#such as ''i don't think anyone's Less a person than myself (why not stop here) b/c i think anyone Has Love''

[unproduciblesmackdown]

why is reassurance about omnipresent omnipotent Love needed like. it's love(tm) has there not Been that assurance & affirmation all over the place all thee time. "but all the hate in the world...see what it does..." does that even mean "hate" or does that mean "people feeling entitled to a superior status ft. its intrinsically promised superior power" like re: the limitations of "hate crimes" meaning there's a need to "prove" "hate" in the "intent." where do we see Love as this guaranteed antithesis to a systemically granted entitlement to power to constrain someone's life. parents loving their children, And Yet. partners loving their partners And Yet. friends loving friends never stopped there from being disasters in how people are treated in that sphere. versus: people giving the most essential support to people they have no personal connection to, no direct connection to, no basis for having particular feelings about them one way or another beyond knowing they're also people in a vulnerable situation. people flourishing by themself. people learning how to relate to themself positively In Spite Of the Love they've experienced. how actions, interactions, relations are guided by principles that are not contingent on the affective, re: Feelings, but on externally evident contexts and patterns and consequences. what of it if you're Hated by someone whose ability to manifest that or not has no control over you still living your life b/c nobody's entitled to someone feeling a certain way towards them but someone feeling a certain way towards someone doesn't entitle them to enforcing a status of Less on them in any way either. why's something Internal have to be considered universal. why's anything have to be considered universal, as though if there's anything that doesn't apply to absolutely anyone then those outside that might be Less in some "legitimate" way. there's that: you're a person and they're a person, and who are you to consider yourself More of a person than them, and who are they to consider themself More of a person than you. "this too is Love" what if it isn't

is any idea of Love challenged by potentially Not subsuming more precise, nuanced, granular, complex, perhaps incongruous concepts into one vague assertion. what of recognition. acknowledgment. respect, care, intimacy, collaboration, accompaniment, without fundamentally necessitating particular emotions, status, even particulars of relationships. "relationships" in the sense of how does xyz affect abc & vice versa: relationality. "if you want or enjoy anything: love" how about everyone's experience of their interiority is their own. why is it important for you to believe a particular commonality must be at play. "if you don't believe in eternal torment of your damned soul what's stopping you from killing everyone rn" = "if you don't believe in Doing Bad Things Feels Bad what's stopping you from Doing Bad Things rn" = "if you're guided by the Good Feeling Love you'll be Doing Good Things" like, will you. when people instead attach any concept of Love to more fundamental concepts of respect for everyone else as equals to oneself and what actions and principles support others then it's like i mean yeah sure same diff in this case. when it's about how something that originates as a personal interior experience is a claim over any/everyone else's? whyme (rhymes with "rhyme"). versus anything that may be considered Universal being something that also does not necessarily stem from or is not contained within any particular self. universe is universal? everything affecting the existence of everything else? doesn't start or stop in any particular person's experience as themself, the way their thoughts and feelings can. i can't think of any of the like Concepts Ideals Principles Beliefs etc i would have that i'd describe as "love." and what of it. works fine for anyone who does so long as that Love is not something that must be Universally Human(tm) or where any willingness to consider some idea synonymous / overlapping / relevant does not just so happen to require "so you still really mean Love :)" like as though a christian universalist was still gonna have to always be telling people how jesus is everywhere & all good things are jesus, vice versa. like if you think everyone will be reconciled with christian god in the end then why do you need to push it. if everything is Love & Love is behind anything that helps anyone then what is there to convince oneself or anyone else of. what is there even to talk about. versus if i were to find/replace "love" with "politics" in that sentence & then in any instance there would be plenty to talk about lmao b/c it would have to do with any specifics about the situation & any events/actions/external matters that could be relevant. the actual Reality of your Real Feelings start & end with you even as they also play into how your existence affects others' existence. gotta believe everyone else is feeling Love? okay, that would still be their own business lol. & what if they weren't. say love is everywhere & that's the answer: well no it isn't b/c we can discern what goes on in the everywherelove world. so anyways: what could we do regardless? feeling more love is self-contained i.e. your personal business. what of any/everyone else. die cry hate. love loses. recognition regardless of the emotions happening. being loveless. being despised. those who go "so anyways"

[comicaurora]

So uhh. If you feel like talking about it. As someone who lives in the US, how are you being kind to yourself on this upsetting morning <3

Checked in with my loved ones first and foremost.

It's interesting. The vibe I've been getting from my circle is very different from 2016. Much less… dread and horror at a realignment of the understanding of what can and can't happen here, now, in this place and day and age. More "fuck, guys. again? whatever. enjoy your consequences, maybe you'll manage to learn something this time."

Frustration and anger is not the most positive feeling, or even the most fair one to express, but it is a protective one. It hurts a lot less than most alternatives.

And it's quite a shift. It was earthshattering back then. How could this have been allowed to happen? Why couldn't it be stopped? Why couldn't we stop it? Why couldn't I stop it? Why couldn't everyone see what this meant? Why couldn't I make them understand? Did they really not care? What did that mean about humanity as a whole? Were we so thoughtless? How could anyone be trusted?

It seems… much less earthshattering to see it happen twice. Disappointing, sure. Frustrating. But nowhere near as devastating as the first time I saw it unfold. We already knew it could happen. I've already had time to digest the implications. Now I'm just freshly disappointed.

It also feels less indicative of Crushing Truths Of Reality this time. We've seen shit get bad. We've also seen shit get better from here! We know both outcomes are possible, even inevitable. We know hoping for a better future is always worthwhile. This isn't the apocalypse. It's an unremarkably bad turn of events brought on by unremarkably self-centered well-documented human impulses. It's utterly mundane in its unpleasantness. It doesn't need to be dignified with despair.

A democratic election, no matter the outcome or the side we're on, makes us all acutely aware of how outnumbered we are by people whose worldviews and priorities are demonstrably incomprehensible to us. And the first time you get outnumbered, it's a shock. Defeat is haunting. It didn't matter how badly you wanted it; by the very function of democracy, you do not have the power to override greater numbers. (insert electoral college caveat here)

The second time through, I find myself focusing on a different facet that has dramatically reduced the amount of spiralling I'm doing. I don't expect this to work for everyone, but for me specifically, it helped to crystallize a few thoughts:

You don't have the power to control anyone else. You don't. You can't share your worldview and your revelations with them. You can't make them think or understand anything. You can lay it all out for them, but you can't make them listen, and you can't make it click. A mentor can't make their student learn a lesson; that's why teaching is so complicated and hard. An active choice must be made by the person to enable themselves to understand, and they must put the pieces together in their own mind before it makes sense to them, and the pieces must have been presented in a way that makes sense to them in the first place. Lead a horse to water, can't make them drink.

These elections highlight a disconnect in what different groups of people care about; and no matter how clearly you explain yourself or how passionately you perform, caring cannot be forced on someone. Understanding and connection cannot be forced. You cannot make anything or anyone matter to someone. They have to choose to see how it matters in order to internalize it. If they choose not to, that is not your failing. You couldn't have made them do it by just Explaining Better. They are not your responsibility. They make their own choices. You can't reach inside their head and connect the dots for them.

I'm a storyteller. I make stories and put them out into the world. I hope people get something good out of them, but I have no control over what that something is. I want people to be thoughtful and kind and compassionate and hopeful and see themselves reflected in stranges, no matter their differences. I can craft stories that I hope encourage this. But that is the extent of my ability and the extent of my responsibility. I control no-one's actions but my own, and so while I am not having the best day, I am at least content that I am doing what I can, and I am not shattering myself against impossibilities trying to control the things I can't.

Sometimes, people make decisions that I think are really bad. I can't make that not happen. All I can do is try to make decisions that will result in things I think are good. Today, that means checking in on people, and not assigning too much dramatic narrative weight to an ultimately mundane set of unremarkable bad decisions outside of my control. We'll take life as it comes and help each other out when and how we can. Everything else is out of our hands.

[chocoqtelle]

inner child pac reading

🦀 pile one,,

I know we're used to being super helpful, but it's good to help yourself too. you should always make sure you're okay first. It's important for us to be okay, even if other people don't think so. we should think so. things are gonna be okay for us. they always are. I want to do the things we like. I don't understand why you care about what people think now. I think we should try doing what we like more, even if it's embarrassing. it doesn't have to take a lot of time. it's just good to have fun sometimes. maybe you can get back into some of our old interests if you want?

it seems like this pile had to mature quickly and was overly generous in childhood. this likely led to some people pleaser habits. when the world said "be nice" and "care about others" you took it to heart, but it felt like you were the only one who did. you felt like you had to be the adult in your childhood and care for other people around you. for some of you, you may have had to care for a parental/older familiar figure or your siblings. you're used to changing your words and your personality to be more digestible and gentle because this strong fear of conflict. you were scared of people being mean to you, so you avoided making anyone mad. it was like you were always tiptoeing over eggshells. now, you don't have to, so there's no point in worrying about people who don't worry about you. you'd be doing yourself and your inner child a favor by doing what you want. it might feel wrong to be yourself, but at least try. I won't delve too much into this part, but I believe some people in this pile also dealt with being oversexualized or being hyper sexual at a young age. I think it's important to know you're more than what you can give others for this pile. please also take a break for the love of god.

