#this takes so goddamn long but. it'll be worth it.

[princess-of-purple-prose]

hi, if you don't mind me asking (since i saw you reblog a post about the orv webtoon): how far into the novel is the webtoon, approximately, now that it's starting the dark palace (?) arc? is there still a long way to go, would you say? sincerely, a huge webtoon orv fan who is trying to muster up the strength to pick up the novel

Hi, anon!! I'm so excited you asked this, because I myself picked up the webnovel right around the dark castle arc! So, um... yeah, chapter 172 of the webtoon is chapter 151 and a good portion of chapter 152 of the webnovel, and there are 551 chapters of the webnovel total. (To be even more precise, with the formatting I have on my phone, chapter 172 covers up to 2290 pages out of 8807 pages-- just over a quarter of the way through the story both ways.) There is, uh, QUITE a ways to go

That said!!!! I literally cannot recommend the webnovel enough, and this is from someone who started with the webtoon as well and then transferred straight to the webnovel where it left off at the time! The webnovel is such a different experience, since there are so many small characterization details that the webtoon doesn't adapt, and I actually bitterly regret not starting the webnovel from the start (I'm in the process of backreading, and I find new things to scream about every day!). There's no rush at all to read the webnovel all at once when the webtoon will take so long to finish, but at the same time, the pacing is so addicting that you'll probably speed through it till you're caught up or even beyond regardless! In case you'd like it, here's some info on accessing the epub file :) Happy reading!!!!

[inkskinned]

one of the things about having an unstable parent is that it can so easily ruin your future. you want to get out, but getting out takes having agency. it takes the resume and the grades and the stellar community service history.

but you have to choose your battles. you know if you sign up for an after-school activity, it'll be okay for a while, so long as the activity is parent-approved and god-fearing. over time, like all things, it will become an argument (i can't keep carting your ass to these things) or a weapon (talk to me like that again, see if you get to go to practice). sometimes, if you love the thing, it's worth it. but you also know better than to love something: that's how they get you. if you ever actually want something, it will always be the center of their attention. they will never stop threatening you with it. telling you of course i'm a good parent, i came to all of those stupid events.

you learn to balance yourself perfectly. you can either have a social life or you can have hobbies. both of these things will be under constant scrutiny. you spend too much time with her, you should be at home with family is equally paired with you're acting like this because you're addicted to what's on that goddamn screen. you cannot ever actually win, so everything falls within a barter system that you calculate before entering: do you want to learn how to drive? if so, you'll need to give up asking for a new laptop, even though yours died. maybe you can work on a computer at the library. of course, that would mean you'd be allowed to go to the library, which would mean something else has to bleed. nothing ever actually comes free.

and that bitter, horrible irony: you could be literally following their orders and it still isn't pretty. they tell you to get a job; they hate that your job keeps you late and gives you access to actual money. they tell you to do better in school; they say no child of mine needs a tutor. they want you to stop being so morose, don't you know there are people who are really suffering - but they revile the idea you might actually need therapy.

you didn't survive that fall the way other people would. you've seen other people scramble and get their way out, however they could. maybe you were made too-soft: the answer didn't come to you easily. it wasn't quick. it was brutal and nasty. some people even asked you why didn't you just work hard and escape during school? and you felt your head spinning. why didn't you? (they control your financial aid. they control your loan status. they love having that kind of thing). maybe in another life you got diagnosed sooner and got the meds you needed to actually focus and got attention from the right teachers who helped you clear hurdles to get up out of here - but for now? here?

the effort of trying. the effort of not-dying. that kind of effort was absolutely agonizing.

[bird-inacage]

Love Sea the Series: Intro (First Impressions & Predictions)

Because I'm a huge over-analyser whose known for my lengthy BL essays - here are my takeaways from the very brief glimpse we got to Mahasamut and Tongrak. They gave us literally a 1 minute teaser, so as you can imagine, I'm filling in a lot of blanks at this stage.

TONGRAK

Tongrak looks like he's going to be an unapologetic menace. A very sexy and sassy menace. He has an air of blasé indifference which screams 'yeah and so what?' you're not the boss of me'. Someone whose clearly a bit prickly, petulant and headstrong. Writers are often independent or even loners, as it's a very solitary field. They have a very strong vision of what they want, which can mean a reluctance to compromise.

I mentioned that he gives 'I know I'm hot shit' energy. He exudes a confident sexuality which is shown in how assertive he is when flirting and the smugness in how he retorts. He knows he's hot commodity and isn't afraid to flaunt it. Probably is used to having people wrapped around his little finger. 'We play by my rules, I decide if I want you or not'. At worst he may even see people around him as playthings.

Based on the general premise of the series, Tongrak comes to the seaside for inspiration. Uppity cosmopolitan city boy thrown in to the bohemian outdoors. He looks very noticeably out of place in this setting. But he may use that to his advantage, knowing others are looking at him, dazzled by a prince in the middle of literal nowhere.

MAHASAMUT

Now what comes across most strongly about Mahasamut is that he's clearly very possessive. This is signposted multiple times in this brief introduction alone. He steals Tongrak away when he's flirting with someone else. He drags him by the wrist across the beach. I assume at this point they've not known each other long and he's being very handsy and grabby. He asserts that Tongrak 'will have to love him.' (Which could mean: I'll make you fall in love with me whether you like it or not, OR you falling in love with me is inevitable because I'm just too goddamn charming). Pretty presumptuous all the same.

This tells us that Mahasamut is equally self-assured. He has bags of confidence in his ability to keep Tongrak interested. Though he's being turned down, he doesn't appear dissuaded or phased in the slightest. Whether this is due to being generally a bit thick-headed, or putting on a front in order not to let Tongrak feel like he's won, is too early to say.

It's also worth noting that people who have such confidence in their conviction often haven't failed before. And there's a certain naivete in that. It's the whole 'through hard work and determination I can conquer all' mentality, which is not always the case.

RELATIONSHIP DYNAMIC

Now what really fascinates me about this collision of personalities is that these two are going to butt heads. A lot. Whether that's in a good-humoured tug of war, or a stubborn battle of wills. Tongrak is resistant in a 'I refuse to compromise' type of way. Mahasamut is persistent in a 'I refuse to let it go' type of way (like a dog with a bone). Neither wants to give in. Both are declaring, 'you're going to want me'.

So Tongrak and Mahasamut are not your typical match on paper. There will be fireworks (most likely good and bad). It'll probably take them much longer to find equal footing that goes beyond just sexual attraction or lust. This is why I've got a hunch the love scenes are going to pop off. We're going to get angry sex, I'm calling it now.

You could argue that Tongrak and Mahasamut do share some similarities with Sky and Prapai - particularly with the bickering and chasing - just dialled up to 100.

OTHER OBSERVATIONS

ATMOSPHERE: The setting by the sea should prove to be a really interesting way of playing on tone. Watching those two interact whilst the wind blew around them, with the crashing of the waves in the distance was a whole mood.

CONTEXT: This feels leaps and bounds removed from the more grounded setting of Love in the Air. It almost feels like a summer fling. We're getting what appears to be a more adult backdrop, which I always greatly appreciate within the BL genre.

STYLING: Tongrak's outfits are going to murder me. The silky, drapey, billowy, low cut shirts with ample collarbone on show? CHRIST. Paired with the dainty jewellery. Kill me now.

Also, love the fact they were referring to each other as 'MISTER' and 'SIR'. Like SIR, DO YOU MIND? SIR, I'VE GOT A BONE TO PICK WITH YOU. SOMETHING GOT YOU HOT AND BOTHERED, SIR?

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @steddiemicrofic May challenge.

A Room at the Top of the World Tonight

May Prompt: Top | Word Count: 510 | Rating: M | CW: Sex, But Not Very Explicit, Language | Tags: Eddie POV, Established Relationship, Long-Distance Relationship, Rockstar Eddie, Love, Just Love and Softness

Scooting the soft, cushioned bench towards the window has its consequences, and Eddie learns them fast, as the movement jostles the hotel desk, and starts a chain reaction. The lamp comes unplugged from the wall, teetering, trying to hang on for dear life, but it's useless, and it crashes to the floor.

Leaving them in the dark.

Steve laughs, and Eddie says, "Well, shit."

"That'll cost you in a place like this," Steve says, but he reaches for Eddie as he says it, splaying his large hands along Eddie's bare sides, squeezing, and it'll be worth it. It's all worth it.

"I made at least a thousand bucks tonight, I can replace a lamp," Eddie teases, and Steve nuzzles his face against Eddie's neck. His stubble is rough, his five o'clock shadow having set in many, many hours ago by now.

It's late. It always is, after a show. 

