#its so fucking frustrating and i wear myself out trying to do the thing and by the time ive worked myself up for it im too fucking tired

[bleeding-cyanide]

ugh. vent in tags cuz notes app is too far away just keep scrolling dw abt it

[leeloooonfire]

Steve Harrington only wears a bra.

Well, not, only, he's also wearing bright orange swim shorts and a cap backward, too.

The top part, however? Hairy man boobs are prettily covered by a black lace bra with a sparkling strass stone in the middle.

Eddie might be a teeny tiny bit drunk (2 beers after months of abstinence and medication does that to a man), but not drunk enought to imagine Steve Harrington in a bra.

'Uh-', he says eloquently and tries not to stare too much at the other man sitting on what must be Buckley's bed. 'Am I interrupting something?'

Steve, face almost as pink as Erica's favourite shoes, opens his mouth to reply, but Robin, sitting crosslegged in front of him, is faster, 'Oh its just you. Close the door, Eds.'

Eddie isn't sure if she means 'close the door and leave, never talk to us about whatever weird kinky little thing we're doing right now' or 'come in, close the door and shut up'. He hesitates for a moment, studying Steve's pretty flushed face and Robin’s wiggling eyebrows before stepping into the room and closing the door behind him.

His hand is still on the door knob when he turns and finds Robin leaning against Steve’s hairy chest, one of her arms behind his back. She's fumbling with something, frustrated noises escape her closed lips while Steve simply sits still - like a statue. An Adonis statue wearing a bra.

'Fuck', Robin groans loudly, her forehead knocking against Steve's clavicle, his hand patting her head in condolence.

'Not to be judgmental', Eddie starts slowly as he leans against the book case right next to the door, 'But what are you guys doing?'

(Eddie thought Robin's a friend of Dorothy, so why is Steve fucking Harrington sitting dolled up in a delicate bra on her bed and they look like they're ready to make out?!)

When both Steve and Robin send him evil twin looks, he holds both his hands up in surrender, 'Like I said, not gonna judge you, whatever floats your boat or whatever, but what, exactly, is it that you're trying to do here?'

'Practice', Robin grumbles against Steve's chest, tugging behind his back again.

Steve grins, a bit lopsided and goofy, 'She's trying to open the bra with one hand.'

'It's just so much easier on myself,' she says, and now that Eddie knows what's happening, he can make out her hand tugging and fumbling with the hooks behind Steve's back.

'Ah,' Eddie says, again, rather eloquently. 'I should probably leave you to it, then.'

Before he can turn and go, however, Steve says, 'I heard that you're pretty good with your hands, Munson. Bet you can get it off me in no time.'

'Pfff- ' Robin makes, rolling her eyes, 'I wouldn't be so sure he's ever had a bra in his hands.'

And while Robin has flocked him as a raging homosexual as it seems, Eddie heard the rumours about him too: fingers dancing over his guitar, rolling the perfect joints, Eddie the freak Munson knows how to work his fingers. he doesn't hate this rumour at all. It's kind of nice - for his ego and all.

Yes, he hasn't opened a bra before, but he's met this hot goth dude in a corset before, and that's basically a bra with dozens of hooks. He is fairly sure he can open it with one hand and without looking. What he probably shouldn't do is coming too close to Steve Harrington, the man he's had a crush on since they survived the Upside Down together. Not with his naked skin and hairy chest and dark brown nipple peaking through the black lace of the undergarment.

But both Robin and Steve stare at him and Eddie doesn't run anymore - a challenge is a challenge.

'No problem,' he says far more confident than he actually feels and steps closer, one knee on the bed before Robin's even all out of the way.

'No looking,' she says as if she's explaining the rules to a game, 'chest to chest or face in his neck, but you can only use one hand and your eyes have to stay either closed or on him. Seriously no peeking.'

She shuffles out the way to make room for Eddie between Steve's long, also very naked, legs and Eddie swallows quietly before leaning closer.

Steve smells like sunscreen and grass, a bit like the pineapple they ate earlier before the kids left, and sweat. He smells devine and before Eddie can think clearly, he presses his face into Steve's neck. He feels Steve shudder when his damp lips accidentally meet his sun kissed skin and Eddie feels like he's going crazy. What is he doing? Why is he doing it? Even the slightest touch sends shockwaves through his body. God, he's gone so bad for Steve Harrington.

'Ready?' Robin asks, apparently unaware of Eddie's dilemma or the way Steve's pulse is fluttering like a hummingbird right against Eddie's nose. 'Go!'

He sneaks his right arm around Steve, who jumps slightly the moment Eddie's fingertips brush against his shoulder blades. To keep him still, Eddie's left hand reaches for Steve's waist almost automatically. He doesn't try to focus too much on the way goosebumps spread under his fingers and the way Steve literally whines into Eddie's ear. His right hand follows the scratchy lace, nails lightly scratching Steve's skin, until he finds the hooks.

Thumb under the fabric and pointer and middle finger pressing against it, he feels the first hook opening after less than a heartbeat. For a moment, Eddie doesn't want to open the other two and therefore lose any reason to be so close to Steve.

Steve, who has his nose pressed against Eddie's hair and hand curled into Eddie's shirt, slightly tugging as if .... Well, as if to ask for permission to take it off. Eddie doesn't even know when he had the time to grab for the shirt in the first place.

Eddie moves his hand and the second hook opens. He turns his face, brings a bit more space between them to look at Steve. His cheeks are scarlet, lips shiney with spit and when he opens his eyes after mere seconds of Eddie staring at him, he can see that Steve's pupils are dilated, eyes dark with want.

The last hook springs free and without turning his eyes away, Eddie gently brushes the strap off Steve's broad shoulder. Steve quietly whimpers and pushes harder against Eddie's shirt as if to tear it off his body.

'Eddie', he whispers, licking his lips and Eddie just wants everything Steve is ready to offer.

'Ohhh okay, I think I'll leave you two alone', he hears the slightly panicked voice of Robin and then a door opening and closing.

And Eddie leans in...

[nicolesainz]

kiss kiss bang bang (SV5) - part 2 from “Tricks and champions”

Sebastian Vettel x f!reader

Author’s note: Thanks to the lovely comments I received from @maverick-mwah the seb one shot will have a second part. I dearly appreciate the love you showed for this fic!

Warnings: smut, minors dni, 18+, age gap, hints of fluff, major daddy issues, aftercare, taking her virginity, its pure porn!

Summary: After the wild ride you had with Seb, the visits at your house don't stop. Especially when your parents aren't home either. This leads Seb to control you since vulnerability has taken over.

My parents decided to fly away to Spain for the week in order to celebrate their anniversary. It's very sweet that my father still deeply cares about mum after all these years of marriage. That's how all couples should be.

People my age, having an empty house like mine, would definitely use it in order to invite friends and party until very early the next morning. Or get fully wasted with a mix of drinks. Which was my original plan. And yet, I don't really regret how things turned out.

The first night being alone sled by lonely and boring. I ordered some food and had a marathon of The Office, followed by a small concert with all of Taylor Swift's songs. In an empty house, almost in the middle of nowhere in Germany, activities are limited. Or so I thought.

"You need to come to the party. Don't be a buzzkill now." My best friend said over the phone as I was cleaning the mess of a room I have. I usually am up for any available party but I just wasn't in the mood. I would rather drink my feelings away than dress up in uncomfortable heels.

"Sorry bae, not in the mood. Plus, I am feeling a bit unwell. Probably was the Chinese food I had last night." This was a lie, obviously. I was perfectly fine, plainly bored.

"Do you want me to come over? Do you need any help girl?" There's an apparent worry in her voice, which I am trying to dodge very quickly.

"Thank you lovely but I will be alright. Go have fun and text me if anything occurs." I reassure her genuinely touched with her worry.

"I will but if you need me for anything I will rush to you. Take care y/n." We exchange our goodbyes and hang up.

It's a very gloomy day and the house is very quiet. Going to this party was probably my only chance to hook up with someone just to remove Sebastian from my thoughts. Which has become impossible after the ride we had two weeks ago.

After the tricks in the circuit, wherever I look, he is there. Either in real life or in my imagination. I imagine him inside the shower with me, in between my thighs, on my bed.

Literally fucking everywhere.

Last week, at the annual Sunday dinner my family hosts with Sebastian, he was caressing my thigh under the table, as he was casually chatting with my father. It was probably a bad idea to wear that short skirt.

I decide to take matters into my own hands and fully clear out my bed, lay a towel, light up some vanilla scented candles and finish the job by myself so I can take off the thought of Sebastian from my mind.

I put on a complication of his 'dirtiest' team radios where he curses every time either in English or German, dropping sexual hints while he is frustrated.

I plug in my AirPods and put the video on replay until I manage to finish. I put some lube on my fingers and start rubbing it against my pussy. The moment Seb's voice echoes inside my ears, I feel a wave of pleasure taking over me, as slight groans come out of my mouth.

Along with Sebastian's voice, I moan some 'fuck'' and 'shit' as I slide and pump my fingers inside my wet self in a faster pace. My womanhood clenches around my fingers although the desperation in my voice shows how needy I am of Sebastian.

"Jesus Seb." I let out during the thought that my fingers are Sebastian's, pushing me to my limits.

I open my eyes slightly only to be met with a blurry figure of a blonde haired man. I was so obsessed with Sebastian that I was hallucinating.

And yet I wasn't.

He was indeed in the room.

Watching me masturbate with the help of his voice.

I panicked instantly and pulled the covers on top of my body, trying to hide from the feeling of embarrassment and Sebastian's gawking eyes that were scanning me from head to toe.

"So when the cats are away, the mice come out and play. Or in your case, simply come." He jokes around with a massive smirk plastered on his face.

"I-it's not what it looks like, I was, uh" I didn't know how to excuse my actions.

"And yet it so is what it looks like." He rolls his eyes but immediately looks back at me, licking his lips.

