#every single person i try to talk to about covid

[8thavenueserenade]

nothing sucks more in the world than saying to someone “i love you and care about you and want you to be safe” and they essentially tell you to fuck off

[icewindandboringhorror]

Everytime I face a new character limit on a website that didn't have them before/used to have really long ones... AUGHHhhh the modern social media world was not made for people like me (lovers of details, rambling, elaboration, thorough explanation, and nuance)

[dykeogenes]

sick and fucking tired of abled people wanting me to hold their hand and reassure them we can still be friends if they don’t wear masks. fuck you. don’t you dare ask me “is it okay if i keep my mask off?” you KNOW the answer is no. you already know i don’t want your fucking covid because you have EYES and I’M WEARING A GODDAMN N95.

people only ever ask that question because they KNOW your response is going to be “oh, um, i don’t care...” bc responding any other way makes you look unhinged and demanding. nobody is ever gonna tell you to put a mask on. do you understand that? nobody is EVER gonna ask you to put a mask on, no matter how high fucking risk they are. “you can’t tell me what to do with my body” NONE OF US EVER WILL.

when you say “stop trying to force me to wear a mask,” what you are actually saying is “stop reminding me that my choice not to wear a mask is selfish and ableist, because that makes me feel bad about myself.”

the first point would be a fair request-- much as i think you should be masked, i sure don’t think anyone should hold you down and force it on you. but nobody is doing that.

the second point is not a fair request. kill us if you want. fine. i can’t stop you. but you will look us in the fucking eye when you pull the trigger.

[sweetbans29]

Photograph - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: Caitlin loves the way you capture her (based on THIS request)

Warnings: domestic life

Word Count: 3.1k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: Ms. Queen of Domesticity is back.

There wasn't much you loved more than being behind a camera. Before starting on the Iowa media team, you would say there was nothing you loved more than being behind your camera but a certain girl was determined to change that.

Photography had always been a hobby for you - started in a middle school photography class and only grew from there. You had no idea that it would lead you to majoring in media when you got to college but thanks to a high school teacher, your dreams to pursue photography had become reality. Mr. Poole was in charge of the sports media team at your high school and saw your love for capturing the moment in a game. It wasn't just the love he saw in you, it was also in the work that you produced. You would always capture athletes in a way that humanized them - capturing the excitement and hard work that a person has put in to lead up to the exact time your shutter snaps. All the sports teams loved you, begging you to come to their games.

It was the portfolio you built and a highly regarded letter of recommendation that had you on a pretty nice scholarship to Iowa studying sports media. It had also led you to an internship and a job with your university's sports media team.

It was your freshman year where you were encouraged to apply to intern and by the end of your freshman year they were offering you a job.

Your sophomore year is when you met Caitlin. A smiley freshman who had the whole media team buzzing. You had photographed the women's basketball team when you were interning and knew them really well. If you were asked, you would say they were your favorite team to watch and capture and that didn't change when you met the freshman guard.

It was during the women's basketball season where you and Caitlin hit it off. You would notice she would always turn to you and give a little smile or make a funny face. You would capture the sweet girl in photos that would never see the light of day (not yet at least). Caitlin wasn't even sure you would snap a pic when she turned your way, mostly trying to get a reaction out of you. And she did, every single time.

It started about halfway through the season. Everyone aside from the players were required to wear masks (thanks Covid) but you didn't mind. You were one of two media team members in house to photograph the games. The second you caught the brown-haired girl turn to where you were you would capture her. You would then look up at her with a smile, hidden by your mask, and a shake of your head.

What you didn't know was that Caitlin would watch for the crinkle in your eyes signaling a smile on your lips. It would be the catalyst for the flutter in her heart and butterflies in her tummy.

After every game, she would come up to you asking for those photos. You would always act clueless.

"So, are you going to let me see them this time?" Caitlin asks. You can't help but smile at the way her baby hairs are going every which way. You bring your camera up to capture her in this imperfect moment, the moments you love the most.

"Hey!" She squeals as she flips her hair to redo it, soothing all the little strays.

"Cute," you say looking at the photo on your camera screen, you lean over to her and show it.

"That is not what I was talking about," Caitlin says with a little whine.

You hate when anyone whines but with Caitlin, it is quite adorable.

"I don't know what you are talking about," you say shutting your camera down.

"You know exactly what I am talking about," Caitlin says, eyes looking directly into yours. "The ones you take that make the corners of your eyes turn up and a pretty little smile graces yours lips underneath that mask."

You are shocked by her forwardness but don't let her get the best of you.

"Caitlin Clark," you say in all seriousness. "Are you using me for my photos?"

Caitlin laughs and you join her.

"I know you take them and I will get them out of you someday," Caitlin says.

"Sure Clark, someday," you say and are on your way.

Fast forward to the end of the season when you and Caitlin start hanging out. You were the one to ask the younger girl out but ever since, she has been the one to cling more. Usually the constant want and need for her to be with you would be overwhelming, but as your love for the girl grew, having her near you became more and more natural.

When you started dating, it was kept to the confines of your apartment or hers. It wasn't hard to do as Cait was quite the homebody and your never minded being the introverted girl you are. The two of you would spend hours curled up in your bed, wearing sweats and sweatshirts and talking about everything under the sun. It was a cold winter day during your junior year, her sophomore year when you being to talk about things that mean a little more.

You are at your apartment, Caitlin is cuddled up by your side when she goes quiet all of the sudden. You feel your girl play with the sleeve of your sweatshirt.

"What's going through that pretty little head of yours," you ask as you kiss the top of her head. She nestles her face into your arm and shoulder, inhaling the scent of your freshly washed sweatshirt.

You giggle and bring your free hand to come up to brush your fingers through her soft hair. Her face pops up, resting her head on your shoulder, finger still playing with your sleeve.

"I want a big family," she says, almost as if she is scared to say it. "I want at least 2 kids, maybe three."

You don't say anything immediately which stresses the younger girl out. You can't help but smile.

"If we had two, we each could carry one. If we have a third, then we will need to figure out who will carry," you say as you wiggle your arm out from between you and Caitlin and wrap it around her bringing her closer to you. You hand comes to rub her back.

Her arm comes to snake around your waist, fingers no longer fidgeting.

"We could have four and each carry two. Then we would have one sub for our starting 5," she says.

"Would you really want us to be outnumbered by double?" You ask, unsure how you feel about 4 kids.

Caitlin thinks about it, "I guess it would depend on how the first three are. If they came out like you, I wouldn't mind having a fourth but if we have three little me's then we might want to consider stopping at two."

You laugh and can't help but squeeze your girlfriend.

"And I will be playing pro ball while you are on the media team for my team, keeping us together. Your portfolio is already good enough to be working professionally so you could go wherever I am drafted. And you could keep taking those those photos of me that you say you don't take," Caitlin says with a little smirk.

You pinch the back of her arm and she yelps.

"Now you are definitely not seeing any of those photos," you say. Caitlin rolls her eyes, like she was ever going to see them in the first place.

"Tell me more," you say loving hearing Caitlin talk about your future.

"We would find a house in a nice neighborhood where our kids can play in the yard. And we would have a a dog, maybe two," she says.

"I want a cat," you say and you can almost hear the facial expression Cait makes.

"If you get two dogs, I get a cat," you say.

"What about one dog and no cats?" Caitlin counters.

"No," you say standing firm on owning a cat. "I should really just get a cat now, that way it will already be apart of the family."

"You don't need a cat when you have me," Caitlin says. "I am basically like a cat. I nap and cuddle you and bug you when I want food."

You laugh at her.

"If you are like a cat, I don't get why you don't want one then," you say.

She shrugs and the two of you continue talking about what like will be like after college.

It is shortly after that conversation that you are chosen by the cat distribution system. You are home to a little black kitten who has consumed a majority of your time which has Caitlin frustrated. Your time that was once spent cuddling her was now you cuddling the little black feline. As the kitten began to grow, it was like he knew he was taking you away from Caitlin and would intentionally lay on your stomach when she was over. Caitlin would complain to you and you told her that no one could replace her as your cuddle buddy, but by the stares Meatball gave her (yes you named your cat Meatball), he knew that he had won.

That was when the two of you started hanging out at her place more often which opened the door to her teammates finding out the two of you were dating. It was shortly after that both of you told your parents.

Moving on to the end of your senior year, graduation was something you were ready for. You were done with school and ready to work. You were already set up to stay with Iowa's media team for another year, two at max depending on if Caitlin was going to do a fifth year or not. The plan was for you to stick around until Caitlin declares for the draft, you would then follow her.

Capturing Caitlin her senior year was the most fun you had photographing a sport. Yes, her being your girlfriend played a part in that but her dominate performance was something that had eyes turning her way from every corners of the world. As you capture her throughout her senior year, you are beyond glad you did. It was like every other night she was breaking a record or putting up a monstrous game. It made for amazing content.

It was on Valentines Day when Caitlin had told you that she was planning on declaring for the draft.

"I think I am ready," she says as the two of you are sitting on your living room floor eating dinner by candlelight.

Caitlin wanted to take you out to a fancy restaurant that would ultimately lead you back to one of your places at the end of the night but you opted for a night in. You loved times like this with Cait, just the two of you...and Meatball. Meatball was sitting on the couch, watching the two of you.

"You think?" You ask, having a pretty good idea of what she's talking about.

"I am ready," she says. You nod.

"I just don't know if I am ready to announce it yet," she says. "Announcing it makes it real."

"It does," you say. "And it is okay that you are not ready to announce it. It is all on your timing, no one else's." You lean over to grab her hand.

"I am here with you every step of the way," you say squeezing her hand. She gives you a thankful smile.

"Me and Meatball," you say as your cat extends its paw to touch Caitlin's head. You both laugh at your furbaby.

"Thanks Meatloaf," Caitlin says removing the cats paw from her.

"Meatball," you say rolling your eyes.

"Ya, whatever," Caitlin says.

"But seriously Cait, if you are ready, I am with you," you say not wanting to brush over one of the biggest decisions of Caitlin's career.

"I love you," she says and you smile at your girl.

"I know," you say and continue eating your dinner. Caitlin looks at you expecting you to say the same thing but you don't.

"Anything else you care to add?" Caitlin asks, lifting an eyebrow.

You just look at her with a smile and chew your food. You know it bugs Caitlin when you don't tell her you love her back even though she can see it in your eyes.

"Say it," Caitlin says.

"Say what?" You poke at her. Caitlin rises from her spot and makes her way over to you but your crawl away. She comes up behind you and lifts your up from your waist. You let out a squeal as Caitlin traps you.

"Say it," Caitlin says again. When you don't tell her you love her in what she believes is a suitable time, she begins attacking you with her fingers. Laughs fall from your mouth as you try to get her to stop. You lift your hands in surrender.

"Okay, okay okay," you say. "I surrender!"

Caitlin looks at you expecting to hear the three little words but you just wiggle out of her grip and run from her.

She follows you into the bedroom where you show her just how much you love her.

Over the course of the next few months, time flies. Caitlin and the Hawkeyes worked endlessly to get back to the championship. They do, falling short of the victory. It is literal days after that when you are on a plane to New York with Caitlin and a few of her teammates to go to watch her on SNL. It is days after that she is being drafted to Indiana.

You are now settled into your shared apartment working on your portfolio. You are finally going through the shots you got of the team during the championship. It is while you are scanning through thousands of photos when Caitlin comes back from practice, plopping down beside you.

You can tell she has something to talk to you about considering she can't sit still. You hit save then turn to look at your cute girl.

"Why hello there," you say with a smile.

"I have some exciting news," she says.

"And what is that?" You ask.

"I ran into the media manager of the Fever and one thing led to another and they want to see your portfolio," she says with an unmatched excitement.

You smile at her and lean in to give her a hug.

"Always looking out for me," you say into her.

"Always," she says proud of herself.

You went and met with the Fever media team and they had offered you the job on the spot. It was unexpected but after seeing the way you had captured Caitlin, they knew it was a no brainer.