🐸 pile two,,

It's hard to feel loved if nobody shows you. at the same time, i don't think I'd want to be loved. it seems weird and uncomfortable. I'm not used to it so it's scary. I still wish that someone would care at least. it feels like nobody else cares. I'm really tired of things being silent and boring all the time. I want to do something fun. I want friends but I want to be by myself. people think I'm weird, but I think they're the weird ones. they can avoid me but I wouldn't wanna be friends with them anyway. it doesn't matter if it's lonely, I don't feel less lonely around people anyway. some people think I'm mean. I don't think I'm mean. i heard I look mean or I act mean sometimes, but what if that's just who I am? I don't try to be mean to people. I just don't want people to hurt me.

holy neglect trauma... there's a lot to unpack here 😓 first off, I hope you're alright. it seems like this pile never really learned how to interact with people and is probably still a bit of a people hater. this pile has had to keep strong boundaries and walls on to protect themselves from unfamiliar experiences (being spoken to positively.) if you've never experienced something, it can be scary but you have to stop thinking every little thing is gonna go wrong in your life. it's fine. separate note but I think someone's ancestors are very present here, might want to connect with them if you don't already. you can try to shut down the feelings of loneliness and pretend connection won't help but it does. you're probably not connected with your inner child or you're ashamed of yourself for some reason. trying to be cold won't undo anything or save you from the feelings you're hiding. you'll have to acknowledge them at some point. escapism and forcing ignorance wont help forever. hopefully it'll be sooner than later, but that's your choice. it's okay to be soft, btw.

🐕 pile three,,

I know what I'm talking about. I'm serious. I wish people would take me more seriously. i get good grades, I study hard, I always prove how smart I am. for some reason, people still act like I'm too young and stupid to have opinions or that what I say is just silly, especially with emotions. they act like having emotions makes you a less rational person. some people look down on me for who I am, too. it's not something I can change. whether it's gender, age, or whatever, people always want an excuse to ignore how I feel or what I have to say. I know I'm right though. I don't want us to stop expressing ourselves. I wanna share how I feel to the world.

this pile is extremely opinionated and knows how to share their emotions. this pile is for the "bossy" kids who "should have been lawyers" or "a CEO" according to every adult around them. you were emotional as a child and it was always ignored or joked off as if your feelings were invalid. this pile is definitely natural-born leaders so if you aren't/never have been aspiration-driven or "extra" this pile probably isn't yours. the most healing thing you can do for yourself at this point is speak up. continue to speak about everything. share your opinion more, it's safe now and people will actually take you seriously. be emotional, be too much, be annoying, be talkative, be over-opinionated, be everything you feel like being and don't let anyone talk you out of it. lead your life how you want to. call everything out, even if it means being weird. I definitely feel like some people in this pile had the gifted kid experience or liked to read a lot when they were younger. there's also some unresolved anger that might need to be taken care of. I think speaking up more instead of bottling feelings up will definitely help that, though. you're not stupid or weak for being emotional. just be yourself unapologetically and that's the best thing you can do for your younger self.

[jaskierx]

anyway posting some thoughts from the discord about how many 'irl relationship' things they're dealing with in ep7 and how much i am eating my mattress about it

they rushed into sex and ed regrets it and that doesn't stop it from having been consensual and fun but the fact that it was consensual and fun doesn't mean that it was a good idea

ed feeling like he can't watch stede make the same mistakes he did but also feeling like he can't ask stede to leave piracy for him when stede is just getting started. and ultimately he's too scared to ask stede to leave piracy for him because what if stede says no? what if stede looks him in the eyes and confirms yes, you are unloveable, yes i'm choosing piracy over you, no i don't love you enough, why would you ever think i could love you enough to do this for you?

just the overall turmoil of being at a different life stage to your partner - like the difficulty of when you're at the beginning of your career and they're established in theirs, or when you've had lots of relationships and they've only had you, or when you're ready to settle down and have kids but they're not, and nobody is in the wrong, it's just difficult

making a breakup about a completely unrelated issue bc you can't voice the actual problem. twisting it into 'we're fundamentally incompatible' (fishermen and pirates are completely different) so you can convince yourself it's not because you're not good enough. if you hit self destruct and leave without explaining things maybe it'll be less painful than opening up about what's actually wrong only to have them throw it back at you and leave you anyway. maybe if i pretend it was never going to work out i don't need to think about why it stopped working in the first place

stede still feeling like he's not good enough for ed and trying to change himself to make himself feel more worthy. unable to comprehend that anyone could possibly love someone so soft and inadequate. feeling like he doesn't even want ed to like him for who he is, feeling insecure that ed only likes him bc he's weak, feeling like he needs to toughen up to earn ed's love. the eternal worry of 'my partner is the best person in the world and i am just a worm so why are they here, why are they staying with me, what's their motive, what can i do to change myself so they actually want to stay for me and not for whatever reason they've got going on'

basically these 18th century gay pirates are experiencing every problem you've ever had with a partner and they're gonna be fine and so are you i love you

[fanfictiongirlie]

Marvel: Unplanned Chapter One

Parings: Bucky Barnes x Reader (First person written though)

Description:

"It says...it says it's positive doll" His voice matching mine in a quiet shaky whisper.

"Fuck... I'm pregnant?"

"Yeah doll, you're pregnant"

"Fuck" I whisper.

Rating: Explicit

Chapter Warnings: Smut, Name calling, Two fools arguing, somewhat public smut

Chapter Words: 2,727

(I have the urge for every Marvel fanfic I write to have a seperate timeline where nothing bad happens, and everyone is happy)

Bucky stood in the kitchen shirtless, I swore quietly to myself as I stopped at the doorway, it was 2am, I hadn't expected anyone to be awake, but of course, he was. I had been an Avenger for a little while, my skills with in hand to hand combat matched Nat's, I was also very skilled in using a rifle. And being Nat's best friend, she got me a place on the Avengers, whilst also getting Tony to let me live at the compound. Which was a nice change, I lived in England my whole life, so being in a new country was scary, but Nat made it less scary for me. I got along with everyone, except Bucky. It had been near a year, and we hated each other... Which sucked, because he was so hot, I hated myself for thinking that... 

I sighed and walked fully into the kitchen, he turned around facing me. 

"What do you want?" He asks, his voice low and annoyed. 

"Nothing from you" I mumble walking to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water. His eyes were still on me. 

"Then what are you doing up?" He asks, his eyes rolling. 

"None of your business" I mutter. I should of just left, gone back to my room, but arguing with him, it was additive. He steps closer to me, still an arms length away from me, but close enough that I could smell his cologne. 

"It's my business if you're prowling around this place at the dead of night" He answers, his arms crossed over his chest, I rolled my eyes, I knew he liked arguing with me too, that's why our arguing was usually over stupid things. 

"Says you" I snapped "You're doing the same thing" 

I watch as Bucky raises an eyebrow, I put my bottle of water down on the kitchen counter and step closer to him, challenging him.

"I live here doll, I can do what I want" 

"So do I!" I yell.

"Watch how you're talking to me doll" He scoffs, his eyes narrowing at me. 

"Why should I" I answer stepping closer to him, I crossed my arms copying his stance, our arms brushed against one anothers. Bucky tilts his head, he moved closer, his arms pressing against mine. 

"Because I don't have the patience for you right now" He says, his voice a low rumble, almost a growl. 

"You think I have a patience for your bullshit?" I snap back. I watch as a ghost of a smile flickers on his face as he lets out a quiet scoff. 

"You're the one who started this! Be careful who you pick a fight with doll"

"Me?" I hissed "I didn't fucking start this, god you're always so ready to yell at me"

Bucky clenches his jaw, his nostrils flare, he looked extremely pissed off at me now. Good.

"You're always on my case! You just won't shut up, will you? Just have to make a comment about anything I say" He towers over me, making him look more intimidating, but so fucking sexy. 

"Fuck" I say laughing slightly "I think you're enjoying arguing with me, you know, so fucking annoying" I hiss, trying not to eye his muscles. Bucky let out a laugh, that arrogant smirk coming back. 

"You're the annoying one, always sticking your nose in my business, and trying to get on my last nerve" His gaze travels down my body as he spoke. "God you're pissing me off"

"You're pissing me off!" I snap. 

He steps forward, pushing against my body, I sneer as my back hits the kitchen counter. 

"Oh yeah? You've got a lot of guts for a girl who's half a feet shorter than me" He laughs, his body pressed against mine as he looks down to me. 

"Doesn't matter, I can still fucking pin you" I snap, I could pin him, and I have done. 

"Oh yeah sweetheart? I doubt it" He answers with a huff. 

"What you gonna do Bucky? You've got me pinned, gonna hit me?" I taunt him, he usually walks away when I taunt him, daring him to snap, he never does. I watch as he leans down slightly, his breath hot on my face. 

"Don't tempt me doll" He says low and deep. 

"Fucking do it" I dared, my voice barely above a whisper. 

He leans his face closer to mine, his eyes darkened with lust and anger "You really want me to? You really wanna know what I'll do?"

"Fucking nothing I bet" 

"You think I won't? You think I can't put your smart mouth in place?"

"No I don't think you will, Stevie isn't here to stop you, so come on Barnes, what's gonna be?" I laugh slightly, my voice deep as I spoke. I watched as Bucky's eyes darkened even more at the mention of his best friend, Steve was always breaking up our fights, not this time... 

"You think Steve's the only thing holding me back from arguing with you?" He asks. 

"Yeah I do, you always do as you're told when he's around" I smirk. 

Bucky huffs through his nose "Always doing as told? Doll, you're really pissing me off, you think you know me?" He lowers his voice into a growl, almost a whisper as he looks right into my eyes. "You think I don't have a mind of my own?"

"I don't know, do you?" I snapped, my eyes not looking from his, I hated his eyes, his perfect, Ice blue, lovely eyes... Ugh, I shook the thoughts from my head. 

"You're really playing with fire here doll...You better watch your smartass mouth, before I shut you up myself" 

"Fucking do it then" I snapped. He stares at me for a few seconds, a mixture of anger, lust and annoyance in his eyes. And then suddenly his lips slam onto mine, his body crushing me against the counter, the kiss was rough and hard, almost dominating. 

