Neuvie is a pasional beast in bed. He is unsatiable, he is a dragon after all. Gives me the same vibes as Zhong Li who acts super calm but when fucking Childe he destroys 3 hotel rooms every night (exactly the type Childe loves. He got a crush on him when he struck him down at Fontaine's court. I'm sure Zhong Li will get jealous when he finds out and we will have some dragon drama going on) Back to Neuvie, he is super feral but he doesn't fuck, he makes love. It's his draconic way of making love. He is also very emotional and if he likes you, after having sex and having calmed down, he will open his wallet and start showing you the pictures of his 300 Melusine daughters and tell you their names and each of their jobs. He is a very proud dad.

Wriothesley loves you from a distance. While you fuck he is super sweet and loving, but during everyday life, he sucks at showing his feelings. He reminds me of the dad of Komi San, super silent but full of love. He communicates through glances (like a dog). Everyone thinks he is a bad boy but he's a super sentimental guy (won't admit it though) If you give him a gift he will treasure it forever and if someone breaks it or steals it from him he will beat them up.

One of his phrases would be "If something happens to my schmoochpsiepups I will kill everyone in Teyvat and then myself," and when he messes up with you for being unable to show his emotions he goes to a karaoke and sings "Baka Mitai" all depressed. He has 0 emotional intelligence and would go there often, crying "Oh, I wanted to tell Y/N how much I love them before they went away and I just groaned 'hmmm' AGAIN 😭😭".

YET ANOTHER BONUS: If Neuvillete and Wriothesley were in a romantic relationship, I'm sure Neuvie would tell him about all of his Melusine daughters. Wriot would act all cold and as if he didn't care but in fact he remembers all their names and thinks about them as his adoptive daughters. Don't be surprised if you walk down the street and see a Melusine falling down and he rescues her and goes to buy her an ice cream cone. He is a proud dad too.

Me: I have no comments. I agree with everything. And Wriot singing Baka Mitai would be amazing, he has the voice of Jotaro and Erwin after all.

FINAL THOUGHTS: Wow this post was longer than intended. AND ONLY NOW I realize we left Lyney and Zhong Li out. I guess bc to me Lyney is kinda teen coded? I feel like they wasted so much husband material making him look so young. I've seen the fandom drawing him as an adult and he looks so hansome. And both my bf and I rambled about Zhong Li but we forgot to include an entry for him 😂 He says it's ok because he's tied to Tartaglia and we spoke about him in Tartaglia's section 😂 God we are a disaster. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the post, whether you found the headcanons hot or my bf's comments funny. He is scared of getting cancelled though 😂

[luboy7rt]

How Team GHOST Would React To You Being Brainwashed (Headcanons) (GN reader) (Elias, Hesh, Logan, Merrick, Keegan and Kick and Riley)

(Note: This is just what I (My headcanons), enjoy reading!)(Could be seen as Platonic, Romantic?)

(Reader is in the infirmary after the Federation brainwashed you, after months of not seeing you, how would characters react to you being so different)

Elias Walker:

- Elias went silent as he sat in your infirmary room, his arms crossed firmly. Elias is a hit..  saddened, he knew Rorke before he got brainwashed.. he never wanted it to happen to someone he knew so well, someone he cherished.

- Elias stares into your dull eyes as he sat next to you, his jaw subtly clenched as he would force himself to give you a reassuring smile.

- Elias would talk, talk a lot despite the fact he never talked much, he would catch you up on everything and anything, telling you stories about the memories You have shared together that you might have been brainwashed to forget.

- Elias would simply spend time with you, your body chained down due to your Brainwashed state, but.. Elias wasn't able to ‘get over’ it, like he did with Rorke, He wasn't able to not visit you. He had a chance to help you, he was willing to spend his time doing so. He never got the chance to help Rorke, he regretted not trying more to save the man in the past… But the past was the past and you were his future, you were more important and the current, he decided to focus on the present.

- Elias would pull up your covers if you weren't able to or didn't/couldn't move due to your brainwashed state. Elias would personally care for you, and when he couldn't he ensured it was a trusted friend, teammate or medic to care for you.

- Elias would give you headpats, he gently murmurs when you flinch back due to the trauma you have experienced by being Brainwashed and tortured by the Federation. Elias would respect your space but also wants to gently get used to his touch again.

- He would read You stories, his voice is great for it. (If you are his child, or if he raised you it's because he wants to remember the good times… and make you remember that he's here. or He would hum a soft song he hummed to you when you were very young or maybe humming a song Ms Walker would always hum before she passed) Elias would even read out loud or hum gently even if you are sleeping, he saves the stories about Team Ghosts and stories about you, or the others for when you are awake and ‘listening’.

- Elias would be there for physical therapy, every moment, whenever you needed help but couldn't voice it. Elias would be there, and he gets really good at just guessing what you needed.

- Elias wants to be the first person you see in the day, not a medic, despite the fact he knows you have false memories, or your memories were messed with, he wanted that trust you once had for him, he wants you to understand you were safe with him.

- Elias gives you a forehead kiss when he arrives to your side and one before he leaves, just to make a habit form so you can expect affection from him or if you're not that close he would pat your head instead.

David ‘Hesh’ Walker:

- Hesh falls asleep on the infirmary bed next to you every night, emotionally exhausted as you were the first experience of someone he knew so well being brainwashed. Hesh would refuse to leave your side, willing to stay put until he knows you are aware again.

- He does cry when he gets frustrated, knowing you were in pain, knowing he couldn't help.. knowing your memories were messed with, he tries to hide it, but his hand is tightly holding yours. He's on his knees by your infirmary bed, his face buried into the mattress as he murmurs ‘I got you’, ‘you'll be alright’ multiple times over and over again.