"Okay fine, you caught me in a vulnerable moment. I have needs but no boyfriend to satisfy me. I would've gone to a party just to release my frustration but better safe than sorry." I don't know why I said all those things to Sebastian but for some reason I open up to him more easily.

Literally and figuratively.

"So it was very difficult for you to think of me, right?" He exclaims but quickly silences himself as the audio from my phone hasn't paused and the cursing is loud and clear.

He looks around the room to see from where this sound is coming from and when he notices I am trying to mute my phone, he grabs it from my hands and takes a lot at the content amused.

"So you were thinking of me. Just not calling me but simply replacing me."

Sebastian kneeled down to my height and removed the covers from my legs. My panties were still wrapped around my thighs and small hints of wetness were apparent. No shame took over me. Which was oddly weird.

"You know I am here for you if you ever need me, baby. For anything." He positions my body right in front of his face, looking me deeply into my eyes with such innocence, yet I knew that none of his following actions were gonna be the same.

"It's not right Sebastian. You're twice my age and a friend of my father's. You are a person I admire, not someone I should be thinking of in that way." That was the moment where I felt truly ashamed of myself but with a few words, Sebastian made me feel like what was going to happen between us is the most right thing in the world.

"Admiring someone doesn't necessarily mean you can't love them or want them in any other way. I know the kind of girl you are, Y/n. You've literally confessed to me your entire love life, pleading for a man that will treat you right and be there for you."

I didn't know if I wanted to cry or smile at his words. I was right there in front of him, spread legs and needy of a mans touch. He barely looked down at my womanhood or removed his eyes from mine. I needed a man who could bring the best of both worlds.

He was right in front of me.

"I need you Seb. Madly. I can't get you out of my head. Help me." I cooed softly, my desperation is clearly showing more than it should.

"All I will ask is, are you willing to let me take care of your need 100% dear? Because there is no going back after that." The fact that he asked me for reassurance and didn't throw himself at me the moment I begged him, proved to me that no man can be like Sebastian.

"I trust you blindly." I put my forehead softly against his and he instantly captures my lips into a soft kiss, full of reassurance, trust and emotion. His hands are on the sides of my thighs, holding against them firmly and climbing on top of my body feeling more of his warmth.

Sebastian's piercing blue eyes focus on the rhythm of my breathing that is being patterned on the mannerism the way by breasts bounce up and down. I can feel myself blushing given that no matter how many men have looked this tensely at me, only he can cause butterflies to my stomach.

With one arm, he removes his t-shirt, revealing a very well fitted 36 year old on whose body I want to lay my hands on and worship like he is a greek god. I softly trace the V-line on top of his belt and the kiss becomes even more tense with a simple touch.

"You don't know what you're doing to me." He mumbles against my lips as he is trying to unbuckle his belt and get rid of the trousers that are hiding from my sight the hardened erection I caused.

"Then show me." I so easily say, yet I don't know the mix of pain and pleasure I am about to experience because of my actions. Sebastian grunts and with my help, his trousers are on the floor and I can feel against my wet unclothed pussy his erected cock.

Sebastian breaks the kiss and stands up, in the process of which he is picking me up as well. My breathing becomes harder as he takes my top off and now we are semi naked in front of each other. Only a few barriers which in a few seconds are gone. I strap off my bra slowly, revealing my breast to his sight.

"You are beautiful. Absolutely mesmerising. My god" he sighs and kneels in front of me. I am absolutely shocked by what he is doing. I feel his hands holding firmly my thighs and in matters of seconds his lips on my pussy, eating me up like a starved man. His tongue flicking against my clit, sending euphoric vibration at my entire body.

"Fuck, Seb" I moan uncontrollably as he keeps feasting on the juices that are covering my womanhood and his jaw. My fingers tangle on his blonde curls, pulling them slightly as I am trying with all my willpower not to crush his face with my trembling thighs.

My head falls back and my moans become louder and louder as Sebastian slowly removes his his mouth from my pussy and slams it against mine, while inserting his index and middle finger inside my wetness.

"So innocent and yet you're clenching around my fingers like a needy whore." His fingers are pumping inside me in quite a fast pace but just the perfect one to send me into fucking oblivion. My fingers are scratching his back like a wild animal.

"I need to cum, Seb, please." I have never begged anyone for anything in my life and yet, another first time of mine had just been ticked off the box with the help of Sebastian. He applies a bit more pressure to my very swollen pussy, by using his thumb to play along with my clit.

"Then do so baby. All over my fingers." The moment he says it, I release immediately along with a tense groan from both of us. God that felt amazing. Sebastian grabs me back, laying me on the bed, knees weaker than wooden sticks but surely needy for more.

"I need you to be fully sure of what is about to happen darling. Allow me?" My heart drops to my stomach with his words. A few minutes ago he was fucking me with his fingers with such ease and now he is asking for permission.

Best of both worlds.

"There is no man on this earth I trust more than you, Seb. Yes, I am fully aware." I reply with a kind smile on my face, reassuring him that he is the only man I need and want.

His lips connect with mine once more, although this time the kiss was more meaningful than anything. It was me showing Sebastian that I trust him with something so sacred and fragile but something I would only want him to have.

His fingers are toying with my nipples while his mouth is occupied with my neck, trying to leave as many hickies humanly possible. I do not mind at all, though I will need many formulas of makeup to hide his mess.

"Can I touch you?" I quietly ask him as he still was wearing his underwear that were trying to hold on his frustrated cock. I was so afraid of asking him such a thing even though it wouldn't be my first time touching a man.

"Your touch is what I am craving." He grabs my hand and places it on top of his edged bulge that wants to be taken care of. Having his confirmation, I remove the barrier, the boxers, in swift movements, with his cock springing out.

I wrap my hands around his erection, feeling the hints of pre cum on the tip, I spread the minimum liquid all over, pumping him slowly and teasingly sliding him through my wet folds, causing him to moan on the crook of my neck.

"Jesus baby. I need you." He blurts out and my excitement reaches extremely high levels. When I feel Seb's body lowering on me, I remove my hands from his cock and hold on against his butt. In very slow movements, Sebastian slides himself inside me, as softly as he can, whilst I am trying to adjust to his size.

Sebastian has filled me up entirely and my pussy has been stretched to its limits. He tried to play safe at first with slow trusts that would help him find my sweet spot. Tears of exhaustion and pleasure were covering my eyes.

Suddenly, he picks up the pace, thrusting harder into me, pushing my limits to the maximum and earning multiple moans of his name along the way. The room smells sex. The air smells sex. He and I smell like sex.

"Oh my Seb." I moan as if there is no tomorrow, shamelessly, giving him the satisfaction of achieving to make the first time of a woman better than half of the female's population. Not even better. Heavenly good.

"This is for you. All for you my good girl."

[hedonists-den]

POV: We’re roommates and I’ve finally had it with your fatass behaviors after you help yourself to my chocolate. I let a lot of pent-up frustration out on you before realizing that there’s only one fitting consequence for your greed.

⚠️ Heavy fat-shaming ⚠️

TRANSCRIPT:

[distant] You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

Did you take my truffles? You did, didn’t you? I can see the wrappers right there! I can’t fucking believe this…I put up with a lot from you, but blatantly stealing my food? Aren’t you fat enough as is? I mean you’ve already broken three office chairs—two of which I carried inside, by the way—but noooo, you’ve got to have my chocolate. 

Those truffles are the only things I allow myself at the end of the week, you know that? You know how hard I work to keep my diet in check? All the calorie tracking, exercising, and meal planning I have to do? No, you couldn’t possibly understand. You don’t try hard at anything. You don’t even know what self-control means. All you do is sit around all day, stuffing your fat fucking face and getting high. 

I’m being mean? That’s all you have to say to me? No apology, no “I’ll pay you back for it,”? Are you serious? Well how’s this for mean: You’re a fucking embarrassment. You’re a shameless fat blimp of a human being that only exists to consume. You’re no better than livestock, grazing on whatever it can because its only value is how fucking fat it is. The only difference is that you have at least a modicum of self-awareness to know how completely helpless and useless you are.

How much effort does it take to heave your fat ass up from that chair? Gotta get some momentum going before you can actually stand up? Go ahead. Try to lug yourself to your feet without grunting and struggling. [...] Yeah, that’s what I fucking thought. I’m shocked that you were able to even make it to the pantry to take my chocolate after such a pathetic attempt. That must be why there’s always piles of dishes stacked up in here, too. You’re too fucking lazy to even take them into the kitchen. I always have to clean up after these goddamn feasts of yours or else I’ll never have any dishes for myself. 

Fucking hell, when I signed up to be your roommate, I absolutely did not sign up for this. You at least had some decency when I moved in, so what the hell happened? Did you lose some fucking bet? Or did you just wake up one morning and decide that you were going to be a lazy, fat pig? What kind of degenerate shit did you—ugh, for fuck’s sake, pull your goddamn shirt down…your fucking gut is spilling out… That’s fucking disgusting… Nothing you’re wearing right now even fits! Your fat is just…oozing out of everything… I can’t believe you look like this and still you justify to yourself that you need my candy on top of everything else you shovel into your mouth. Just… No, you know what? You don’t want to apologize? You want to be a fatass? To live in this offensively obese body that you’ve ruined?

[unwrapping candy] Then eat. Eat, you fucking pig. You wanted my candy? You’re going to have it. Every single piece, and then some. You’ll never be any smaller than you are right now. I’ll make sure of it.

Oh no, no, no, you don’t get to stop now. Open up, fatty. You’re done when I say you’re done.