And he's tired, but not too tired, because Steve is here tonight. Steve is here, and nothing else will ever matter more than that. Certainly not a broken lamp that he can afford to replace. Honestly, it's been a long time since he's been worried about what's in the bank. He's doing alright. 

He's doing way more than alright.

Because he's got a room at the top of the world tonight, made a thousand times better by Steve being in it.

Steve nudges Eddie forward until he falls onto his knees on the cushioned bench, his palms pressing into the windowpane, catching himself, smudging the glass, as he overlooks the city below.

"Look at where you are," Steve says, his voice in Eddie's ear, his head, his heart. 

And Eddie looks. Really looks.

At the lights. 

At the city.

And then he turns, and looks at Steve.

At Steve, always. The road keeps them apart, physically, at times. But he always feels the love. Knows it, deep in his bones. No questions. No worries. They're good. Solid. Built on a foundation so goddamn sturdy Eddie marvels at it sometimes.

At this thing he helped build. This relationship. This life.

This love.

Eddie knows he can reach out with his heart, and feel Steve's heart sending all that love right back.

So much love.

Steve smiles, and then does some maneuvering, some manhandling, until he has Eddie onto his ass on the seat, facing the window, Eddie's knees pressed against it.

And then Steve crawls on his lap.

"You keep looking," Steve says, and Eddie looks, as Steve touches him, holds him, takes him inside.

Loves him.

And it's a pretty view. But it's not the prettiest one in the room, and Eddie pulls back enough to meet Steve's eyes, looking deep in the eyes of love. 

"I love you," Steve says, up close. Grinding his hips down, slow, in no rush.

"And I love you so," Eddie answers, fingers pressed into Steve's back, into his skin, damp with sweat. It's perfect. It's always perfect, this high he gets, up here, on the precipice.

At the top. 

Where he ain't comin' down.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiemicrofic and follow along with the fun! ❤️

Inspired by this song by Tom Petty:

Which I listened to 17 times in a row. So, apparently it takes me nearly an hour and a half to write 510 words. I'm nothing but efficient, yo.

[sissylittlefeather]

Your Love's Been a Long Time Coming: Chapter 1

A/N: Ahhhhh a new series!!! This is the one that won the poll, so I hope y'all love it! Also, I decided to play with POV on this one, so I'm telling it from Elvis's perspective. Please let me know your thoughts in the comments!!

ICYMI, this is the Elvis x OC Vivian Choquette series. Want to learn more about her? Here.

PS- I love you @ccab for loving Vivian as much as I do before I even write the story!

Warnings: Not much, this is gonna start slow, but trust me, it'll heat up. Kissing, cussing, alcohol use, smoking

Word count: ~2.4k

By September of '59, Elvis was used to the army. He was used to the routine, used to the work, used to the people, used to the fans, and used to looking for a good time wherever he could find it. On this particular night, he found it at a party at his own house in Bad Nauheim. All his friends were there, along with a plethora of girls to keep everyone interested. Elvis moved through the party easily, making small talk and keeping everyone stocked on drinks, despite the fact that he didn't have any himself. Sometimes he imbibed, but usually he didn't. Although his beloved mama was gone, what he learned from her still lived in the forefront of his memory. That is, unless he found himself at the Moulin Rouge. But that was different. Here at his own house, he preferred to remain in control.

Despite having a girlfriend back at home, he moves through the house looking for a girl to talk to. That's when he notices her in a corner, her dark hair swept into a low ponytail and blue eyes glancing lazily around the room. She almost seems bored. So much so that she turns to the bookshelf that came with the house and pulls a book down. She opens it and begins to read. Elvis is intrigued by the kind of woman who reads at a party. He begins to walk over to her and realizes that the book is in French. He panics for a second and then remembers that the guys taught him a phrase in French. Surely he can figure out how to communicate with her. Besides, most of these French girls speak a little English.

He swaggers up to her, ready to try out his French. He stands there in front of her for a minute before she looks up at him.

"Bonjour."

"Mhmm." She looks down at her book, but he doesn't leave. He's suddenly nervous, but he decides to risk it. She's pretty enough that it might be worth it.

"Uhh, est-ce que tu aimes le sexe?"

She looks up at him suddenly and laughs.

"What? Did I pronounce it wrong?" She laughs even harder. When she finally catches her breath, she holds up a hand.

"First of all, I speak English. Second of all, please don't ever say that to anyone ever again."

"Oh. Why?"

"You just asked me if I like sex."

"What?! Those motherfu- I mean, those jerks. They told me it meant 'how are you'."

"And you believed them? It literally has the word 'sex' in it."

"Well, I don't know! I don't speak French!"

"Obviously." She looks back down at her book. He's not ready to give up, though.

"Hey, if you speak English, why are you reading in French?"

"My mother was French. I speak and read it because of her." She answers without looking up from the page.

"Was?"

"She's been gone for a while now. I live with my stepdad. He's an officer in the army." He feels the pain of having lost his mother too soon and looks at her with even more softness and affection than he did before.

"I'm Elvis." She looks up at him.

"I know." He nods and she notices the look he's giving her. "You know, I'm actually here with someone."

"Oh?"

"Mhmm." She points across the party to Charlie, who's making his way to her with drinks.

"Charlie?!"

"Yes."

"Well, goddamn." Charlie makes it over to them and hands her one of the drinks. He throws his arm around her casually and looks up at Elvis.

"Hey buddy. I see you met my lady."

"Well, not officially..." She holds her hand out to him.

"Vivian Choquette. Nice to meet you, Elvis Presley." He takes her hand and has the strangest urge to kiss it, but he'd never do such a thing with Charlie right there. He's been a good friend to Elvis, so no matter how much he likes her, he won't risk their friendship. Instead, he shakes her hand like he would if she was a man.

"Yeah, likewise." Elvis nods awkwardly and then turns to go back to the party. It's too bad that she's there with Charlie. He wanders around a little more, before he sees a girl that will change the trajectory of his whole life. Still, he never forgets the girl he met first.

******

The next day, Elvis sits at lunch with Charlie.

"So what did you think of my girl?" Elvis chokes a little on his food and tries to think of how he can answer without letting on that he hasn't stopped thinking about her.

"Oh, she's... she's somethin' else."

"Ain't she? I saw you talking to that cute little thing though. She seemed like somethin' else too."

"Priscilla? Oh, yeah."

"Little young, though."

"Yeah..." Elvis tries to focus on Priscilla, but all he can think about is Vivian. If she wasn't with Charlie, she'd be exactly what he's looking for. He's not sure how he knows that based on the half of a conversation they had, but something about her just draws him to her. Maybe it's the fact that she seems deeper than most of the girls he's encountered. Maybe it's because she didn't fall all over herself to talk to him. Maybe it's because she understands the pain of losing a parent. Whatever the reason, he can't stop wishing that she hadn't met Charlie first.

******

About three weeks later, Elvis is walking around town and he passes a cafe. He doesn't think much of it until he sees someone he recognizes sitting at one of the little tables. His heart jumps a bit at the thought of talking to her again. Then, he remembers Charlie with his arm around her. He decides to keep walking, but as he gets a little closer, he notices her shoulders are shaking. She's got her long, dark hair in her face, so he can't see her eyes, but it looks like she might be crying. He can't let her sit there alone if that's the case.

He cautiously approaches the table and realizes he was right. Her sniffling is quiet, but he can hear it. She's got a lit cigarette in one hand, and it looks like she's forgotten it's there. Her other hand fiddles with her coffee cup on its saucer. When he gets to her, he's not exactly sure what to do. He didn't have much of a plan beyond walking to the table. After hesitating for a second, he pulls the chair across from her out to sit in, but it makes a horrible screeching sound and she looks up startled.

"What the f-"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry. It's just me."

"God, Elvis, you scared me."

"I'm sorry, honey, can I sit down?" She wipes her face and nods.

"Yeah, sure, I guess so." He sits down across from her and watches as she puts out her cigarette and continues trying to wipe her face clean.

"Are you... are you alright?"

"Ha! Yeah, I'm just fine." She pulls out another cigarette and lights it. They sit in silence for a bit while Elvis tries to think of what to say.

"You sure?" Vivian takes a puff of her cigarette and blows it straight up into the air.

"Do I look alright?" Elvis hesitates. He wants to say that she looks beautiful, but it doesn't feel appropriate.

"You seem upset."

"You're very observant." She responds spitefully. He looks down at his hands in his lap. "I'm sorry; that was rude. You're not the one that cheated on me and abandoned me."