- Hesh tries to encourage you, to get up.. to move about a tiny bit.. to strengthen your limbs once again. Hesh takes you walking around the base when you are mentally aware enough to not attack him or others.

- His hands gently clasped around yours, after days of ‘waiting’ for something.. anything from you. Hesh began speaking to you, rambling on about any topic he could think of. Trying to comfort you so he talks about any topic that you had brought up to him before you went missing, it could be about a hobby you were telling him about or a story, or anything. He remembers, and will remember for you until you could hold onto the memories again.

- Hesh usually re-does your bandages, ensuring your wounds are disinfected and bandaged in clean bandages. He asked a medic to show him the ‘right way’, (he knew how to do this already, but asked the medic anyway to ensure he did it right). Hesh does this so you can get used to his touch once again, he flinches when you flinch at his touch because he isn't used to you flinching because of him.

- Hesh sneaks in your favorite snacks for you, despite the fact you weren't supposed to eat it, but he did sneak it in for a bed-time snack, trying to coax you with your favorite snack, so maybe it would trigger the memories of all the nice times you both have shared over snacks.

- He watches movies with you, Hesh didn't really care he was uncomfortably curled up in the chair next to your infirmary bed, ends up with Riley on his lap so you three could watch movies together while you recover.

- He tends to get frustrated and cry, but only a tiny bit, a few tears slipping from his eyes when he watches you, his heart hurt for you. Of course, he has seen a lot in his time as a soldier, he lost many friends, but he hadn't ‘lost’ someone like this before. He wanted to protect You but he couldn't figure out how.

Logan Walker:

- Logan didn't react much physically to the news you were back at base, back in the infirmary. He was told what had happened to you.. But he didn't visit at first, letting the rest of the Ghosts members visit you.

- He did visit at night though, when there wasn't supposed to be visitors, he snuck in. Silently sitting on the edge of your infirmary back, staring back at your dull eyes. At first he was surprised you were awake but he simply sat there.. so you wouldn't have to be alone again.

- Logan would stay the whole night, tapping your arm.. He ignored if you flinched, he understood what happened to those who have been brainwashed by the Federation. He tries to respect your space, doing just soft taps to let you know he was there every once in a while.

- Logan formed a habit to spend every night in your infirmary room, as if he was ‘guarding’ it for you. Ensuring no one came in, no matter how many times Elias tells him to allow you to sleep.. He does, but he's going to be around while you do.

- Logan simply wants to protect you, ensuring the Federation couldn't get you again, even though there is a slim chance of anyone getting into HQ, he likes to think it eases your mind, even if you couldn't or didn't voice it. 

- He'd sit there for hours, moving to sit next to you.. sometimes he would lay his head on your forearm, to sleep near you. Sometimes he would shift his head onto your chest to simply hear your heartbeat to ensure you were alive.

- Mentally Logan is breaking down, unable to handle the fact you were no longer the you he knew well. Not taking well to the fact your memories were messed with, so he tries to make you remember, using the rare photos he has of you and the team to try and show you.

Keegan P. Russ:

- Keegan broke in the moment he got word of your return, scaring all the medics as he kicked down the door (he didn't have to, it was unlocked, but he didn't realize It) as he stormed in. He would say your name, as he walked over to you. He sorta aggressively grabbed your shirt, to check your now bandaged wounds, just simply checking you over himself to just see you were alright, his gloved hands firmly checking over each of your now bandaged wounds.

- After a bit, he would grumble and sigh as grab the chair to the side, dragging it, the noise being loud, if you flinch he would place his hand on over your collarbones as if to keep you down, murmuring a soft shush as he did so.

- His hand would hold yours, his thumb rubbing over your knuckles as he would ensure no one else was around before being a bit affectionate with you. “You better be fuckin’ alright” Keegan would mutter under his breath.

- His hand stays firmly on your body, your chest, your arm. Your hand, he doesn’t care if you're brainwashed, he silently cares that you're alive. He’s willing to put up with you, he didn’t need you to remember (despite the fact, that he silently wishes for you to), he just needs you to be aware he’s there. Silently holding you, protecting you. He won’t admit it out loud, but all his actions while being around you are to protect you from further harm.

- He stays with you for a few hours every day. Leaving for missions when he needs to but he always usually returns to your side to inform you about his day. Aggressively challenges you, pissing you off with his snide comments, riling you up to do something.. anything. That's all he wanted, to get you back to your usual self.

- He would.. be a bit more patient than usual, sighing as he settles in the chair next to you. Ends up with his legs kicked up on your bed, his hand tightly holding yours, murmuring insults under his breath at the world.

- He would end up putting your favorite shows on, informing you of anything you couldn't remember, he knows it all. You're favorite character, favorite moment, anything you question about yourself, he probably knows it. 

- He plays music too, any music you like. As if trying to subconsciously make you remember anything. He would mutter the lyrics under his breath, having learned any songs you used to like in the time you weren't around. 

- His hand rests on your chest, feeling your heartbeat. He silently counts along to it, to ensure you were alive, well, and your heartbeat was beating at a decent pace.

- Keegan was willing to get you revenge as well, working his body to its limits on every mission to get rid of any Federation soldier in his path, he cared for his teammates a lot, and knowing what you went through, he would make them regret it

- Keegan is angry, angry at the world, the Federation.. Maybe a bit at you, despite knowing it was stupid. It wasn’t your fault you were captured, maybe he was also angry at himself, but he simply kept that anger for himself and any Federation soldiers he comes across in the future.

Thomas A. Merrick

- Merrick is surprisingly gentle, his hand resting on your shoulder as he sits on the chair next to your infirmary bed. He shifted the binders of work he needed to do on the floor by his seat as he checks up on you. 