[meiiie]

dave lizewski, i’m so into you. (pt. 1)

summary: you say something unexpected about Kick-Ass while discussing with your friends which hero you prefer the most.. Kick-Ass? Or Red Mist? little did Dave know or so you thought, you knew it was him all along..

a/n: uhh this is just a silly little imagine.. no one is probably going to see this post anyway but i’m new to this so this isn’t really the best thing i wrote, i hope u still enjoy reading this LOL i’ve also added my OC named Melilah who will be your best friend in this, um slight nsfw mention near the end but no actual action, thats it i think! yeah that’s it, happy reading :)

(pairing: dave lizewski x fem!reader) link to pt. 2

word count: 1.5k

It was a normal day, going to school, attending your classes, eating lunch, procrastinating your school works, submitting homework… attending more classes… rinse and repeat. But today was not what you expected, like.. at all.

ring ring… ring ring… you pick up your ringing phone while walking down the street, on your way to the convenience store.

“hello.?” your voice turns out more tired and groggier than you expected “hey when are you getting home sweetie? the food is getting cold and its already almost 6:30 pm, where are you?” your mom says with a worried voice, you could already imagine her face by just hearing her voice

this week has probably been one of the most stressful weeks of your entire life, class has been giving more school works, more due dates, you probably see your life flashing before your eyes right now “um yeah i’m on the way home already, don’t worry mom!” you say attempting to make your voice sound enthusiastic “well you better not be hanging out with that pretty boy.. actually maybe you should invite him for dinne-”

“mom— i—“ you cut her off but then you sigh giving up to even explain. “…he’s just a friend i swear..”

this supposedly ‘pretty boy’ your mom is referring to is Dave Lizewski, this guy in your class who you were paired up to work on a major project so he’s been at your house a few times already. surprisingly you get along with him really well? you’ve even become a part of his friend group including your best friend Melilah. She always points out the fact he always stares at you whenever you all hang out in Atomic Comics and during classes, but you’ve never really thought about him that way, or maybe you were considering it?

while walking down the road the street lights flicker a bit and you see someone trying to hanging onto the ledge of a billboard of some sort. you hear the figure shout at the cat sitting, waiting for him to fall “FUCK YOU MR BITEY!” his voice echoes, but wait.. why does his voice sound so familiar…? “okay okay okay, but call me and update me on where you are okay? be here quick, i love you!” your mom says- *THUD* you quickly look at the direction where the person, you assume, fell “UH yeah i’ll call you! i love you mom, BYE!” you say hastily, almost whispering.

beeeep.. beeeep.. you hang up the phone call, quickly putting your phone back in your messenger bag and hide behind a car. you spot a green figure, uh, “what in the world is that…” you think to yourself. the figure is wearing a weird.. cosplay suit.. it’s almost as if he looks like a green condo-

your thoughts are interrupted as he storms off looking frustrated, most probably because of the cat he couldn’t save.. he walks hurriedly into the dark alley. for some what reason you felt a little curious, just a little bit. so you go and follow the ‘super hero’, “this is so stupid.. someone remind me why I’m doing this to myself?” you whisper to yourself as you hide behind a pole, (you think this helps you stay hidden but you should’ve seen dave’s face when he saw you) trying to get a peek at the stranger. he takes off his mask angrily, you watch his curls fall into place, there are some scratches on his face from the fall, “damn why does he look so fine” you say in your thoughts and then you realize.

those are the blue eyes you see everyday in school, THAT’S DAVE LIZEWSKI. you silently gasp covering your face. his eyes dart at your direction, he shudders at the sound of your noise then next thing you know you start running away like a cockroach flew at your direction “WAIT!” he shouts, good thing you ran quick enough so he probably didn’t see your face, key word: probably.. actually there was no reason to be running from him at all- but you just felt like it..? considering you’re still in your denial stage about your feelings for him, who wouldn’t? you open the door to your house and get in as fast as you could just in case he followed you. the tv is bright and the news displays the text in bold ‘SUPERHERO KICKASS SAVES THE DAY’ you stare at the tv in shock because that’s… how… he’s Dave..?

your mom pops out of the kitchen “hey your back home! i thought you were going to call me to update me where you were..- oh yeah that superhero… what’s his name? Kickass? apparently he stopped a bunch of guys yesterday who were trying to beat up another guy that was in front of a convenience store and a bunch of people saw it then recorded blah blah blah you get it” you just stare at the tv in shock. “hello…? earth to y/n?”

it’s been almost 2 days, you’ve been avoiding Dave, trying not to make eye contact with him, passing by him in the halls, not even acknowledging his presence, even avoiding the hangouts to Atomic Comics, despite the fact you still have to do a major project with him. you open your locker getting books out of your locker, “hey have you heard about those two new superheros? Kickass? and Red Mist?” Melilah questions and your eyes widen at the question, only being reminded of Dave “yeah- well- i think its kinda dangerous doing that you know? being a um.. a superhero? why are people even so into them nowadays?” you say hesitatingly “ugh you are such a buzz kill, anyways Todd and Marty invited us to hangout… in Atomic Comics…” she looks like she’s about to ask a question, but she hesitates “go on.. continue” you gesture her to reply “why are you like.. i don’t know avoiding Dave? we’ve all kind of noticed that you know and the tension is killing all of us..”

you close the locker door and bring her to an empty classroom, you say “okay i know this sounds a bit crazy but DAVE IS KICKASS.” she “pffts” at your statement then turns to look at your face again, “oh.. your being serious” she says “YES I’M BEING SERIOUS?? i was on my way to the convenience store right and Kickass or Dave- i don’t know anymore was trying to save this cat then falls from this thing- anyways he walked in the alleyway so i was like ok i’ll just follow him! what could possibly happen!? then he took off his MASK SO THEN I RAN AWAY AND HE WAS LIKE ‘wait!🤪’ BUT I KEPT ON-” Melilah tries to comprehend everything, slowly nodding… slowly.. she whispers loudly “OKAY KEEP IT DOWN SOMEONE MIGHT HEAR YOU, okay so are you SURE this was Dave?” still whispering

“a HUNDRED percent.” you say trying to defend that you weren’t just seeing things

she sighs “well what are we going to do? I already told them we were going to be there..”

“you said WHAT?”

“okay okay chill they didn’t say Dave was coming, they obviously noticed how awkward it was with you guys so why would they invite him right haha.. haha…..” she laughs nervously

after both of you gather your thoughts you find yourself already settling down in a booth, in Atomic Comics, contemplating your life decisions. fidgeting nervously already imagining what’s going to happen. hoping not to see him. Melilah comes back after gathering a bunch of comic books to read while waiting for them to arrive. “hey stop fidgeting your going to be fine, plus he doesn’t know you know. right…?” you both just stare at each other. you both start praying in unison—“lord give us the strength to-“

“give you guys the strength for what?” Todd interrupts, you look behind him frantically to check whether Dave was there or not. to your surprise, he wasn’t. does he know? did he see my face when i ran? what if he doesn’t like me anymore? wait. why did that even matter? Todd and Marty took a seat beside Melilah leaving you alone sitting at the other side of the booth, obviously planning something.. “guys what do you think of Kickass?” Melilah asks, you kick her leg from under the table making a face screaming WHYAREYOUBRINGINGHIMUP. in fairness the both of you didn’t know whether Todd and Marty knew about it too, you shoot a glance at her giving a ohhhhiunderstandnow look to what she’s doing (spoiler alert: you've got the wrong idea, she was in fact not helping you) “i think he’s fine i guess, to be honest Red Mist is way cooler though because of his cape and all..” Marty says with Todd nodding his head to show that he agrees

“well- for one i think Kickass is wayy cuter, i’d fuck his brains out if i got the chance.” you say out of your thoughts completely regretting saying the said statement- “Really?” Dave says out of nowhere observing the conversation from behind your booth, making you jolt “y/n that just came out of nowhere what in the world.” Melilah says right after staring at you for a few seconds while Dave is making eye contact with you, smirking like he knows something. the conversation falls quiet.. real quiet… “okay wrap it up you two.” Todd interrupts, i wonder what happens next?

a/n: and the rest is history, I hope this was good enough lolol hope you enjoyed reading! (pt. 2 coming soon)

[jinkookspencil]

i just don't understand pt 2

in which jungkook does not understand how his friend doesn't have a crush on namjoon

a drabble sequel to the drabble 'i just don't understand' -

i'd say you need to read that first, it's just 500 words but if you really don't want to, i included the last bit of dialogue at the beginning of this fic i dont care if drabbles can't have sequels, it just worked out this way lmao

description/tags: jungkook drabble / fluff / friends to lovers / ~900 words / jk comes off a little more insecure here but it kind of works because i'd always imagined this as a younger version of him / hope you enjoy!! / it's been a while since i wrote anything but i have a recent writing update i recently shared (this is *not* the jk thing i am currently working on - i hope to have that done for his birthday!)

+

“What the hell are you attracted to?” Jungkook laughs. “Ugly, stupid, mean, untalented guys?”

“Of course not, Jungkook,” you sigh. “I like other handsome, smart, kind, respectful guys.”

“Like who?”

“Like YOU!”

This was not how you imagined confessing. 

“Like…. Like me?!”

Dropping the plushie in his hands, Jungkook gestures to himself in disbelief.

“I said like you, Jungkook,” you emphasize, hoping it wasn’t too late to back out of your frustration-fueled confession.

“So…. Not me?”

What the fuck were you supposed to say now?! You pick up the teddy bear and tug at its pink fur, staring at its face and hoping the bear’s smile would turn into a murderous one, killing you and waking you up from this anxiety-inducing nightmare. 

Jungkook calls your name quietly and quickly, bringing you back life.

“Like you. You, Jungkook. I like you.”

“Over… over Namjoon?” he winces, and you do too. It was the most humiliating way someone could have responded to a confession…. hoping you’d fall in love with someone else instead. 

“Yes, Jungkook. Over Namjoon," you reply with your head in your hands.

“So all those things you said to describe him… handsome, smart, you think that of me too?”

“Yeah, of course,” you chuckle, finally looking up at him, “that and so much more, actually.”

“But there’s a difference? Between what you think of me and what you think of Namjoon-hyung?”

“Oh, there’s a big difference.”

“You described the both of us with the same string of adjectives, though….”

Jungkook was a clever guy…. Why was he acting so stupid?