"No... Charlie?" She takes a drag and holds her breath, nodding. Finally, she has to exhale, so she does and then starts to cry again. It's killing Elvis to sit there and watch her cry without doing something about it. He stands up and offers her his hand. "Come on."

"What? Where are we going?"

"My house is only a block from here. You can cry in private." She looks up at him and he can tell she's thinking about saying no. "I won't hurt you. Come on."

She puts her cigarette out and grabs her purse, taking the hand he offered her. They walk in silence to his house, but they continue to hold hands. When he finally gets her settled on the sofa, he sits next to her and leans back, spreading his legs wide. He's trying to indicate that she can relax and sit comfortably too. To his utter shock, she slips her shoes off and tucks her feet up under herself, also getting comfortable.

"So, he cheated on you?"

"Well, I guess that's not exactly fair."

"What do you mean?"

"I was the one he cheated with. Turns out he's been writing letters to another girl for a while."

"Ohhhh... and you found out about it." He thinks about the girl he writes letters to at home. What would she think of him here on the couch with this girl.

"Yes. I didn't want to be the other woman. Besides I thought he... well... it's stupid."

"What did you think?"

"I thought he wanted to marry me." Elvis's eyebrows shoot straight up before he can stop them. He never thought of Charlie as the marrying kind. Then again, he can understand not wanting to let Vivian go. "See, even you think I'm stupid."

"No, I don't. I think you just had hope. There's nothing wrong with that."

"There is if you're me." He sits up and looks into her eyes. The sadness rolling off of her is about to kill him.

"Why do you say that?" She looks up trying to keep herself from crying, but it doesn't work and fat teardrops slide down her cheeks.

"Everybody leaves me. My father left me. Then my mother left me. The first boy I loved. And now Charlie. Why does everyone leave? What's wrong with me?"

He scoots close to her and pulls her into his arms, resting her head on his shoulder. She doesn't object. Instead she lets herself be comforted as she continues to cry. He strokes her hair and kisses the top of her head. The pain of loss is something he's all too familiar with. He takes her face in the palm of his hand and looks into her eyes.

"Viv, this is not your fault. There's nothing wrong with you. I know what it's like to lose people too soon and it hurts. But it's not because of you."

"Why does it feel like no one wants me?" This smashes his heart into a thousand pieces. He wants her so badly it hurts.

"That can't possibly be true." Just tell her. Say it. Say 'I want you.' He wills himself to tell her the truth, but he just can't.

"You're sweet, Elvis." He smiles awkwardly and tries to ignore the fact that she pats his thigh. She leans her head on his shoulder again and snuggles into the side of his body. He knows she's just seeking comfort, so he tries to stay focused on being that. But he is a young man and she is a girl with her hand on his thigh and his imagination is running wild with what would happen if he carried her to his bedroom. He swallows deeply and begs his body not to respond physically to what's in his mind.

Still, there's an electric charge in the air that she has to notice too. Almost at the same time, they pull back and look into each other's eyes. He puts his knuckle under her chin and looks down at her lips. When she closes her eyes, he knows he has the green light, so he leans in and softly presses his lips to hers. Something bubbles up inside him and his hands begin to tremble. He backs up slightly and hovers just above her lips. They both smile and he dives back in for a deeper kiss, dipping his tongue into her mouth to slide against hers. She nibbles on his bottom lip a little and he groans. His hands rest on her hips in an attempt to get them to stop shaking and he eventually lifts her into his lap to straddle him. The intensity of their kissing increases as his hands roam over her body.

Suddenly, she pulls back breathlessly.

"Wait. Elvis, do you have a girlfriend back home?" His mouth pops open. He's not sure how to answer. Yes, he has Anita at home, but for the right girl, for her, he'd end that in a heartbeat. "Answer the question."

"Well... I-I-I..."

"That's all I need to hear." She peels herself off of him and stands up, smoothing her hair.

"No, honey, wait-"

"No. You're basically doing the same thing that Charlie just did. All you G.I.s are the same."

"Hon, please-"

"My name is Vivian!"

"Viv, just, don't leave..." she tries to put her heels back on and stumbles to get the second one on. He uses both hands to steady her as she does.

"Elvis, no. Good luck with Priscilla."

"Wait-?"

"You know she's 14."

"She's 14?!"

"So, you know, have fun with that." Vivian stomps towards the door with him close on her heels. He doesn't know how to make her understand that she's all he wants. Priscilla, Anita, none of them compare to her. But he doesn't know how to say that, so instead he watches as she walks out his front door, catches a cab, and disappears from his life.

******

Or so he thinks. In 1961, Elvis is home from the army and back to his film career. In March, he leaves the continental US to get ready to film Blue Hawaii. He arrives and goes to a cast meeting on set where the director is excited to introduce his costar. His first view of her is from behind and his heart skips. Surely it can't be?

"This is Vivian Choquette. She'll be playing your girlfriend, Maile Duval." She turns to face him and smiles awkwardly. Elvis tries to hide his excitement, hoping his trembling hands won't give him away.

"Hello again..."

******

Until chapter 2. Thoughts so far?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist (let me know if you want to be added or removed):

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

If I have to deal with brain rot about this absolutely awful man, so do y'all! Really looking forward to playing Dead Money so I can torture you with more.

Dean Domino (Fallout: New Vegas, Dead Money DLC) NSFW Headcanons

Is the King of Swing good in bed? Complicated question; he's too selfish to say that he is with any confidence. It depends on the day, frankly. He was a massive slut back in his prime, and he's perfectly well acquainted with how to show you a good time when the two of you are in bed together. Whether or not he cares enough in that moment to bother to make you cum is an entirely different matter. There are days he wants to show off, wants to hear you tell him how good he is, but there are also plenty of days where he'll happily use your body to jerk himself off and won't think for a second about your pleasure beyond what it'll do for him. On days like that, he wants you wet/stretched enough to take him, but that's all he cares about.

I've discussed this with folks a bit in replies on other posts, but I think it's very worth elaborating on: he would be so fun to dominate. He'd be the world's most petulant, bratty sub, and so confident that you wouldn't be able to break him, that he'll stay cool and in control of the situation, no problem. However, he's sorely mistaken. Dean Domino is a brat who was made to be broken. Tie his ass up and beat him a bit. Edge him until he literally cries. He insists he won't beg; prove him wrong. It's the sweetest sight you've ever taken in. I've never met a single character who needs to have his cock slapped like a million times more than him. And honestly, I think if you gave him the full routine and then treated him completely neutrally over the proceeding few days, as if nothing had even happened, he'd beg then, too, desperate to experience what you made him feel again...though not without a lot of petulant bitching first. How dare you act like you can drag him around by his prick, just because you absolutely can if you do it right...?!

Any ongoing relationship with Dean is going to be a constant power struggle. As insecure as he obviously is, he's forever rearing to "put you in your place" in a litany of ways; talking down to you, insulting you flippantly, all the nonsense you see from him when you interact with him in-game. If you don't push back at him (or show him where his place is, per the previous point), he will absolutely walk all over you, including sexually. Maybe that's what you're into. He doesn't really care all that much as long as he's getting whatever he wants out of you.

Biter. Always has been. Used to get a kick outta fucking actors and actresses and just covering them in bite marks and bruises that would be incredibly difficult to cover with makeup, because he likes attention and he's possessive, even of toys he doesn't particularly want to play with anymore.

Almost never takes off those goddamn sunglasses (because, in my mind, he thinks they make him harder to read...plus, he has super light-colored eyes, and once he's traveling the desert, he's constantly blinded by the sun), but one of the rare times you can guarantee he'll remove them is when you're giving him head. He wants to be able to see every detail of you worshiping him with your lips and tongue.

Obviously he's big into degradation, which is clear in the way he speaks to you, about you and others. He can, however, be persuaded to be rather sweet (though still entirely self-aggrandizing) when he's in a good mood. He'll tell you how gorgeous you look...on his cock. What a pretty voice you have...why don't you sing for him some more so he can hear how good he makes you feel? Every compliment also has to basically be a positive comment to himself, as well.

Leg and ass man. He makes some comments about Vera that hint at this, but he's not usually quite so tactful about it. Will openly grope you in public, both to embarrass you a bit and because he doesn't care enough to hold back when he feels like touching you.

Really enjoys a giving you a good cum facial. He finds it just the right mix of disgusting, dominating, and possessive. If he can find a way to force you to keep his cum on your face, he will. Even better if someone else sees you that way.

[vicsnook]

Driving You Home Pt. 2 | Scott Miller x Reader

word count: 2967

warnings: Smut, 18+, unprotected p in v

notes: Hello! Here is part 2 as promised of Never Left Me. I’m sorry that I left y’all hanging with that cliffhanger but I swear the slowburn is so worth it. Hope you enjoy & please don’t forget to like+reblog 🫶🏼.