- He tends to just quietly work by your side. It was a win-win for him, he gets to stay by your side while also finishing up on work. Sometimes he would talk when you are awake. Sometimes just telling you about things you had missed while gone for the months you were tortured and brainwashed.

- He would also apologize for all that you went through, he feels bad. He understands he couldn't control what happened but he regretted not moving fast enough to save you.

- Merrick would check up on you as well, checking your bandages, it's not that he didn't trust the medics, he did. But he felt like sometimes he just had to see for himself you were okay.

- He would be there, he would call himself stupid if he wasn't, he liked just talking to you, it reminded him of what your relationship was like before you were brainwashed..  or just talking to you. He didn't need you to speak back if you didn't feel like it, or couldn't.

- He would take you on walks, leading the way, or showing you around HQ again, even if you couldn't remember the way around. Merrick gladly will show you around, as many times as you need. He would also remind you of funny stories, and explain where it took place to try and get you to remember.

- Merrick is saddened and pissed off, but he understands, he couldn’t be sad forever. Yes, he will grieve the past version of you that he knew very well. But he simply kept that quiet and helped you recover. Merrick knew he would like the you, you are despite you being brainwashed, and he will continue to support you through it all. But on the field? Suddenly he gets more scary, yelling a lot more, and aggressively taking out Federation soldiers.

Kick:

- Kick is there, by your side while he has a break in his work, his hand firmly holding your forearm as if to ensure he doesn't ‘lose’ you again. He doesn't talk the first few days of your return, he glances away when your dull eyes meet his.

- He would also pick up one of your hobbies, even if you forgot all about it, if it was a video game, he would play the game and remind you all about it, what you liked, which characters you liked, show you your account and make his own. If you liked drawing, he would attempt to get into it. Basically just picks up any hobbies you had, to try and re-teach you, wanting to see the passion/love you had for it return.

- He’s a bit overbearing, wanting to see everything, every injury, every one who enters your room, he just wants to ensure you are okay.

- He uses a military drone to ‘entertain’ you, even if you don't react much and just watch, he's happy, talking you through his own hobbies for hours at a time. He just is trying to spend time with you, he almost lost you, and he wouldn't take his time for granted anymore.

- His hand is usually resting on you, your shoulder, forearm, knee anywhere you feel comfortable with. 

- He would sometimes tell you about his day, or something stupid Logan and Hesh have done as of late. 

- He would sneak in food, whatever you liked before getting brainwashed, he would cook it himself for you, the cost doesn't matter, if you liked it, he buys or cooks it. Leaves a note that he did indeed bring you food for the medics incase they needed to know but he does it before he leaves so the he doesn't have to face the medics.

- He also brings you your stuff, things you liked or like to do, will bring you books, papers, yarn anything really you want or can do. 

- He frowns when you don't react to the things he brings, as he sees you don't have the passion for any thing you used to like. He doesn't like seeing you.. Brainwashed, doesn't like that you don't respond, and only respond to orders. He will be here while you heal, understanding you would never be the same person he once knew.

- He tries to hype you up, oh you sat up for the first time since getting back? He's hyping you up, you talk for the first time since being tortured, you got this! He's hyping you up every step of the way on your journey to heal.

- He’ll do something stupid just to see you smile, he would make Logan and Hesh do something stupider to just see you smile, encourages stupid shit to Logan and Hesh, saying that yeah.. that would make you smile. But ends up just laughing at the two, and using them as his own amusement while ensuring he would be by your side the whole time.

Riley: (Honorary Dog mention) 

- Riley is sat by the side of your bed when he isn't with Hesh, firmly sat there to protect You.

- Barks for medics when you ‘need’ it, swiftly learns that when your hand brushes against his tail, he needs to bark loudly for a medic to check up on you.

- He waits for you to be ‘better’ so he could get you to play fetch with him, but for now.. until you heal, he is willing to wait by your side. 

- After a few months of your healing journey, Riley sets up to lay on the bottom of your bed instead of on the floor.. flops his head by your handcuffed hand so you can pet him.

- Riley is very loyal, staying put for hours at a time, when he wakes up, his eyes glance at you. To ensure you were alive, awake, and aware. If you sleep too long he chomps (lightly) on your hand to wake you up.. if you don't, Riley goes running off to the first Ghosts member he could find to drag them over to you.

[g-n-c-quoi]

i feel like the idea of “treatment” when it comes to being disabled is a very complex and nuanced concept and the way able bodied society as a whole but doctors especially approach it fails to address most of those nuances and in doing so fundamentally fails to meet the needs of disabled people. which, of course, is nothing new really, but i think a lot about this particular aspect of it and how deeply detrimental it can be

anecdotally, a lot of my personal experiences with doctors involved them prescribing me treatments that were, at best, completely asinine, and at worst, actively harmful to my health, and then treating it as a personal moral fault of mine that i wasn’t enthusiastically pursuing them

for example, i insisted repeatedly to my parents and providers alike that physical therapy for my EDS was proving not only agonizing in the short term but appearing to have little if any benefit in the long term, and was repeatedly brushed off because i “just wasn’t doing it consistently enough” and it was insisted to me on multiple occasions that this was the only way for me to feel better, while at the same time i was being denied access to mobility aids because they didn’t want me to become “dependent”

a lot has changed since then and as i’m learning more about my body and how to take care of it it baffles me how much more pain i was in on a daily basis and how little anyone around me was willing or able to help

and, like, i know none of this was a result of outright malice. i am lucky enough to have had most of my doctors be, at the very least, genuinely intending to try to help me. where the shortcomings were was in the response to me not engaging with a form of treatment that was proving to do more harm than good.