You had started with the team the first official game of the season. Working for the Fever media team while Caitlin was playing for them was the exact dream that the two of you had talked about that one winter day.

It is halfway through the season when the league goes on Olympic break. It is only a few days in when you decide to drop a little photo dump of Caitlin from a recent game where she stole your camera and took some photos for herself. When you posted the dump, the comment section blew up with comments. A lot of them talking about how Caitlin always looks so cute in your photos, several of them talking about how you photograph Cait the best. Then there are a select few comments that end up blowing up and sending her fanbase down a spiral. It is the two comments that begin the exposure of your relationship.

"I think the world knows," you say as you laugh at some of the comments.

Caitlin comes up behind you looking over her shoulder. Her chin finds your shoulder as her arms snake around you. You hold your phone as you let her scroll through the comments.

"Surprised it hasn't blown up sooner," she says and you laugh.

"What do you mean by that?" You ask.

"I mean, if you look at any other photo someone takes of me it is nothing compared to how you capture me. It is like we are always in sync," she says proud of you.

"Ya, I guess that makes sense," you say. The comments are all cute and for both of yours relationship.

"I am like Spiderman and you are like Peter Parker," Cait says and you let out a hearty laugh. She continues, "You know what I mean. How Peter captures Spidey in all the right angles because he is Spidey. We are one and the same."

You laugh at your girls explanation and turn around to give her a kiss.

"That was a great connection there babe," you say and she smiles down at you.

It is not long after fans start digging up old Iowa photos that you took of Caitlin. Before you know it, the two of you are public with your relationship.

It is after Caitlin's rookie year that you finally decide to open up the treasure trove of photos you have of Caitlin looking at you through the camera. You make a post of how proud of her you are finishing up her first year in the W. You dig deep, all the way back to some of you first games capturing the Hawkeyes.

When Cait sees them, the first time is on her Instagram in a tagged post. Her eyes go wide as she yells your name in your apartment. She immediately goes to hunt you down and finds you giggling on the couch with Meatball napping on your lap.

"You didn't," she says staring at you with a playful grin.

"Oh but I did," you say matching her grin. She jumps on your earning a sprint and glare from Meatball.

"Show me more," she begs and you finally give in, showing her all of the photos you have of her looking at you with loving eyes.

AN: Okay but I am here for Meatball. Let me know what you think about this media reader. And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

Be still, my foolish heart.

Pairing/Au: Soft single dad!Joel Miller x Curvy f!reader, no outbreak

Words count: 8816 (I know, I’m sorry 💀)

Rating: +18, MDNI, NSFW

Summary: A meet cute at the clinic where you work leads to finding the best date you could ask for… our one and only Joel Miller.

Warnings: pov second person, no use of y/n, meet cute, a little bit of a slow burn, reader is curvy, has breasts and vagina and wears a dress, apart from that no other specific description is given, age gap (reader is 35, Joel is 46), Joel is a single dad and he is soft (what can I say, I’m a sucker for a soft Joel okay), reader doesn’t trust Joel immediately and she thinks he might be dangerous (he’s not, he’s cutest), Sarah is alive and well and she’s mentioned multiple times, mention of Tommy, Joel is a contractor, unprotected p in v (wrap it up IRL, folks!), pussy pronouns, mention of use of oral contraceptives (reader is on the pill), fingering (f receiving), oral (m and f receiving), dirty talks, elderly people being fragile and sick, slight mention of Joel’s prescriptions including antidepressant (game Joel took it so I put it in there), I know that prescribing medicine doesn't exactly work like that in America (not even in Italy for that matter) but allow me a poetic license (😂), reader has insecurities about her body, mention of bullying and previous toxic relationships that reader has been subjected to, internal reader’s voice inserts, pet names (pretty lady, good girl, honey, sunshine, baby, babe, angel), squirting (not specifically mentioned but still), Joel is feral and reader too.

I don't think I forgot anything but if I notice it I'll add it right away.

I made a mood board for the first time in my life, I know it's not great but I tried 💀 English is not my first language so please be gentle (I also have Covid at the moment… yeah, it’s 2024 and I caught it for the third time, lucky me), I hope there aren't too many mistakes, no beta so it's all my fault LOL, no proofreading. Title is an Hozier quote. Of course, because I love this man.

Oh sh*t, here’s what I was forgetting: the mirror scene is inspired by Polin (yep, it was a great scene ❤️) but I think I personalized and changed it enough to make it just Joel and reader's, at least I hope.

(Reader works in a clinic because I do this job so yes, she has this thing in common with me besides being curvy. Every time I write a curvy reader is so personal to me)

I might write something else about these two if you like, I really love this pairing and I hope I’m not the only one, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated! Thanks to anyone who will read this 💐

You are at your desk, absorbed in an email you are writing to a patient who is asking for prescriptions for medicines. The clinic is empty and quiet and this doesn’t happen often so you’re trying to keep up with emails and messages and phone calls that you have received in the last hour.

Suddenly the door opens and a man enters the clinic, at first you don't even look at him, you just say "Good morning" and continue typing.

He clears his throat and says “good morning” and stops in front of you, on the other side of the desk. He’s clearly waiting for you to shift your attention to him so you turn and look at him. For a moment you’re speechless. He’s a gorgeous man.

Tall and broad, dark hair slightly streaked with silver, strong aquiline nose, beard and mustache framing a pair of plump lips, perfectly designed jawline and neck.

Stunning.

You didn’t expect anyone like this ‘cause really, the doctor you work for has hundreds of elderly patients or families with children and you have never been interested in married men, you don’t even look at them but anyway, you never saw a single person that was attractive to you in this place before.

You smile politely as you ask “do you need anything?” and you want to sink into your seat because you don't even have makeup on and you're wearing the first things you found in the closet this morning. An old pair of jeans and a black top.

“Yes please, I need some prescriptions. I just changed doctor because my previous one is now retired. I always sent an email to his secretary but this is the first time I've asked for my prescriptions here so I thought I'd stop by in person especially since I was in the area. I’m working in the building next door”

Bingo.

That’s why you never saw him.

You quickly look at his hand on the desk for a ring and it’s not there.

His hands are gorgeous though, big strong working and experienced hands.

“Sure, can you tell me your name please?” you ask trying to keep your tone professional while being excited to know more about him.

“Joel Miller” he says and you find the way his tongue rolls up to pronounce the r at the end so delicious it’s almost embarrassing.

For a moment you're almost afraid he might hear your thoughts.

You turn back to the computer typing in his name and a moment later his medical records appear.

46 years old, born in late September, he lives in Austin. You look at his prescriptions and notice a reflux medication, another for high blood pressure, and an antidepressant.

Oh.

What happened to him?

“Well, Mister Miller, what do you need today?”

“You don’t have to call me Mister Miller, even if you’re younger than me I think?”

You look down in bewilderment, not expecting much familiarity from him since it’s the first time you’ve seen him but you answer anyway “Yes, actually. I’m 35”

“So you can call me Joel” he says with a smile that tugs at the corner of his mouth and hopeful eyes of someone who asks not to make him feel old.

“Of course I can” you hurry to answer “So… Joel, what do you need today?”

He gives you a grateful look and replies, “I don’t remember what it’s called but… my medicine for high blood pressure.”

“Oh yes, this one” you nod and proceed to prepare it, “just a moment, Mr Miller… uhm I meant Joel, I need to get the doctor to sign it,” you tell him as the printer gurgles, spitting out the prescription paper.

You stand up from your chair, feeling your legs a little unsteady, and once you’re in front of him his height impresses you even more. He’s imposing, you’re a curvy girl and yet you feel so tiny in front of him.

You notice that he looks you up and down and seems pleased, his eyes reflecting an approval that makes you very satisfied.

You move quickly to the doctor's office, enter apologizing and have him sign the prescription. When you leave you find him standing in front of your desk waiting, he looks at you again and you notice a certain sparkle in his eyes.

"Here you go" you say and hand him the prescription.

You feel his fingers lightly brush yours and a shiver of pleasure runs down your spine.

“Thank you,” he smiles at you, “you are very kind.”

“No problem, have a good day,” and you approach the desk to sit down again. You see him hesitate for a moment, as if he wanted to add something.

“Do you need anything else?” You ask curiously and a part of you really hopes that he will ask you for your phone number or if you want to go get a drink after work.

“Oh no, no thanks, see you next time”

His gaze drops to the floor as he says this, as if he's embarrassed, which you like because it feels like you're not the only one in the room who's been pleasantly shaken up by this encounter.

He puts his hand on the door handle and turns once more, smiling shyly.

You smile back feeling a sense of tenderness so premature that you wonder if you're losing your mind.

You go back to work but all you think about is him, you want to know more.

You enter his name again in the search bar and reopen his folder. Joel Miller. You wonder who he really is and what he does but apart from his pathologies and his date of birth you don't find much else about him. His address is there but you certainly won't use it for unorthodox purposes such as accidentally ending up in his neighborhood, you would pass for a stalker as well as a very unprofessional secretary.

Nothing stops you from noticing that he lives in a very quiet residential neighborhood though.

Will he be married? There are men who do not wear a wedding ring so it might not be safe to rely only on the fact of not having seen it.

You hesitate a bit before doing so because you already feel awkward enough for someone you've only seen once but in the end you type his address in the search bar to see if other people who live with him in the same house appear, usually families tend to have the same doctor for convenience.

You hold your breath as you stare at the white screen waiting and after a few seconds a result appears.

Sarah Miller.

“There I knew it, he’s married” you think, huffing and shrugging, but then you look better and realize that this Sarah is 14 years old. “So… he has a daughter”

No one else showed up in the results so you assume he is not married but he may have been and then got divorced. Unless his wife chose another doctor but that seems very strange to you.

You contemplate trying to Google his name but then decide it's best to wait until you get home, you can't use the work computer for personal stuff.

You sigh and go back to your work, completing your search just a second before the doctor comes out and asks you if you have any urgent messages.

Today everything is strangely quiet though, even if you wasted time looking for information on Joel you finish all the work, not without thinking about him at least once an hour. You feel silly, you shouldn’t have any kind of thought about someone you don’t know and with whom you have only exchanged a few words, the fact that he seemed interested and that he was about to ask something while he was about to leave could also be false projections that you have made in your head. And yet…once home, after taking a shower and putting on clean pajamas, you throw yourself on the sofa nibbling on a sandwich and open your laptop.

You open Google and type his name and the first result that comes up is “Miller - construction company”

It could be him, now that you think about it he mentioned he was working on the building next door which is in fact under construction.

You scroll down to the bottom of the page where the owners are listed and you see two names, Joel and Tommy Miller. You assume that Tommy is his brother. You go back to the Google page for a moment and check if there are any namesakes but no one else in the city has the same name. And just like that, you know what he does.

You don’t think you can do anything with this information, you live in a new apartment and everything is in perfect working order so you just have to wait. Before leaving he said “see you next time”, so now you find yourself wondering when the next time will be. Probably in a month, when he will need a new prescription.

Such a long time. But maybe this will help you, you tell yourself. It's just a passing thing, you tell yourself. You can't be so foolish as to project your fantasies onto him. You decide that this is okay, you'll just get over it.

_____________________

After a week you almost got Joel out of your mind. You worked quietly, met the usual old people who came to the clinic to be examined, no sign of him. You'd be lying if you didn't think about it anymore but you stopped yourself from doing something foolish like contacting him for a fake construction job to try to meet him.

You are preparing some prescriptions when the doctor comes out of the office and asks if you could please take some medicine to the home of a very elderly patient. It is something you usually do not do but the caregiver cannot leave her alone and her son is away for work all week so she had no choice but asking you to do that. It will take up extra time because you will have to go to the pharmacy and then to her house, the doctor offers to pay you overtime but you know the lady and say that it is not a problem, you can do it without compensation.

Of course you can do that for Rose.

When she was better and could move around quite independently you often talked when she came to the clinic, she immediately took a liking to you and treated you like a niece, she would bring you gifts, vegetables from her garden, other times sweets cooked by her.

She is a dear lady, you are happy to be able to do her a favor.