Shocked I don't move for a second, before I close my eyes and kiss back. Bucky's hands grip onto my hips, holding me hard, his tongue licking into my mouth, exploring me, a low moan escapees his throat as he deepens the kiss, his body pressing against mine, his hips moving pathetically against mine. 

I kiss back harshly, my hands moving to his shoulders, my nails digging into his skin. I hear him groan, his hands move from my hips to my thighs, he picks me up with ease, sitting me down on the counter, he steps closer standing in between my thighs, his hard length pressing against my leg, his flesh hand moves up to my throat holding me as he moves his lips away from mine. 

"Doll, you know just how to piss me off, don't you?" He growls, his hand holding my throat tightly. 

"Says you, you fucking piss me off" 

His eyes darken at my words, his hips moved, pressing his hard length into me, his hand tightens around my throat, I gasped a little for air, but it felt good. 

"You know, I could just take what I want from you, just shut you up right here, right now" He growls, looking over my features. 

"Fucking do it, take me" I whisper. 

He growls again, I wanted to make a comment about him being an animal, but I decided against it. He moves both hands down to my hips holding me hard, he moved forward nipping at my neck. "You want me to take you, huh?"

"Fucking yes, before I change my mind" I gasp, taking in a large breath now his hand was away from my throat. A low moan escapes his throat and he kisses my neck frantically, sucking rough marks into my skin. 

"You think you can change your mind doll? You challenged me, and I'm gonna make sure you don't forget who's in charge here" He speaks in between bites. 

"If you don't kiss me in the next 5 seconds, I'll leave, maybe ask Stevie to make me feel good" I teased, my voice dark and low, I knew that would piss him off. 

He stops kissing my neck and looks at me, his eyes full of jealousy "You wouldn't dare" Then he slams his lips against mine again, his tongue pushing past my lips exploring my mouth. I moved my hips against his, being on the kitchen counter perfectly lining me up with his hips. I spread my legs and wrap them around him, pulling him closer to me. 

Bucky lets out a stifled moan, his lips leaving mine and running down my neck. 

"God, you don't know what you do to me" He says, nibbling at my neck, his hips grinding against me, through my thing pyjama bottoms. 

"Yeah I do, I can feel how pathetically hard you are against me" I smirked, my head rolling back as his lips touching my collarbone. 

He growls taking my throat in his metal hand, he moved my head so I looked at him. 

"Pathetically? I'll give you pathetic" He growls, his flesh hand snakes from my hip and to the waistband of my pyjamas, tugging on them, he stops for a second, his eyes on mine, silently asking for permission. I nod, my cheeks flushing. He moves his hand away from my throat, and move them to pull my pyjama bottoms down, he threw them somewhere, his eyes were still on me whilst his fingers brushed over my inner thigh, his fingers were rough, calloused leaving tingles as he traced my skin. 

Now naked from the waist down, I shivered at the cold air, I moved forward capturing his lips again, Bucky moans softly against my lips, his fingers moved to my clit, slowly circling his fingers a few times, before he took two fingers and slid them down, parting my lips and dipping down to my hole. 

"Fuck, yes" I whispered against his lips, he swallowed my moan, his tongue licking mine, he spread my wetness over my pussy, his two fingers entering me slowly. I moaned breathlessly enjoying the warmth of his flesh fingers, a small part of me thinking about his metal fingers, and how they would feel inside of me. 

"You're all hot and bothered for me, aren't you doll?" 

"Watch it, I'll happily walk away" I hiss, lying through my teeth of course, but he didn't need to know that. His metal hand moved holding my jaw within in his fingers. 

"And I'll drag you right back here doll, you're not going anywhere" 

"Fuck me, dickhead" I sneered, his fingers fucking into me, spreading me open, I needed him. His fingers still fucked into me, whilst his metal hand moved from my jaw to his jeans, undoing them, I reached forward and undid them for him, reaching my arms to push them down, his cock sprung from his boxers as I pushed them down. 

I gasped slightly at the sight of his cock, it was beautiful, it annoyed me how beautiful, cocks weren't supposed to be pretty, but here he was. I muttered a fuck under my breath. 

"Careful how you speak to me, I could bend you over this counter and make you shut your mouth real fast" He says, leaning forward, his hot breath on my ear as he speaks. 

"Yeah?" I whisper "Do it? Please?"

Bucky bites my ear, his voice lowering to a deep rumble "Say please again" 

"Please?" I say, gritting my teeth. He grips my thigh with his metal hand, his fingers slowing inside of me. 

"Such a good girl, asking so nicely" He laughs, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He takes his fingers out of my pussy, I whine at the emptiness, he then grabs my hips pulling me off the kitchen counter, he turns me around and bends me over the counter, he lets out a low growl and pushes his cock inside of me, I moan loudly, my head moving down to rest on the counter. 

Once fully inside of me, his flesh hand moves to my throat, holding me tight. "You like being bent over? You like having me in control?" He taunts me, his hand tightening around my throat, his hips moved backwards, nearly taking his cock out of me, before slamming himself back into me. 

"Fuck" I groan, my breaths ragged as I struggle to breath, the force of his hand holding my throat making the feeling of him fucking me even better. 

I lift up slightly, so my back was flushed against his chest, my moans quiet as he slams his hips into my arse. Anyone could walk in, my eyes dart to the open doorway. Sure it was early morning and in theory everyone was asleep. 

"Anyone could walk in doll" He speaks as he fucks me "They could walk in, see you, see me taking you like the perfect slut you are" He whispers, his lips against my ear, I nod slightly, unable to talk anymore, his metal fingers circle my clit pushing me to my edge, I come hard my legs shaking under his body. 

"Jesus doll, you've got no idea what you do to me, do you?" He asks, moaning loudly in my ear. 

"Yeah? Harder" I whimper, my voice strained. 

"You want more, doll?" He growls in my ear, his hips move faster, fucking me harder, his thick cock stretching my tight pussy. I was grateful for his hand around my throat, I'd be screaming the compound down otherwise. Bucky lets out a low moan of pleasure, his hand clenching around my throat. 

"You like that doll? Like being taken by me?" He asks, his lips moving against my ear, his teeth scraping the shell of my ear, his thrusts into me became sloppy, he fucks harder into me, whines coming from his lips as he finished hard, spilling completely into me. 

"Fuck" I mutter as I feel him pull out of me, stepping away. 

He lets out a long breath, I turn around to see him pulling his jeans up, he looked up to me, his eyes dark with a hint of possessiveness. 

"You good?"

"Yeah...fuck, that was good, I still dislike you however" I smirk, my legs feeling weak. He lets out a snort, a smirk on his lips. 

"Oh doll, don't act like that, you loved that I gave it to you" He smirks, I shake my head, I grabbed my pyjama bottoms, pulling them on. I walk past him, my shoulder knocking into him. He grabs my arm, stopping me in my tracks, spinning me around to face him. 

"Where do you think you're going doll?"

"To bed, that alright with you Barnes?" I ask, more harshly than I should of. 

"Alone?" He smirks. I roll my eyes, I wanted him to come with me, I found myself wanting to sleep next to him, he wouldn't...Would he?

"Not going soft on me, are you?" I asked, smirking. He smiles and presses his body to mine again. 

"It's not going soft, it's called being a gentleman"

"You've never once been a gentleman to me before" I say, my eyes looking over his face. 

"True, but I can be, when I want to be" He smiles, letting out an amused huff, running his hand down my arm, his fingers trailing over my skin. 

"Fine, sleep in my bed with me?" I say, trying not to sound pathetic, like I was begging. A look of surprise and smugness came over his face.

"Is that an invitation?" He smirks. 

"Jesus, take it or don't, I don't care" I say shaking him off and walking out of the room, he follows me. "Fuck, you're annoying"

He chuckles, watching me open the door to my bedroom "Says the one who's inviting me into her bed doll" He smirks. 

"Fine, invitation revoked" I say, stepping into my room, I watched as laughed following me. 

"Oh no doll, You can't invite me and then take it back" He grins, shutting my bedroom door. 

"Whatever" I say as I walk to my bed and crawl in. I watched as he follows me, crawling into my bed, he lays on top of the duvet, looking unsure on what to do. I smile softly and shut my eyes, ready for sleep to take me. 

(I do not consent my works to be posted anywhere else, by anyone other than myself)

Taglist:

@quinquinquincy

[thevoidstaredback]

How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have

They had planned to leave before Bruce got back to the Manor, but plans change all the time and it wasn't Danny's fault!

Alfred had invited a friend of Dick's, Barbra Gordon, to the Manor for dinner, meaning that Dick had to stay if he wanted to see her. And since Dick was staying, Danny was staying. Tim wasn't about to leave Danny to Bruce's mercy, so he was staying for dinner, too.

Bruce Wayne arrived at Wayne Manor exactly three and a half minutes after six in the evening. He entered the kitchen exactly ten minutes and five seconds after that.

The air was tense.

Dick had been tense since Danny first roped him into coming to Gotham, only getting worse as they got closer to the building they were now sitting in. Now that Bruce and Dick were in the same room, it was like the rope had frayed to the point of snapping with a light breeze.

Bruce sat at the head of the table with Tim to his left and down a chair. Dick sat at the foot of the table, Barbra sitting to his immediate right. Danny sat on the unoccupied side of the table, directly in the middle.

No one was saying a word.

Danny was on edge.

Finally, "Dick," Bruce said.

"Bruce," was the response.

As if the spell had been broken, though the awkwardness remained, Barbra cleared her throat and said, "It's good to have you back in Gotham, D."

Dick smiled at her, soft and happy and relieved. "It's good to see you, Babs. How've you been?"

"The same as usual. Though, Condiment King again!" She glared when Dick started laughing. "Yeah, sure, laugh it up, Wonder Boy. It took three hours to get that mustard out of my costume! It's easier to get blood out of white carpets-!"