The sound of rain and Scott cursing wakes me up and I realize I’ve been asleep for a while since it’s now dark outside. Looking around I realize we’re stopped somewhere along the highway and he’s standing outside in the rain yelling at someone on the phone. Guess some things never change.

We make eye contact and I shoot him a pointed look, my brow arched and he shakes his head. I unbuckle myself and step outside and immediately regret it as the cold rain hits my skin.

“So,” I say, approaching Scott as he finally hangs up, “What’s going on?” and the look he gives me is enough to make me want to get back in the SUV.

“We have a flat, Y/N and Goddamn Triple A can’t get here for another 2 fucking hours.” He says, kicking the very flat tire and I have to hold back a laugh.

I calmly walk to the trunk and pop it open, shoving our bags to the side and pulling up the floor mat and low and behold the spare is there and a jack sits right beside it.

“Hey smarty pants, come give me a hand!” I yell to Scott and he rolls his eyes but still helps me pull the tire out. Thankfully it looks like it’s in good condition. “You know how to change a tire?”

He feigns offense. “Of course, but I’d rather not in this rain.”

“Scott, you’re a terrible liar. Pass me the lug wrench and step back.”

“The what?”

I look up at him and notice the slight blush in his cheeks. Of course, he’s probably never changed a tire in his life.

30 minutes later I’m drenched but the new tire is on and the old one is back in the trunk. “Let’s get this show on the road,” I say, eager to get out of the rain.

Scott turns on the heater as we get back in and I shoot him a grateful smile. “Uh, thanks for changing the tire.” He says awkwardly as we pull back out onto the highway.

I shrug. “It was nothing. Should we pull off and get some rest? There’s a motel a few miles from here.”

“Sure thing,” he replies and then we sit in silence ‘til he pulls up to the motel.

-

“Sorry man, but we only have one room left.” The hotel clerk tells Scott and I watch as he winces as if it pains him to share a room with me. “Well, is it a double bed at least?”

I watch the hope shatter from his face as the clerk tells him it’s a single queen bed. He looks at me and I shrug my shoulders so he turns around and tells the clerk that we’ll take it.

The walk back to the SUV is silent and as we gather the bags I can’t help the laugh that escapes me. “What?”

“Nothing, sorry it’s been a long day.” I respond, not wanting to tell him the real reason, which is that we seem to be a living book trope.

I follow him into the room and set my bag on the shabby desk and watch as he takes off his still damp shirt. My eyes trailing through his body shamelessly. Why does he have to look like a Greek God?

“Hey, take a picture, it'll last longer.” He says, snapping me out of my trance and I can feel my cheeks heating up. He smirks at me and heads to the bathroom to I assume take a shower and I can’t help the thoughts that creep into my mind. Stop it! You’re supposed to hate his guts.

When Scott comes out of the bathroom, I look up from my book only to be met with only a towel hanging loosely from his waist and water still dripping from his chest. Lord please have mercy on me. His hair is curly and it takes everything in me not to cross the room and run my hands through it so instead I grab my bag and run into the now empty bathroom.

I shiver under the cold shower since Scott used up all the hot water but the cold water seems to help with my steamy thoughts. Well maybe not. I get dressed and slowly do my nightly routine to avoid spending time with Scott. When I finally emerge back into the room to a thankfully dressed Scott, he’s laying on the bed reading a book.

“Took you long enough. What you couldn’t stop thinking about me naked?” He asks, as I set my stuff by the door and the urge to smack him or fuck him consumes me.

“In your dreams dipshit. I’m going to sleep.” I reply, laying on the bed as far from him as I can.

He clears his throat and I turn to look at him and notice he’s holding some chips and a soda out to me. “Figured you’d be hungry and this was the only thing at the vending machine.”

“Uh, thanks,” I murmur and he nods, returning to his book. My stomach is in knotts as I try to eat because my body is too aware of the man sitting next to me. There was a time I wouldn’t have hesitated to act on my thoughts but that was before he got me fired.

I hear him breathing beside me while I scroll through my phone and it makes me want to scream. Although the meanest thing he’s ever done to me was get me fired I’d rather be stuck with anyone else.

“I’m gonna get some fresh air,” I say, getting up from the bed and walking to the door. “Wait up, I think I’ll get some too,” Scott replies, getting up too. Fucking hell I can’t get away from him.

“No!” I yell, before thinking and he stops, looking at me like I’ve grown another head or something. “I just need some space, okay?”

His face falls as I say that and honestly I feel terrible but it’s true. I don’t trust myself around him. He nods and gets back in the bed and I walk outside, softly shutting the door behind me.

I lean against the door and take a few deep breaths reminding myself that stopping for the night was my idea. The night air is cool and I walk over to the SUV and try the handle and lucky me it’s unlocked.

I recline back in the passenger seat and close my eyes trying to calm my thoughts and before I know it I’ve fallen asleep. Light knocking on the window startles me awake what feels like a few minutes later but according to Scott it’s been an hour.

“You’re not going to sleep in here to avoid sharing a bed with me, are you? Cause if that’s the case I’ll take the car or the room floor.” He says, and I look into his eyes and can tell he’s being sincere which makes me feel like an even bigger asshole.

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep here but really I have no problem sharing the bed with you so long as you stay on your side,” I say, getting out of the vehicle and following him back to the room. “Scout’s honor.” He replies, holding up three fingers and I chuckle.

We lay with our backs turned to each other and I hope he can’t feel my heart racing. I close my eyes and try to keep my thoughts away from anything inappropriate and very quickly I fall asleep.

-

I wake up to Scott sitting up on the bed reading and all I can think about is how handsome he looks. Stop it!

Then I think of how bad my hair probably looks and it’s enough to send me tumbling into the bathroom where I find he’s left my bag on the floor for me. Why is he being so nice? ugh

I shower quickly, grateful for the hot water and do my morning routine and by the time I’m packing everything into my bag there’s a soft knock on the door. Scott’s holding a brown bag with what I assume is breakfast when I open it and my stomach involuntarily growls with hunger.

“Perfect timing.” He says, chuckling as I take the bag and sit in the bed while he goes and gets ready for the day and before I can embarrass myself by oogling at him, I decide to wait for him in the car.

-

We drive off and the silence between us is peaceful. Only broken when he needs directions. I feel a spark of relief as we pass the Oklahoma welcome sign. There truly is no place like home.

“What’s going on in that brain of yours?” Scott asks, as we drive by the fields of the place I know we both adore.

“I’m just thinking about how glad I am to be home,” I answer truthfully. “No place really compares to here.”

“I agree. Also, I’m sorry about how things ended between us. I was an asshole and work really isn’t the same without you.” He says, “Or the team.” and I eye him from the corner of my eye and see how tense he is. Apologizing never came easy to Scott so he really must mean it.

“Uh thanks. For what it’s worth, maybe it was for the best. I’m happier now with the wranglers.”

He rolls his eyes and looks at me in disbelief. “You can’t possibly enjoy spending time with those hillbillies.”

“I do. Way more than I ever enjoyed spending time with you,” I spat, defensively and I can see a flash of hurt that he quickly covers with a scowl. So much for getting along.

“Suit yourself,” he responds, pulling off the highway and onto a dirt road. Huh?

“What are you doing?” I ask, aggravated. All I want is to be home and away from him. He turns to look at me and I feel a shiver go through me when I notice his slight smirk.

“We’re not going anywhere until you admit you like me more than Tyler,” He tells me and I notice that this isn’t about the wranglers. This is about us and his ego.

“I never said anything about Tyler.”

“Look me in the eye and tell me you want him more than me. That you don’t miss riding with me and hoping I’d pull over and have my way with you.” He says, and I realize maybe I haven’t been hiding the way I feel as good as I thought. Or Javi fucking snitched.

“You’re delusional Scott. Take me home.” I say, avoiding his eyes and toying with my phone which he takes out of my hands. “Hey!”

“We’re not going anywhere until you answer me, sweetheart.”

I look up at him and I know I’m trapped. I’m the world’s worst liar so plan B it is. Turning away I pull open my door and step out the car, ready to walk back to the highway and hitch a ride. Or get Scott to quit being a baby.

The sound of his door slamming behind me does little to stop me as I pull my bag from the trunk. Until he reaches over and takes my bag and throws it back in. “Stop it Scott! You either take me home or I’ll walk there.” I spat, annoyed at his little game but all he does is laugh at me.

“What’s so funny?”

“That you’d rather walk home than admit you want me.”