At 5:00 you leave the office and head to the pharmacy, pick up her prescriptions, and get back in the car to drive to her neighborhood.

Rose lives in a nice street with many rather large houses, well-kept gardens and white picket fences.

You knock on the door and Georgia, the caregiver hired by Rose's family to assist her, opens it.

You already know her, she has accompanied Rose to the clinic many times but lately her health has worsened a lot and she can no longer leave the house.

“Hi, Georgia! I I brought Rose’s medicines”

“Hey! How long has it been since we saw each other? Come in!” She says with a big smile.

Georgia is a very sweet person and a great professional, she has taken great care of Rose all these years. She is a qualified nurse and the granddaughter of a long time friend of Rose. Georgia had moved to Texas from Arkansas to attend college and since then she had always lived at her grandmother's house, who lived a few miles from Rose's house.

She took the job because she loved her and when her grandmother passed away Rose was very close to her.

Georgia offers you a coffee and some chocolate cookies she has prepared, which you gladly accept.

You chat a little while Rose is resting and then when it's time to wake her up to take her evening medicine you accompany Georgia to her room to say goodbye to Rose.

She is lying motionless in a bed, now forced to ask Georgia for help with everything, she is almost 85 years old now and you are so sorry to see her like this. Until a few years ago she was an energetic, witty woman, with lots of hobbies, she loved reading, gardening, cooking and going to the movies. Now she was a ghost of herself. And the worst thing was probably that her mind was still working, so she realized what was happening to her and this made her even sadder and more helpless. Her body did not respond, while her mind understood everything.

She recognizes you right away and greets you so sweetly with her now faint voice. It breaks your heart to see her like this.

She asks you for a hug and you put your arms around her little shoulders, holding her gently. She's always been good to you, she doesn't deserve this.

You leave the room, wiping away a tear, without letting Rose see you, and say goodbye to Georgia, promising to come back and visit them soon.

You stand in the driveway feeling helpless for a moment, you would like to do so much more. Some patients have become like an extended family to you, you have known them for years and seeing some of them fold in on themselves, increasingly frail and elderly is so bad.

You look up and see a black pickup truck driving down the road. There’s a man in it and he looks familiar. He pulls into the driveway two houses down and gets out. And oh, shit.

It’s Joel.

Joel Miller.

He lives in the same neighborhood as Rose and you didn’t even registered that in your mind before.

You don't know what to do, whether to get in the car and drive away pretending nothing happened or take the opportunity and go say hello to him.

It seems silly to say hello to someone you've only seen once, no matter how attractive they are. You walk to your car, rummaging through your bag for your keys.

You're about to curse because never once do you find something in your bag, it doesn't even matter what it is. Big bag? You find nothing. Small bag? You find nothing either.

Your eyes move for a moment to the asphalt and you see two boots approaching, you look up again and you see two legs wrapped in dark jeans streaked with paint and of course to those legs is attached the rest of Joel Miller's wonderful body.

Your eyes widen and you watch him stop in front of you, beautiful as a God. Even more beautiful than the first time you saw him.

“Hi! I saw you across the street and I was pretty sure it was you. I almost made a fool of myself, but hey, I was right!”

You lose your words, it's as if they've slipped out of your brain and melted at your feet.

At least you solved a dilemma, he greeted you first.

“Hi” you say shyly.

This doesn't make you any less nervous, you were trying to sneak out of this neighborhood unnoticed and you could say that he ruined everything and you don't know him well enough to know whether to be grateful or keep running away pretending to be very busy.

He has a daughter, a respectable job, a brother, lives in a nice neighborhood, and seems to lead a regular life. Is that enough to trust these days? Probably not.

This dude can be anyone, a serial killer, a criminal, a drug dealer, a thief, whatever.

How do you know he doesn't sleep with a gun on his nightstand or keep dead bodies in his basement?

Trust no one, is something you learned from a very early age and you always stood by it, safety first.

Have you been wanting to see him again for a whole week? Yes.

Did you just realize that you know nothing and that you might be risking something? This too.

“Can I ask why you’re here?” He asks, running his hand through his curls in a way that drives you instantly wild.

God, why is he so gorgeous, this doesn’t help at all.

You can always run to Rose and call the police if he suggests something strange and you’re in the middle of the street in broad daylight so you decide to take the risk and say the truth

“I came to deliver medicines to a lady who lives here” you reply, acting like he doesn’t have any kind of effect on you.

“Oh, so this is something you do? I didn’t know that”

“No, not regularly. I actually did it because it’s Rose, you know. She’s an adorable old lady”

He nods as if he knows exactly what you're talking about and actually says, "Sure, Rose. I know her. She used to babysit my daughter many years ago."

Okay, those are some great credentials. So maybe you can trust Joel Miller? Isn't he a lunatic homicidal? Maybe not.

Obviously you pretend you don’t know anything about Sarah and ask, “Oh really? You have a daughter?” raising your voice in surprise for a better result.

“Yeah I do. She's 14 years old and she's already giving me a hard time, she’s so smart and responsible that she’s basically parenting me” he shrugs while a little smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. You can see in his eyes how proud he is of her.

You giggle “well, she sounds so cool, I do love a tough girl.”

“Oh, she’s definitely your girl then”

You smile and think that after all, yes, Joel probably doesn't have any horrible skeletons in his closet.

And again he falls silent and looks uncertain and embarrassed, he lowers his eyes and then asks you, “You know, I’m going to be working in the building next to where you work for a little while longer, so I was wondering if you’d like to have a coffee with me sometime?”

It’s like every word is bouncing around in your head as you think about what to say. Would you like to get to know him better? The answer in the end is, “Yes, I would like to, thank you” you feel your face heat up as you say it.

Joel shifts his weight from one leg to the other as he looks at you, he seems nervous, excited but above all happy.

“I’m glad you accepted. So…what do you think about tomorrow?”

“Okay, I have lunch break from 12 to 2, is 1 okay for you?”

You see his face light up “sure that’s fine. See you tomorrow then”

For a moment he raises his arm as if he wants to come closer and touch you, but then he immediately lets it slide down his side.

Gentleman, you note in your head.

It is not yet the time for such confidence, but secretly you hope that it will come soon.

You say goodbye to him and get back in the car and you see him waving at you in the rearview mirror.

“God, Joel Miller, I already know you’re going to be a threat for me. In the best sense of the word.”

_________________________

In the weeks that follow, you and Joel share a lot of coffees. Every day he waits for you outside the clinic at 1:00 sharp, you go to the corner café and chat for an hour before returning to work. He tells you a lot of things about himself and his life which you adore listening about.

He also confides in you that he was in therapy and had to use antidepressants for a period of time, when Sarah's mother abandoned them. You completely understand.

And the more you talk to him the more you get convinced that he’s a great person, you don’t have any doubt about that.

He never fails to compliment you, on your clothes, on your hair, on your eyes, on your nail polish.

He laughingly admits that the compliment about the nail polish was Sarah’s suggestion. “Dad, she told me, girls like it when you notice details.”

You laugh out loud and nod. “She’s right. And you’re right, too, you have a very smart daughter.”

He shrugs “I know,” and then adds. “It’s been so long since I’ve dated anyone, I don’t even remember how to do it anymore.” You lean slightly across the table and whisper. “Well, I think you’re doing great.” And it’s true. You feel spoiled like a queen.

He gives you a mischievous smile “oh yeah?”

“Yes, definitely” And you want to kiss him right there, in that crowded café.

Yet a voice inside you still can’t understand how someone like him, who could have all the women he wants, is inviting you, a curvy girl.

You shouldn’t, but you still have those latent insecurities from when you were 15 and boys in your class made fun of you. Somewhere inside you there is still that fragile and wounded teenager who thinks it’s impossible that someone could truly love you. Or even just desire you.

And you hate it, because Joel has done nothing but show you how much he enjoys spending time with you. And his compliments have always sounded sincere, his eyes are, they send you a reassuring image, full of admiration. He seems truly interested in you.

You're still in this internal monologue where you curse yourself for being like this when he asks you, "Would you like to go out to dinner tonight?"

Oh. He did it. He took the next step.

With your heart pounding in your chest and your mouth unable to help but curl into a smile you answer “yes!” a little too loudly.

You put a hand over your mouth as he looks at you amused “well, I’m glad you’re so excited about the idea. Should I pick you up at 8?”

“Yes, that sounds perfect” you reply, quietly this time but with a little firecracker in your chest that keeps banging where your heart is.

You finish your coffee and go out and he asks for your address which he writes down on his phone. You try to say that there is no need for him to bother but he insists on picking you up.

“Do you like Italian food?”

“I love it”

“Good, see you tonight” and this time his hand wraps around your arm and squeezes lightly as he leans down to give you a kiss on the cheek.

You return to the clinic feeling like you're walking on clouds.

You come home after working as hard as you can while still feeling anxious and completely unsure of what to wear. You know you didn't do anything wrong and that's a relief because you certainly can't mess up your patients' medications.

You jump in the shower, mentally going over everything in your closet. You decide to exclude any black dress because no, simply no. It's a special day and you want to wear a color. Maybe the green dress? No, green doesn't suit you, you don't even know why you bought it. Maybe the red one? But that one is very low-cut and you've rarely felt good enough to wear it. Maybe the blue one? The blue one is low-cut, but not too low-cut, it hugs you in the right way, it doesn't highlight what you don't want. Yes, maybe it's the right choice.

You hum in the shower as you wash your hair, satisfied with your decision.

You come out feeling invincible. Joel Miller has asked you to dinner. It’s been years since anyone has asked you out. You didn’t like the ones who did, and God only knows how much you miss good sex. Someone who touches you just right. Someone who makes you sigh and whimper and feel alive in his arms.

Someone who kisses you and leaves you breathless and doesn't hesitate to make you feel simply amazing as he goes down between your thighs.

Joel seems to have all the makings and miraculously seems eager to give you exactly that.

You slip into the dress and look at yourself in the mirror. You like the image it reflects. To hell with those stupid kids who always gave you shit and made you feel horrible.

You're going out to dinner with Joel Miller tonight.

Joel fucking Miller who in the high school categorization is the equivalent of the football quarterback.

The High School Prom King.

God, that makes you feel so good.

He rings the doorbell at 8:00 sharp, just as you’ve finished putting on your favorite lipstick. You take a deep breath as you go to open the door, placing your hand on the handle, and mentally preparing yourself for what you’ll find on the other side.

Finally you open it and he’s perfect. He looks like a painting framed by your door.

You stifle a scream with all your strength and say “hello” to him in a high pitched voice.

Goddamn you.

He doesn't even seem to notice. “So, miss, are you ready?”

“Sure, thank you.”

You grab your bag from the hall table and walk out with him. He takes your hand as he walks you to his pick up truck, opens the door and helps you get in.

Once in the driver's seat he turns to you and says "you look incredible tonight"

And you're about to say that after all you could skip dinner, who cares, instead you could go to your room and fuck. But you decide to behave as well as him, this man has a daughter to take care of and it seems like he's not looking for a one night stand judging by how many coffees he's offered you and how much he's put in to get to know you, so much so that by the second time he could order for you with his eyes closed, so you just say “you too” with the biggest smile widening on your face.

And oh, it's so true. He left aside the flannel shirts and the worn jeans and with them he was already the most attractive man who had ever caught your eye.

He’s wearing dark blue jeans and a beige shirt that hugs his strong biceps. You can glimpse his soft tummy as he drives, the last button before his belt tightening in a delicious way, his meaty thighs wrapped in those jeans are mouth watering.

The work he does makes him muscular in all the right places.

The car stops in front of the restaurant and he opens the door for you again. He lets you enter the restaurant first, he addresses the waitress politely and they place you at the best table in the restaurant. You are impressed, he did all this for you.

The evening passes pleasantly, you talk a lot and chat about everything, by now there is a familiarity between you that you have built over the weeks, you feel safe and comfortable with him. Finally. After so many failed and wrong relationships you feel like you have found someone right. Joel is not ashamed of you, he doesn't try to change you, he doesn't comment on your weight, he is truly a breath of fresh air.