i think this happens for two reasons, the first being one we know already, which is that people in general- doctors in this case, but people as a whole- do not like being wrong. when what they have learned to be immutable fact proves to have exceptions, the way every rule does, they cannot comprehend it. some even take personal offense. it’s like, “i know your body better than you because i went to school for it and you didn’t”. a lot of disabled people are deeply familiar with this one, because it’s deeply pervasive in the medical field especially.

the other reason is that people cannot comprehend the idea of refusing something that is intended to make you feel better. when i went off my meds, when i would refuse over the counter painkillers, when i would flake out of therapy of either the physical or mental variety, i was met with shock and outrage because “i wasn’t trying to get better”, never mind my repeated assertions that these things were not helping me get better in the first place. no one could imagine i would opt out of something that was done to improve my symptoms for any reason other than teenage petulance, and so all of my concerns and complaints were dismissed as just that.

and, of course, now that i’ve found things that do help me- occasional mobility aid usage, medicinal use of cannabis, etc- it’s dismissed by all the same people as risky and not worth it. the same concerns i had about the treatments i was receiving.

another issue is the fact that once the one default Thing for your condition doesn’t work or you don’t want it they basically treat you like you’re out of options and are just doomed to feel like this forever. for me it was physical therapy, and in another case the stimulants i was prescribed when i was first diagnosed with adhd that they took me off of and then never tried anything else until like four years later

the whole thing is set up to make disabled people as reliant on doctors as possible for things that may not even be the best option for them

[dolliesiu]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐋 𝐋𝐈𝐔 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 ꒷꒦ ๋࣭ ⭑

notes : I did not expect my previous posts to get the attention they did! Anyways, these are my headcanons for Liu! I just want to clarify that my version of Liu does NOT have DID as I don't believe it was portrayed properly in his original story. I also do not want to portray DID poorly.

★ Has heterochromia iridum. His right eye is green while his left eye is brown.

★ Spends A LOT of time watching documentaries, specifically one’s relating to psychology as it’s a huge fascination of his.

★ Very interested in journaling. He mainly writes about his feelings and thoughts as he has trouble understanding and describing them. Most of his entries include his violent and intrusive thoughts.

★ His alter ego, Sully, was an identity Liu had consciously created as a way to cope with his inner mental and emotional conflicts. He felt indifferent towards his brother. Part of him wanted to forgive him, despite almost being murdered by his own blood; The other held a massive grudge against him, actively wanting to torture him in the most brutal ways possible. As a “coping mechanism”, he resorted to lashing out at others, taking his anger out on innocent pedestrians mercilessly. He got much worse over time as it messed with his overall ability to manage his emotions. It resulted in him recognizing each one of them as overwhelming and unbearable.

★ Feels extremely guilty about his actions. He heavily regrets having taken out his own frustrations and anger on those who weren't to blame for it.

★ Originally had a lot of scars. Most of them have faded away with time, but he still has a few visible.

★ Occasionally has therapy sessions with Jack as he seems to have the most experience in the field. Most of these sessions include Liu rambling and trying his best to talk or even explain his emotions. Surprisingly, it’s helped him a bit.

★ Liu is very different from his persona, Sully. He’s soft-spoken, generally anxious, and quite sensitive. Most of the time, he’s willing to lend a helping hand when needed.

★ Liu tends to layer his clothing to hide most of these scars though, especially the large one on his neck as it hasn’t completely disappeared.

★ Often neglects his physical needs. He tends to prioritize things he considers to be more important, so he ends up forgetting most of the time.

★ Enjoys collecting a variety of items he finds that either catch his interest or is strange in general.

★ Knows how to play the violin as he used to take classes as a teen.

★ Taught himself how to sew! Whenever he’s out, he tends to accidentally rip parts of his clothing out of pure clumsiness, so he figured it’d be a useful skill to learn.

★ His height is around 5’9.

★ He has quite a distaste for horror movies, yet he’ll oddly enough find himself watching them. He especially takes in great detail of the gruesome murders happening in the films.

[groenendaelfic]

you know I wasn't going to comment on anything s3 in detail or write a super long divisive post because that's draining and tiring and I just want everyone to have fun and find joy in fandom in whatever way is best for them. And yet here we are. Who'd have thought?

All I wanted from season 3 was for Wilmon to talk to and with each other, to get to know each other (better) and to try to understand and support each other and grow together. To be a couple in love and working on their relationship, learning from each other. Them against the world, facing problems together as a team. I wanted romance and hugs and honesty, and all I got was them being horny. I mean don't get me wrong I love them being horny, but I don't want that to be their entire (positive) relationship and the only thing they have going for them as a couple. Please just have an actual, proper conversation with each other?

This post however is not about that. This post is about Kristina.

I hate what they did with her. I hate her entire character arc (if you can call it that) in s3. I hate what triggered her breakdown. I hate that instead of breaking the circle of abuse and emotional and physical neglect she no doubt suffered, she perpetuated it.

She left her son alone when he needed her most. When all he needed was a hug and a good long cry and the assurance that he's not alone, that she's there for him. That she understands. For someone (his family) to be there and listen and assure him that for them, Wille comes first. (I mean not all, he also needed proper therapy for one, but that'd have been a great and important start)

Wille is a child. Her child. Wille needed her and she failed him. She pushed him away and she sent him away and she left him alone.

(the same is true for Ludvig of course, it'd be extremely sexist etc to not put the exact same expectations and blame on him as well, but alas this post is only indirectly about him as everything always is at best)

However.

Her son is dead.

She's been groomed to believe her entire purpose in life is to be a mascot (which comes with very specific expectations and restrictions she herself said she struggled to adapt to) and to give birth to the next mascot.

I don't pity her for that, but that's still her entire identity and purpose in life. It's always been, and now the next mascot is dead and she has to burden the son she thought would be spared with it all, pun very much intended.

But let's return to my first point first. Her son is dead. Not just the next mascot. Her son.