“Oh fuck off Scott.” I say, turning away from him and walking back to the passenger seat but he cages me against the back door instead. His warm breath on the back of my neck sends shivers down my spine.

“All you have to say is that you don’t and I promise I’ll drive you home immediately after.” He whispers in my ear but the words are trapped in my throat. I turn to face him and his face is stoic. Fuck, maybe I should’ve stayed facing away from him.

His thumb presses on my bottom lip and pulls it down slightly and our eyes are locked onto each others in a silent war of who’ll give in first. Oh screw it, I think closing the distance between us and kissing him.

His hands immediately find my waist and pull me even closer to him as I run my fingers through his hair and he moans into my mouth as I tug at the ends of it. This man will be the death of me.

He pulls us off the side of the car, still kissing me and I hear as he pulls the back door open. Wordlessly I follow him into the small backseat, pulling the door shut behind me.

I straddle his lap as our kisses become desperate, months of pining and anticipation all coming through. He nips at my bottom lip and I can’t help the moan that escapes my mouth and he takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into my mouth.

My hands are grabbing fistfuls of his shirt as his wander under mine and I feel like my body might explode. He pauses his wandering to help me take off his shirt, buttons flying everywhere.

We stare at each other briefly, our chests quickly going up and down while we try to catch our breath. His hand caresses my cheek and I lean into his touch as I run my fingers down his chest and his very nice abs.

He pulls me closer and rocks me against him and I can’t help the moans that escape. He grins, trailing kisses down my neck. I pull back to help him pull off my shorts and he slides his fingers into my underwear, circling my clit immediately and I nearly scream.

“You ready to admit you want me, honey?” He drawls, as he quickens his pace on my clit and I nearly come undone.

“Shut up and fuck me Scott,” I reply, panting as he edges me closer and closer to my release.

“Tell me baby, tell me it’s always been me,” He says, rocking me against him as he continues drawing circles on my clit and before I can answer I come undone.

My body shakes in pleasure as he coaxes me through my orgasm and all I can think is that I want him. Now.

“It’s always been you, Scott.” I finally manage to say as I come down from my high and the smile that lights up his face as I say that, warms my heart.

But I don’t have time to dwell on it as he pulls me off his lap to undo his jeans and I take the opportunity to undo my bra and pull off my underwear.

His lips are on my nipple as soon as the bra comes off and I moan loudly as he sucks on one and plays with the other. “You like that, baby?”

“Mhmm”

I stroke him and he puts his hand on mine making me go faster and I smile when he closes his eyes and moans my name.

But then he stops me and crashes his lips on to mine, pulling me up and then easing me back down onto him. I moan in his ear as he lifts me and guides me up and down repeatedly. “Le-t m-e ride y-ou,” I finally manage to stutter and he stills us.

And just like that I’m riding him like a stallion that needs to be broken in. We both groan as I set the pace, his lips on mine and then on my neck as I ride him, chasing my high.

He stills me for a second and slides his hand between us, catching on my clit and making circles as I resume the pace and it takes everything in me not to come right then and there.

“Goddammit Y/N,” He growls in my ear as I reach my orgasm, fluttering on him and he takes over fucking me through it and my mind is blank with pleasure.

“That’s it baby girl, cum for me” He says, as I start to come down from my high. “I’m almost there baby, can you hold on?”

I nod and he lays me down on the seat and I put my hands on his shoulders as he slowly slides in and out. The feeling is almost too much. “It’s okay baby, almost there” He coos.

And as he increases his pace my legs tighten around his waist and my nails dig into his back. Both our moans fill the car and I hope that no one lives near here as I scream his name and he comes in me, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he does.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that,” Scott says, his hand caressing my cheek and I smile feeling my cheeks blush at his revelation.

“I’ve thought about it for a while too,” I admit and he grins as he pulls out and slides a towel under me.

He cleans me up carefully, trailing kisses as he goes and my walls slowly chip away as he does. Finally my shirt is on and I’m fully dressed and he pulls me in for a soft kiss and I melt against him.

“Now let’s get you home so we can do that again,” he tells me, winking as he closes my door. I shake my head, grinning,and watch him get onto the drivers side in his semi open shirt thanks to the missing buttons.

And now I hope the car ride goes fast. But for other reasons entirely.

[do-you-know-this-adhd-character]

Do you know this (noncanon) ADHD character?

Evidence below the cut!

He regularly forgets things and is late. Comes across as extremely scattered, stereotypically childish and hyperactive to begin with, like all speedsters is extremely intelligent and lives on a frequency much faster than other people so paying attention or waiting or doing one thing at a time is extremely difficult. His first solo comic opened with the introduction "Bart Allen, poster child for the judgement impaired" and went on to back that up repeatedly. It includes such jems as him not being able to pay attention long enough in class so he tunes out, a teacher asking what she was talking about and him taking it literally and listing the topics she covered. She calls him a smarty-pants (it's very 90's) and when he starts to say he "That wasn't what you wanted? I wasn’t trying to-" she responds that he's very trying. This is his first day in public school. Idk personally that hit hard. Later it talks about how his cousin named his behaviour pattern the "single synapse theory" because Bart goes from one action to the next, no pause between to consider if there will be consequences. And like. DC. That is literally how ADHD works my dudes plz just admit it at this point its been decades. Hes not allowed in Gotham anymore bc he genuinely upsets the rouges there with how much he talks and just manages to annoy them into giving up (not on purpose either, they're just mean to my boy) he's actually done that to the Joker twice.

In his callback intro in the og Young Justice comics he full on forgets he can vibrate through solid material and is stuck in tar for ages till he's talking about it, so we get "ow it hurts" "okay, you're heating the tar. It'll burn. Stop." "ow" "stop" "ow" "stop" "ow" "stop! So who named you impulse?" he's so smart but so dumb and btw his response is that Batman gave him the name and he doesn't know why, then after a second asks if he was being funny. Never stopped to consider if there was a reason behind the name. There are so many more but at that point I might as well hand over the Impulse and Young Justice comic runs and any time a flash writer remembered he exists, his name is literally IMPULSE because the goddamn Batman took one look and could already tell. Plz love my dude he's so worth it I promise

[freyito]

9ꜱ, 2ʙ, ᴀ2, ᴀᴅᴀᴍ, & ᴇᴠᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴄᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴀ ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ ꜰᴛᴍ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

so! self indulgent. way self indulgent. getting this outta my head before it drives me CRAZY!!!! i know mk is like my hyperfixation rn but, i really love love love drakengard and nier. and Nier: Automata was the first game I played of the series. OBVIOUSLY this is beyond canon divergent, but i was thinking... (aside from 2b and a2) these guys probably know transgenderism and stuff but like... how would they react when PRESENTED with that yknow yknow... ANYWAYS PLAY NIER AUTOMATA (AND REPLICANT), REAL GOOD GAMES

cw: sfw, fluff, implied romantic feelings (no relationship), SPOILERS, so so so beyond canon divergent, male reader, afab, not proofread.

9S

Nines is curious by nature. He's studied on humans and the human condition. Almost terrifyingly so. He's actually so so so interested in the fact that your trans. Not in a creepy way. Androids have no need to identify, really. And when they wish to be perceived differently, it's quite literally as simple as the switch of a button.

So, to not only be housing a human at the bunker, but one as interesting as you... boy, you are in for so many questions. So. Goddamn. Many. He's curious about your body- but don't take it in a perverted sense. Simply, what do the hormones do? How does your body balance it out? It's all sooooo sooooooo interesting.

He'll even ask if you could lift your shirt for him. He's so unaware of boundaries and proper etiquette, it hurts. But he simply wants to see the scars. Why? Dunno. It'll satisfy his curiosity. Maybe a little more! Nines just wants to know you more intimately. Yes, he knows allll about humans. But he doesn't know about you. He cannot hide it.

2B

2B keeps her distance about the topic. Out of respect, but also, she still prioritizes her mission over you. Unfortunately. Though, at the very edge of her mind, she has all sorts of questions. Mainly about how society would've treated you. Perhaps you are not of those times, but she is deeply aware of the prejudice of the past civilizations.

But, some days, she lurks by your room, too afraid to wander in. She is afraid of her own curiosity. You do not get to see her much, seeing as it is forbidden to bring you down to earths surface, in fear of losing the last human to exist. You are too precious. To her, yes. But to YoRHa, as well. She will not admit those feelings, however.

She does find her courage somewhere, simply asking how it feels. An odd question, from an Android as straightforward as her. But nonetheless, you indulge in her curiosity. And if you were to ask why she's asking? She'll brush it off. It is important to the mission. You are important to the mission. It is important that she understands.