And you see the way he looks at you, enraptured. His eyes sparkle as he talks to you and listens to you. He listens to what you have to say and never makes inappropriate comments.

You both have a sense of humor and you like that, you manage not to take yourself too seriously and laugh together. Which is hot. Extremely hot. Every time you see that dimple on his cheek pop up, your knees buckle and your heart melts. He’s so adorable.

You also like the fact that he talks to you about Sarah, it makes you feel involved in his life, it seems like he doesn't try to keep you separate from it.

“Sarah is at a sleepover at one of her friends. So…would you like to stay over tonight?” he says it looking you straight in the eye and you already know what it means.

It’s the night.

The big night.

After all, you felt it and put on your favorite lingerie.

“Sure I want to,” you reply, taking his hand across the table and squeezing it. His hands big and strong…you can’t wait to feel them all over your body.

He insists on paying the bill despite your protests, you walk out of the restaurant and toward the truck when Joel grabs your waist and presses you against the door. He’s an inch from your lips, you can feel his warm breath on your skin.

“Can I kiss you?”

“What if I say no?” you tease him with a mischievous smile.

His body is completely on top of yours and the truth is that you can already feel your panties getting wet.

“I would quit, but it wouldn’t be easy so I hope you’ll reconsider”

You giggle “okay” and you feel his hands tighten on your hips.

He presses his lips against yours and it's a sloppy, needy kiss, urgent, all spit and tongue.

It leaves you breathless and you wonder what he will do in bed if this is the effect he has on you with just one kiss.

In fact you are touching each other really for the first time, in these weeks you have imagined many times his lips, their taste, their softness, their warmth. Now you know that he exceeds all your expectations.

He's calmer now, his lips fit perfectly between yours, he gently nibbles your lower lip and continues to lick inside your mouth.

He’s divine.

Utterly divine.

His hands run up and down your hips and he's about to lift your dress and grab your thigh when you stop him. “Joel…”

He looks at you with bated breath and eyes begging for mercy. “Yes, sweetie?”

“Not here…please, take me home” you whisper and he sighs “okay”

You don't even know how you managed to stop but you want your first time to be just for the two of you, you don't want to risk prying eyes or voices shouting obscene comments getting in the way.

You're already nervous enough that he'll see you naked for the first time.

He makes you get back in the pick up and gets into the driver's seat, while he fastens his seat belt you cast an eye at his crotch and you realize he’s semi-hard.

While he's driving, you put your hand on his thigh, because he has to know how much you want him.

You squeeze gently and hear him grunt “Babe…don’t do it, I won’t make it home.” and you giggle.

His low, raspy voice drives you crazy, and for a moment while you're stopped at the traffic light you consider sliding down your seat and straddling him but no, just no, wrecking his car on your first date wouldn't be the best way to end it.

You take a deep breath, leaving your hand quietly on his leg, but you want… oh you want so much to move it up and reach his bulge and stroke it over his pants.

When he pulls up in his driveway in the cab of his pickup truck there's an electricity between you that could power a small village, you feel it fluctuating in the air.

He quickly unbuckles his belt and leans over you to unbuckle yours, not without kissing you. “Let's go, pretty lady, I feel like I can’t wait a minute longer”

You get out and run to the door, he nervously searches for his keys in his pockets and opens it. You don't even have time to look around, it's the first time you enter his house but you only see it fleetingly because he takes your hand and immediately drag you to the bedroom.

There’s a chest of drawers in one corner and a wardrobe, both made of dark wood, probably made by him.

In the center of the room there is a large bed with a headboard of the same wood, the walls are a beautiful cerulean blue, there are three paintings hanging above the bed.

The bed has beige sheets and a light beige duvet with white stripes.

It’s a very manly cozy room, he makes you sit on the bed and you feel how comfortable it is, it's like him, warm and soft.

He starts undressing in front of you, he takes off his shirt and unbuttons his jeans without taking his eyes off you, he seems hypnotized by you.

You suddenly feel like there's an emptiness in the pit of your stomach, you wonder if you're ready to make yourself so vulnerable in front of him.

Oh fuck, where did this come from now? Why? You were so happy just a second ago.

It was easy in public places, you were able to use irony and your defense tactics.

Now there’s just the two of you and you wanted that, you insisted for that and yet you feel exposed now.

You know it's right, your insecurities right now aren't from Joel. Joel makes you feel safe.

It's you, it's just you.

Joel notices your hesitation, comes closer and caresses your face then he gently takes your chin and raises your gaze towards his

“Are you okay?”

“Yes” you reply in a small voice.

“If you don’t want to do it, that’s okay, darling.”

Your voice cracks a little as you reply “no, oh no, Joel I want it”

“So what’s wrong? Talk to me, you can trust me, you know?” He slips his hand into your hair and caresses you gently, looking you intensely in the eyes.

It's so stupid, all night you've felt hungry and lustful for him and now… you're afraid that seeing you naked he might think he made a mistake.

“I…” you try to say. You know that he at least deserves sincerity from you “I… I’m ashamed”

Joel's eyes widen and a completely confused expression appears on his face “about what?”

He really doesn't seem to understand and it makes you feel a little frustrated

“About my body, about the fact that I'm not thin, I have stretch marks and many other defects and you will see them” you say it all in one breath feeling silly.

“Oh babe…no. Listen to me carefully: you’re absolutely gorgeous. You don't have to be afraid to undress in front of me, I'm sure that whatever is under your clothes is wonderful and deserves to be worshipped. I really like you. I'm not saying this just because I want to have sex. You’re beautiful, honey”

You feel tears stinging your eyes and you fight them back with all your strength “you could have anyone you want”

“I want you. I want you if you let me” his voice is firm, his fingers caress your jaw until they reach your lips and brush them gently.

“Do you trust me?”

Sure, why shouldn’t I. He’s never given me a reason not to. you say to yourself.

“Yes” you whisper

“I want nothing more than to make you feel good and I won’t do anything you don’t want.”

“I know”

“And you can always talk to me about anything, okay? I don’t want to make you regret this”

He is sincere. He is absolutely sincere and you can clearly see it in his big beautiful brown eyes.

“Okay” you smile

“And by the way…your curves make me absolutely feral” he gives you a mischievous smile.

“Yeah?” you say with a hint of surprise

“Sure. Would you let me prove it to you?” his hand is on your shoulder now and lingers on the strap of your dress.

“Yes, please Joel… yes”

Damn insecurities, they were about to make you lose the best man you've ever met.

And now you feel impatient again and want his hands everywhere.

Now you notice his broad chest, the freckles scattered across his skin, the happy trail of hair that ends up hidden by his jeans.

Now you can enjoy the view of his muscular shoulders and strong neck and you can't wait to taste his skin under your tongue.

His hands move slowly over you, he slides the straps of your dress and reveals your bra.

“Get up,” he says, “I want to show you something.”

You look at him in disbelief. “What?”

“Come with me” he takes your hand and makes you get out of bed.

He takes you to a full-length mirror in a corner of his room “Sarah made me buy this because she says I have to look at myself before I leave the house. She says I make terrible combinations when I get dressed. Sometimes I'm in a hurry and wear my shirt inside out or something like that." he says smiling and shaking his head.

You giggle and the confidential tone with which he speaks to you makes you feel special.

“Well I don't know if it's the mirror's merit but you did a good job tonight” you joke.

You are in front of the mirror and he is behind you “look at yourself”

You become serious again and observe yourself.

“Look how beautiful you are” he says in his deep and slightly hoarse voice“can I?” he asks placing his hands on the clasp of your bra. You nod.

He takes off your bra and drops it on the floor. You look at that woman in the mirror, you look at her skin and the roundness of her breasts and her hard nipples and then you look into his eyes and you see nothing but admiration “God, your breasts are amazing” you hear him say “can I touch them?” and you nod again “yes, please Joel”

He traces the outline with his fingers and then cups his hands and fills them with your tits.

You don't miss the moan of pleasure that he tries to stifle in his throat “they are so soft” he squeezes them delicately “mmm baby, they feel amazing in my hands”

He takes your nipples between his fingers and tugs on them slightly “and these? Look how sexy they are, I bet they would be delicious in my mouth”

You feel your skin heat up and your head spin, you squeeze your eyes shut at the sensation of his hands playing with yours hard buds and his words go straight to your cunt. He’s so good at this.

“Open your eyes, honey” he whispers in your ear “don't stop looking at yourself”

His hands leave your breasts and for a moment you want to take them and put them back there but you let him. He slides your dress down your hips, until you're left in your underwear in front of the mirror.

“You’re stunning” he punctuates every syllable on your skin making you tremble “absolutely gorgeous”

His hand slides over your stomach and your belly that always makes you feel insecure “Is that what worries you?” he asks as if he can read inside you “that you don't have a flat stomach? Honey, your tummy is amazing.”

He squeezes it and it seems incredible to you how delicate his big hands can be “It's full and delicious and sweet and I can't wait to bite into it”

You squirm, leaning over his broad chest “Oh my god” you moan

He caresses your hips with both hands, supporting you “and these… they feel welcoming and warm and mmm baby, so sensual. Can you see it? They fit my hands so perfectly”

You look at yourself and you've never felt this way.

Guided by his words you finally see yourself beautiful and desirable.

He slips his fingers under the edge of your panties “Can I?”

“Yes” you say in a breath

He slowly slides them off, revealing your pussy “Jesus.” He mutter “look at her. Look how perfect she is”

He just touches your mound and you feel hypnotized, his voice, his hands, the warmth of his body, it’s all too much.

“Oh baby… I love that you left that little strip of hair”

You can't hold back anymore and you whine “touch me Joel, I want more”

His voice vibrates on your soft skin again “Tell me what you want, in detail” He bites the spot where your neck meets your shoulder “I want to hear”

“Oh god… I want… I want your fingers inside me, stretching me just right” you babble “I want to feel full”

His fingers slide between your folds “God baby you’re soaking wet. It’s all for me?”

You squirm under his touch nodding repeatedly, you feel desperately needy and hungry.

“Yes. Please Joel”

“Please what, baby?” He ask maliciously

“Make me yours, make me all yours”

“Can you see how beautiful you are now?”

“Yes” you nod “yeah. Don’t make me wait any longer. I need you, Joel”

You can swear that right now you feel really beautiful and also the luckiest woman in the world.

“Oh, you're getting impatient now… I like that” he says in a hushed tone.

He's still behind you and holding you close, he's still wearing his jeans but you can feel his hard cock pressing against your ass.

You look small in his arms, he surrounds you completely.

He brings you back to the bed and makes you lie down, you are completely naked and yet you no longer feel ashamed and inadequate.

He takes off his jeans, remaining in a pair of black boxers.

At the sight of his erection poking out against the fabric you lick your lips in anticipation.

He lies on top of you, his eyes on yours, looking at you intently “You’re perfect, honey” and then his mouth crash into your neck, kissing and licking everything he can, he takes your skin between his lips sucking and biting like he was starving for you.

“Your skin is like velvet and you smell so good, fuck”

And you whimper and cry and clasp your hands on his shoulder digging your nails in them and you feel like you don’t need anything else in this life.

He lowers himself on your body, grazing at your skin with his lips, lingering for a while on your nipples and mumbling at how good they are.

“I love touching you with my mouth, tasting your curves against my lips” until he reaches your tummy giving sloppy kisses at it and then he bites it. His teeth are attentive and gentle but at the same time eager, like he wants to taste your whole being.

And then he come to your mound and traces your thin strip of hair with his tongue and you buck your hips and move one of your hands through his curls and you plead “more, Joel, please”

He grunts at you when you tug his hair and you look at him with the most miserable begging eyes you can pull out “You want it so bad, babe? Want me to eat you out?”

You mewl a yes and he smirk “want to come on my tongue?”

You nod again “yes”

He places himself between your thighs “God, she seems made for this. So sweet scented and pretty. I bet she tastes so good”

And in an instant he dives into your pussy and his nose bumps your clit as his tongue begins to lick you up and down, delving your folds and making your hips jerk.