Bruce pointedly cleared his throat, bringing all attention to him. "As good as it is to see you, Dick, who've you brought with you?"

Barbra flinched back slightly, having forgotten Danny was even there. Oops.

Danny grinned at Bruce, hiding his nerves behind his favorite fake-it-'til-you-make-it smile. "My name's Danny, it's nice to meet you Mister Wayne! I have to say, you're a lot less smiley in person than you are on the internet."

He hummed. "I apologize. Today's been an off day."

"No need," Danny waved off politely, "I get it."

"I have to say, Daniel-"

"'Danny', please. My name's Danny."

To his credit, Bruce didn't even skip a beat. "Then, call me Bruce. I must say that I didn't expect Dick to have taken anyone in."

Danny chuckled a bit. "I think it's less of him taking me in and more of me kind of letting myself into his house."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I noticed he wasn't doing too well, so I figured I'd step in to help where I could before he got himself hurt." 'Or worse' was heavily implied. "I imagine Tim did much the same with you?"

Tim stiffened as Bruce sighed. Well, that's not a good sign.

"Yes, though Tim doesn't live here."

"He has a room, though, right?"

"Of course."

"Good. I can't imagine having to travel with the kind of injuries you guys get at night is very fun." Here, he turned and looked Barbra in the eye. "Honestly, you deserve a prize for traveling from here to wherever you live after getting injured."

Barbra smiled sheepishly, "Thanks? I don't really come here, though. Only on occasion."

Bruce interrupted before the conversation could continue, "What do you mean? Dick's the only one of us who could possibly get hurt on the job." He shook his head. "Honestly, why did you ever join the BHPD? It's too dangerous."

Oh, Danny had to put a stop to that right away!

"Sorry, to jump in here, Mister Wayne, but I know what all of you moonlight as." He ignored Bruce's narrowed, sharp glare. "You're Batman, Dick is Nightwing, Tim is Robin, meaning that Barbra has to be Batgirl and, if I'm right, Oracle."

"Who are you?" Bruce demanded. He didn't ask because asking is for people who aren't paranoid enough to have six levels of security at the front gate alone.

"I just told you: Danny." He unflinchingly met Bruce's glare. "Not good enough for you? I'm Danny, personal caretaker of vigilantes who refuse to take care of themselves, bookkeeper, cook, unlicensed medical unprofessional, et cetera. Though, don't call me a therapist because that's my sister. Is that a better answer?"

Bruce hummed.

The meal itself was somehow even worse than before Alfred had brought out the food. Glares were being thrown and concerned glances shared. It made the food taste bad, which was probably a war crime.

Danny had been raised with manners, so he'd thanked Alfred for making dinner. He even offered to help with clean up, though he backed down when he was refused. He knows better.

After dinner, the group had gone back into the very same drawing room as before. Dick and Barbra cuddled together on the couch, Bruce and Tim took the two armchairs, and Danny sat on the floor in front of the now lit fireplace.

"So, Tim," Danny started, "You working on any interesting cases?"

Tim seemed to perk up a bit. "Yeah, actually. It's a murder-"

"We're not at liberty to discuss anything with you, Daniel." Bruce's voice was gravely, almost the voice he used as Batman, as he spoke over Tim.

Danny's eyes narrowed. "I believe I told you my name is 'Danny', not 'Daniel'."

"Well, seeing as I don't actually know you, and you have offered up no sir name, I'll stick with calling you whatever I'm comfortable with, especially in my own home."

"This isn't a fight you wanna pick, Mister Wayne. You might want to rethink your choice."

"I am well aware of what battles to fight. However, you're mistaken. This isn't a battle. I'm merely stating that I will be calling you 'Daniel' until you offer up your sir name to be called by."

Danny very obviously looked Bruce up and down. "I guess my parents were right; You can't ever believe everything you read on the internet."

"Oh? Why do you say that?"

"Because you, Mister Wayne, are horrible with children."

The temperature in the room dropped. Bruce's glare hardened even more. He appraised Danny, assessing him and filing away everything he could find. "Speaking to me like that in my own home is quite the move."

"Are you threatening me, Mister Wayne?"

"Not at all," he denied. "What are you really doing here, Dick?"

"I wanted to come meet Tim," Dick lied.

"Don't lie to me."

"What, I can't even come meet your newest Robin?"

"After the way you treated Jason?"

Dick stood quickly, Barbra scrambling to her feet. "After the way I-! You're the one who let him put on my old uniform!"

Bruce stood to his full height, looking down on Dick. "Me? You barely even talked to him! I spent as much time as I could with him!"

Danny blocked out the already out of hand yelling match and grabbed Barbra's and Tim's hands, leading them out of the room. This was not how he was hoping this would go at all.

He could still hear the yelling, even in the foyer.

"I'm sorry," he whispered to Tim and Barbra, "I didn't expect this to happen."

"It's alright," Barbra said, flinching when she realized that she could hear both men's voices almost clearly.

"No, it's not. I dragged Dick here to apologize to Tim. We were supposed to leave before Bruce even left Wayne Enterprises."

Tim shook his head. "We should've anticipated something like this would happen."

"Yeah..."

The three sat together on the steps, Bruce and Dick's voices carrying through the wood and marble.

"Hey," Barbra said after a few minutes, "How do you know about the Cave being under the Manor?"

Danny blinked at her before turning to Tim. "There's a cave under the Manor?!" He glared playfully at his friend. "You didn't tell me that your base of operations is a cave under Wayne Manor!"

"If it makes you feel any better," Tim offered, "Dick named it the Bat Cave."

"It's called the Bat Cave!?"

Part 12 Part 14

[saltywatercrocodile]

Quick (Informal) PSA For Therian Minors

I see a lot of minors in the community who seem very...comfortable, I guess, with sharing personal information and photos on here and other sites, and I just wanted to speak my piece about it.

Something I remembered from another post that I wanna steal because I love the wording: before you share something on the internet, think what could someone who wanted to hurt me do with this information? Not trying to be condescending, I'm an adult and I think that exact sentence in my head before I post/comment/DM anything related to myself.

Just saw a post where a well-meaning therian minor linked their Youtube channel, which has videos of them irl (wearing a mask, but still) doing quads outside and at an indoor non-chain business with the name/logo of the building clearly visible.

I cannot emphasize how much I was taught to be extremely careful about posting any irl images as a kid/teen, as people can infer your location from very minor details, MUCH LESS VIDEOS OF MY WHOLE BODY IN AN EASILY GOOGLE-ABLE LOCATION. What happens if someone with malicious intent sees that video, which is public on youtube? What will you do when someone attempts to blackmail or doxx you? Not only would this would-be criminal know where you are, they can also see how old you are and exactly what you look like. Terrifying.

(I understand we're in a culture of many people posting videos of themselves online, but (in my opinion) it's just not safe to be uploading public content that's advertising "Hi I'm bodily a child/teenager and this is what I look like and this is close to where I live and I'm also a therian who's probably hiding this account from my parents")

This individual is essentially just trusting that no one on the entirety of Youtube will just google the name of the indoor facility (along with any other location-identifying posts they may make) and either threaten them via doxxing or just straight up threaten their life/safety.

I knew someone in school who got too comfortable in an in-game chat, and was lulled into a false friendship and tricked into mentioning his address. Then he was threatened and told to send them money or they would physically find him. Thankfully he felt safe enough to tell his parents, who knew how to stop the situation. I know a lot of us aren't out to our family, and I dread to think what would have happened if the boy I knew hadn't felt safe enough to explain the situation to his parents.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

TLDR; before you post personal info/photos, think of the absolute worst evil that someone could do to you with that information. I know it's a bummer, but doxxing/blackmail happens more than you think, and even if your posts only seem to get low notes/likes/whatever, they can theoretically be seen by ANYONE, including people who want to hurt you.

(also I don't mean to call out or harass anyone, I'm not trying to be mean, I just wanted to use an example bc it's what inspired me to make this post and also I wanted to outline why real behaviours I'm seeing can be dangerous, rather than just making up hypotheticals)

[lohotine]

(does a lil twirl) hi!!! hello!! i’ve never sent in an ask like this before, so sorry if i do something wrong o|-<! but what would be your take/your thoughts on a yandere shadow milk situation, where the reader truly starts to fight back, resist? 🤔

AN: Inspo from the song "Meant To be Yours."

Shadow Milk x Reader

Oneshot

Warnings: Yandere, toxic relationship, obsessing, manipulation, mentions of murder

-Locked Out-

"Come on doll, you're just being silly!"

A few knocks would be sounded on your door.

"I already told you. I'm not coming out until you agree to let me leave!"

Shadow Milk sighed. Surely you didn't think that something as simple as a door would be able to stop him... right? He almost found your stupidity amusing....

Oh well. Entertaining this small delusion of yours for a little while couldn't hurt.

"You know locking yourself in there kind of defeats the purpose of being able to escape, right?" He'd ask you.

...

"I don't care! I just don't want to see your stupid face. I hate you!"

And you'd keep repeating that last line over and over.

"I hate you."

He knew better than anyone that those words held no truth. They couldn't! How could you hate him when all he's been doing has been in your name?

He lived for you. He breathed for you. All of his thoughts were for you. It was all you, you, you, you, you!

You were akin to a beautiful bird. One that, if it were to ever escape, would surely be hunted down by others. That's why you needed to stay here, with him, where he could keep you safe.

Keeping you chained down was in your best intrets, even if it did strip you of your freedom... He was the only one who deserved to see you, after all.

"Listen, my doll. I love you so much. Why don't we just end this silly argument?"

His voice sounded so inciting, yet it was laced with a venom that would kill you if you ever let it in.