Yes, Wille's brother died as well and I'll never make light of that. It's horrible and a grief and pain impossible to put into words. Especially as a kid or young teen. Wille needs all the support. Still.

It's not the same.

I know it's not the same because I know exactly what it's like. Both of it.

Granted I'm not a queen, but I did have a cousin who died aged sixteen. We lived in the same house their entire life and shared a bedroom for years. We were like siblings. It was my first time experiencing the death of a close loved one and it was horrible. We all struggled for a long time. Their siblings and I and the entire family, and they will never be forgotten, but it broke my aunt and uncle. Fifteen years later and they're still broken.

I also have two sons and a spouse who are dead (no I didn't lose them, I know exactly where they are) and I promise you it's not the same. A dead sibling is nothing like a dead child. (not that it's a competition)

I'm not going to talk about what it does to you internally, but I will tell you what you'll experience from the outside world when your family dies excitingly enough to make it to the local newspaper. Then feel free to multiply it by a large number of your own choosing when you're royalty and the entire country is looking at you and you've been groomed to never lose composure.

Everyone will call and show up and want to show their support and their condolences (that lasts until about a week or so after the funeral). And they will get two words in and break down and cry, each and every one of them, and then it's your job to console them and be strong and deal with all the arrangements and lawyers and bureaucracy. And it'll have to be you for most things no matter how supportive your family might be, because it's you who needs to sign shit and show the school a death certificate. Everyone will mean well, but it'll be everyone else who'll require reassurance and you who'll have no choice but to function because at first there's so much to do. So much. You won't have time to breathe until after the funeral, and after that there're still so much more to do and take care of you'd never have considered before. For weeks. You can ask someone else to drive you but it'll still be you who's required to show up and do the thing. Some things will drag out for months and more. You don't have time to break down and be weak. You can't afford to, because you also have a job and other responsibilities and a duty to your dead loved ones.

But then the day comes when it's 'over' and there's nothing more to do. Sure people still look at you with pity and whisper behind your back wherever you go and fall quiet, unsure how to react or what to say, because you're now the lady who lost her family in a freak accident, but everything and everyone else moves on. That's normal. It can't not. But it's that quiet after which is the most dangerous.

I hate that they made Kristina's breaking point her son publicly coming out as queer, renouncing following traditions without thought and admitting to having been in the video. I hate it so much, because that was a choice made with an entirely different motive behind the one I'll expound on now and I hate that. Don't instrumentalize grief and the loss of a child and sibling to further prove and underline your political agenda (which I agree with). It cheapens it and was very much unnecessary. We all would've gotten the point without it as well.

But you know what? I can't fault Kristina for that.

You don't know your breaking point until you reach it. It can be anything. There's a reason the saying goes 'the straw that broke the camel's back'. Everyone has a different one and they often feel very ridiculous to oneself (which is a very helpful feeling in that situation, believe me /s). I've talked to numerous people who've gone through something similar. In my support group and in grief counseling and group therapy. No one I've met had a 'logical' breaking point.

Mine came late last fall when I saw a robin outside my window. Yes a bird. We'd have one come every winter to eat the oats and raisins etc we put out for it, and my youngest would spend endless hours every day before dusk looking out that window waiting for the robin to come and eat for a few moments at a time, less if he started clapping out of excitement.

That was it. Boom. I was useless for the next seven weeks.

You don't let your grief overcome you. That isn't a choice. You don't choose not to function when a loved one dies. You don't choose to be depressed or to have the most ridiculous thing be your breaking point. You don't choose to be too strong to not let the grooming break you or to be too weak to be unable to break out of it. And you don't choose to be unable to sit at a birthday party and enjoy cake with a son you know you'll have to force into a role he never wanted, the one your dead son was supposed to fill.

Does that make Kristina any less of a shitty mom? No, of course not. Nor does it change anything for Wille. Kristina's grief shouldn't be Wille's concern. But you don't choose any of that, and the stronger you have to appear the farther you'll fall once you just can't hold it together anymore.

I grew up with a very large, multicultural extended family. There wasn't an hour I was awake at home as a kid when I wasn't hugged or kissed by a younger cousin or aunt or my mom (it was super annoying). We talked and still talk about everything. I married into a family which was a bit less physical and more Swedish in showing their affection, but they are still very open and loving and genuine. I had all the support I could ask for. They're the best and I couldn't have asked for more.

It's not enough. Your child is dead. And Kristina had none of that.

Is Kristina (and Ludvig) super annoying for going on and on and on about Erik and how perfect he was? About always bringing him up when they have a son right there who needs them desperately?

Yes. It annoyed me too. I kept catching myself being furious on Wille's behalf and Simon's with how Wille reacted to the not-comparison between Erik and Sara. But I understand Wille's reaction to Simon and I understand Kristina and Ludvig.

Because once your child / sibling / spouse / dog dies?

They become perfect. My oldest once poured syrup where he shouldn't (it was a Nordic winter night and the car was thirsty) resulting in us being out of our only car, our insurance laughing at us, and us unable to afford a new one. It cost a lot of money, my spouse almost their job and made our life a lot harder for well over a year. He was old enough to know better (and leave the house by himself to go outside and play). He never did anything wrong in his life. He was perfect. They were all perfect.

Erik? What we learn about him is horrifying, and it being normalized and dare I say institutionalized, with him probably not having second guessed his actions, makes it worse instead of better. I do believe Erik was the kind of guy who just didn't (care to) think and merely did what was expected without further thought. That doesn't make it better either, because those kinds of people are the ones who keep corrupt systems running. I might be wrong about his character entirely, but it doesn't matter, because as soon as he died he became perfect.

It's weird what death does to our perception of a loved one. Or maybe not. It's also weird what death does to our perception of everything, because suddenly everything will remind us of that person.