Your legs are wrapped around his back and his hand is on your tummy holding you in place “god, you look so beautiful like that, my precious angel, all spread and ravenous for me” every word vibrates on your clit and make you moan loudly. It’s like a demon took possession of your body, an insatiable and aching demon that wants nothing but pleasure.

He nudges at your entrance with his tongue and you cry again for more “your fingers, Joel, please, give them to me”

He pushes two fingers inside your soaking wet hole, they enter just easily and he curls them up inside you reaching for your sweetest spot.

“fuck, yes” you howl “god they feel so good, they feel so fucking good, Joel”

“I know baby, I know, you’re taking them so perfectly”

He continues to swirl his tongue over your clit as he pump his fingers in and out of you, increasing the pace when you can’t hold your moans anymore and you’re so loud you almost fear his neighbors can hear you “God, Joel, I’m coming - I’m - coming ah- god you’re incr- ah” you’re totally babbling trying to get a complete sentence out of your mouth and you can’t, you just can’t because he’s too much and you never felt that good before.

“Soak my fingers, babe, soak my face, give it all to me”

Your pussy clench around his fingers and you feel breathless as your orgasm washes all over you, his dirty talk made you over the edge.

You whine his name as you come, again and again and he doesn’t stop lapping at you until you’re calm.

He lies down next to you, wrapping his arms around you, you bury your head in the crook of his neck and sigh, “Oh, Joel.”

His hand sits on your ass squeezing gently “Such a good girl for me. I can’t believe you almost called yourself out from this”

You playfully pinch one his nipples “don’t make a fool of me”

“I would never” he says, kissing your hair “I’m just saying that you’re too good to not be taken care of. Your body deserves to feel passion and lust and all of that”

“On that note… there’s something else I’d like to do” you look at him maliciously

“What, baby?”

“I would love to… uhm… fuck, I would love to give you head”

He tilt his head “excuse me miss? Watch your mouth!” You giggle hiding your face in his chest and he laugh, and then he goes serious and ask “You sure? You don’t have to do that if you don’t want to”

“Yeah, I know” and you raise your face to kiss the lovely bald patch in his beard and you move to his ear and you whisper “I really want that though”

“As you please, sunshine”

You cup his bulge in his boxer and stroke it gently over the fabric “someone else here needs to be taken care of too”

He grunts “yeah, baby, keep going like that”

“Actually… I can make it even better” and you move from his side getting on your knees on the bed and then sitting on your heels as you keep stroking him.

You lower his boxer and his cock spring free, he’s already hard as rock. You lick your lips “delicious” and he looks at you mischievously “I guess you can be naughtier than I thought, baby”

You smirk back at him, lowering yourself on his groin and kissing the tip of his cock, just the tip, gently as a feather.

You giggle and pull back as he bucks up his hips to your mouth “so impatient, aren’t you?”

“It’s just… I didn’t have anyone giving me head in a very long time”

You open your eyes wide “I don't believe it”

“I swear” he says in a lower hoarse tone “I didn’t… I had some one night stand here and there but nothing serious, you know, I needed to be focused on Sarah and my work. so everything was quick and meaningless”

You can’t imagine Joel having meaningless sex with anybody, he’s so respectful and attentive with you.

You raise an eyebrow. “Joel Miller, do you mean to make me believe that all the women in the neighborhood aren’t in love with you?”

“Oh Rose loves me for sure” and you laugh “but about the others… I don’t know, some of them tried a couple of times but I always rejected them. I told you, I didn’t have time for complications”

“Then why you’ve changed your mind now?”

“Sarah threatened to sign me up for Tinder if I didn't find someone. And then I met you”

You giggle “so you went out with me to be safe from Tinder”

“At first, maybe. But now you know that it's not just that, right?”

“Yeah, I know.”

What he just did speaks volumes about how much he likes you.

And you’re even more convinced now.

You lower your head and lick the tip again swirling your tongue around it and he moans.

You slide your tongue flat along his length and wrap your hand around the base. It's big, bigger than you expected but you don't feel intimidated.

“Oh baby, you’re so good to me, what have I done to deserve such a perfect girl?”

He gasps when you took all you can of his cock in your mouth, feeling his length sliding over your tongue and his musky taste invading your palate, you whine beginning to suck like you’re desperate, stroking the rest of it with your fingers.

It doesn’t take too much before you start feeling him throbbing between your lips, he’s right on the edge as you suck and lick and kiss him like the most delicious lollipop you’ve ever had.

He pants loudly bucking his hips “Baby I’m almost - AH- almost there”

You make his cock pop out of your mouth “finish inside me, then”

“You sure?”

“Yes, I’m on the pill” you nod straddling his crotch and positioning his cock at your entrance.

You slowly lower yourself feeling the tip force its way into your hole and you moan with every inch that pushes its way inside you.

You stay still for a moment feeling his cock fill you up completely.

He says nothing but he looks you in the eyes and the brown of his pupils has become incredibly dark.

Eventually you start moving on top of him, placing your hands on his chest, your pussy making lewd sounds and your tits bouncing, he takes them in his hands squeezing them as he sinks into you, deeper and deeper and harder and harder.

You’re basically riding him and you've never felt so wild and free, your insecurities just disappeared clouded by your pleasure.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so gorgeous like this, look at the way your hips move, it’s so fucking amazing”

You throw yourself onto his chest as you feel his seed paint your walls, you take his mouth with yours stifling his moans that echo inside you.

He slides a hand between you, searching for your clit, and his calloused fingers begin to move over it. You end the kiss to look into his eyes, “don’t stop” he whispers “come for me baby.”

Your head feels light and your vision blurs as you feel your orgasm building up from the depths of your tummy, your pussy clenching and squeezing his cock.

You gush all over him like never before, making a mess of his crotch and the sheets underneath, crying his name so hard.

You rest your head next to his, inhaling the smell of tobacco, wood and the sweat of his neck, and you laugh, you laugh joyfully, “God,” and he does the same, wrapping his arms around you and caressing your back “Nothing like this has ever happened to me before, I'm sorry”

He holds you tighter “you don't have to be sorry, darling, it was wonderful”

“I made such a mess” you murmur

“So what? Nothing that laundry can’t fix. And I’m good at laundry, you know?”

He kisses your forehead and stroke your cheek “I haven't felt this good in ages”

“Yeah, me too” you kiss him wrapping one your leg around his.

You both stay quiet for a while, enjoying each other’s warmth, kissing every now and then suddenly it hits you and you say, “Do you know who we owe all this to?”

“No, I don’t honey, to whom?” he asks confused.

“Rose” you say “Think about it, if I hadn't brought her medicines that day we wouldn't be here now."

“That’s true. I think we should go visit her and bring her a nice present.”

“Yes. She will love the story of how we met.”

You kiss him again and think about what gift could match this. Probably none, because it's the best thing that's ever happened to you.

[kanmom51]

Please help 😅 I think there is something or some conversation l have missed in JIKOOK’s timeline. Something about our Jimin getting so upset that he left the members and went home to heal from some trauma caused by V & Jk ?? The next we heard about him was when he was hospitalised suffering from covid?? Please fill in the blanks for me if you know any deets.. l would be grateful. No pressure though😂🫶🏽

Idk what fan fiction this is from, but WOW.

JM healing from trauma caused by V and JK?

The next was when he was hospitalized with covid?

Bull bloody shit is what I can tell you.

But let's look at the timeline why don't we?

At least what we know of it.

JM was hospitalized end of January 2022. Not because of covid but because of his appendix, and when in hospital tested positive for covid.

This followed the group going on a break after their 4 concerts in LA in November 2021.

Last time we had all three together was in their live on 28 November 2021. That was a chaotic super happy live. Only bullying I can think of, jokingly, would be Tae constantly mentioning brand names he wasn't supposed to, lol.

You can find many links to posts I wrote about that live here:

Then JK and JM returned to Korea with Jin. Just the three of them. They were supposed to go into quarantine as they returned, separately, as the government rules stated, and yet JK waited for JM at the airport upon their arrival thinking that they will be sharing a car only for the two to be separated.

There is absolutely, and I repeat absolutely NOTHING to show that there was anything wrong between JM and JK at that place and time!!!

JM and JK were fine, and there was no bullying going on from Tae and JK. What AO3 fanfic is that even?

As for the stupidity I've been hearing of since Ep. 3 of Are you sure? JK and V bullying JM, like wtf is wrong with people?

Every time I think people have reached the limit of being the worst they just prove that they can surpass themselves.

I think people lack basic ideas of human interactions if they claim that the playfulness we saw in that episode can be called bullying. If that's bullying then every single time those three played throughout the years would also be. These are 3 young men who grew up together and at times roughhouse. Like men do.

I've kind of lost hope in trying to explain to these people, who love to see JM as a victim, and therefore think they are his knights in shining armour, that JM is a grown ass man who knows exactly how to put both JK and Tae in their places if he wanted to!!! He's got the physical strength to do so, not to mention the personality too. He's known to have done both, when he wanted. And here's the news flash. Maybe he didn't want to! JM knows how to be assertive. Being such a nice human being doesn't make him a weak human being. I think that many of those that claim to love him and want to protect him either don't know him at all or want him to be weak so they can show up as his great protectors against the big bad JK, whom they would love to get rid of, cause he's just not good enough for JM, in their warped reality. Perhaps because they want JM for themselves.

JK is the person that JM loves most in this world.

The person that stood by JM's side and supported him when he was going through the turmoil he was experiencing during the pandemic.

The person that JM wanted to go on these trips with and came up with the idea to create this show so that they can go on these trips together.

The person that he flew from Korea to NY to be with for his solo debut.

The person that he can't stop talking about and bringing up in conversations that have really nothing to do with him, like during the Minimoni album exchange.

The man he chose to write a song for and write these lines to:

Baby, don't leave Just stay by my side, yeah To you, who see me bigger than what my little self is (to you) So that I can give as much as I’ve received (oh-oh) So that I can keep my word (oh-oh) Don't worry, just stay by my side, yeah (Yeah) We don’t know what the future holds (holds, yeah) And that’s scary and makes us afraid (oh-oh) But don’t forget that we’re always together (don't forget)

The person he chose to enlist with and be with for the 18 months of their military service, even though it meant a more difficult placement, even though it would raise eyebrows and questions marks seeing that the two are the first ever idols, both in their late 20s to do this!!

I've said this once I've said this a thousand times. People need to go live their lives and stop looking for drama where it doesn't exist in JM and JK's life.

They are together.

They are good.

Even if they are idols and public figures.

Even if they are two gorgeous young men who happen to love each other and are, god forbid, in a queer relationship.

Even if being in a queer relationship in their industry and society is frowned upon.

All those don't mean that their relationship isn't just a normal stable long term relationship with everything that such a loving relationship entails, including the struggles.

Enough with trying to insert drama where there is none.

[urbancripple]

To able‐bodied people, wheelchair users have a certain mystique. They’re constantly asking us about how our bodies do or don’t work, whether we can have sex, why we haven't just killed ourselves yet. But despite their intrusive questioning, there is one area that ableds seem to be absolutely certain about: the existence of ultra‐convenient readily‐available accessibility modifications and mobility aids.

As wheelchair users, how many times have we been told to “put some chains on that thing!” As we struggle through the snow? How often is it suggested that we get a hand‐bike so that we can cycle to work like our coworkers? If I had a nickel for every time someone suggested I attach some tried‐and‐true motor to my chair, I’d have enough money to pay someone to invent it.

People are constantly sending me links to articles and videos to supposed life‐changing mobility aids that can climb stairs or move over rough terrain. They tell me that things can’t be that difficult with a constant stream of new, convenient doo‐dads being put out in the world. Hell, when discussing how difficult it is to find a single‐story home in Seattle (existing or custom), the suggestion was made that I simply build a multi‐story home but also put an elevator in.

Here’s the thing though: has anyone, wheelchair‐user or otherwise, actually seen any of these so‐called solutions in person? The stair‐climbing wheelchair? The magical snow tires? The super fast motor? I haven’t. As for the elevators and hand bikes, I can count the number I’ve seen on one hand and I’d need way more fingers and toes to show you the price tag.