A2

A2 does not care much for humanity. She shows barely any interest in you, even if the rumors of you spread like wildfire amongst the resistance and the machine network. She's lost her purpose, there's not much to care about, aside from her well-being. So why would she care for an interesting anomaly like you?

Why, she asks, when she finds herself seeking you out at the resistance camp. Locked away in a make-shift room while waiting for transport to the bunker. This is her last chance, she knows. She also knows it is dangerous, but she figures it'll be worth it. The last human remaining, something she had thought was long dead. A lie. That's really what she thought you were.

Yet, A2 is surprised to see that you are very very real, and the honest truth. It does not reignite her flame for her mission, but something within her swells. She simply stares at you, almost expectantly. She does not say a word. You can just barley see an ounce of curiosity and excitement behind that flat expression. And when you open your mouth to speak, she walks out of the room, and away. That is the last you saw of her.

Adam

Adam knows almost as much as Nines does. Maybe even more. He caught wind of your existence when one of the stubbies near SCREAMED across the network. He was quick to pick you up before the Androids did. He even created you a nice little room within the copied city. Something like home, no doubt. Or at least, a resemblance of it. He stays every present, not once does he leave you alone. He even stations a Biped by you that he can tap into.

He peppers you with questions on the daily, yet still keeps a maximum of thirty. He's logging your existence. He's actually worshipping it, really. Some sort of pseudo-god in a wasteland. He's so very respectful about his questions and knows when to lay-off, as much as his mind burns with questions.

At the end of the day, though, Adam's practically on his knees, begging to see just how your body has held up. He wants to see what testosterones done, he wants to see this marvelous thing called "top surgery", he wants to see it all. ONLY if you allow him too, of course. Regardless, you are stuck with him and his brother until his inevitable demise.

Eve

Eve was actually the first to find you once that stubby alerted the machine network of a human. Yet, before he could even touch you, his brother had whisked you away to the copied city. Only there did you get to meet Eve in full. He is a lot less contained than his brother, most days he spent leaning over your (uncomfy) bedside, asking you all sorts of questions. About how it feels to be human, what hurts more (like if he threw a block at you or a machine at you!), he is less so interested in your identity.

But when he connects the dots, oh boy. More questions. More and more as the days go by. When his brother isn't there, he's asking alllll about your anatomy. Why can't you switch it so easily like he could? Wait, that's a silly question, he knows the answer. Did you know in old civilizations you we-

Adam shuts Eve up real quick before his questions can border insulting. He means you no harm, and actually he feels kind of hurt if he insults you! He's just so damn curious and he has to know allll about you. For now, you are the second most important thing in his new life, something he would willingly go to this thing called hell- you know that place, right?- for you. And back!

© nervouzwreck, 2023 | masterlist | queue

[discodeviant]

[AO3]

They've been dating for a week, give or take. Billy called himself Steve's boyfriend once, like, a month ago, but said he was kidding when Steve stopped blinking. Then Steve did the same. "You're my boyfriend, come on, it'll be nice."

So, yeah, they're dating, and now they're counselors at Dustin's stupid summer camp because he talked Steve into going with him this year, and Billy doesn't want to waste a goddamn second of his summer without the boy he'd been chasing for a year straight.

Sneaking around is easy when they're both experienced for vastly different reasons. They take a tent into the woods one night and get back to the cabins before morning. Share a bed when no one's looking. A shower once or twice.

And then the counselors have an adults-only night in front of the bonfire once the kids have gone to sleep, decide to play Truth or Dare because it's fun and scandalous.

It's Billy's turn. He chooses dare because he never turns down a challenge.

A blind kiss. Put on a blindfold, spin ten times, kiss whoever he stumbles into. Can't chicken out or choose the hottest girl with the most makeup and biggest tits because that's cheating.

And, well...

Billy doesn't like to play fair either.

So he drops his bandana over his eyes, lets Kevin Something-or-Other spin him around until he's off balance. Everyone's waiting for him to crash into someone, or for someone else to let him fall flat on his stupid, sexy, California face.

Steve's heart hasn't beat this hard since the first cigarette they shared, and Billy can smell his jealous anxiety like a bloodhound.

He knows his pretty boy's scent anywhere. Knows where his cologne ends and the next girl's perfume begins even after three days in the woods. Knows the sound of his breaths when they stutter and hope for something that he thinks is too good for him.

So Billy doesn't crash.

No, he stands tall and feels the ground with the thin, flat sole of his old, worn Converse shoe. He remembers that Steve is sitting on the log to the left of the one a little higher up than the others. He takes his time, deliberate to him, teasing and putting on a show for his peers, scaring Steve shitless because he still doesn't know whether Billy has decided that he's not worth his time by now.

And the closer Billy gets to him, the harder his heart pounds, the hotter his face feels. So goddamn close, so fucking close to falling into that girl who's been making eyes at him since camp started. And she's still eyeing him, leaning in Billy's favor in case the girl next to her—Emma or something—will give her what she wants.

And the closer Billy gets, the more he can smell Steve's insecurity. Steve's months-long crush that finally, finally came to something, and the fear that he'd have his heart broken again.

But Billy knows his pretty boy, his pretty boy's faded hairspray, his pretty boy's want—his need—to make goddamn sure Billy's still his. The air around him is tense, and Billy can feel the knotting between his shoulders from three steps, two steps, one step away.

Billy's hands reach out and find the head of hair he's felt and smelled and tasted so much already, and he leans down to kiss the lips he's dreamed about since last Halloween, has kissed some-hundred times.

Steve's heart nearly stops.

He doesn't lurch forward and pull Billy in as much as he really, desperately fucking wants to; instead he sits still, lets Billy hold both sides of his face, kiss him as tenderly as he always does with the tip of his tongue to taste what he hasn't for hours.

The others laugh and gasp and clap, and Billy takes his blindfold off with a wink, promises silently to make it up to Steve for scaring him later when they're alone.

Later, Steve asks, "Seriously, could you see? How did you—"

"Baby," Billy says, "I wouldn't be caught dead kissing anybody else." They whisper even in their solitary tent, under an unzipped sleeping bag, tangled up in each other. "I like you too much."

Steve just sighs and kisses him again, and again, and again, and again, and Billy kisses him back twice as hard, rolls on top of him, kisses him some more.

"You're mine, Harrington," he says, and Steve pulls him in by the waist, smiling against his mouth, and he is so happy.

"All yours?"

"All mine."

[caxycreations]

No good deed goes un-fucking-punished.

Long rant below, feel free to ignore.

I own a collector's item. A commemorative Dragon Ball Xenoverse 2 Super Saiyan Goku statue.

I won it from a raffle at a premier showing of Dragonball Super: Broly, years ago.

It's worth $130-$300 out-of-box.

My brother found it, and has sent it out to me. It'll be here in a few days, and then I can sell it to help with expenses. I'll need one of my roommates to sell it on ebay for me, as I can't.

I tell my roommate Fox this, and she says cool, and moves on, doesn't care.

I tell my roommate Jack this, and his response was worse.

"Don't sell it". Led to a talk about it, and he spent the entire time judging me for selling it because "it's a memento, it's a reminder of a happy event, you're selling your happies, that's not good, you shouldn't do that-" motherfucker this statue doesn't remind me of the day I got it, it reminds me of the person who bought the damn raffle ticket, and that reminds me of being locked in a fucking box for six months.

I don't WANT this statue. The things that statue reminds me of are lies, manipulations, and abuse.

I told him that, and he says this: "You and Fox can NOT keep using one person as an excuse for all your bad shit."

So me trying to help the household by selling the most expensive item I own so that we can AFFORD TO FUCKING EAT, is a bad thing because I'm selling something that SHOULD, according to Jack, make me happy and giddy thinking of a good day, and because it instead reminds me of Nyx (which is outside my control mind you), I'm in the wrong because I shouldn't associate Nyx, the man who basically imprisoned me for six months in a room with his dogs, with negative things because that's just petty.

FUCK'S SAKE

I can't fucking do anything right can I?

I bust my ass on avatar comms and get people refunding because it's taking too long.

It's taking too long because I can't afford fucking food and I can't work if I'm sitting here doubled over with hunger pains.

So I quit doing avatar comms.

I try to do art comms. Nobody wants art comms within my ability, they all want charcoal paintings or mech work, or $300 worth of oil painting and I'm barely able to do fucking SHADING.

So I quit bothering with art comms. I try to do story comms.

Nobody wants story comms. I can barely get interest in the work I put out there for FREE, let alone get people paying me to write.

I try to do a halloween-themed YCH, and I get so, so many likes, and a few reblogs from friends, but ZERO interest. 83 views on Furaffinity, not one favorite, not one comment. Hundreds of views on deviantart. Not one like, not one comment. Never even reached any accounts on instagram except for ONE friend of mine.