“Who cares if you share some similar qualities?! I am not attracted to Namjoon. Period. I am attracted to you, Jeon Jungkook. The person born on September 1, 1997, who always wears black, loves karaoke, samgyeopsal, the movie Titanic, and the scariest fucking theme park rides! The Jeon Jungkook that’s sitting right in front of me. You.”

Jungkook's breath is shaky, his voice the same when he speaks. “I just find it hard to believe…. Not Namjoon. And not only that - me over Namjoon….”

“I don’t know how to explain it in more words, Koo…. I like you. I like you in the way that people have crushes on each other. You make my heart flutter while also putting it at ease. I like you.”

The boy in front of you doesn’t say anything, merely stiffens his posture, and you know it only meant the worst.

“This…. This calls for the end of our friendship doesn’t it?” you mumble, voice breaking and bubbling, ready to burst into tears.

“No…. No, absolutely not….” he says, breaking out of his catatonic state to sit next to you on the couch and hug your plushie once again. “Let me explain something this time… You know how I gush over Namjoon?”

“Of course,” you groan, and Jungkook rolls his eyes.

“And I always try to understand why you aren’t attracted to him… right?”

“Yeah…”

“I know Namjoon and I are not the exact same. Of course I do, that’s why I look up to him and keep recommending him to you and I guess… I guess it’s because in my head, I was trying to convince myself that you had to go for guys like Namjoon… because you’d never go for guys like me…”

“…. And what do you mean by guys like you?” 

“Guys that have nothing in common with you. You say Namjoon and I are both handsome and smart... But in truth, you and he share the similarities and I could never compete. You're both beautiful in the 'once-in-a-lifetime' kind of way. You're both clever in the book-ish way - do you know you have the exact same books as he does? I bought a book two weeks ago to try and impress you but I haven’t gotten past the introduction so I was too ashamed to even tell you. Oh, that one time, you both recommended the same drama series to me… on the same day. I thought for sure that you’d hooked up and seen it together, and that’d be that. But then you called me crying when it ended, wrapped up in your fluffy pink blanket in bed with chips.”

“You asked me why I didn’t call Namjoon…”

“And you said ‘why would I?’… Even if you weren't hooking up, I could’ve given you a million reasons as to why you could've called him instead. That drama was too artsy for me, but not for either of you. I didn’t even understand what you were saying on the phone that day - the message behind the story, or whatever - I was just so happy that you’d called and that you’d think I’d get it.” 

Jungkook lets out a laugh as he shakes his head. For some reason, it breaks your heart.

“I tried to make ‘you and Namjoon’ happen because it’s the only logical thing I could see in front of me…… The only answer I could come up with… You’re… the most wonderful person I’ve ever known, YN. I want what’s best for you - you deserve the best kind of guy there is…. and that’s definitely Nam-“

You push your lips against Jungkook’s, interrupting him with a kiss.

“It’s you, Jungkook. You’re the best fucking person I know.” You kiss him again. “I’d pick you a million times over.”

“Well, what if-“

“Can we forget about Namjoon entirely for a moment? I want the boy I like to shut up and kiss me…. If you want to, that is.”

Jungkook’s smile turns into one you rarely see. A smirk, devilish, menacing…. Delectable as he nods and meets you with a deep kiss, electrifying every inch of your body.

You were always a know-it-all and you'd been right once again: this was always the boy for you.

[dollible]

You’re the last one left, and you won’t be for long.

There’s blood on your hands from when you axed Choi in the face—fuck, fuck, his blood on your hands—and both sides of his head just smiled at you. You bar the storage door behind you as best as you could. In your arms, pins and needles are coming on. An odd sort of numbness spreading in the skin.

You groan in frustration, thump your face against the bulkhead. Is this how it ends? Are you just gonna… fade? Eaten away from the inside? You wince. Get up. Get the pliers out and hobble over to the shelves, to a crate nailed shut.

And then you startle and drop the tool as you hear an almost comically domestic knock on the door. Shave-and-a-haircut. “Seven hells,” you whisper and slide down with your back to the shelves. You can’t deal with this.

A lively voice answers from the other side of a bulletproof wall.

“Nothing so grim, dumbass. Just me.”

You hear a muffled sound from the hallway. Is she- is it sitting down in the same spot, its back to yours? You glance back, but only see the metallic gray of steel.

“Quit stalling, asshole. You don’t have much time. You don’t want to be alone.”

“Yes I do!” you half-shout, but the monster’s right. You squeeze your hand, and find you can barely make a fist. “… stop it.”

The thing behind the wall mimics confusion. “Stop what?”

“This. You’re not- not Quinn.” Your dead colleague’s name feels sour on your tongue.

To give it credit, it sits quiet for a second. Your head swims a little. Pins and needles and needles and pins and stars it hurts.

“Maybe I’m not. Maybe not anymore.”

It stands up, steps to the door. You clamber on your feet and back to the crate.

“I prefer to think I’m so much more now.”

It fiddles with the handle, traces its fingers around the doorframe.

“I was me, and it hurt, and then it didn’t, and I felt myself break and dissolve within something much greater.”

You pop the lid off and reach inside. The door creaks.

The metal groans, the floor trembles, and you turn around with the flamethrower in your shaking hands to the sight of not-Quinn standing in the yawning hole that used to be the doorway. She looks different. No longer exhausted. There’s a twinkle in her eyes. A pep in her step.

The thing behind her eyes is wearing her and her clothes with laxity. Not unkempt, but… uninhibited. Her shirt is only buttoned halfway. Her stance is confident, and there’s a bit too many teeth in her smile. Still, her mannerisms so achingly familiar.

“And yet, here I am.”

You try to aim the weapon at her and only falter a little. That’s something, considering you can’t feel your fingers anymore. “Stay the fuck back.”

“Or what, sunshine?” she smiles at you without a hint of malice, steps forward, leans her elbow on the shelf. “Burn me? Choi tried. Didn’t work.”

She steps forward, and you back, the nozzle swaying to the side. You look her in the eyes, at those inky pools and the something moving just behind, and feel yourself get dragged deep in the vast abyss.

“Drop it,” she probably says.

A vision of a stranger’s life, an alien life, flashes at you. A myriad of stars connected in a pulsing patchwork, like dewdrops on a spiderweb. Spiraling towards the center. Dancing in one circle. Draining into a single hungry maw.

You come to on the floor in cold sweat. Her arms are wrapped tight around you. Her all-black eyes inches from your face. Electric shocks travel through your nervous system, and your legs buckle and kick.

You feel smugness radiating from her. Anticipation.

Hunger.

She pulls you into a kiss, and slides down your throat. You taste iron, machine oil, acid. Your throat bulges out. You moan, and are silenced by a will much greater than yours.

“Sshhh. I won’t lie, it will hurt.”

She speaks without breaking the kiss, with the intruder still worming deeper, bypassing your gag reflex, tickling your stomach now.

“But you won’t go through it alone. All of Us are here with you.”

Your eyes roll backwards into your skull. The sounds get muffled. Not her speech, though. There’s ringing in your ears, getting louder and louder.

“You’ll make a great toy for me.”

Something shifts behind your eyes, and everything goes dark.

“And I am going to savor this.” ∎

[shuutingstar]

It’s FINALLY done. I’ve finished the sit-com/reality tv show/whatever. It’s only one chapter/a oneshot because it honestly took so long just to write and I procrastinated a bit, but there’s like 4 drafts of just different scenarios for this AU and I’m tired. Not sure if I’ll post this on ao3 or not, but whatever.

context (I guess??) to my suffering.

@doodlebugdpj I hope you like it and I’m terribly sorry if it wasn’t what you were expecting! I understand if it’s garbage because it honestly is.

[camera pans on Will Solace’s face. He’s sitting on a love seat in a bland room and fidgeting with his hands]

Will: [blinks uncomfortably] uh, I’m not sure what I’m meant to—

[a piece of paper gets thrown at Will and he catches it effortlessly, he looks at the contents and sighs]

Will: [reading from the paper indifferently] welcome to the start of a spin-off series where we look into the lives of the demigods residing at Camp Half-Blood. There will be laughs, there will be hardship, but most of all there will be a rememberable and lovable cast of characters— do I have to read this?

Apollo [off-screen]: of course! How else am I meant to start off my career as the best movie director? You know, I’m still disappointed that I couldn’t be in the show, but maybe Hephaestus is just waiting to star me in something really popular! I know he would never brush off my experience and expertise!

Will: [sighs] fine, fine. —rememberable and lovable cast of characters who all face the mundane problems of Camp Half-Blood. Grab some popcorn and sit back because you are about to be sent to an entire different world.

[Apollo claps off-screen while Will puts his head in his hands]

Apollo: well done! Although I do think you need to be more expressive, but I suppose it’s usable. Now if I had done it I would’ve used more emotions to convey just how excited I was to show off my new show, but that might just be a me thing.

Will: [puts his hands on his lap] can I go yet? Nico said he wanted to play some video games today and I need enough brain power to mentally prepare myself for my inevitable defeat.

Apollo: [hums] I guess. All right, you may leave.

[Will stands up quickly and leaves the studio room/basement of the Big House without another word]

[The camera cuts to a shot of Alice Mizayawa and Julia Feingold, who are standing opposite each other]

Alice: so you know how Mr. D loves his coke?

Julia: [nods] yeah.

Alice: [giggles] so what if I told you I swapped it for diet?

Julia: [blinks] you… Alice!? Are you stupid?!

Alice: [scoffs] no? I am completely aware of the consequences! It’s called wanting to have fun, Juls.

Julia: [raises an eyebrow] are you sure you aren’t trying to impress Kayla?

Alice: [slaps a hand on Julia’s mouth] what?! No! Why would I?

[camera cuts to Julia Feingold sitting on the love seat]

Julia: [looks deadpan at camera] Alice has a crush on Kayla and before you say that it was rude of me to reveal that, I’ll have you know that everyone at camp knows except for Kayla.