Despite their near non‐existence or insurmountable financial cost, people keep telling me I just need to “get me one of those…” and continue to cast my existence and the problems that come with it in a mythical light.

An elevator for your house starts at around six‐thousand dollars. If you want one that doesn’t look like the rickety stair‐lift at your local Eagle’s Club, it’ll cost you upwards of sixty‐thousand.

The price of an average, entry‐level bike is four‐hundred bucks. If you want an accessible hand bike, you’re going to start around a grand.

Custom wheelchair tires can vary anywhere from two to five thousand, often times costing more than the chair they’re attached to.

That stair climbing chair? Eleven grand. Want something that’s a little more “every day”? That’ll cost you seventeen grand. Just need a motor for your day chair? Six grand and it weighs fifteen pounds.

Now, some folks might be thinking “sure, it’s expensive now, but the price will come down as technology improves and more people buy these devices”. But with an employment rate of roughly 7 percent (before COVID) and rules governing the amount of money disabled people on SSI can have in the bank (no more than two-thousand dollars), most wheelchair users can’t even save up to buy one of these devices. And no, insurance won’t cover any it.

A lack of accessibility is not something we can just “tech” our way out of and disabled people should not expected to purchase access to a world that everyone else gets for free. Talking about mobility aids you’ve never used or seen when someone is trying to explain to you the barriers they face in their day to day life due to a lack of accessibility isn’t helpful, it’s dismissive. Quit doing it.

[sunflowersandsapphires]

Self-Indulgent HCs

pairing(s): Frank Castle x fem!Reader, Matt Murdock x fem!Reader, Michael Kinsella x fem!Reader

summary: How each of the boys would care for you when you were sick, headcanons bc i am tired

warnings: non-graphic, general descriptions of sickness (just cold/fever, not covid)

a/n: this month was already rough on my allergies but i came down with quite possibly the worst cold I’ve ever had. (It’s literally so bad i had to use PTO instead of WFH days? I am literally dying.) I wrote this when I was feverish and couldn’t sleep to make myself feel better. I hope someone out there likes it 😭

Frank

I think Frank would worry a lot when his partner was sick.

He’s lost so many people and he doesn’t have a huge circle so i think it takes him by surprise a little.

But he’d do his best to hide his worries by going about his day and comforting you.

He’d get fresh produce from the store and make you delicious soup, pick up tissues and medicine for you, threaten anyone who tried to make you go into work

“Your boss still pullin’ that shit? Gimme the phone, let me talk to ‘em”

He loves being your big spoon anyways but he would not let you go if you looked or sounded ill. You’d be nestled carefully against his chest while he stroked your back until you fell asleep.

He’d keep you entertained by reading to you or watching whatever TV your fever-ridden mind is craving.

Above all, he wouldn’t leave your side until you were feeling better.

The smile on his face the next time you take him out would be brilliant. He’s just so happy that you’re here with him and feeling better.

Matt

Personally, i hate the idea of getting people sick more than actually being sick sometimes but i think this would especially be the case with Matt

His senses are so delicate, I wouldn’t want to fuck with him by being gross and loud or by getting him sick.

But there is no way this man isn’t the biggest self-sacrificing-mother-hen when someone he loves is sick.

He’d sense your illness before you would, and encourage you to take it easy and sleep a bit extra that week (above all, he’s a hypocrite.)

Of course, he’s a bit embarrassed of everything he can do, or maybe you don’t know the extent of what he is capable of, so he plays it off as “you’ve been working so hard lately, sweetheart, you need to take it easy.”

A day or two before the bug hits you like a truck, he’d come over with a bag from the pharmacy that’s just chock-full of DayQuil and Tea and cough drops and like a single bandaid

He poorly plays it off as “uh, your first aid kit was low, remember?”

Once you’re well and truly sick, he’d be stubborn as a mule if you tried to keep him away. You lock him out of your apartment? You wake up from a nap wrapped in a Devil-shaped blanket to find that someone picked your window lock.

At that point, you just cave and let him stay because you are so cold and he’s so so warm.

Mikey

Not afraid of using his puppy dog eyes to get you to stay home or in bed.

Also not afraid of crying wolf and pretending that he’s not feeling well to make you take a break

“Sorry, pet, my head is hammerin’. Think we could lay down fer a bit?”

Combined WITH the puppy eyes? You don’t stand a chance.

Though you usually take care of the housework while he’s dealing with his family’s business, he wouldn’t let you lift a finger until your temperature was normal and your voice came back.

It’s as if you’re the only person that exists to him, he’s running around trying to anticipate your every need.

It’s been a while since he’s dealt with the real world so he might ask Birdy for advice on how to care for a sick person.

Lots of home remedies (idk just vibes.)

He would have you lean against him in a scalding shower to clear your sinuses or draw you a nice bath.

Keep cool water and a cloth by the bed to bring your fever down.

Hand you cup after cup of tea until you have to threaten to tie him to the bed.

“Just lay with me, please”

“Of course, pet. Anything fer ya.”

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

I still share plants opinion regarding IG. I think they’re phasing harry out, in part because he contributes very little compared to what they spend on him. And secondly the UK military no longer want him as the poster child post spare release. And the only reason why it hasn’t happened yet is because of Charles. But I personally don’t think that Charles influence will continue that much longer. IG wants to get rid of them, and if he doesn’t show up to the event in may it’s rather easy for the UK to not award the next games location. Would harry put up a stink?? Absolutely, but that’s when they’ll pivot on in on her and ARO.

I agree. I wouldn’t be surprised if Invictus Games has been trying to cut Harry lose since Megxit when they lost their Royal prestige. Because without Harry’s Royal status connecting them to the UK Ministry of Defense, what exactly is he needed for?

I think it was Plant who said this (but it could’ve been another blog) but Harry and Meghan have managed to make *every* *single* Invictus Games about them:

2017 Toronto IG: they debuted their relationship and it was all anyone talked about

2018 Sydney IG: they announced Meghan’s pregnancy and it was all anyone talked about. Not only, there’s pretty consistent gossip that the Sussexes only showed up for the ceremonies and barely attended the actual events/games.

2020 Dutch IG: postponed to 2021 because of Covid

2021 Dutch IG: postponed to 2022 because of the Olympics and no one wanting to risk their spots on national teams (though the official story is that it was postponed for Covid).

2022 Dutch IG: they turned it into Meghan’s Fashion Show (and stiffed IG with all the bills) and a BetterUp sponcon. But all anyone talked about was their pre-IG visit to Windsor to see The Queen for the first time since Megxit (a visit that Meghan had to leak directly because there were no photographs).

2023 Düsseldorf Games: another Meghan merchfest and BetterUp sponcon, but all anyone talked about was Harry’s papwalk visiting his grandmother’s grave on the anniversary of her passing and his comments about it.

It’s not good for any charity’s bottom line if their patron or sponsor is dominating the news to the point that their spotlight excludes the charity itself. There are definitely people at Invictus who understand this and who are probably fighting hard to let Harry go.

After all, Germany is able to do its own national Games independent of the charity and without Harry. Reading between the lines: Germany Invictus has some kind of corporate backing from the “main” charity to do this spin-off version. Especially if it was made clear that they didn’t want the Sussexes involved (as the press did when the announcement was made).

I know I said this before but I think it bears repeating: if Germany Invictus does really well without “main” IG and without Harry “promoting” it, I think they’ll go ahead and cut Harry loose altogether because it will have proven what’s been known since 2018 - that the Sussexes are a huge liability for the people they claim to support and advocate for.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for being upset that my best friend slept with my recent ex and then told me about it in a group chat with multiple people?

I dated someone and we were super close, I was devastated when we broke up. One week later, my best friend initiated a FWB relationship, and told everyone in our friend group about it but me. About three weeks into their arrangement, the friend told me about it by writing in our group chat, "When you have to take a COVID test so that [my ex's name] can fuck you again smh." I DM'd them to ask what that was about and they told me about their arrangement, and also that I was the only person in the friend group who hadn't known the day it began.

Obviously I was upset both by their arrangement and by their method of telling me, which I thought was insensitive. I didn't want to overreact, though, so I didn't tell them I was upset, just said "congratulations" and acted normal. I wanted time to think it over before deciding what to say to the friend, if anything. The friend didn't notice, but my ex was more perceptive, and figured out that I was hiding some feelings. I told them that I was upset by the situation but that I wanted to think about it and calm down before talking about it, and to please not tell the friend that I was upset.

The very next day, the friend sent me a long ass email - like a 500 word essay - saying that my ex had told them I was upset despite my request to keep it between us, detailing all the reasons why THEY thought I might be upset, and then invalidating every single possible reason using logic that boiled down to "I'm not obligated to care about your feelings, your feelings are illogical, and actually by being upset at all youre being oversensitive and controlling." They ended the email by saying they never wanted to speak to me again.

I know that people are entitled to having relationships with whoever they want, and I wasn't angry at them for that. I was wounded, but I would've gotten over it. It was the way they handled all of the communication - they told me about it when I was still grieving the breakup instead of waiting until I was doing a bit better, told me in a group chat by making a joke instead of even sending me a private text message, AND told me that everyone in our friend group had known already except me. On top of that, upon finding out I was upset, they didn't even ask me about it or wait for me to reach out - they pre-decided why I could be upset and that I had no right to be, without even hearing my point of view. It just seemed as though they were trying to be as insensitive and calloused as they possibly could. Am I in the wrong here?

What are these acronyms?

[drdemonprince]

It’s “urks me” anon. I agree with your reply very much. I know I sent the ask but you did not have to reply as in depth as you did and it genuinely made me feel a lot more comfortable with the space you are creating. I kinda wish you had explained yourself that well in the beginning but hey I of all people know online communication is difficult and this is an evolving convo. Also I’m going to be real your followers have been being a lot more annoying than you ever could be and it was affecting my mood when talking to you. It’s less that healthy people talking about risk management inherently annoys me and more that they are constantly slipping in microaggressions and minor misinfo when they talk about it. Even if the choices they are making are (sometimes…) reasonable it is so obvious that they were not listening to the important technical details vulnerable people were speaking and only heard “blah blah blah scary stuff and restrictions blah blah blah” like…!? I think overshaming is one piece of the puzzle. But I think a lot of people, including many so called allies and covid-aware people, simply don’t listen to us very carefully regardless of how diplomatic we’re being. Maybe they think they already know the technical details even though they clearly don’t? Idk it’s very irritating.

Thanks for your message. This is another place where I get very enraged at our public institutions for failing us so catastrophically! We have all been so systematically misled about COVID, and the actual infection numbers and other ever-evolving data on how it's currently spreading is actively covered up, and not made accessible by journalistic institutions, so on that level I do not hold individiduals reponsible for not understanding things.

Chronically ill, disabled, and otherwise COVID-conscious people have been forced to become the public health information apparatus and have done incredible amounts of thankless work geneating the data, reporting on it, monitoring wastewater levels, delving deeply into the latest research, creating infographics, and trying to spread the word to the public about it, but they have no assistance in it, and no platform beyond what they can build online. and those online communities tend to become siloed because of how social media algorithms work, and so people who have been spreading the facts relentlessly every single day routinely bump up against people who do not see those same posts hardly ever because they are in different pockets of the internet. Which comes down both to their choices and priorities, and due to algortihmic echo-chambers, and economic and political incentive structures silencing the work that COVID-conscious folks do.

And yes, also, people very much do shut down and turn away when confronted with scary information... that's a very well-established fact within public health and persuasion science that has remained a real barrier to public awareness campaigns for a long time. People do not process information about death and threat well at all. So much so that many public health intitatives of the past had to limit talk of death and scary outcomes if they want people to things like get a cancer screening or contemplate quitting smoking. the cigarette companies themselves funded "anti smoking" campaigns that were awash in images of death and bodily decay because they knew those kinds of messages shut people down and actually make them less likely to quit. (i write a lot about this stuff in my new book).