"No. Don't talk to me unless you're bringing me outside."

There you went again, acting all stubborn... It was a fun game at first, but it's now become a lot more troublesome.

"Open this door," he said, this time with much less leniency in his voice.

He said it in such a way that shook you to your very core. It was cold and uncaring, unlike his usual playful self.

But... you just knew you couldn't open that door. You'd basically be handing your freedom over to him.

"You know I hate it when you do these things-" a loud bang came from the other side of the door, "you always make it look like I'm the bad guy."

But you would not move. You did not open that door. You could not open that door.

"If this door isn't open in five seconds, I'm going to come in there myself."

...

What caused his personality to change so much?

"Five."

Why did it have to be you that he adored?

"Four."

Can't he just leave you alone?

"Three."

He's actually insane!

"Two."

Please go away...

"One."

....

You asked for this, Shadow Milk thought to himself. If only you had cooperated more. Maybe he wouldn't have to do these things. It really was all your fault.

He vanished into some shadows before swiftly reappearing on the other side of the door; where you were.

Ah, he just loved seeing your face full of fear.

We're you scared of him?

Good. You should be.

It's about time you realize who's really pulling the strings.

"You didn't really think escaping me would be so easy right? A simple locked door is hardly an obstacle, doll." He bent down in front of you, smiling and patting your head degradingly.

Tears would prick the corners of your glossy eyes as you realized you had lost.

"Oh, I've just had the most brilliant idea!" He leaned slightly closer to you. "You said you wanted to go outside, right?"

There wasn't a response from you, but you looked up at him ever so slightly.

"How about I bring you to a nice little village and slaughter each one of the residents in front of you?" His smile turned crazed, and there was hardly any sanity left in those eyes of his.

I mean, of course he'd never actually bring you outside. There was too much risk in something like that. He just needed to scare you a bit. Get you to submit.

You'd grab his arm and started to beg; quite pathetically at that.

"Don't-"

He just kept smiling, forcing you to your feet and dragging you around by the wrist.

"Wait! Don't do that please," You'd say in between a few sobs.

His grasp around your wrist tightened.

"Tell me you're sorry," he said.

"What-?"

"Apologize."

"I'm sorry.." your legs began to quiver and you'd take a small step away from him instinctly.

He cupped your face, bringing you closer to him. "For what?"

"For not listening."

It's strange, really. He was the one breaking you down, yet you were the one apologizing. It's scary how easy it is to get you crawling back to him.

"All right. I'll forgive you. But only because I'm so loving and understanding."

He brought your face to his, pushing his forehead against yours.

"Just know that next time I won't hesitate to kill all of them, and it'll be all your fault if I do."

《☆》 Fin

[thyfleshc0nsumed]

I agree with you about your stances on punishment, and I think it's so important to see that perspective instead of the more common one. I do not want to live in a world with the death penalty or prison.

But I'm very curious how you got to the point where you want your abuser to be happy. Capital H happy. I've never seen that before. I think it's great, and it must've taken a lot of time, and if it's not too personal, I'd like to hear about the process. If not to help myself, to help someone else. I'm personally very very jaded to the whole "forgiveness" mentality (it seems very catholic to me somehow? I forgive you so I'm better than you?) But the way you put it feels different somehow. Sorry for picking your brain, and if it's too personal I totally get it. Thanks for your time.

Thank you for this question.

Hm, it's a tough one. It may be informed by my lack of any singular capital-A Abuser. Certainly, I have had people who were abusive to me longer term (my mother especially), but for the most part it was many dozens of adults in single instances or shorter term situations during my childhood and teenage years that raped or otherwise harmed me. That lack of any singular individual to act as a locus for all the damage may have made it easier for me to come to a point where I wish them well.

I remember being 19, face in my toilet bowl, puking my guts up after downing a fifth of rum in an hour or two. I think it was a Thursday. I understood my mother for the first time. I wanted to stop drinking, and I didn't know why I couldn't.

My roommate at the time slept on a mattress on the floor in the living room. He left his family the day he turned 18 and took the Greyhound across the country to crash with me. We were good friends when he got here, but my negligence and failure to control my drug use ruined that relationship within a few months. He stayed with me for two years. He didn't have other options.

I don't remember those years well at all. Besides various temp jobs, all I did was drink, get fucked up, and make messes I never cleaned up. It was a one bedroom apartment and I had the bedroom, he couldn't really go anywhere. He didn't really know anyone. I was a fucking terror to live with, and a terror he couldn't even really get away from.

And I didn't mean to be that way. I didn't mean to hurt him with my dereliction. But it doesn't matter, y'know, impact is more important than intent. I fucked up bad.

Eventually he left. I was and still am filled with remorse for putting him through what I did. Maybe this perspective is the christian upbringing, maybe it's twelve step bullshit, but often I see my feelings as very self serving. I can justify just about anything, as long as I use enough self pity. But this feeling was different. It was just... remorse, pure and unfiltered. No rationalizations as to how it wasn't really my fault, no equivocations, no blaming outside factors, just acknowledgement that I fucked up and I hurt someone I loved. I was sorry that I had done that.

Humility does not come naturally to me. This was a humbling experience.

I--and everyone I've ever met, everyone who ever harmed me--am a human being. No more, no less. In each of us is potential both to love deeply and to do great harm to others. No one is without both these potentials.

It comes down to this: what I wish for myself, I must wish for all.

Do not mistake me here--this does not neatly translate into a pragmatic political position. For me, this is simply some sort of spirituality, that is to say, how I strive to navigate my life, day at a time, in the world as I find it. This is as small scale as it can get.

I understand that feeling about forgiveness you mention. What I have to say about it probably won't help the christian connotation; I am an atheist and a subjectivist, though obviously culturally evangelical. Maybe it is that last part that influences this next, but I don't feel I have the authority to forgive anyone. Or, in another word, 'let he who is without sin cast the first stone.'

Now, of course, I believe in neither god nor sin, but I do believe in harm. 'Let he who is not capable of such harm cast the first stone,' perhaps. Not all harm is equivalent, certainly, but no one is innately capable or incapable of greater harm than others. The ability to actually do harm is relative to relations to power, no doubt, but a given power relation is not innate.

So yeah I end up back at 'i have no moral high ground over or under anyone else, the forgiveness is neither mine to give nor withhold,' which frankly is a rather christian viewpoint.

There's this idea in Judaism that has stuck with me for the last few years: tikkun olam. To repair the world. What must I do to ensure my part in that repair happens?

There is so little I have control of. The only thing I can change is what I do. If the world around me is hardened and cruel, why must I adopt that cruelty into myself? Will it get me better outcomes in life? Perhaps, perhaps not. I have found it hasn't, but others may find it has. But that's talking about results. And I don't have power over results.

I cannot change the world, cannot repair it alone. But I think I can work to repair myself, and in the process, the smallest portion of the world may be repaired alongside me. Maybe, maybe not. It becomes a matter of faith. Or to put it in a therapeutic framing, it's an 'even if.'

I'll end with this, an old twelve step saying: "resentments are like drinking a bottle of poison and expecting the other person to die."

What is a resentment? Re- as in once more. -sent, as in sentiment. Feeling something once more. It is the reanimated corpse of a feeling, not the feeling itself. It looks like the feeling you know, maybe walks and talks like it too. But it's rotting away. It died long ago. So why should you pretend the corpse is alive? It moves, it rasps, but it's something else now; it only shares a body with the original, nothing else. So maybe it's time to let go, and begin to move forward.

[bisexualchaosdemon]

His Brother's Real Laugh

(A look at Andrew and Aaron pre 'It runs in the family')

A little over three years after graduating from PSU, Andrew gets a call from Aaron. It isn't one of the scheduled times they usually have calls, but Aaron is calling to see if Andrew can visit soon. Andrew is in the car before he has even hung up, never mind that his twin lives two states away.

Unsure of how to react to Andrew appearing his doorstep mere hours after Aaron asked him to come, Aaron points out that he is meant to be at practice with his fancy Pros Exy team. Andrew flipped him off and didn't bother with a proper greeting either, "What's wrong?"

"What?" Aaron frowned, confused. "Nothing is wrong."

"Something must but up if you couldn't tell me on our normal brotherly bonding call." Andrew insisted.

"It wanted to speak to you in person, but nothing's wrong," Aaron sighed. "Just come in, I'll make coffee."

"If you try to give me decaf again, I'm going to kill myself on your wife's nice white rug." Andrew warned.

Aaron laughed as he led the way to his small kitchen. "I made sure we had regular coffee when you said you were coming and hung up,"

Andrew nods and watches Aaron make their coffee. Katelyn doesn't appear to be home, but it's not unusual for their schedules to shift out of sync with their medical school graduation now less than a year away. And Aaron didn't look upset or hurt at all; just a little nervous.

Andrew allowed his brother a moment to collect himself, just until they sat down with their drinks. "What's going on, Aaron?" He asked again.

"Kate's pregnant," Aaron answered at last.

Oh. Andrew had not been expecting that. He didn't react outwardly, unsure what reaction was appropriate here.

"Is this good news?" He asked.

"I think so?" Aaron shrugged. "I've spent the last week freaking out, in all honesty. We are meant to finally be starting our careers now so the timing isn't ideal, and after everything with Tilda... But, I think it's good, yeah. I think I can do this, if it's Kate I'm doing it with."

"If anyone can pull off becoming a doctor and a mother in the same year, it's Katelyn." Andrew acknowledged. As much as he had hated Katelyn at first, he had come to understand why Aaron loved her over the years. They weren't besties, but Andrew had been Aaron's best man when they got married.

"She is a force of nature," Aaron smiled into his coffee. The twins have never, and would never, admit that they shared a love of fiery redheads.