[camera cuts back to the previous scene]

Julia: [sighs and gets rid of Alice’s hand] okay, okay. How are you supposed to know if Mr. D finds out?

Alice: [smirks] don’t worry, I’ll know.

[a beat of silence before a frustrated scream echoes through the camp, few campers look for its source]

Alice: there it is!

Julia: [face palms] you are so dead.

[camera cuts to Alice sitting on the loveseat, looking worse for wear yet smiling brightly]

Alice: I got put on dish washing duty for a month, but it was worth it! [she sits crisscrossed on the seat] Kayla said my prank was hilarious! Can you believe that? [her smile widens] I think I might explode.

[Dionysus sits at the love seat, looking beyond tired]

Mr. D: fuck you, Zeus.*

*Hephaestus TV would like to clarify that this is a figure of speech and Dionysus does not actually want to fuck Zeus.

[camera cuts to Cecil Markowitz, Lou Ellen and Will Solace sitting in a circle and playing a card game]

Lou: [places a card on the deck in the middle of the circle] UNO.

Will: [huffs] I swear if this is your third win—

Lou: oh please, you’re just mad you’re bad at a card game.

Cecil: [chuckles] even I’ve won at least once.

Will: [rolls his eyes] it’s a game of luck, Cecil. You don’t need much to win a game like this.

[in the background a cabin lights on fire and Percy Jackson can be seen controlling water from the lake to extinguish it]

Lou: [smirks] are you not lucky, Will?

Will: [deadpans] Tyche hates my guts.

Cecil: did you accidentally forget to heal Chiara or something?

Will: what? No! I take my job as head healer very seriously.

[the fire slowly dissipates, however the cabin is charred and badly damaged. Annabeth Chase walks over to Percy, the two discussing something too far to pick up on]

Lou: [shrugs] it’s your turn, dipshit.

Will: [looks at his cards, then places one on the deck ans grins] maybe Tyche doesn’t hate my guts.

Cecil: [groans] just great. [takes four cards from the opposite deck reluctantly]

Lou: what’s the colour?

Will: hmm, how ‘bout blue?

Lou: ugh! You son of a bicth!

[Will and Cecil laugh at Lou’s unfortunate situation all the while in the background the cabin has gone up in flames again, Percy and Annabeth staring for a single moment before trying to extinguish it again]

Will: [puts a card down] UNO!

Cecil: whaaaat?!

Lou: fuck you, sunshine boy.

Will: [grins smugly] I guess Tyche has finally blessed me. Suck it, losers!

Cecil: [frowns] you’re so cruel, William.

[the three friends laugh as the sun sets behind them. The cabin is no longer on fire and now Leo Valdez and Harley have joined Annabeth and Percy. They discuss something before Harley looks down dejectedly]

[the camera cuts to the bland room once more, Will Solace sitting in the love seat once again]

Will: for the record, I won that UNO game.

[a paper gets thrown at him and Will looks at its contents indifferently]

Will: [reading form the paper] that concludes the pilot episode for Apollo’s new TV show. He would like to thank himself for coming up with the idea and Hephaestus TV for sponsoring the production. Tune back in next Wednesday to catch the very first episode of the series. [looks at camera] how much longer is this gonna last, dad?

Apollo [off-screen]: dunno, I’ll have to check the views first. I’ll get back to you.

[the screen fades to black as Will stands up and leaves]

don’t ask my what kayla x alice is doing in here, I wanted a funny scene and kayla was the first person I thought of.

I hate this so much, but honestly I kind of just want to be done with this (for now). This most definitely branches out from my initial post because it’s hard to incorporate fight scenes when my vocabulary only consists of ‘explosions’ and ‘screams’ in that field. Also, I guess it would make sense if sometimes camp wasn’t in mortal danger and other times it was? So yeah. That’s what this is.

[elvencantation]

weird things i don’t know if i can attribute to trauma or adhd or social anxiety:

-super sensitive smell and taste. carbonation hurts my tongue

-sometimes brain decides perfectly good food is bad (usually if i’ve had it too many times or its too bland) and if i make myself eat it i’ll have a stomachache (also sometimes i just don’t have the energy to try new foods)

-subset of this: i am very sad when my tomatoes or nectarines (or anything else that i love to be firm) is soft or otherwise unusually textured. like if i can see they’re wrinkly or lumpy i will not eat them. i am currently staring at some sad tomatoes being like. will my mouth accept them or will they be too soft

-unspoken social rules i don’t know and anxiety about new social situations i have no context for, no list of example responses and what it leads to

-i have two social modes that its very hard to find middle ground between: stranger and person who is safe

-bothers me when people are wrong about something and i am often not able to stop myself from correcting them

-very blunt and bad at subtext, take things way too literally especially when im tired

-let me expound on that. even when i know the question isn’t meant literally, usually i answer it literally first, then as they meant it. i play it off as a joke but it’s hard to resist being totally and completely honest if there isn’t a reason (like info about myself i think people don’t need to know)

-no understanding of peer pressure and why someone would change themselves to fit in (like srsly how do you find genuine friends with common interests and stuff if you’re hiding who you are?)

-annoyed by overly self-deprecating statements. have dealt with this by being overly sarcastic like- OH MY GOD. HOW DARE YOU HAVE HUMAN EMOTIONS AROUND ME, ANOTHER HUMAN YOU TRUST AND WHO CARES ABOUT YOU???

-constant over analysis of myself and how new people perceive me, esp coworkers (since they’re not friends, they don’t choose to spend time with me) UPDATE: i’ve mostly stopped doing this. turns out it was social anxiety and the fact that i had to meet like over fifty new coworkers at once

-i logic my own emotions. i can logic myself out of them sometimes if they’re negatively affecting me. usual example: i can usually set aside my anxiety at something if there's nothing i can do to change it. or more accurately if i've taken a step towards fixing whatever triggered it

-very slow reflexes/processing time

-can’t stand pet hair on my clothes or stuff

⁃very fluid sense of opinion. very influenced by the opinions of those im close to. to the point where a dress i loved, i couldn’t bear to wear because my mom said it looked trashy. to the point where my best friend said she didn’t like a song, so i didn’t really like it (i just listened to it, and its not a bad song. i think i do like it? idk) i think this used to be more severe when i had less self confidence but still happens now sometimes

-secondhand embarrassment can become so unbearable and i have to plug my ears and want to hide

-dissociating after 2+ hours staring at a screen

-if there’s no background noise i can hear my ears ringing and that’s not fun

-i never get angry. upset sure. anger or rage? i can remember feeling properly angry like. once. when my brother was young and traumatized and did something totally stupid and fucked with my sweet cousin. that’s… pretty much it. but mostly it was my protective instinct and i think i was scared cause i didn’t understand what was happening

-the sheer panic and frustration that happens when someone misunderstands my words consistently. like if you cannot understand what i am saying how do i communicate with you? in the time honored words of dr seuss: "i meant what i said and i said what i meant"

[hotcryptidsinyourarea]

Falling for the Frogman of Loveland, Ohio

story synopsis: Molly is a 30-something cookbook editor who has decided to move from New York to Loveland, Ohio after a bad breakup and a desire for a fresh start. She is instantly attracted to her neighbor Jeremiah's midwestern charms, but this local guy is much more than meets the eye...

human (she/her) + interdimensional humanoid frogman (he/him)

cw: social anxiety, negative self-talk, hetero heavy petting, terror, loss of consciousness

Chapter 4

I sleep in a bit late the next morning. The exhaustion from moving is catching up with me, but with the storage pod on the way, I need to start the day restored. And fueled. I’m thinking cheesy motherfuckin’ eggs and potatoes. And since I need to stay in the house in case the storage pod shows up, I’ll be making my own coffee this morning. So the first thing I do is grab the silver canister of pre-ground beans and set the moka pot up on the stove. Then I preheat the oven, set up my cast iron skillet on a burner, and start chopping the potatoes.

I have just popped the skillet with the sauteed potatoes, eggs, and cheese into the oven to bake when I get an alert on my phone letting me know the pod should be in my driveway in the next hour or so. While I appreciate the expediency, I still feel pretty low on energy and I am not looking forward to unloading the rest of my earthly belongings by myself. My only hope is that the holy trinity of carbs, protein, and fat in my breakfast give me the fuel to push through. And perhaps more coffee. I start the moka pot again before I even finish my first cup. 

The delivery and unloading of the pod itself is easy enough. I sign for it and confirm the scheduled time for its pickup. Once he’s gone, I unlock the padlock and pull up on the door to open it. Well, I try to. The space between the bottom of the door and the ground only grows by a few inches before it’s stuck. I bend at the knees to get my body weight as under it as possible and push up, but it doesn’t budge. 

Fuck. 

I struggle with it some more, but the thing must be off its track or bent because I cannot get the pod open. Maybe I should’ve asked the delivery guy to stay until I had it open in case of something like this. I didn’t even think about it. I keep trying to get it to budge, shaking it as hard as I can in hopes of bumping something back into its place, but my efforts are in vain. I am breaking out in a sweat and getting winded from the exertion. Worse of all, I’m beginning to feel frustrated, angry, and dangerously on the verge of tears. 

“Need any help with that?” a familiar voice says. Jeremiah looks even better today than he did yesterday, if that’s even possible. He’s wearing black sweatpants, a black tank top, and what looks like a very well-loved pair of black sneakers. It’s so unfair how little effort hot guys need in order to look good. I bet he uses 3-in-1 shampoo/conditioner/body wash and still looks this good. Meanwhile, I’m a sweaty and flustered mess who can’t open a storage pod. Time to play into the damsel-in-distress archetype, I guess. 

“It couldn’t hurt if you tried,” I say. “I’ve been failing for a while now.” 

“Let me see what I can do,” he says. Jeremiah crouches down on the ground and kind of shakes the door from the bottom. After getting a feel for the amount of stuck the door is, he gets in a squat position all the way to the ground. He looks over his shoulder and winks at me. 