This is where conversations about tactics do become relevant again -- mentioning death or the direness of long COVID isn't "shaming", it's not moral sanctimoniousness, it's not "wrong" to do, it is accurate! but it doesn't usually work persuasively. and I do think there is more we could do to frame masking and taking covid mitigation measures as a thing for a person to take pride in, feel empowered by, and feel connected to others by doing, which generally is what we find to be more effective in public health research.

to return to the cancer comparison, we tend to find that "think of how much peace of mind you'll feel after your cancer screening! take a positive step for your health!" is a more effective framing that actually inspires behavioral change than "if you don't find out that you have pancreatic cancer in time you will most likely die. here are the stats on how many people die of it." That kind of messaging tends to make people less likely to take proactive steps. even though it's all rooted in actual facts.

I have seen some propaganda (postive connotation) evoking a kind of positive, empowering idea regarding masking at protests, but I'd love to see more of it. Sounding the alarm repeatedly does not work for a variety of psychological reasons. people get both numb to it if they've heard something is a "pressing serious life and death emergency" for long enough, and paradoxically, they also overwhelmed by the bleakness. we see a similar thing happening with climate change. these situations ARE dire and people SHOULD care, but in order to make caring feel concrete and possible, behaviorally, we have to frame information in an empowering way.

of course, there are COVID conscious people who do do that and devote lots of energy to crafting such persuasive messages! and still have to cope with being silenced, downgraded by the algorithm, ignored, attacked by anti-maskers, etc. and lots of people understandably feel that they have tried everything and that people still don't care. from where they are sitting as one person that's the emotional reality and that's often the lived intepersonal experience. but that appearance of other people not caring was engineered...and lord i hope we can find a way to socially engineer a collective way out of it, because what we are doing isn't working well enough. unfortunately the thing we need the most desperately is just more people spreading the message and giving a shit.

[void-of-unparalled-chaos]

Twice now I have tried to make a reblog reply about Walter and twice now Tumblr has eaten it. So let's try it this way @chaos-bringer-13

Allow me to take you back to the ✨QUARANTINE DAYS✨ and tell you the tale of a pumpkin that may or may not have housed a god

So back in good old 2020/21 we are in the thrall of the COVID-19 pandemic. My state in particular had super heavy quarantine restrictions, and as someone with lung issues, my mom and myself were not taking any chances. I haven't left my house in maybe 5 months. Nor have I seen any of my friends outside of video calls. Senior year of High School so far has sucked.

I'm talking to my friend, we'll call her Marie, and I mention off hand "Yeah I'm starting to feel a bit lonely." Now Marie has known me for a solid 8 years at this point. She knows my type of humor and attachment to what we would now and days call "skrungly" objects. She decides "hmm. I can fix this!"

Marie's mom (who was... certainly a human being) for some god forsaken reason decided to buy a white pumpkin and give it to Marie with the idea that she would harvest the seeds from it and plant them in the garden (why she did this instead of just buying pumpkin seeds I will never know). Instead of doing this, Marie takes this pumpkin and draws a realistic face on it that can only be described as similar to the handsome squidward meme. She drives to my house, sets the pumpkin on my doorstep with a note, and then FUCKING BOOKS IT.

I open the door to see this pumpkin with a note that reads "Hello Momther, I am Walter."

(Not the best photo but this is in fact Walter sitting in the dark in my front yard while Marie (not pictured) stands on my driveway holding a single candle and chanting).

Anyway immediately I take him inside completely smitten and unknowing as to what this pumpkin will create.

At this point of quarantine, we have gone back to classes but they are completely online. I decide that the best thing I could possibly do with Walter is set him on a stack of notebooks behind me so that when I turn my camera on he would be there... watching. Notably, one guy who never unmuted himself did so just long enough to ask "Void... what the fuck is that."

Needless to say I got endless entertainment from the reactions, but all good things have to come to an end. Unfortunately, I live in a desert and pumpkins simply don't survive. They typically would rot within a few days where I was living at the time, so my Mom told me to move it outside at least. I decide to put him by the front door. This front door has a little half wall that leads up to it. I put him on top of it facing the walkway so whenever a package is delivered the mailman would be faced with Walter and have to make eye contact before leaving the mail. I figure I'll probably get a couple more days out of him before he rots.

This is where it starts to get weird

Another week passes. Two. Unlike every single pumpkin I've ever had for Halloween, Walter shows no signs of rotting despite being exposed to the elements. The pumpkin is at this point about a month and a half old and still perfectly fine. Marie, our friends, and I all kind of laugh it off as a random one time thing and expect it to rot within another week.

IT. FUCKING. DOESN'T.

4 months into having Walter and he is still as good as new. Around this time the vaccines for covid started rolling out, so my friends and I get to see each other again. They are just as baffled as me about Walter. Of course, us being us, we have been referring to Walter like an actual person this whole time because that's just our humor. We give him little head pats and forehead rubs as we enter or leave my house and say hello/goodbye to him.

Also around this time, my mom and myself are beginning to prep for moving to another state. We have also started doing some in person classes again. I had been cleaning out my room one morning, and just so happened to leave a piece of sea glass in front of Walter as I left for school. I had a strangely good day. Managed to get an A on a test if I remember right. I come home, see the glass in front of the pumpkin, and start thinking. The next day I leave him something else. Another good luck day! I try this again and every single time I leave him an offering something good happens! I tell my friends about it and they start doing it too and experiencing the same results. We decide that he must be some god of luck inhabiting this pumpkin vessel and rewinding time on it to keep it from rotting.

At some point someone gave him an orange and I swear to god the pumpkin started getting orange marks on its forehead. He still wasn't rotting though! We decided that he obviously has been absorbing the power from the offerings.

Around this time I realise the I have somehow created a partially serious cult and decide I might as well lean into it. I actually enlisted the help of the neighbor kids to take this photo.

Time passes. Walter is about 10 months old now and still going strong. We have graduated highschool and I'm going to be moving in a week. I can't take Walter with me, so Marie decides she will take him. But first, she is going to help us move. It's a 6 hour drive. We put Walter in the passenger seat window so that all the cars passing us can see him.

After she helps us, Marie and Walter continue on to yet another state where Marie will be attending university. Walter is almost if not a year old when he finally starts to rot. Marie, in her dorm room mind you, makes a plaster cast of his head and redraws his face on it. To this day Walter hangs in his new, more durable vessel, guarding her spice cabinet.

By the end of Walter's reign, he had reached his 1st birthday, scared who knows how many mailmen, met 3 of my teachers in person, visited 3 USA states, and briefly had an instagram account.

[thottybrucewayne]

A LIST OF PEOPLE WHO ARE GOING TO HELL: 2024 EDITION

Every zionist, duh, but esp yall who screenshot perfectly reasonable posts and go "Um, the look at this idiot who thinks genocide is wrong" yall make my ass itch and nobody takes you seriously, MOVE. 2. The entire U.S. government but esp Joe Biden that old ass man gettin spit roasted in hell (AND NOT THE FUN KIND!) 3. DIDDY AND EVERY SINGLE PERSON THAT PROTECTED AND DEFENDED HIM. 4. Tory Lanez whole family, his mama, his daddy, his dog? All them. 5. The nonblack people who run those Rap House Tv type blogs that are clearly trying to be shade room clones. 6. People who get all their news from the Shade Room and Whatsapp, sorry auntie, I'm sick of you tellin' me COVID can be cured by sticking cloves of garlic up my nose :/ 7. Every single one of you dirtbag leftist ass people, yall do nothing for nobody except you thousands of adoring "former nazi" fans that need to be told it's okay that they still say the n word in private. 8. N.O.R.E and every single hiphop "journalist" 9. Charlemagne Tha God and Dj Envy, they know why. 10. Everyone who made Ike and Tina jokes after Tina past away. Grow up. 11. You fanfic girlies. So many of y'all are seeing the lake of fire, But esp if you donate to ao3 or own ao3 merch. Like, that is just embarrassing. 12. It's 2024, If I see you coming up here saying shit like "Miku wroke harry potter!" or " Hello Kitty wrote Ofmed, actually" I'm sending you to hell myself. 13. Booktokers? This is yall the second year on this list, tighten the fuck up and stop being weird about strange men on the internet, now. 14. People who do LITERALLY NOTHING yet try to tell other people how to be activists. You contribute nothing to any conversation you're a part of, suck my dick from the back. 15. People who stopped masking because other people were making them feel bad. Fuck your mama not being able to see your smile, PEOPLE ARE DYING???? 16. Lana Del Ray and Taylor Swift. They know exactly what they did. 17. Every white girl on twt who tried to jump me cause I said the Barbie movie is white feminism at its finest. 18. Elon, you raggedy bitch. 19. Every single man who hit on me this year who isn't one of my friends. 20. People who don't know what transmisogyny means and make that everyone else's problem. I need yall to start reading so bad it's not even funny. 21. You "goth is a feeling" people. You gonna be "feeling" that hell fire nippin' at your ass, NEXT 22. You 35 defending fanservice of high schoolers in anime/manga all day every day...yeah, just get on down there, big fella. They waiting on you. 23. Cishet Black men on tiktok and twt who make it their life's mission to make an ass of themselves for minor ducats. You are a one-man modern-day minstrel show and you will be dealt with. 24. White Tyler The Creator fans. Y'all know what you do.

Dishonorable mentions: Shojo fans who never talk about the fucked up shit in the manga they recc you because "At least its not as misogynistic as shounen!" (yes, yes it is) Fashion tiktokkers I hate so many of you its not even funny Every person who put the image of T.D. Jakes getting his doonies beat down at a Diddy party in my mind. Like I literally never needed to think about that. My dad <3 and all my friends' dads. Patricide NOW!!!!! People who are still whining about having to boycott shut upppppp god damn. People who stare at me in public. You got a fuckin problem?????

That's a wrap! Here are the lists from last year and the year before feel free to add more in the tags <3

[jinx-blackout-84]

Been trying to put a finger on why the Dream situation pisses me off and I think I figured it out.

I spent nights staring at my ceiling listening to change my clothes and dreaming about a future that I'm scared I'll never get to have. I watched every single one of his videos, read the fanfiction, sang the songs, knew the memes and jokes, couldn't look at a kettle or fork or the goddamn color green without thinking about him. And yeah, maybe it was weird, but I was TWELVE and he was the first person I had ever seen in media that was like me. That couldn't sit still, that talked weird, that just didn't quite fit in. I had a community when I was watching tiktoks about him and reading countless Tumblr posts about the dsmp lore.

It was covid and I was a kid and I was lonely and I needed so badly to have a place where I didn't have to watch the walls in my room seemed to get closer every moment.

I started having panic attacks when I went out in public, the people I was friends with started to realize I wasn't normal, that full body twitches and flappy hands weren't the typical reaction to a good song or too-bright lights. I was so lonely.

And then I found Dream's videos. And they helped me have a place where I wasn't alone in my room, feeling like a crazy person for my tics and my gender.

I cared so fucking much about this guy, trusted him with that naive trust that kids have that people are telling the truth, and then he turned out to be taking advantage of that in his fans.

It really fucking sucked to find out that my idol wasn't a good person.

And I had him on a pedestal, I thought he was perfect, I would have taken a bullet for him, alright? I cared so much because he was the only person I had ever seen who was like me.

It wasn't normal. It wasn't just me being a normal fan. I was a stan, was a parasocial fan, whatever you want to call it.

Burt he didn't do anything to stop thousands of kids just like me from being parasocial, in fact he encouraged it.

It just bothers me to think that the entire time he was telling us he cared, 12 year old me was just another viewer. Not because I was just another viewer, but because he lied to me and told me I wasn't. I am fine with just being a fan, but being told that I'm important and significant by someone who has no way of caring about me really sucked. It sucked because it really felt like he cared, but I was always just another view, another like, another subscriber, commenter, buyer. Just another consumer.

I was emotionally dependent on him and he did nothing to discourage that behavior from thousands of fans and it's disgusting because now he's taking advantage of those same fans, using them for money, flirting with MINORS that have been conditioned to care about him.