A cloud? A scent? A sound? Toilet paper? Kristina is at the stage where everything she sees and feels and smells and hears will remind her of Erik and his death. Of how he's dead and now Wille has to become him and that is the worst.

Also her son is dead.

No she can't just pull herself together and eat the damn cake. Everything she talks about is Erik because everything she currently is is Erik. Her son who is dead.

There is a reason this is such an often used trope in fiction.

Kristina spent all her life being told that her duty to the throne is her only purpose in life. Be queen. Represent Sweden. Produce an heir. Part of why she's as old as she is is no doubt because Pernilla August is awesome and you can't not hire her when that's an option, but nothing else in this show is a coincidence and done without thought, so I refuse to believe that Kristina hasn't always been meant to be an older mom.

Maybe she had fertility issues. Maybe she for whatever reason didn't want kids and put it off for as long as she could. She's certainly not maternal. Unlike every other woman her generation, no one ever expected her to be maternal. That's not her job.

Quite the opposite. Kristina is old enough to have been raised at a time when royal mothers weren't expected to have any hand in raising their children except for approving (or rather disapproving chosen) nannies and playmates and tutors and the like. She was very likely the first female heir apparent, or maybe she was simply the heir because she had no (male) siblings. Either way her job was always to be a monarch, not a woman or a mother. That's what staff is for. That's not an excuse, but it does explain her as a character.

She was groomed and forced herself to adjust (I do believe forced is the right word, because unlike Erik she seems to (have) be(en) a lot more like Wille than she'd like to admit). She had to be strong and queen and represent Sweden. And then her son and heir died and she failed at both.

I do believe Erik was always the 'easier' child, doing what he was told and taking only the freedoms he knew he'd be granted, while Wille is willful, argues, has a temper and his own head. (that doesn't mean Erik was happier or better adjusted)

And now Erik is dead and Wille has to fit the mold. Wille who got to go to a normal school and clubbing and was let to run wild with little preparation for the role he'd someday have to support his brother with. Arguments can be made that Kristina and everyone else never cared about Wille until they needed him, but I'd like to think she meant well and gave him the freedom she could, and because she is a bad parent she thought she was being kind, and because she is queen no one told her otherwise until it became a problem.

Kristina has never been a good parent, and I honestly believe saying someone meant well is an insult and not an excuse, but I do believe she tried the best with what she knew, the best she could.

It wasn't enough, it was the opposite of enough, but she tried and her breakdown is not a weakness but something which was a long time in coming.

She's not maternal. Her job wasn't to be maternal. Her job is to be a mascot and have other people make sure the next mascot is fed and watered and able to perform. Her being too brainwashed to see how horrifying that is does not make her innocent or any less of a bad mother, but why would she think of acting any other way?

She's ashamed of her breakdown. She can't be weak. Not in front of the nation and not in front of her son and heir. Wille can learn and grow and change. Everyone can and it's never too late, but Kristina here is meant to be what Wille risks becoming if he doesn't, if he gives up and becomes a thoughtless mascot.

Kristina is not a victim and I can't forgive her for being a shit mom, but she's also not the devil. She's a mother who lost her child, and she's spent her whole life being told that the worst thing she can do is to appear weak.

Well guess what? At one point that simply doesn't work anymore.

This post by the lovely @voldiebeth is what motivated me to write a similar one. I originally planned on reblogging and merely adding my own thoughts, and I did talk to her before posting, but then it became something even more personal than originally planned, and considering the difficulty of the subject I found myself more comfortable making this a standalone post. I know that's not proper tumblr etiquette, but please bear with me. Many thanks to @voldiebeth for motivating me to put my convoluted thoughts and feelings in writing and order them a bit. It was very cathartic.

[millerscoffee]

the soft animal of your body

812 drabble | joel miller x reader

rating: G

warnings: fluff!, established relationship.  no use of y/n.

summary: you were working on a hobby, but got distracted by joel's cheeks.

A/N: inspired by this post he truly is pookie. look at those cheeks! inspired by "wild geese" by mary oliver, too. joely baby let the soft animal of ur body love what it loves, luv x. i vaguely proofread this, soz.

"You're lookin' at me," Joel's eyes were closed on when he laid down on the couch to 'rest his eyes' while you sat on the floor beside him. You were supposed to be working on a new hobby, cross stitching. However, you ended up gazing up at your partner more than anything else.

"I can't help it," a grin in your voice, you sat up on your knees to lean over and press your lips to the soft rebound of his cheeks. "You just keepin' these all to yourself, I want to bite them."

You made Joel laugh. A sound that felt like air-bound gold every time it happened, and it was a catalyst that made his eyes open to search for your own. "I'm just keepin' these to myself?" He asked as if he didn't hear you correctly, but you knew he did. He always repeated things back to you when it was something he found sweet or silly, or innately you. His fingers fan through your hair before thumbing over your chin. "Alright, go on then."

It took a long time, a lot of therapy, for him to open up to you like this. To be allow himself to be mushy, and furthermore allow himself to experience love. Your love. You had so much to give to him.

And you didn't waste a moment when he gave you the green light. Your arms crossed over one of his shoulders, using it to lean on as you brushed and pecked the suppleness of his skin. The stubble that adorned his cheeks down to the grey at his jaw. Peppered kisses on the skin around the wrinkle of his eye.

"You havin' fun?" Joel asked playfully, the eye that was being kissed shutting.

"I am, actually. I could make a living doing this."

"Kinda do. I just agreed on my cheeks, said nothin' bout my eyes."

"Too bad," you giggled, nose tipping against his temple, the scent of his shampoo relaxed your shoulders. And it seemed to do the same to him, relaxed even more into the couch when he nestled his head into the armrest.