“You’re going to want to stand clear.” 

Jeremiah takes a deep breath and then in a swift, powerful motion uses all of his considerable lower body strength to spring his entire body weight up and into the door. It slides up into the open position like it was never stuck in the first place. I’m embarrassed, honestly, and make a mental note to sign up for a gym as soon as possible. I had no idea I was so weak. Or maybe Jeremiah is just freakishly strong…?

No. I’m definitely the problem here. 

“Thank you so much. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do if I couldn’t get it up. I MEAN– OPEN!” I correct myself on the unintended innuendo but feel a hot flush crawl across my skin. “I don’t know what I would do if I couldn’t get it open. Sorry. I mean, thank you. Again.” 

Jeremiah has a shit eating grin on his face, clearly enjoying watching me squirm. “Don’t worry about it. Getting it up comes pretty easily for me.” 

I want to melt into the pavement. A pink blush spreads across my face. “Well you certainly made it look easy. Thank you, again.” I make a move into the pod and pick up the first liftable box to take it inside. There’s a dolly in here somewhere, but I’m frazzled to the point of needing the simplest task to accomplish at the moment. But my accomplishment is cut short before it’s made as Jeremiah takes the box out of my arms. 

“Let me help you with that.” 

“Oh, no. I mean, thank you, but this is my junk and I should unload it. I can unload it. I have a dolly in here somewhere for the heavier boxes.” 

“I’m certain you can unload them all on your own. But you don’t have to because I am here to help.” Jeremiah turns and heads inside the house with the box in hands. It’s hard to argue with that. 

With Jeremiah’s assistance, I get the pod unloaded in a third of the time. Not only is the man crazy strong, but he apparently also has super stamina that enables him to haul boxes twice as fast as it takes me to load them on a dolly and roll them inside. I’d feel bad about working him so hard if he didn’t seem so happy to do it. 

“Thank you– again– so much for your help,” I tell him after slamming the door to the empty pod shut. “You made my day so much easier. The least I can do is offer you a beer. I picked up a six pack of some local stuff that’s waiting in my fridge. Would you like one?” 

“Absolutely. I’d love a beer.” 

We head inside the kitchen and I grab a couple cans of beer from the refrigerator. I hand Jeremiah his. “The can design caught my eye, but the name is what sold me. ‘Beer for Humans.’ By Rhinegeist. Local stuff, love that.” 

“Haha,” his laugh is short and seems artificial. “Well, it’s certainly for me, then. What with my being human.” He opens his can and takes a long drink. I do the same, but from the corner of my eye I take in the long lines of his neck as he swallows. I want to lick it. I hope he doesn’t notice me staring. 

“Honestly, I owe you a lot more than a beer,” I tell him. “Can I buy you lunch? Or if you have someplace to be, maybe dinner at another time?” 

He gives me a half grin and runs his fingers through his hair and down to the nape of his neck where he rubs it sheepishly.  “Oh… I don’t know. I don’t think I can let you pay for our first meal together.” 

What the fuck does THAT mean? Oh, girl, you know what that means.  No I don’t. He could be an asshole with masculinity so fragile he can’t accept a woman being able to pay for a meal.  Does he really seem like that? You know he doesn’t. And even if he is kind of old fashioned, there is still the implication that he wants a date. That’s what he’s trying for.  I don’t know that! GIRL WHERE IS YOUR SELF-ESTEEM? DID YOU LOSE IT? DID IT GET MISPLACED DURING THE MOVE? 

Wait… how long have I been silent? Must say something. 

“Jeremiah, are you hitting on me?” The words fly out of my mouth. 

Well. That’s certainly something. 

Jeremiah’s face blooms red and his eyes go wide. He’s embarrassed. It’s cute. 

“I was going for ‘flirting’ more than ‘hitting on.’ Moreso cute and endearing than aggressive. Fuck, did I mess it up?”

No, but I might have. 

“I’m so sorry,” I say. “I didn’t mean to imply anything. You are being very kind. But I’ve been experiencing a bit of a culture shock here and I’m not confident in my interpretation skills.” 

“You’re telling me that men in New York don’t offer to buy dinner for lovely women such as yourself?” 

“Um…” I stall. “I mean, some men do. I’m sure. But I don’t think I’m the kind of woman those guys are looking for. They’re more interested in women who are looking to be taken care of.” 

“And you don’t need to be taken care of?” 

I’m suddenly feeling very exposed. “Yeah, I don’t know. I guess… not really. I’ve always had my shit together. There’s not much a guy can do for me that I can’t adequately do for myself.” 

“So what exactly do you get out of being with one?” 

“Oh, I don’t know. Companionship, I suppose. Someone to go with me to work functions and birthday parties. Maybe run errands together.”

“That’s it?” 

“I mean, I’m not asking anyone to do more than that.” 

“You shouldn’t have to ask. They should want to take care of you. Did you take care of them?” 

“Sure, guys always need a little help softening the rough edges in their lives. But I don’t mind being there for someone I care about. I never did anything I didn’t want to do” 

“So let me get this straight,” he says. “These guys– these boyfriends of your past– got to have a beautiful woman on their arm who put in the effort to make their lives easier and more comfortable just because you cared and in return they were just… there? That is a one-sided deal.” 

“Well, when you put it that way, I sound pretty stupid.” 

“No,” he says, dropping his tone to emphasize that he’s being serious. “You are not stupid for being giving and loving. They are stupid for not treating you with the same care and love. And they’re stupid for letting you get away.” Now it’s my turn to blush. I seem to be doing that a lot lately. “But, personally,” he continues, “I’m glad they were so stupid. Maybe if they were smarter, you wouldn’t have ended up here. In Loveland. Having a beer with me.” 

I do not know what to do with a man being so forthright and vulnerable. After so long in the city, I think I might be jaded to the possibilities of the world. You get stuck in a microcosm and forget that there’s so much more out there than the minutiae of that which is familiar. But Jeremiah’s openness feels so different than the emotionally guarded people I’m used to, it’s almost inhuman. Or maybe he’s actually the most human and all of us cynical assholes are the ones missing something essential. 

“So tell me, Molly,” he continues, unfazed. “What’s a guy like me gotta do to get a chance to take care of you?” 

I am– as is the parlance of our times– gagged. I must look like a fish with my mouth hung open wide. Or maybe not a fish, considering the way Jeremiah looks at my open mouth and ever-so-slightly bites his lip at the sight. 

“I’ll make you a deal,” he goes on. “Let me take you to dinner and I’ll help you learn how to be taken care of.” 

I bark out a quick laugh. “Who’s entering into one-sided deals, now?” 

“You giving me a chance is not one-sided. I promise you. Let me take you to dinner.” 

“Okay. It’s a deal. A date. It’s a deal and a date. I’d love to get dinner with you.” 

Jeremiah’s smile beams. “Great! Let’s say I pick you up at seven. Does that work?” 

“I’ll be here ready for you,” I answer, but I have to avert my gaze away from him. When I’m feeling shy, eye contact can be difficult. 

“Awesome,” he puts a finger under my chin and gently touches it, prompting me to look him in the eye again. It’s encouraging, not antagonistic. “Don’t worry about dressing up. The place we’re going to is casual, so wear what’s comfortable.” 

Damn. I didn’t even have to ask about the dress code. I think this is the first time a guy has ever thought about that little aspect of going out before I had the chance. Is Jeremiah for real? 

Well, his touch on my chin feels real And the shoulder muscles that his tank top is gracing look real. And all those boxes from storage are really in my house right now. All in all, things are seemingly real enough. Let’s see if he really shows up this evening. 

____________________________________________________________________________

“He’s hiding something.” My friend Haoyu, who is back in New York, is talking to me on speakerphone while I get ready for dinner. Back in the city, he has a few hours before he’ll even venture out the door for his nighttime diversions. Meanwhile, I’m leaning over the bathroom vanity smudging kohl around my eyes. “No guy is that perfect without a catch,” he says. 

“I don’t disagree, in principle,” I say with my mouth stretched open because that, for some reason, makes it easier to do my eyeliner. “But I haven’t witnessed any glaring red flags just yet, so it’s unfair to assume he’s outright deceptive.” 

“I bet he’s a Republican. Wait, no– a LIBERTARIAN. Oh no, I’ve got it: HE. LISTENS. TO. JOE. ROGAN.” 

I shudder. These things could very well be true. I am in Ohio. These midwestern men have that reputation. 

“I’m sure whatever’s wrong with him will come out during dinner. Then at the end of the night, I can thank him for his warm welcome and moving help, then go home by myself. No harm, no foul.” 

“Yeah, until he murders you and buries your bodies in the middle of kicker-shit Ohio because you bruised his fragile male ego by rejecting him.”

“HAOYU! Don’t put that kind of curse on me. Take that back!” 

“What? That’s what happens in places like that. They try to act like it’s some innocent idyllic heartland, but in actuality it’s a façade covering up a dark, seedy, sinister underbelly.”

“This from the guy who went to five different dungeon parties in the Hamptons last summer.”

“Shut up, you bitch. I can’t believe you left me to move to fucking Ohio. This city isn’t the same without you.”

“The city is exactly the same without me. The clubs you eventually make it to tonight will still be loud and the guys there will still be horny for your cute ass. And I will be having a quiet night in, just like I would when I was there. Only now I’m here.” 

“In stank ass Ohio.” 

“Yes, Hao, in Ohio. Where you are more than welcome to visit me anytime you wish.”

“Bitch, what the FUCK am I going to do in Ohio?” 

“Watch shitty reality television with me and drink wine til we pass out?” 

Haoyu sighs, “That does have its appeal. But I still miss you here and now.” 

“Darling,” I say, “I miss you even when we’re right next to each other.”

“Oh I love you, Molly. Never change.”

“Literally never.” 

“You know, you can’t keep me from worrying about you.  I mean, if you’re murdered by some buckeye boytoy, who do I have left? Troian? They don’t know a Kelly from a Birkin.” 