And now a huge portion of my childhood, a huge portion of the happiness I got from being part of his community, feels so gross and tainted and I will never get to have that again. I will never get to have back those days where I could watch his videos and listen to his songs.

And I fucking loved the songs.

I loved the music, music has always been a huge deal for me, and I loved it.

Now every time I hear those stupid songs I'm taken back to when I was twelve, picturing high school and thinking about my friends and all of the things twelve year olds care about. And I miss it, and I miss the stupid songs, because I can't hear them the same anymore and they should be special to me. They should be honey-dipped nostalgia and now they are gross and unsettling.

It fucking sucks to see him parade around and talk about how he deserve sympathy because he is autistic, however true that may be, because I am autistic, and it's not fun. It's not just being a little too blunt or developing a little slower. Those may be symptoms, but that's not what autism is. It's sobbing in the middle of the lunch hall as a year 8 because you have the wrong number or apple slices in your lunch. Autism isn't some excuse for behaving like a manchild, is is something that has fucked up so much for my life. And he uses it for sympathy points.

It sucks because I related so much to him and now that I know who he really is, I am left to wonder if I will be like him one day.

It took a big part of my childhood that I should be able to look back on with fondness and sort of ruined the memories.

It sucks because part of me will always care so goddamn much even if he's fucking terrible. Even if I would avoid him if I saw him in public. Even if i have him blocked on all social media. Even if i threw away every fanart i drew of him and the dream hoodie i bought with my own money. Part of me wishes he would redeem himself so I could love his songs again. Even if I really wish he would just lose his platform right now and never fucking speak again, I miss my childhood so damn much.

Kinda fucked me up to have something I cared so much about sort of destroyed in front of me just because a man that I thought could do no wrong was a shitty person.

Anyways, I hope he burns.

[nxposure]

On my last blog, I wrote about my eating disorder at great length. I think it's time to do it again. If you don't like long text posts, feel free to skip this, but don't skim read it and reply because that's not nice.

TW if you need it, eating disorders, self harm, body dysmorphia.

----

People seem to think that eating disorders don't really apply to men. I spent my entire childhood listening to just about everyone passing judgement on other people's weight. As a boy, my apparent role models were all athletes, thin or muscular actors, skinny popstars and guys in music, and any husky person was either funny or tragic.

As I got older, I noticed these attitudes getting worse. Muscular men between acting jobs would stop cutting and starving their bodies, but would still look like peak physical condition but would be referred to as having a 'dad bod'.

Older still, I'd see people waggling their little fingers making jokes about small dicks, or laughing about people who cum to quick. People were too tall or not tall enough. Then they'd be too skinny if they were too fat. Then, laughs about baldness or their bodies being too hairy. It went on and on.

It melted my brain. I wanted to be whatever this idea shape was and deep down, I knew it wasn't possible, and I developed an immovable self loathing that I suspect I'll carry with me through my whole life.

I'd hear women getting similar criticisms, and the criticisms came equally from women and men, gay and straight, and of all races and creeds, and I think somewhere in my thoughts, I gave up trying to find a peaceful way of navigating this and began to purge every time I ate. I was playing a lot of team sports and would vomit before every game. I'd then go home, eat, and repeat. I became dangerously thin and people would tell me my body looked great.

I would pass out a lot through exhaustion and my eyes became dark. At some point I collapsed and hit my face on a shelf, then a radiator, and pretended to everyone that I'd just been in a fight.

After a short time thinking I'd fixed myself after scaring myself when I'd collapsed, it started again. I switched out bulimia for anorexia. I was now not eating at all. I remember hitting my hand with a spoon over and over when someone brought me some food to work, anxiety in overdrive as I hoped they wouldn't notice me not touching any of the food they gave me. That happened a lot and the back my hand was frequently purple with bruises.

I've kept a photo of a more recent period so I have something to check, in case I've dropped too much weight. This was me not that long ago, irresponsibly thin and I'd made myself very poorly. The skirt is cute though.

It was around this time that I'd collapsed again, this time in public. I was rushed to hospital with malnutrition and it was in the middle of lockdown so hospitals were swamped and everything was weird.

I was given a COVID test and while the nurses went to do my test, I sneaked out of the hospital because I didn't want them to tell me anything about how thin I was, even though they'd already clocked me. I walked home and collapsed three more times in the street, and twice more at home. I managed to get myself back to hospital eventually and spent the night under observation and was fed sugary gels and put on a drip to try and replace some of what my body had been missing for months.

I again discharged myself and ran away from the problem.

I was disgusted with myself. I was being irresponsible. I thought I looked enormous. I then made myself more depressed because I shouldn't talk about people's bodies like that. I loved people of all shapes and sizes and here I was, judging someone for being fat. I didn't eat or drink a single thing for two weeks after being in hospital. I was going mad. It was time to tell my friends what was going on, and it turned out a number of them had already worked it out.

One of the things I needed to fix was some of the people I sought advice from. I'd found people in secret who also had eating disorders and people who self harmed. It sounded like we were helping each other from the outside in, but the reality was that we were all enabling each other. Some call it trauma bonding. I call it unwell people egging each other on and even being competitive about it.

One girl said to me that my eating disorder wasn't as bad as hers. She gave me tips on how to act like I was getting better to other people. Saying you're trying is as good as actually trying, she added. It's all part of the performance.

I didn't want to be ill. I just wanted to not feel violently sick when I thought about my own body existing. I wanted to not be perceived at all, and to be left in darkened rooms, wasting away. While I spent all those nights, just lying there, I realised that this illness wasn't like other illnesses. Cancer wants to devour you. Broken bones want to heal. This eating disorder wanted me to stay alive but maximise the suffering in a prolonged bout of self harm. Me being dead was no use to my dysmorphia. I did just enough to stay alive, so I could maximise the suffering. It was like an endurance sport with no medal.

At some point, my name was put forward to appear on a news programme on national television. One of my supposed support network worked in TV and was asked if they knew anyone who had what had been rebranded as 'manorexia'. It's funny - even when showing concern, people still do stupid things like giving an illness that applies to anyone a ridiculous name. We don't call it blokeaemia do we?

After speaking to the genuinely respected and very nice journalist who I'd seen on television a lot, she was heavy handed in her questions. Things like "is it just vanity then?" is one that sticks in my memory. After 3 days of back and forth, the news story was dropped because a panda had given birth in a zoo somewhere. My sense of the absurd and gallows humour kicked in, mercifully. Men's eating disorders, relegated beneath a captive animal having a baby.

Another friend who was genuinely being well-meaning told me how brave I was, "going around telling everyone you have a woman's disease". I wasn't angry because I knew what they meant, but to someone more fragile, it could have gone horribly wrong. Another friend simply said "I don't want to ever talk about this - it's too upsetting."

I became aware of famous men talking about their eating disorders. A politician called John Prescott spoke of his and everyone laughed at it and made jokes on panel shows, based entirely on the fact that he wasn't thin enough. Everyone laughed at Hugh Jackman on talkshows when he spoke of the starvation and duress he put his body under to look a certain way for movies. Thin women were pointed at when they put an ounce of weight on. I heard women sniggering about other women saying "what does she look like in that dress?"

More recently, people would berate the 45th president of the United States for being "fat", rather than going after more pertinent things like his whole personality and terrible views. Fat, in this instance, was the ultimate sin, not being pro-fascist. I noticed how many larger men were clowning around at their own expense, and women would coo about them online. People like Jack Black - talented, good looking, charismatic - would be met with "I don't care that he's fat".

So where am I now? Mentally, the damage is done and I don't think I'll ever lose the will to harm myself. However, since my last collapse, I swore I'd never go there again. I rigidly eat three times a day. I've actively learned to enjoy the cooking process. It's been incredibly difficult, perhaps in part because I stubbornly refuse any professional help. I looked around for a psychiatrist who would help at one point, but every single one told me that they weren't taking men on.

Way back when, I started sharing photos of my body on Tumblr in a state of undress because I wanted to normalise how I looked. If I sandwiched myself between everyone else's nudes which I thought were beautiful, then I gave myself a chance to think the same of my own. It certainly helped. There's something about the kind of people this site attracts that celebrates a variety of people and I can be flooded with dopamine when my photos get complimented. They're compliments from people that sometimes get it, and that matters. Some people just think I'm being thirsty, and sometimes, they're absolutely correct.

My stomach has grown. There's fat bits on my back which I've never seen before. My neck got chunky where my jawline used to be razor sharp. At long last, I'm learning to love this. I love the softness of people's bodies, and it's taken me decades to realise that I'm just people too. I wear soft clothes that feel nice against my skin. I've collaborated on photos with wonderful people. While my dysmorphia is so bad that I doubt I'll ever find it easy to sexually pleasure myself, I've been shocked to find that people on here have actually had me feeling like a viable and sexy person! It's a completely new feeling to me and I'm trying to get better at taking compliments instead of pushing them away.

I've written about this before and at some length, but I feel it's important to do it again so it doesn't get lost. It might help someone. It might help people understand me better. It might help someone understand what their friend is going through. It might just be enough to offer an interesting perspective and nothing more.

I'm doing better than I've done in memory and it's weird and makes me feel vulnerable. I don't want to get complacent and writing this reminds me of how far I've come and not to let this terrible illness sneak up on me again. I've been through some horrendous emotional stress recently, and that's exactly the kind of time where a thing like this can reintroduce itself into my brain.

I'm doing okay though, genuinely. I can only write about these things when I'm in a good place. I hope you are too. If anyone ever needs to speak to me about anything like this, I can't promise I can fix you, but I can definitely empathise and I will root for you.

(please forgive any typos or garbled language in this - I wrote it in one take, off the cuff, without editing)

[spot-the-antisemitism]

Might I offer the Gen Z perspective on the 9/11 thing?

9/11 was horrible. Full stop. I would never joke about that. The people who make jokes are just trying to be edgy.

That said, 9/11 also doesn't hold the same weight to us for a few reasons.

First, none of us remember it. It's told to us by parents, teachers, and media material, but to us, it's just another historical event that we have no emotional investment in. My history textbook personally lumped 9/11, the Obama election, and the 2008 recession all under a single lesson on the 2000s—9/11 got 2 paragraphs and a picture of the towers before the attack. Now, in 2024, we have a new generation of adults who do not remember 9/11, and that's pretty jarring to the ones who do.

Second, we're exposed to violence in the media constantly. I'm not talking movies or video games. We have uncensored war zone pictures, livestreams of school shootings, police bodycam footage, etc. in the palm of our hands. A lot of us have been desensitized, usually unintentionally. The way my parents reacted to the Columbine shooting is not the same way I reacted to Parkland or Uvalde. Their reaction was one of horror—mine was just being tired. So after seeing all this up close and personal violence, it's hard to stir up a different emotional reaction for 9/11.

Third, we just lived through a pandemic where a 9/11 amount of people died every day and the government did nothing (as opposed to the wars started immediately after 9/11, killing 4.5 million Iraqis and Afghans). It's harder to sympathize with 9/11 when the government lets that happen. Also, while 9/11 happened in a few distinct locations, COVID impacted *everyone*. We all know someone who died, or got sick ourselves, or were quarantined at home. Even kids who are too young to understand what the virus is will remember their first years of school being on Zoom.

20 years from now, I know the new generation will see COVID the same way Gen Z sees 9/11. It sucks, but that's just how time moves on.

Dear anon,

thank you for your essay,

yeah it seems Covid was your first terrible global event

It's intersting that the right will downplay covid but use 9/11 to justify islamophobia while the left is honest (or kinda weird and hyperbolic about covid) but downplays 9/11 to do a noble savage trope.

"while 9/11 happened in a few distinct locations, COVID impacted *everyone*"

OH you sweet summer child, America was so in control of the world back them that EVERYONE was affected by 9/11.

I might agree with everything BUT the last paragraph where you imply that forgetting 9/11 is just the way it is. When it's not remembering and learning about history is a choice and so is forgetting being ignorant. And the latter is a bad choice.

Yours,

Cecil