I try, and I try, and I try, and I try, and I fucking try.

I try to earn money, I try to work, I try to do good, I try to be better, and it never fucking gets me anywhere because in the best cases, nobody fucking cares, and in the worst cases, it finds active opposition.

I try to be positive, I try to keep it happy and friendly and uplifting and it never means a goddamn thing.

So why the fuck do I even bother anymore?

[softness-and-shattering]

Sad disability hours over here.

Yknow when the disability is disabling, and has been for a very long time?

And you're feeling a few scraps better and you want to reach out to people because you're so goddamn lonely but you've forgotten how to be social (how to mask?) especially casually over text. And because of the disability being disabling there's not really many options for socialising activities. To like, invite someone to.

And. People aren't super responsive over text anyway.

And. Things are so hard to do. And youre well enough to want so deeply but not well enough to succeed fulfill etc.

And I'll get there and it'll take time it just hurts. And it's aggravating. And rn yeah I'd like to not be disabled thanks I've had enough. I've had enough and this isnt working. Can we fast forward this eternal recovery *why* do we have to go through every excruciating step *because if we skipped we'd miss the roses and the yknow life of if all* but ugh

It would be so much easier to just get angry and blame other people and become an asshole. And no shade to people who are angry, it's justified.

I just don't want to be a cranky asshole. And that's so goddamn difficult and painful sometimes. Like no I'm not gonna put up those defence/offences because that's not who I want to be. But things are just gonna suck for a while till I improve enough to really start fulfilling those wants. Needs.

This better fucking be worth it. Argh it is angst town I do not enjoy this stop.

[felix-lupin]

I hate going to the dentist or the doctor's or whatever because every single time they're like

"And how often do you brush your teeth?"

And I'm really really bad at forming habits. Absolute garbage at it. It's really hard for me to start doing something and then maintain it as routine, and that's if I even REMEMBER to do it. IF I even remember, I still need to scrounge up the motivation to do it. I've never in my life been able to maintain a routine of brushing my teeth twice a fucking day, but there's been a few times where, with enough effort, I've been able to maintain a routine of once a day.

So I look at them, and I'm like, "I brush my teeth about once a day," and I'm proud of myself, a little, because I know it was really hard for me to get there, and once a day is better than nothing, right?

But they look at me, and every time they're like, "Well, you really should be brushing your teeth twice a day." And any amount of pride I might've had is gone, washed away and drowned out by shame, instead, because even my best isn't good enough. Even when I've managed to get something, they look at me and they're like "You should do more."

And they'll lecture me on it, tell me that once a day isn't enough. They'll tell me to at least try to brush my teeth twice a day, not once, and they'll present it like it's such a reasonable request. Like, this is the bare minimum, this isn't hard to do, it's easy, you should at least try to do it.

And because the shame is too much, and I don't want to look like I'm not trying, because I AM, I'm trying my best, and I don't want to say no because then it'll look like I'm just lazy, not willing to put in the effort. So I'll say okay, and I'll agree. And when I go home, I brush my teeth and maybe I'll brush my teeth twice a day for two or three days, and then I'll miss it. It's too emotionally/slash mentally draining to keep up the habit, or I didn't have the time, or some other reason, but I'll miss it.

And then, instead of being able to go back to brushing my teeth once a day, keeping that small, basic thing so that I have at least some upkeep on my teeth, I feel so much shame and dejection, I feel like such a useless failure, that I just.. Stop. I stop doing even that basic upkeep. I don't brush my teeth for fucking months, until it gets bad enough that they start to hurt and even then I'm like, why should I even try to get back into the habit? It's not worth it. It's not enough. It'll never be enough.

My best will never be enough for those people. I'll brush my teeth once a day, and they'll say, well, it should really be twice a day, as if I don't already know. I'll clean a small portion of my room, organize my desk or take out the trash or clean the closet, and they'll say, well, you should really clean the whole thing. I'll walk for twenty or thirty minutes while my legs hurt nearly the whole time, and then it gets bad enough I have to sit down, and they'll say, well, you really shouldn't sit here or you're wasting time or come on, it's not even that long, you should be able to walk for this long. or you're being dramatic, just believe in yourself!

I'm tired of it. I'm tired of my needs being dismissed, my best efforts being dismissed as not good enough when it's so hard for me to do that much. I hate it, and I hate how even though I know that I'm trying my goddamn best I can't fully erase the shame, not truly. It sits in the back of my brain like a parasite, eating away at my motivation to do things, to try my best. Consuming it until the shame just crushes and paralyzes me, and then I can't get myself to do anything like that at all, can't even try to put in the bare minimum, let alone my best. Because my best isn't good enough, will never be good enough, and it'll never get rid of the shame.

[collegetennisoriginstory]

OK. UM. first of all, hiiii! <3 ok lemme just gush a lil bit:

1. I LOVE UR FIC OHMYGOD HOLY SHIIIIIIIT

2. god, i don't even have the slightest idea of how tennis works, but this is just so????? like?????? you know. and i kinda get how the play goes?? YOU'RE AN AMAZING WRITER GOSH.

3. i actually remembered most of the characters?? considering there's a lot of em, this is practically a miracle. again, you're goddamn amazing. i dont know how. maybe the pace is great, but definitely THE CHARAS ALL HAVE PERSONALITY/DEPTH??? like, i actually even remembered the side charas!!! mike, thalia, diego, felix, that cool ass girl in that shooting game, etc. umh just perfecto.

4. THE TENNIS MATCHES ALL FEEL SO SATISFYING!!! <3333333 omg. i feel like WUOOOOOH u know. i feel so cool playing a cool talented mc omg im loving it (i play a i-win-everything type of mc becuz im a perfectionist with a fear of failure) the matches me on edge in my seat oh gosh <3 and when u win it somehow just go WOOOOOOOH again!!! AAAAAA<3

5. aw, and of course, my beloved rivals to lovers rayyan <3333 *sigh* the slowburn.... (hes actually my first & only one. i go: ohhh tension!?!? and make a run for it. um, if it's ok to ask, is there a lot of content in the romance area as of now or in the future? like, replayability in terms of romance? im sorry if this is rude, i didnt mean to, i suck at words & i wont ask that again.)

6. FOUND FAMILY YAY! FOUND FAMILY YAY! <33333 (we genuinely lack those in the if community pls.) soulmates w/ sam. ride or die diego. very reluctant ride or die G (imma be honest, his name is just so hard so my head for some reason just go Guacamole 😭). aww tobin u very big cinammon roll ill protect u. shenanigans. & others too many to name honestly.

7. help this is just so good i had to force myself to sleep at 3am for a 7am lecture and i sat in the front rows and i put my head on the table and the fricking professor called me out ohmygod- BUT IT WAS WORTH IT GODDAMN!! ILL DO IT AGAIN IF I HAVE TO! HA! i cant wait for the next update- i'm gonna have this fic in my head for the next week oh pls noooooo. (no pressure tho. u do u author! take ur time!!! ill be here to support u, whoo!)

8.ALL IN ALL, I LOVE IT I LOVE THIS I LOVE EVERYONE I LOVE YOU AUTHOR *runs over & hug you w/ consent* <333333333333

ok. um. that's not it but if i continue it's literally gonna be an essay so i'll stop.

author. i will die for this fic. ahaahahahah. if i may ask, what's ur fav IFs? (i really, really love this one so im kinda hoping maybe u have similar taste in IFs eheh. again, im sorry if this comes as rude or insensitive.) oh uh & if my long rambles bother u, i won't send it again sorry.

<333 okok. take care of urself, dont forget to eat healthy, drink water & good sleep. have a nice day :D

Wait. I think I might have missed replying to this I am so sorry!!! It gave me so so much joy. Maybe I subconsciously did not want it to leave my inbox haha.

1. And 2 -> THANK YOU!

3. Gosh this is such a great thing to hear. There are a looot of characters, and I definitely worry sometimes that it gets to be too much, but I think the IF is getting long enough for me to give enough-ish screentime to each character... though it takes me a while to cycle back to different side characters. I cant believe you remembered the cool ass girl in laser tag! :)

4. AWESOME to hear! 🥰

5. Yup, being a character driven IF, there will be a lot of romance (or friendship) beats / moments in the IF (which is already true now). The next couple of chapters will follow the same mix of sports, school and romance / hanging out, so you should already have a sense of how much romance there'll be (it'll just keep unfolding / developing for each of the RO routes!)