“You don’t have a Kelly or a Birkin.” 

“You know what? I hope the motherfucker does kill you now.” 

“You just said you love me!”

“More than life, bitch. Share your location with me before you go out with this stranger?”

“That I can do for you. And if you get a call from the cops tomorrow: he says his name is Jeremiah and he lives on my street.” 

“A strong lead for any missing person’s case.”

“I live for the convenience of others.”

“Girl, I can’t with you. BYYYYEEE!” and the line is cut. That’s my best friend! Wouldn’t be here without him. 

I finish my makeup and go ahead and do the Share My Location thing with Haoyu before I forget. Jeremiah said to dress casual, but I realize that “casual” might mean something different in Ohio versus Manhattan. I end up choosing a black maxi dress– one of those special items of clothing that can look just as appropriate at a burger joint as it is in a steakhouse. Hopefully wherever we’re going tonight doesn’t fall outside of that spectrum in either way. 

I’m still a bit dizzy by the way my day is unfolding. I woke up this morning assuming I would spend it sweating my ass off unloading boxes then finishing it with a dinner of one of those skillet pasta-for-two meals for one (me.) 

But now, I am preening in the mirror to get ready for a date with a hot guy who may or may not murder me. And here I was worried that life outside of New York would be boring. I don’t remember the last time a guy simply offered to buy me dinner because he wanted a chance with me. When Mark and I first started dating, we’d meet at the bar and split tabs. 

Jeremiah rings the doorbell at 7:02. On time, but not overly eager. He’s good. 

I open the door and there he is, looking great in fitted brown chinos, a white t-shirt, and an unbuttoned plaid flannel with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He puts his hand over the left side of his chest, pretending to clutch at his heart. 

“Molly, wow. You look beautiful,” he smiles warmly. “Are you hungry?” 

“I am! Nothing like unpacking every item you own to build up an appetite.” 

“Perfect. This place is about 20 minutes away, but I can get us there in 15 if the wind’s good.” 

He has such a sweet sense of humor. Being around him puts a genuine smile on my face. Damn. I am not looking forward to finding out what is wrong with this guy. 

Jeremiah offers me his arm and walks me to his hybrid SUV. The fact that he’s driving a hybrid does not go unnoticed– probably not a red hat kind of guy with a fuel efficient vehicle, right? I have no idea if I’m really honest with myself. Some people in this world are so far from my social orbit, they might as well be aliens.

Jeremiah opens the car door for me. He is really committed to this gentleman bit. As I settle into the passenger seat, he climbs into his side and starts the car. I brace myself for Dude Talk radio or top 40 hits, but instead the familiar sounds of The Clash flow from the speakers. 

Okay, Molly, maybe cool it on assuming the worst for a bit. He’s effortlessly proving you wrong at every turn, so it’s wasted energy. 

After a short drive, we pull up to the restaurant. It’s an unassuming little Korean barbeque joint nestled in a shopping center with an Asian market and what looks to be a Tai Chi spa. 

“Do you like Korean?” Jeremiah asks me. 

“Absolutely! Do you?” 

Jeremiah feigns offense. “What? You think because I’m some provincial schmuck from Ohio, I don’t know the finer points of international cuisine?” 

I laugh. “I know you’re not some provincial schmuck because no provincial schmuck would ever say ‘provincial schmuck.’”

“Fair enough! Either way, this place is amazing. Even the reddest of necks can enjoy it.” 

“Well, by all means lead the way.” 

____________________________________________________________________________

Jeremiah was right about the restaurant. Dinner was spectacular. We got tteokbokki and pajeon to start and then split grilled short ribs and buttered scallops at the table. We drank beer and soju and spent the entire evening laughing. Jeremiah has plenty of stories to tell about the rag tag band of misfits he calls friends. 

“Most of them live in Cincinnati, so I will drive in to hang out,” he tells me. “But every once and a while they’ll come out to the ‘burbs to see me. Especially if I bribe them with BBQ.” 

“You have to bribe them?” 

“I know, I know. But don’t get them wrong–they’re great people. They just hate driving anywhere more than a five mile radius from their places. I don’t take offense to it. You get into your 30s and you really start to enjoy the beauty of staying the fuck in. They’re always trying to talk me into moving closer to the city– then I wouldn’t have to bribe them with smoked meats to hang out. But I don’t want to move. I like the neighborhood. And as of late, neighbor, it’s gotten even better.” He gives me the subtlest wink and takes a swig of beer. 

Damn. He is good. 

After Jeremiah pays the bill to the joyous woman working the register at the back of the restaurant, we head back home. I am thoroughly impressed at this point. I don’t think I’ve had this much fun on a good old fashioned date since I was a teenager. If Jeremiah is secretly a murderer fattening me up for the slaughter, then I might as well moo. With a full stomach and the warm haze of soju relaxing me, I’m less inclined to pick him apart looking for whatever’s wrong with him. In fact, I’m feeling more inclined to take care of him once we get back to my place after an evening of him taking care of me. 

We pull up to my place, but he doesn’t cut his engine off before he hops out to open my door for me. We walk to my front porch and I turn to him. 

“Thank you for dinner. I had a really great time.” I look up at him from behind heavy, hooded eyes. I hope they look seductive and not just sleepy. I silently will him to close the distance between us and kiss me. 

I guess someone, somewhere hears my prayers because Jeremiah weaves his fingers through the hair at the nape of my neck and gently pulls me towards him as he bends into me. His kiss is fucking amazing. He’s commanding without being overly controlling, letting me ease into him while providing a sturdy base to hold us. He’s enthusiastic, but not aggressive. I feel flames through my body and I begin aching with need in a way long forgotten by me. 

“Would you like to come in?” I ask. My voice is hushed and breathy to the point I almost don’t recognize it as my own. 

Jeremiah lets out a frustrated groan. “Fuuuuck, Molly. I do. I really do. But I can’t. Not tonight.” 

“Oh. Okay. That’s fine,” I lie. “I just thought…” He stops me with another kiss. 

“No, Molly,” he punctuates each point with a new kiss, a new spot each time. “You have… no idea… how bad… I want to…” Jeremiah lingers, kissing my mouth on that one. I feel his left hand tracing the curves of my body, memorizing them by touch. His lips travel to the crook of my neck and I lean into the door to give him better access. 

“Not tonight,” he says. “I want to, but I can’t tonight. Don’t count me out, though,” he looks me in the eyes. “I want you, Molly. But I have to do this right.” 

I nod my head in understanding, even if my head and my body are in complete disagreement here. 

“Yeah, I understand. It’s okay. Really. We have nothing but time, right?” 

He takes my face in his hands and kisses me long and deep. When he breaks it off and stares me in the eye, I see a quiet anguish in them, like he’s struggling with his own internal battle between his better sense and the possibilities of what may lie on the other side of my front door. He kisses me again, firm but perfunctory, and groans against my mouth. I wonder what kind of groans I could elicit from him with my mouth around his cock, relaxing gradually until he breaches the back of my throat and I slide the complete length of him inside me. Fuck, I want to do that to him so bad. 

“Tonight when you get in your bed and under your sheets, know that I’ll be in mine thinking of you, Molly. I’ll be thinking about this,” his hands smooth over and down my body, “every second until I fall asleep. And then some more in my dreams.” He turns to leave and takes a step before doing a heel turn to face me again, pinning me against the door again for another blistering kiss. This time, he gently grabs my wrist and guides it to his leg, prompting me to run my fingers over the rock hard length of him pressing against his chinos. 

Jesus. Fucking. Christ. Even under the clothes I can tell it’s an amazing cock. I want it. If not tonight, then fucking soon. I’m grateful that he took the initiative to show he wants me too. I’d probably go crazy wondering if he didn’t. 

“And if you find yourself tonight thinking about me,” Jeremiah whispers in my ear, “don’t be afraid to let me know.” He gently nips at my earlobe with his incisors and plants a final kiss on my forehead before he does an awkward little jog back to his car. He hops in and waves goodbye before he pulls out of my driveway and back into the night. I head inside and lock the front door behind me, booking it straight to my bedroom. I have to relieve the ridiculous excess of tension this man has wound up inside me. 

____________________________________________________________________________

Between the soju and the intense orgasm I gave myself thinking about all the things I want to do to Jeremiah, I am pretty relaxed. But the need he’s riled within simply refuses to be sated. All this dude had to do is act like a gentleman to me and it’s made me hornier than I’ve been in years. It makes you wonder why more men don’t try this. Do guys know what a powerful aphrodisiac respect is? Are they cognizant of all the dirty, decidedly unladylike things we want to do after being treated like a lady in the first place? They probably don’t care. 

I’m in the middle of one such unladylike dream– something along the lines of Jeremiah bending me over a counter and fucking me from behind so hard I can feel it in my throat– when a loud crash completely wakes me up. Once I get my bearings, I look to the window where bright flashes pierce the dark of night. I hear the wind rustle violently and the sharp thuds of heavy raindrops pelt the roof above me. Damn. Storms out here hit differently than they do in the city. There’s a violence to them. 

I pry myself from bed and go to the kitchen to get a drink. It’s not unusual for me to wake up with a dry mouth after having Korean barbeque. Something about soy sauce and soju leaves me dehydrated as hell. I make myself a glass of ice water and lean against the kitchen counter while listening to the rain outside grow heavier and wilder. I open my laptop to look at the forecasts and do a quick search for “tornadoes southern Ohio.” From what I can deduce, I’m relatively safe for the night, if only disrupted by the cacophony of the storm. 

Then as if time with a particularly strong gust, my power goes out. My laptop still lights up but my internet is out. The lights on my appliances go dark and the hall light I turned on between my bedroom and the kitchen is off. I’m still in the middle of unpacking some of my things. I wouldn’t know the first place to look for my flashlight even if I had light to look for it with. I feel my way back to my bedroom and blindly grab at my mattress until I find my phone laying on it. I was an idiot and didn’t plug it in before I fell asleep and now it’s down to 31% power. Great. I plug it in to my bedside charger and hope the power will be back on before I wake up. 