"Baby, just c'mere." He beckoned you, opening his arm out for you to take it. You used it then, climbing on top of Joel to stretch out on top of him. You felt so loved, special that you got to witness his softness. His fingers found the hem of your shirt and swirled light patterns from the guitar-induced calloused tips. It tickled, but you weren't willing to stop him. You needed to feel him as much as he needed to feel you. Two tactile individuals at the end of the day.

So you laid on top of him, the softness of your lips skimmed against the taut skin of his neck. The freckles that resided there. There were countless days and nights you spent pressing your lips to those spots. To count them mentally.

"You keep kissin' everywhere but my cheeks, darlin'."

"Maybe if you were less kissable I wouldn't have this problem. You see my dilemma."

That earned an exhale through his nose, filtered through his moustache. "Yeah, I reckon," honey drawled through the syllables, "I guess I should consider myself lucky. Got so much restraint."

"Now you're gettin' it," you hummed, teeth nipping at the base of his earlobe.

"Easy."

"Or what?" Your threat was quickly replaced with sweet kisses to his cheek again. Not really ready to break up the tenderness of the moment. "Nice cheeks," you replaced your words with praises before he could get to you.

"Grew 'em myself." His arms wrapped around your waist to hold you in place, to keep you close. To give every indication that he wanted this too, in the ways he knew how.

"You want anything?" Joel asked, pulling away to get a good look at you with his eyes that had vision all too blurry to be this close to you. Part of you wondered if it was because he didn't know what to do next. Never one with words, quality time had the tendency to make him anxious. Like he had all this nervous energy that disallowed himself to just be. To just exist in the present moment on the couch with a sewing tomato abandoned on the floor.

You would always come back to him no matter what you were doing.

You sat up just enough on your forearms to push his hair back as if to say, you're doing so good. As if to shout, you are letting the softness of your body do what it wants and I'm so proud of you. As if to cry, you do not need to do or be anything for me to love you. You are enough as is. And nothing, absolutely nothing could ever be better than this.

"Just this, Joel. Just you."

taglist: @cool-iguana

[lasiocampa--quercus]

For all those stuck in 2019...

I have been very reluctant to share any art / writing for — oof, five years. First because it was plain awful, then because it was not good enough. It still isn't, but as the years passed I got increasingly lonely on other social media, so this is my last resort. After I've failed smashingly here, well, I guess I'll just have to stop trying altogether.

Anyway, a first time for everything. So here's one for you.

[Detail. Scroll down (I mean to say, read the whole post) to see the full artwork]

We don't choose what we love, now, do we?

For five years I've been desperately in love with the idea of putting two brilliant characters — Eggsy from Kingsman (2015, 2017) and David from Bodyguard (2018) — into the context where they could meaningfully interact and explore one another's worlds. Such a context has been established (it is not the subject of the current post but I'd be willing to tell all about it later), resulting in their taking a shine to each other almost immediately. For Eggsy this acquaintance was something excitingly in between the two class extremes he was most accustomed to, sabotaging his life-long distaste for having anything to do with coppers. For David it was a breath of fresh air. He'd been two years well into therapy after the events covered in the series, and he was still struggling to get back on track when he met Eggsy, arch and lively, and at the same time so dashingly insightful as he was. Somehow it felt like they'd known each other for years as they talked throughout afternoons and after-work hours over a pint of lager somewhere in North London. David, usually rather inhibited, smiled and laughed at Eggsy's jokes, charmed by his candour and straightforwardness, taken aback by his astute remarks often delivered in a childlike unassuming manner. To be sure, he'd never met anyone quite like him. The prospect of friendship was an enticing one despite all their differences and despite the pressures of their jobs. While at first one was suspicious of the other's occupation (David, of course, more suspicious than Eggsy, being inherently averse to secrecy of any kind), they soon grew to respect the boundaries imposed by respective lines of duty (David was inclined to believe Eggsy's agency couldn't be that bad seeing as it employed such a brilliant lad). In effect, Eggsy trusted him more than he could ever trust any of his old mates and occasionally slipped into the conversation uncanny details of his field experiences. But best of all he liked exchanging ideas, relaying to David something that Harry had told — or taught — him, expounding on his reflections that were philosophical or even biblical in essence, although he couldn't ever say whom he unwittingly quoted. David would recognise a concept or two, but he never abashed him by mentioning the fellow's name. Over time the content of their communion had got more intimate, insomuch that Eggsy took to dedicating a huge chunk of time to moaning about his relationship with Harry which had gone on for quite a while after he split up with Tilde.