"And you are more capable than you give yourself credit for," Andrew said. "I know you can do this, irrespective of timing or what happened in the past."

"I–" Aaron blinked at Andrew in surprise. It was a minute before he was able to answer, "Thank you."

Katelyn came home later on while they were chatting, and Andrew extended her that same congratulations. She thanked his brightly as she came to join them, plopping down next to her husband and putting her feet in his lap. Aaron started rubbing them without even pausing their conversation.

"You don't need to thank me for the truth." Andrew gave him a small, rare smile. "Congratulations, Aaron."

Aaron insisted that Andrew at least stay the night once they were done talking. Andrew agreed after texting his own husband to assure the silly rabbit that he was actually alive, if in a different state than when they last spoke. And that he hated him, after Neil had responded with something sappy in Russian.

It was the next morning that Andrew had suggested Aaron and Katelyn move to be in the same city after graduation. He could see the surprise and hesitation on their faces and held up a hand to stop them responding. They had nine months to figure it out, but he wanted to help if he could and he missed living in the same state as his brother. He just wanted them to consider it for now.

They put a pin in the topic there. They talked about other things over the coming weeks instead. Any high or low, Andrew listened to anything Aaron wanted to talk about. He even ordered food to be delivered to Katelyn a couple of times when Aaron was worried she wasn't taking enough breaks from studying but didn't know how to help.

So when Aaron's name popped up on his phone the same afternoon he knew Katelyn's first ultrasound was due to take place, Andrew was on high alert immediately. "Is something wrong?"

"What?" Aaron was just as confused as he had been last time Andrew greeted him in that manner.

"Katelyn had her scan today and you are calling," Andrew explained. "Is something wrong?"

"No," Aaron breathed out the slightest chuckle. "No, not wrong."

"But there is a reason you called," Andrew prompted, not quite a question.

"Yeah, uh," Aaron sounded dazed. "We're having twins."

Things so rarely went well for the Minyard twins, it was a startling relief that Aaron wasn't calling with bad news. He was just calling to freak out about the shock of finding out he was having twins when he only just stopped panicking about having one kid.

"Maybe it runs in the family," Andrew remarked. He thought Aaron having twins was objectively hilarious.

"Maybe the universe is just fucking with us," Aaron suggested with a playful groan.

And Andrew laughed. A real, genuinely happy laugh. Aaron had never heard his brother laugh like that before. "Us? No, this one is all you, brother mine. I've never been so happy to be the gay twin."

And then Aaron was laughing too. "You're the asshole twin, is what you are."

[familyromantic]

Challenge/contest with a prize (spread the word y'all)

Okay, since there were some people interested, I announce a little contest for my fellow incest shippers.

Rules:

You must write about an incest or incest-adjacent ship that hasn't been featured on this blog. But, since I don't post about parentcest, grandparentcest and selfcest at all, it can't be a ship of these categories either. Don't have anything against it, just thought it would be fair. So bring on your unpopular ships ^^ You can check if your ship has been mentioned or not, by search. Try inputting characters' names or the media's title. Or you can just ask me and I'll say if this ship has been mentioned or not.

You must write an introduction to the ship, where it's made clear who they are and why do you ship them. Whether you include spoilers or not is your decision, but I'd prefer if you did go in depth and at least briefly described your ship's canon interactions.

Non blood-related ships are allowed, but fauxcest (think they're related but are not) isn't. And, just my personal preference, I can't stop you, of course, but I would really like to hear about blood-related ships more. AU ships, OC x canon, selfships etc. are also not allowed! (Forgot to add, but real people ships are very not allowed, but historical fiction is - for example, if you take Cesare/Lucrezia, you should specify which fandom are they from, but NOT real life Cesare and Lucrezia. That was an example, you can't take this ship obviously)

You can include your opinions, headcanons, meta, screenshots, whatever you want really, and if you don't want to, that's okay too, but make your introduction interesting to read. Basically, sell your ship to me 😁

Send it through the ask or submission. If you do so anonymously, then write your wishes for the prize in the same message in case you win, cause I won't be able to contact you obviously. Or you can send the message to me through DMs and I will post anonymously (so only I will know who the author is), but contact you if you win.

Prize:

I know how hard it is to find art of your favorite unpopular ship, so here's your treat: you'll get an art of your ship, made specially for your tastes! :) The art won't be drawn by me, you can rest assured that I wouldn't have anyone competing for that. It will be commissioned by me though. You can't choose the artist, sorry, but I promise you that I know decent artists and you won't be disappointed (I hope).

I will choose the winner myself, judging by how interesting their introduction was (I won't swear to be absolutely objective, but yk it's my contest soo 😂)

Timeframe:

From the time this was posted, to 10th of September.

Important: If there are less than 5 participants, the event will be cancelled.

(but I'll still post your message, of course)

[666writingcafe]

A Reward (Part Two)

Content Warning: a MC-centered orgy featuring blow jobs

MC

One moment, I'm watching a movie with everyone. The next, I'm back on the bed I was on during Belphie's portion of my chastity test.

"Welcome back," Belphie greets me. He's sitting cross-legged across from me.

"What's going on?" I ask. "This isn't a surprise final, is it?"

"No, no, nothing like that."

"Then what am I doing here?" Belphie sighs.

"We've noticed how tense you've been the last few days and figured it was due to the emotional aftermath of the test."

"I mean, you're not wrong. I know it was designed to push my limits, but damn. It didn't need to be that fucking hard." Belphie chuckles.

"That's why we decided to reward you." That's the second time he's said "we", but the word just now registered in my brain.

"We?" I repeat. Belphie nods his head, smiling. There's no way this is happening right now.

"You mean all of you agreed--"

"Yep," he answers, interrupting my train of thought. "It was surprisingly easy."

"Belphie, I...I don't know what to say."

"Just tell me when you want to begin." I'm completely speechless. The fact that these guys are willing to play out this particular fantasy of mine is something I never thought would actually happen. It's part of why I resisted Asmo's charm for so long; I didn't want him--or anyone else--to think less of me for it.

"Don't overthink it, MC."

"It's not that," I tell him. "It's just...well...why is it happening here?"

"Diavolo was worried that your body couldn't handle the stress of this in the real world, so this is the next best thing."

"But this is only a dream." Belphie rolls his eyes.

"You're forgetting, MC: I can make this feel like reality. That includes leaving evidence that will still be there when you wake up. We're simply taking advantage of the nebulous nature of the dream realm to make this happen for you." I close my eyes, still feeling overwhelmed. Part of me considers having Belphie send me to another part of the dream realm that has rainbows or something less intense than this.

"It's okay," Belphie comforts. "You don't have to worry about a thing. We'll take care of you. I promise." I take a deep breath. The person that I was before the exchange program would have never agreed to do something this slutty. Not because I didn't want to, but because I was afraid of making a fool out of myself.

But I've grown a lot since then, and these guys seem to accept me, flaws and all.

"Okay," I whisper. I feel the bed shift. Moments later, I find myself up against someone's chest as Belphie's lips are on mine. The mystery person's hands reach inside my shirt and lightly slide up my sides, making me shiver.

"Relax," Lucifer whispers, planting a kiss on my temple. "You're allowed to enjoy yourself."

"We don't have to do this if you feel uncomfortable," Belphie adds. Opening my eyes reveals his face inches away from my own. "Just say the word, and we'll stop."

"Please keep going." I sound pathetic. Rather than tease me for it, however, the two men resume their actions. Their hands travel up and down my body as their lips focus on my face and neck. At some point, my shirt disappears. Whether one of them actually took it off or it simply vanished into thin air is anyone's guess.

Lucifer gets off the bed, and Belphie gently pushes me so that I'm lying on my back. Multiple hands and lips immediately begin roaming all over my body, reducing me to pants and soft whines.

"Aaaw," Asmo coos. "You're so adorable, MC."

"We've barely gotten started, and already you're a trembling mess," Satan observes.

"I..." Their constant touching is making me forget what I was even going to say. Something about me not being able to help it?

"Ssh," Simeon whispers. "You don't have to talk, MC. Just focus on us, okay?" I feel like I'm melting.

"Give them a moment," Diavolo instructs, his breath hot on my belly. "They're not used to having this much attention on them. They're probably overwhelmed." Everyone's movements stop as they look at me, waiting for a reaction.

"It's..." I have to really focus to get the words to come out of my mouth. "It's like my brain's turned to jelly."

"Is that a good thing?" Solomon asks.

"I think so. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. I'm just not used to it, that's all."

"If I'd known you'd react like this, I would have made this happen a lot sooner," Belphie chimes in. "It's nice seeing you truly relax, MC."

"So, are you good to continue?" Beel asks. "Or do you need more time to recenter yourself?" I take another deep breath. I have a feeling I'll be doing that quite a bit this evening.

"I'm ready." With that, the men resume their touching, keeping a closer eye on my reactions to make sure I don't become overstimulated again.

"You're doing so well, MC," Barbatos praises. "Such a good little lamb." Hearing the compliment makes me whine.

"Oh yeah, I forgot to mention this to you guys," Belphie states. "Well, Asmo may have known already, but it seems as though our MC has a bit of a praise kink."

"Is that true, MC?" Mammon asks, rubbing his hand up and down my thigh. "Do you like being told how good you are?" I hum affirmatively.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of," Levi responds. "I have one, too. It helps boost my self-confidence."

"For me, they help me feel valued," I explain quietly. "They assure me that I'm doing the right thing."

"So, does degradation have the opposite effect on you?" Belphie asks.

"I mean, if that's all you're doing, then yes. I'd probably start crying. But if there are praises mixed into it, then it's not so bad."

"So, if I told you to take my dick in your mouth like the good little whore that you are, you wouldn't have a problem with that?"