6. Hehe found family is my fave trope to insert in stories as well.

7. Hahaha aww oh no fictional college life is catching up to your real college life!!

8. HUG YOU BACK (with consent)!!🤗🤗

[oculusxcaro]

Had a funny thought at work today about which of my muses are the most dangerous, particularly when it comes to biting somebody and the answer? It's this bitch right here.

So, Khare doesn't look very dangerous and why would she? She can't exactly fight, she isn't super strong nor does she have any super cool amazing powers like being able to shoot webs out of her wrists or freeze somebody solid with a single touch. She can drop her arm and regrow it (very) painfully though, and that is precisely WHY you're COMPLETELY FUCKING FUCKED if she ever bites you. Her mutation? It's eating her alive, but she's able to stave off the worst effects due to receiving consecutive injections that gave her immune system enough time to hunker down and start fighting back against these new invaders in their space. It can't stop the onslaught indefinitely but it does grant her time, a war of attrition if you will. Her DNA is doing everything it can to remain stable and keep the host going but eventually it'll all come tumbling down like a house of cards and then Khare will REALLY start looking bad. That all changes if she bites somebody because they did not receive the same chain injections and have absolutely NO resistance to the DNA-altering enzymes in her body. One bite is all it'll take for a few DNA fragments to become lodged in the unlucky victim's wound and while at the time it seems like a normal human bite, the damage it'll cause will be beyond catastrophic. It won't start off that way. Hell, the wound might even heal unusually quick but it's as normal a bite as a human can give. You'll forget it even happened and life will go on as normal for a little while. That is, until the itching starts. It'll start in the area where the bite occured, an incessant itch that won't go away no matter how many times you scratch it. That feeling will eventually spread across the afflicted area, running up your limbs, into your torso, wherever the hell that fucking waitress bit you for whatever goddamn reason. It just won't stop and not even heavy painkillers or booze will touch it. Then the itching'll get worse, and soon you see... things beneath your skin, strange little hives. Except... they're not hives, they're tiny fucking eyes and lumps of abnormal tissue that keeps rising to the surface, spreading like a rash as your skin just... starts to melt. You're hot, you're clammy, you're plagued by relentless thirst and drink and drink and drink except it's a thirst that cannot be quenched, and you're just so fucking hot and itchy you're about to claw your skin off except that'll just make the whole process move even faster. You start melting. Skin sloughs off like musty old clothes, new flesh trying and trying to replace what was lost except this mutation was never intended for you. What was once a foreign body has now inoculated in your very own immune system long enough to turn it against you, destroying you from within right down to your very last cell. You stop thinking, you can't think because your organs are all liquifying including your brain and if you're *still* alive at this point, you've never wished for anything harder than for it all to just end already. If Roman bites you, it's going to fucking hurt but it'll heal depending on how hard he did it. If Man-Bat bites you, you might need a blood transfusion because of the draculin in his saliva. If Kirk bites you, he was being kinky. ;') If Stoplight bites you however, say goodbye to whatever limb he got ahold of. If Copperhead bites you, count yourself lucky if you only end up in hospital but if Khare bites you, you are already dead. You just don't know it yet. So... yeah. Try to avoid any love bites from this girl because whatever you think it's worth, it's really really not. Trust me on that one. x

[letitrainathousandflames]

First off, I loved the story. Second, what happened 👀👀👀

(Not particularly heavy stuff, but an emotionally abusive situation is mentioned, so TW for that, I guess? Also if u have anything u want me to tag here, just send me an ask and I'll do it. Also this is a long post, but that's what u get for asking someone with adhd to tell a story ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

Alright, so like I said, I my first bf and I met in highschool and we stayed together from me being 15 to 26. A decade plus one of emotional abuse, manipulation, gaslighting, my friends being cut off to further my isolation, and me being too inexperienced to see the guy for the asshole he was.

And, like I said, my therapist from that time was a goddamn genius who saw how much I was suffering but also could tell I would not get out of that situation willingly bc I was so used to that being my life and the whole "he can't be abusive - he never hit me!" mentality that I couldn't see that he would cheer me up when I was down - but he was the one to put me down to begin with!

So she said "how about you two take a break? One month away from each other, with no strings attached, not bf and gf anymore, so you can see whether this is a relationship worth fighting for" (it wasn't, lmao)

Me, a week after: so, he's gonna be traveling in two months after this one and-

She, very serious: fascinating! let's make it three months then! You'll meet again when he's back, it'll be great for everyone!

The thing is, when you date someone that swallows up your entire life and cuts your bridges to everyone else, you end up pretty lost and alone (this is literally the tactic cults use to force people to stay in the cult, by making sure they won't have a community to support them once they are out).

But! My bff, bless her heart, never left my side no matter how often I would ghost her while i was still dating. And after I'd spent that first month (november of that year) moping and crying like someone had died, she invited me to go clubbing and I actually got to dance and be silly for the first time since my early teens!

Being undiagnosed autistic/adhd and having my ex as my only social interaction outside of my family AND not doing well socially in school bc bullying made it a bit of a challenge to come on to people, so my bff would be my wingwoman - hey, my friend thinks you're cute, etc.

For some reason, the ladies shot me down a lot, which sucked bc I really wanted to kiss a girl and "find out" whether I was bi (I thought I needed this as proof, lol). But the boys had those looney-tunes eyes at me so I got to kiss some of them and it was fun and stupid and so freeing.

And then there was her. Julia. Even my adhd brain still remembers her name. She was much taller than I, with full, black hair and a raspy voice that made me go heart eyes over her. I asked my bff to chat her up to me, and when instead of politely shaking her head with an apologetic smile as the other girls did, she walked up to me.

Then she asked me whether I wanted to kiss her, and I said yes, and she leaned over me and the world stopped spinning for a moment because I was kissing a girl and it was soft and sweet and good and oh my god, so I do like girls, of course I do, they are so pretty and amazing and oh wow, I am bisexual, that's a lot to unpack and-

And then she was smiling, and saying goodbye bc she wanted to meet up with her friends, and I was left in the middle of that rooftop dance floor, under the stars, my ears ringing and my face burning hot. I had my answer. I had my truth. I had it all along, but now it was real.

So just on account of that, month two (december of that year) was already chalked down as better than the entire time I had ever spent with my not-yet-entirely-ex, but I went out with my bff other times and had just as much fun. Incidentally, the hidden quickie with the handsome guy only happened bc I was intensely fueled by a spiteful thought of "aw hell no, I won't close this year without having boned someone other than [redacted]!". So uh. Yeah. The say love makes you do things, but hooo boy, the things that spite makes u do!

Anyway, moving on! January rolled out and my soon-to-be-ex sent me a text for us to meet, and we did. We caught up at some public place, and at some point he asked me whether I wanted to get back together.

Now, the first sentence that popped into my brain, in all caps, was: "I'D RATHER DOUSE MYSELF IN GASOLINE AND LIGHT A MATCH LMAO" but I unfortunately held back enough to say "I think we're much too different people now" while choking back laughter. So he asked to be just friends and I was like, ah well, I guess?

And we had this whole talk in the cab on the way to drop me off at my place, and this is where the nickname to which I refer to him now, "the deceased", came to be.

See, he was very clearly trying to lay the groundwork to try and build a relationship with me again, talking abt how different people can still get along even if they're exes bc we are both so emotionally mature, etc.

And I jokingly say the most absurd thing I could think: "yeah, and even if we're different, it's not like you're gonna... idk, vote for bolsonaro".

And he did a double take. And. Very shyly, he said he was, in fact, gonna vote for him. Y'know the genocidal, pro-dictatorship, homophobic, corrupt, nightmare of a president with which we were later plagued with for four years in the middle of a pandemic.

That's when I realized this dude wasn't worth keeping around even as a distant acquaintance, and I had a whole mental funeral for this guy bc he would be dead to me from then on. Sad music, flowers, the whole thing. Rip in piss, as y'all say around here.

Once we arrived by my place's door, I asked him to wait in the cab while I went up real quick. When I came back, he was like "oh?? you wanna go somewhere else from here?"

and I simply shoved the very large plastic bag I'd carried down on the seat next to him, explaining: "no, it's just that this is all your crap that was still in my house and I don't want it here anymore. Bye."

What a terrific place to end this story! How dramatic! I mean, that guy was the worst thing I've ever had cling to me in my life, and that includes that one time in the woods when I was a kid and like a hundred ticks bit me.

Well, close the curtains on this show, then! This is a satisfying ending and surely you never heard of him again, right, OP? Right, OP????

[press X for the next stupid anecdote about the deceased]

[press Y to never hear about the deceased again]

[vanilla extract] (sorry I had to)

-

If this made you laugh, buy me a ko-fi to help me continue to afford the therapy I so clearly need lmao