One such time, fuelled by a considerable amount of drinks, Eggsy set to illustrate the supposed reasons for Harry's recent aloofness. He clamorously hurled his jeerings and complaints at David, impinging on much-cherished privacy of the pub tables. Before it started to wear on virtually everybody in their proximity, David took his noisy, fairly plastered companion outside for a breather. The cool evening air didn't seem to have the desired effect of sobering him up a bit as Eggsy nearly blacked out after a brief (but crucial) exchange between himself and David. That occurrence prompted David to call a cab and take him to his place to recuperate. He reasoned it would not be wise to let him dart off home to Harry in such a flustered state, for it appeared as if the conflict between them was merely an ember, or rather, a heap of embers waiting to be stirred. From then on David's conduct was laced with strange acts of gracious benevolence, such as taking Eggsy's trainers off before laying him down, sleepy and a tad confused, on his sofa and leaving the keys to his flat for when he woke up and presumably wished to go home, with little trim notes strewn around telling about it, as well as where to look for aspirin if his head was giving him a hard time after the other night's drunken debauchery. At the time David didn't question his actions, although they clearly ran counter to his long-conditioned circumspection and, to a lesser extent, his vague views on male intimacy. If anything, the day when he, trying not to disturb Eggsy's healing sleep, snuck away for work he couldn't shake off a quaint feeling of invigoration which seemed to permeate his otherwise dull routine of desk duty. Later that day, confident that Eggsy had left, he got back to a startle in the form of his coyly looking, supper-serving friend with unkempt hair and a crumpled white T-shirt. Eggsy stayed not only to defer having to face Harry, but to show gratitude for David's kindness the best way he knew — by doing a kindness in return. He furnished their dinner table with a bottle of wine, promising to go easy on it and proposing a toast to David's general gemness. There they were, having another quiet night of good conversation, the homely setting and their tipsiness conducing to even more warmth and unrestraint, when Eggsy accidentally tipped over his half-emptied glass and stained his T-shirt. If one could ever be sure of such things, one would say that exact moment was the point of no return, the moment of truth. A simple, ordinary incident that tore down a facade with the light tinkle of glass as it touched the floor. From lighthearted jocularity Eggsy went on to unbosom his brooding insecurity. The change in his disposition was so thunderboltingly sudden it made David somewhat uncomfortable. It made Eggsy uncomfortable too. The only suitable course of action suggested they should comfort each other, so Eggsy placed his hand in David's. A bashful kiss ensued. Once it was reciprocated, little smiles creased their flushed faces. Both hardly had an opportunity to process what was happening, but it somehow felt ridiculously, madly right. And peaceful, too.

Well, now that all the heavy lifting is done by that snippet above we can sit back and (hopefully) enjoy this little picture depicting David and Eggsy decently progressed in their ‘comforting each other’. I must point out, however, that what you've just (hopefully) read is really only a summary, a squeeze if you will, of what transpired, produced specifically for purpose of acquainting you with the context. In actual fact the story is teeming with dialogue and detail which, with your kind permission, I would like to show you some other time.

[hippolotamus]

Who would I be if I didn't come barreling in with queer feelings??? Inspired by this post from my wife @bidisasterevankinard, this morning's therapy session and a few too many listens to Cleopatra by The Lumineers 😘

late for this, late for that | 7x06 coda | 757 words | G

“Not late. Right on time,” Evan sighs, content and sated, turning in his arms so they’re back-to-chest. It allows him to settle into his newly discovered love of being the little spoon. And Tommy’s new found love of indulging Evan.

“Good to know.” He presses a kiss into Evan’s mussed, disheveled curls, chuckling at the light snores his – boyfriend? Date? Guy he’s seeing? – is already making. 

If he’s being honest, ‘right on time’ is the furthest thing from what he feels. Evan hasn’t said as much, but Tommy suspects he’s started to question things about himself. About his life in general, past interactions, romances, friendships, crushes. Eventually he’ll likely face one of the biggest, if not the biggest, questions. How could I not know? 

As someone who went on a similar journey, he’ll do his best to guide Evan through. He wants to wave the proverbial magic wand to produce easy, matter-of-fact answers and soothe any wounds, but Evan will have to do that part on his own. Eventually it becomes a rewarding experience, making those discoveries, but he knows as well as anyone that it can be a bitch of a road to travel. An often dark pathway loaded with unexpected landmines. Full of monsters that go ‘boo’ at the very worst times, usually just when the dust of the last jumpscare has settled. 

Not for the first time – and likely not for the last – the notion makes Tommy wish they could have met earlier. That he could somehow turn back the clock to meet himself earlier so he could be there for Evan. He’s already put himself through the wringer, in therapy and in his own mental torture chamber, about why he lied for so long about who he is. But, as his therapist reminds him over and over again, these things are never truly done. There are often new layers unveiled, triggered by different circumstances. Sometimes big and loud, sometimes ordinary and everyday. Tommy thinks Evan might be a bit of both. 

Either way, here he is, wondering how his own life might have been different if he hadn’t denied himself for so long. If he could have been brave like Hen and said ‘this is who I am’. Because it’s not as if he didn’t know. Tommy knew exactly who he was, who he is. He’s known since the first time he kissed CJ, his high school football team’s defensive tackle, behind the bleachers after practice one late summer night. God knows he had been questioning for a hell of a lot longer. 

However, he can’t time travel and change things. He can’t give past versions of himself options that didn’t exist. Well, technically they did, but it meant blowing up his entire life and being ostracized. While Hen didn’t have anything to lose, because she was already being isolated by that era of the 118, Tommy did. 

He had what he thought were friends, though, really, most of them were alliances. People he accepted as friends for the high cost of burying his identity. Paid for with girlfriends and the occasional male sex worker when he really needed to let go. With living an empty, lonely, fraudulent existence, constantly saying no to the things and experiences he craved. Because saying yes - to ‘just one’ gay club, one pride event, one secret boyfriend willing to be called girlfriend for appearances - meant risking being found out. Meant taking a wrecking ball to the carefully curated macho persona he’d built for protection. Meant having all of his ‘meaningful’ supports and relationships ripped away. It was bad enough that his own parents couldn’t be there for him. He didn’t need the camaraderie of firefighting taken away, too. 

Evan snorts and snuffles, pulling Tommy back to the present. He turns in his sleep, somehow burrowing closer as he throws an arm across Tommy’s waist. His mouth is slack and parted, breathing calm and even. 

A wave of fondness washes over Tommy as he watches his… Evan sleep, blissfully unaware of all the things tumbling around in his brain. It’s an emotion he hasn’t felt in a while, not like this, but he’s grateful for how naturally it seems to want to return. 

Maybe they couldn’t meet earlier or change their histories, save themselves or each other from pain. But they’re here now with their combined battle scars, ready for something, whatever that looks like. And isn’t that better than never? So, perhaps what Evan said was true. Maybe he’s not too late and they’re right on time. 

part 2 (Eddie's POV) here