"Oh, that got their attention," Asmo quips before I have a chance to answer. It makes sense that he picked up on that; he is the Avatar of Lust, after all.

"Then let's put it to the test." The other men move off me, and Belphie repositions the two of us so that my face is level with his crotch. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Satan, Barbatos, Asmo, and Diavolo all exchange knowing glances. They've all witnessed first hand how I react to having a demon dick in my face, and it's not by acting all shy about it.

Belphie makes the clothes on his bottom half disappear with a snap of his fingers, and without hesitation I wrap my mouth around him, gripping both sides of his waist as I begin moving up and down.

"Fuck!" Belphie hisses. "Where'd you learn to do that?"

"That was my reaction when they did that to me," Asmo responds. "Really threw me off guard at first. I didn't think they even knew how to give a blowjob, let alone be able to excel at it."

"It appears to become the only thing on their mind," Diavolo adds. "They won't stop until you've cummed completely in your mouth, and even then they might continue sucking."

"Hang on," Mammon chimes in. "You mean to tell me that you two received a blowjob from MC before the rest of us?"

"Make that four," Barbatos answers.

"Four?! Now, that hardly seems fair." I briefly stop what I'm doing to tell Mammon that I'd be more than happy to help even the score, so to speak, making him shut up and allowing me to continue pleasuring Belphie.

The next little bit goes by in a blur as I make good on my promise. Mammon's quite loud, Levi babbles incoherently the whole time, Beel mostly growls, and Lucifer and Solomon groan like the old men that they are.

But the one that stands out to me the most is Simeon. After making 100% sure that he's okay with me doing this to him, I go for it. The noises that consequently come out of his mouth are some of the prettiest I've ever heard. It almost sounds like he's singing.

My jaw aches when I'm finally finished.

"Our turn," Belphie states. The bed creaks as he gets on it, pushing me up against the headrest. He then grabs my legs and spreads them apart before positioning himself between them. The gaspy moan I produce when he begins pleasuring me with his mouth appears to be a kind of siren call, for everyone else resumes touching the rest of my body with their hands and lips.

I don't know how much time passes or how many orgasms I have. And yet I can't find it in me to care that much. There's only one word on my mind as they have their way with me: more.

Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @l3v1chan

[deceasedream69]

A Love Story

This is a little series I want to make, I hope y'all enjoy.

Summary: you have scarlet witch powers. It all started when you moved to a different country, obviously always so curious, discovering new places around your new home, how can you ignore a museum? it was less obvious than a bank.

A/n: my first language is not English so I have no idea how English people really talk, so Steven's probably going to be more American than English, but I'll try my best. (Feedback would be appreciated)

___________________________________________

Steven's pov

It was a boring day, selling bloody gummies again. Gummies, in a museum, absolutely absurd, but who am I to go against my boss?

Until I see a kid sticking something to a statue. Off course, scolding a kid in a museum it's just going to create a bad impression about museums in the youngling's mind, a history lesson so they appreciate the statue must be a much better idea.

I got scolded regardless, and went back to my spot. As I had nothing to do I used to just look around and see if anyone did anything interesting.

Until I saw a girl using her cellphone in the museum, how absurd! why come to the museum then?

- You know, it's far more interesting if you look around.

She laughed and showed me her phone.

- Not from around here, I was trying to read the history of every statue off the plaques they have on the sides but... I don't understand some words, so I was using my translator.

- Oh, my bad, already scolded you for trying to understand history, how foolish of me!

She laughed again. She had a very light up smile.

- I understand, don't worry. I would've done the same anyway. It's just, there are some very old... interesting and weird words, I wouldn't know how to classify them.

- What's your first language?

- Spanish

- Oh, I can't really dominate that, think I've never met anyone who speaks spanish either.

- Well, hola, pleasure to be the first person you meet that speaks spanish, my name is y/n

- Hola, ¿cómo estás?, that's all I know - I laughed - my name is Steven, with a v.

- gusto conocerte, Steven. That means nice to meet you.

- how was it?

- gusto... conocerte...

I repeated just as she taught me, although I think I lacked the pronunciation, but it was far more interesting than just looking at people looking at statues.

We stayed there speaking for about half an hour, I explained the history of the statues to her, trying to avoid all the fancy words. She even bought me like 5 bags of gummies and I gave her another 5 for free. We exchanged phone numbers and I just think I got myself a new friend.

-

Y/n's pov

The guard, easy peasy. I don't think anyone else is supposed to be here at this time, maybe another guard. I'll have to be focused.

I entered and saw the gummies stand again. I didn't want to be that mean, he gave me free gummies, but I also saw some very valuable things around.

I tipped toe my way until I reached the pieces Steven told me were the most valuable, but also easy to take. I was looking at some necklaces when I heard some movement in the back. I quickly hid behind Steven's stand and peaked my head up to see if it was another guard.

- AAAAAAAAAA

Steven came across the room running and screaming, a wolf following him.

- Steven?!

He stopped and turned to look at me as he was hiding behind a column. The wolf turned to look at me, then he noticed where I was looking at and instantly knew Steven was there. Before he could reach him I threw him to the other side of the room and ran towards Steven,

- what is going on?!

- I don't know! quick!

He took my hand and we started to run. Steven tripped and the wolf got his leg, I pushed the wolf away, again, and pulled Steven from his arm.

- Omg, Steven, we need a place where I can heal you!

He turned and we got into a bathroom. He locked the door and sat on the counter. I took his leg and pulled the pants up, revealing a very nasty and bloody cut, with a shape of a claw. He twisted in pain. I started to use my powers on his leg. The wolf outside the door, banging and banging.

I finished healing his leg and he got up.

- all good?

- what are you doing here?

- what are you doing here so late?!

- you were stealing! that's why you asked me what was the most valuable this afternoon.

I just turned to look somewhere else, he was a nice person, didn't want to show this side to him. I looked up to reply when I noticed the door almost over Steven. I pushed him with my arm but before I could use my powers I took the impact.

Marc's pov

We weren't gonna make it alive if we only trusted in this thief, I got to act for Steven and me. So I had to get out and suit up.

and so I did.

-

My head was pounding, but I needed to help Steven... if he was still alive. I got out of the bathroom and I followed the trace of broken artifacts. Stumbling a little I heard some noise and went there.

- Steven...! I clung from a door frame.

Steven wasn't anywhere in sight. Just the wolf and a man in a white suit. They both turned to look at me after I spoke, I was still trying to focus my vision.

- Go awa - the wolf took the man from a leg, threw him to the air and just as he was about to catch him with his mouth I used my power to keep the man in the air and push the wolf away. I tried getting him down slowly but I didn't have that much energy left, still he landed on his feet and turned to look at me.

- Let's get out of here - he said as he helped me taking me from my arm.

We got out of the museum and he took his mask off. It was Steven's face but it definitely wasn't his voice, accent or personality. He pushed me against a wall and started to speak.

- I'm not Steven, I'm Marc. We have two personalities, it's none of your business but I don't need you asking questions I need you going away and never coming back - he got really close to my face - specially near Steven.

He let go of me and put his mask back on.

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.201 Miracles

Once again, I took advantage of the dry weather, daring Mother Nature to trick me again. I grabbed the toolbox and got back to work on the treehouse. I wish I could tell you I made good, uninterrupted progress. It was Rosie this time who pulled me away. She hovered nearby the entire time, so I stopped and gave her what she wanted. She's only clingy like that for two reasons, and both of them require my undivided attention. We went for a long jog. When we returned, the house was dark, and my girls were fast asleep. The night was still young, and I wasn't ready to call it quite yet, so I had a personal care night. I'm ashamed to admit when I last did yoga, and my muscles were a lot tighter because of it. I really need to figure out how to balance taking care of myself and my life.

In the morning, I woke up to a big ruckus on the side of my house. It sounded like a loud motor, so I got up to see what was going on. To my surprise, my sister caused the racket, and she was weeding the money tree! I can't lie; I felt myself tearing up. Alessia is one of the most self-centered sims I know. There's been almost nothing she's done or said that didn't benefit her. I mean, the woman skipped my engagement dinner because she didn't feel like going, and she was my sim of honor. But there she was, in my side yard, caring for my tree. Whether it's the kids softening her, or she's finally maturing, I'm so grateful to see her considering others' needs.

"Hey, sis. What are you doing out here?"

"Oh! Did I wake you?"

"Yeah, but it's cool, I guess."

"Sorry. I never saw a tree like this, so I came to get a closer look. When I saw the weeds, I figured I may as well. What is this, anyway?"

"I appreciate you doing that. This is my wedding gift from Dub. It's a money tree."

She gasped.

"They're real?!"

"Right? I didn't think they were either."

"Wow. He's some friend."

"Yeah. He's the best."

I rarely have opportunities to be up close and personal with my sister. Her eyes look tired, and I realized I don't actually know what's going on in her life.

"How are you doing, Less? Like, really."

She shrugged.

"I'm alright, I guess."

"Really, Less?"

She shrugged lackadaisically again. Some things about her will never change.

"There's not much to tell. I have my kids and boring job so they don't eat me."

I laughed so loud. Good thing we don't have neighbors right next to us.

"What about Jace?" I asked. "You heard from him?"

"Nope."

"Damn. I was really hoping he'd step up."

"He'd have to be a man to do that."

"HA! Okay, you got me there."

I had another question I was afraid to ask. The last time I asked it, I got WAY more than I bargained for. But I really wanted an answer. I promised Mama I would look after her, and I can't quite do that if I don't know what I'm dealing with.

"So...are you seeing anyone?"

"When the hell would I have time for that?"

"Touché. You should make time, though. I don't want you to feel like you're trapped in the house with the kids all the time. That's why we moved here, remember?"

"Yeah. I know. The truth is, I kinda like those little gremlins. I thought I'd hate motherhood and being tied down, but..."

"Yeah. Kids have a way of melting your heart."

"They do. I'll get back out there at some point, but for now, I'm cool with just me and my three."

Has Winterfest come early? Because I've just witnessed two miracles, ha!

"I'm really glad to hear that. I always worried about how this would go for you because...you know. Happy to know you're enjoying the journey. Mama would be so proud of you..."

The latch on the gate behind us clicks. My cute little shadow walks through, looking like she's on a mission.

"Auntie Lessia, can Breanna come play?"

"Des, it's not even 8 a.m.," I said. "Give them time to get dressed and eat breakfast."

"She can spend the day with us, you know," Alessia suggested.

As much as I love my sister, she was never on my list of potential babysitters. It's not that I don't trust her or I think she won't take care of my child because I know she will; I've seen it. I've just always been painfully aware of her situation and didn't want to add to her stress. But given what she just told me, maybe we can change that.

"Are you sure? You have your hands full already."

"It's cool, Luca. What's one more child? Besides, having her over will help me. With all four of them together, everyone will have a playmate. That frees to do other things."

I never thought of it that way.

"True. Well...yeah, okay. If you're cool with it, I'm down."

"You want to help me make breakfast?" she asked Desiree.

"Okay," Desiree shouted.

"You're such a little sweetie."

"By the way," she said to me, "I'm still very upset you got the blue-eyed child. Like, what in the world??"

"I guess the Watcher loves me the best."

"Whatever! You look like a dork. What are you even wearing?? Looking like a freezer bunny threw up on you!"

[differenteagletragedy]

Teen angst Our Life Swap AU! I will never stop!

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Positive."

You looked down at Baxter, then to the box of hair dye in your hands.

"Ok, here goes nothing."

If someone had asked you to describe what your best friend looked like, "black hair" would be near the top of the list. You knew he had an issue with it -- he thought it was grey, not black, and so he saw it as an imperfection. Fourteen-year-olds didn't have grey hair, so it must have meant there was something wrong with him.

There wasn't, you knew that. Baxter's hair may not have been jet black, but it wasn't nearly light enough that anyone would notice. Besides, regardless of hair color, he was the most beautiful person you'd ever seen. You didn't know why the color mattered so much.

But it did. It mattered to him, deeply. And he mattered to you. So you opened the box of dye and started reading the instructions.

He was uncharacteristically silent as you sorted all the little bottles then mixed things together. Sitting on the edge of the tub in the upstairs bathroom at your house, an old towel wrapped over his narrow shoulders, you could tell he was upset about something.

Before you slid on the gloves that came in the box, you took one last opportunity to check in on him.

"You sure you're ok?" you asked.

He nodded, but he wouldn't meet your eyes. That's when you sat down next to him and, after a moment of hesitation, reached over and grabbed his hand. He held it back automatically, giving it a squeeze out of second nature, but when he did look at you, he was confused.

A moment of silence passed. You knew he knew that you knew him well enough to see through this.

Finally, he sighed. His eyes went back down to his lap.

"I'm fine, it's just ... I want something to be different," he said quietly.

"What do you mean?"

He squeezed your hand again then slipped it out of your grasp, folding in on himself, and said, "I don't imagine it will come as a shock that I'm unhappy with certain things in my life."

You nodded. It didn't come as a shock. He didn't get along with his parents, he didn't like his private school and most of his classmates there. The only time he really seemed happy anymore was when he was in the comfort of your home, or really just in the comfort of you.

"I can't change so much," he continued. "I can't make most decisions for myself, I'm at the mercy of my parents which is ..." he looked off and scoffed, "not ideal."

"So what's the hair dye got to do with it?" you asked.

"It'll be one thing fixed. One less thing to think about --"

You cut him off to say, "It doesn't need fixed. Your hair. There's nothing wrong with it."

Baxter smiled at you, but there was a sadness behind it. He looked deeply in your eyes, and you knew that he was desperately trying to see himself the way you saw him -- despite his own self doubts, you'd always made it abundantly clear how wonderful you thought he was. He wanted to see it too, and he tried, but he just couldn't.

His eyes fell, and he said, "I believe I'd still like the black, please."

You took one more moment to look at him before standing up and putting on the gloves. You couldn't reach him today, but you felt confident that someday he'd grow to love himself as much as you did, if by no other means than your own dedication to him.

After going over the directions one more time, you got to work. You'd never dyed anyone's hair before, but it seemed straightforward enough. The two of you stayed silent as you went, working the dark liquid into his locks. It didn't take too long to get a mostly even coating everywhere, and then it was time to wait.

There was some idle chitchat, but he stayed quiet for the most part. It wasn't an easy silence like the kind you normally shared -- you were aching to make him feel better, and the concept of "feeling better" wasn't in the realm of possibility for him at the moment. When the timer you'd set on your phone went off, indicating it was time for a rinse, it was a relief.

After a slightly awkward bit of scrambling, Baxter ended up on his knees, his chest resting on the edge of the tub and his head down near the faucet. You pulled the showerhead down close to him, turned on the water and started spraying it over his hair, which was already clearly a pitch black. You stayed like that, not talking but just pulling him gently where you needed him, until the water ran clear.

"Ok, that should do it," you told him as you turned the water off. You pulled out a fresh towel so he could dry himself off.

He stood up, careful not to look in the mirror just yet as he scrubbed his head with the towel. But you could see everything.

The smoky grey you'd always associated with your best friend was gone, and in its place was a flat black. It was strange, and it didn't look like it belonged: what it looked like was an outward expression of the darkness that had seemed to be taking him over on the inside. You didn't like it.

When he finally put the towel down, took off the one around his shoulders and looked in the mirror, you saw that he didn't like it either. Or, as you suspected was more likely the case, it wasn't the automatic fix he'd hoped it would be for how low he felt.

Bravely, he put on another smile at his reflection, then turned it to you and said, "Well, that's something."

Without thinking, you threw your arms around him in a tight embrace. He was surprised at first, then brought his arms around you to return the hug. You weren't sure how long you stayed like that -- you were too focused on trying to press some warmth into him. Something to fight away the sadness.

"Not that I'm complaining," he eventually said, "but to what do I owe the pleasure?"

You pulled back enough to look at him and blurted out, "I love you."

His eyes widened and he flushed bright pink across his cheeks and up to the tips of his ears. You felt your own face turning hot -- no matter how true the sentiment was, it wasn't one you were ready to share with him.

"You're my best friend," you quickly added. "You're like family. I love you. That's all."

After a pause, the corners of his lips stretched upward. There was a little light in his eyes -- for the first time that afternoon, a smile had reached his eyes.

"I love you too," he said softly, pressing a kiss against your forehead.

He pressed himself back against you, holding you tighter than he had before, and that was fine by you. Maybe someday you'd see that familiar, pretty grey again, and maybe someday you'd be able to tell him the real nature of the love you had for him. But for right now, just in this moment, he was right -- this was something.

[skythealmighty]

Maximo "Lucky" Jonronero is extremely ADHD coded. in this essay i will

edit: someone asked for the essay, and since im not just about to sleep now, I can be coherent. lets start with the most damning evidence:

1. What he says to Miner during 5-X

Lucky: "I know...it's just... I was never much of anyone as a kid. Bad grades, couldn't ever focus, mom and dad yellin' at me... But on the field, everything was different. Without baseball...I feel like I'll just be that useless kid again."

this is, easily, already a common story among athletes with ADHD! not only that, but if he had no access to the right medication- and since i don't think he knows, he doesn't- it would be extremely hard to do schoolwork, much less homework, paired with all that pressure.

this also means, of course, his mom and dad likely also have undiagnosed ADHD, and possibly are projecting onto him! so yeah parent issues

2. His mannerisms at the start

at first this doesnt seem like that damning of evidence, but as a person with ADHD, his remarks resemble me. a lot.

one effect of having ADHD is this little bitch called emotional dysregulation, in which you can't- not "it's hard to", you can't- control your emotions to a degree, and they tend to get out of hand. from personal experience, it sucks ass, and especially if you dont know what it is, you get mad at your emotions for making you look like a child.

Lucky is mad. a lot. he also seems to bottle up as much as he can, a common pattern with myself. he also seems to understand that his overreactions are stupid, but he really just can't stop himself- if this is a pattern, it partially explains why he had a quicker turnaround than most would think to apologize to Paige. he KNOWS his constant anger is fucking dumb, but he can't stop it. he literally, biologically, has no power to stop it, as a person with adhd off meds.

3. The way he acts, in general

he gets distracted halfway through conversations. this also parallels with just how fast he was able to zone out in 5-3. this isn't very hard evidence, but it further perpetuates the "lack of focus" bit, which is also something he hates about himself! without knowing he has ADHD, that's not an uncommon jump of emotions

he doesn't seem to have any other interest than playing baseball at the moment (though it doesnt seem like that was always the case), but even then it seems to be dwindling out despite his best attempts (a common pattern with hyperfixations). he also seems to immediately latch onto coaching!

he moves around, a lot. we don't see him happy stim, but that jumping animation is likely an angry stim, which yes, also happens. he seems to hate staying still, which is emphasized by the fact that he needs to. for long periods of time. hence him sneaking out to the gym as much as he can. AND A GOOD ADD-ON BY @kittyfirest0rm - THE GUM. THE FUCKING GUM. HE CHEWS GUM WHILE PLAYING BASEBALL!!

he's quick to emphasize, when he's not angry. he's not very keen on some social cues, but he definitely seems to get emotions. in 5-3 he's probably surprised at Miner's easy admitting that he was injured and would stay willingly, but he also seems to get it when Miner talks about overworking himself and his emotions. (he zones out though during the explanations. classic.)

there's more i could add, but the post is getting long, so here come get your juice lol