____________________________________________________________________________

It’s 7 am when I awake and the rain is relentless. It’s dreary, dark, and gray outside. The power still seems to be out. My phone is drained to 24%. Good morning to me. 

I use the restroom and brush my teeth in the dark. There’s just enough morning light that I’m not bumping into things, but considering this place is still pretty new to me, I won’t beat myself up for having to run my hands across the walls to navigate my way into the kitchen. I fumble around in the drawers until I find the heavy duty pair of scissors I use to open boxes. I might as well start unpacking what I can in hopes that I stumble upon my flashlight or maybe even some candles. 

After about five or six boxes, I begin to wonder if I ever owned a flashlight in the first place because I am simply not finding one. I’m pretty certain I spent money on a heavy duty one back  in the city, but maybe I left it there in my old apartment. Maybe Mark took it with him when he left me. Or perhaps I put it in a box that was sucked into another dimension. It has to be one of those options– definitely no room for anything else. 

Okay, I’m obviously going crazy here. 

All search and no find makes Molly a daffy bitch. 

Maybe it’s time to ask for some help. Didn’t Jeremiah say I could come to him if I needed anything? If he didn’t say it, it definitely seems like something he would say. I bet he has flashlights abound. He may even know how to get my power back on. Or he may have power at his house and will let me hang out until mine comes back on. 

God, how ridiculously sad would it be for me to show up at his door sopping wet and helpless in the face of my first midwestern storm? Pretty sad. Or possibly… hot? He does seem like the type of guy who loves to play White Knight. Would it be so bad for me to lean into the Damsel-in-Distress role? 

Only one way to find out. 

I change into an oversized hoodie and sweatpants that may not keep me dry, but are better than any other clothing options I have on hand. I pocket my phone and keys. There’s an umbrella in my car, so I make sure to grab it before I brave the rain. 

I open the door and it’s not letting up one bit. I step into the open air and the rhythm of the drops on my umbrella is deafening. I stick to the sidewalk and head in the direction I saw Jeremiah drive off towards the night before. I see his SUV in the driveway that looks a lot like my house but flipped on the vertical axis, just like he said it was. As I scurry to his front porch, It is obvious there isn’t any light on inside. It looks like nobody is home. That makes sense. It’s the middle of the day, he could be out running errands or seeing friends. Most people have lives that a little rain can’t keep them from living. I ring the doorbell anyways, just in case. But, alas, there is no answer. 

My plan firmly defeated, I start to head back home. But then a SMACK noise nearby catches my attention. Jeremiah’s fence has blown open, leaving his backyard exposed. I decide to be a good neighbor and close it– surely the gate being open, door banging against the posts behind it and flapping in the wind could damage something. I’m new to this homeowners thing, but it seems to me that one would prefer the gate to be closed in such an instance. I pull the handle of the door as it scrapes mud from the ground beneath it. But before I close it completely, something in Jeremiah’s backyard catches my eye. Or rather, someone. 

My heart drops as my brain registers what I’m seeing. That’s a body laying prostrate in the middle of Jeremiah’s yard. At first glance, it looks like they could be unconscious. 

Oh god. It’s Jeremiah. 

He could be dead. He could have fallen out here and hit his head. Lightning could have struck him. 

Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.

I sprint as fast as I can towards Jeremiah’s still form. A million alarms are going off in my head. At some point, I dropped the umbrella and I can feel the rain soak through my clothes. 

Please don’t be dead. 

Please don’t be dead. 

Please don’t be dead. 

I reach him and it dawns on me: Jeremiah is naked. Also– this man doesn’t quite look like Jeremiah because this man is… blue? Or green. Definitely a blue-green. And his skin is mottled, like it’s covered in goosebumps a shade darker than the general teal of his pallor. Do corpses turn teal? I’m pretty sure that’s not the question I should be asking because from what I can see, this body is alive. Unless dead bodies pulse in and out like they’re breathing. I’m pretty sure that’s more of a live body thing. 

I have no idea who– or what– this is. Fear spreads from my gut to my limbs and I freeze. Then, as if awakened by my change in emotion, the body’s eyes open. Gone are the smiling, kind eyes I stared into across the table at Korean barbeque. In their place are oversized reptilian orbs with elliptical pupils. They go wide at the sight of me, their darkness reflecting the storm clouds above us. 

Someone is screaming. 

Oh shit, it’s me. I’m the one screaming. And I’m not stopping. Even as Jeremiah leaps up from the ground and pulls me into him with one giant, webbed hand while putting the other over my still screaming mouth. It muffles the sound, sure, but I feel the power of the reverberations. That’s the thing about screams of terror, I am now learning: they’re not just some loud noise. They’re the pure power of fear surging through your body. Another thing about terror screams: they are consuming. I feel my energy levels drop even as my screaming refuses to let up. As I lose power, a darkness begins to build around the periphery of my vision. It creeps in slowly until I am no longer present. 

[saxobuggie]

Just feel like ranting on a Friday❤️

Fuck my tc, in the bad way, whole heartedly.

Fucking asshole.

Fucking red flag.

Yet, fuck my own brain for ever opening up to him.

People usually say others get age gap crushes because they have "daddy issues", which, I do not. I love my dad a lot and he's the best dad I could ever ask for.

My thing for older men developed from reading too much fanfiction about a certain fictional professor who only wears black and canonically doesn't wash his hair.. <3 (Severus Snape my love)

That's why I never actually understood if this was a crush. I never bothered to explore it because finding out the truth wouldn't help the agony of knowing its wrong.

I'm allowed to fantasize, yes. But fuck you man. I feel like I've wasted my whole year doing nothing but try be his favourite student to impress him.

Sure, my grades improved a hell lot. But it's so frustrating to know that all that I'm doing is for nothing and is jackshit.

He's dating my senior. I just fucking know it.

He proceeds to lead me on and I feel like a toy.

I've tried to ignore him. Tried to fix my mind and make this silly little crush go away. But my brain is too hijacked to fix.

So all I can do now is silently regret ever falling for him and blame myself for getting attached.

Hey. Have a good weekend tho! <3 get the rest you all deserve! (Whether you're a student OR a teacher)

[w98pops]

Still cant believe a fucking terf is in fallout fandom intecacting with trans creators and drawing her ugly stereotypical twink transmasc character. You should be ashamed

What is even happening to my inbox anymore. Idk if it's the same person that asked about Sharky or not, but it really makes me uncomfortable.

I don't know where the TERF stuff even come from, but I'm very open with my political views and yeah, I was a radfem in 2019 or something. I also was a very vulnerable sad russian teenager. I know not a lot of people on tumblr aware of all the intricacies of russian internet scene, but I assume you, anon, have some knowledge, because you called me a TERF in the first place.

There's an internet phenomenon called "alt-right pipeline" and I fell in the simular thing called "TERF pipeline". This shit is inevitable for every single afab person that speaks russian. It's a really big thing. I don't say it's an excuse to be a bigot, but I was 12 when i first touched the internet. I was insecure, very fucking poor and spiteful. Also I had and (still have) some hormone problems and was generally a pretty ugly girl so coped with it by drawing ponies and hating on elusive and mysterious "men in skirts" these smart twitter girlies always talked about.

To be perfectly honest, I genuinely don't understand what russian TERFs are fighting for or against, I was in this shit for solid few years and still have no idea. I mean, now it's illegal to be transgender in Russia (a real law), but it wasn't a win for these angry teenage girls, it was a win for genocidal bigoted russian government, the same one that legalized domestic violence (also a law. its officially not a real crime in this country). I went off the topic and started ranting about my frustrations with the government again FUCK 😭

I tried to say that russian internet is genuinely a fucked up place, but I lived in the middle of Siberia in a village, ideologically only had my orthodox grandma, racist older brother and TERFs on the internet. I only started to learn english a few years ago, so i didn't have enough options before that. Or, to better words, didn't have enough knowledge to be a better person.

I'm really really and sincerely fucking sorry for that. Like, truly. It was really fucked up and I'm ashamed of stuff I said and supported blindly. I now have resources and have some media literacy in my disposal and basic understanding of english to educate myself about the topics I'm talking about. I'm trying my hardest to show support and love to all my queer friends and mutuals, and as an artist I do all I can to be inclusive, not because I feel the need to, but because I want to.

I have no right to speak about trans people and their issues and I won't. I don't know if Sharky is as bad as anon described, because I'm biased (this is my character after all) and not educated enough to acknowledge all the stereotypes associated with transmasculinity. I would really enjoy to hear opinions of my fellow transmen. To address some of my choices regarding his design and writing:

- He wears pink, because it's a quirky color that doesn't show up much in Fallout. Never meant to de-masculate him or to ridicule him. It's my favorite color, after red and brown, which are the primary colors of Wendy.

- He has a silly personality and a carefree attitude because 1) I'm projecting and 2) Wendy needed a character to balance out her awkward and moody autism

- He's a girl's boy and has wives. I didn't have the reason to make him not like girls. I wanted him to be an example of positive masculinity and solidarity. He is a straight dude who loves women. Not just sexually attracted to them or sees them as pets. They are his partners. With their own personalities and lives. Also I wanted to make a full circle 😭😭😭 I'm asexual and bi-romantic. I like boys, girls, all between and beyond boys and girls and don't really think sex is a big thing for me. Aletus likes boys, Sharky likes girls and Wendy likes when there's no sex. Pretty simple, I think.

Hope this explains why Sharky is the way he is. Would still really appreciate an opinion from a trans person. Or any kind of feedback really, because I've been feeling really fucking bad lately and can't objectively reflect on my choices. Also more questions about my OCs are very much welcome. There's a lot of stuff that made me feel like I've been misiforming people, including this anonymous message, and I will specify anything you want to know. Thank you all a lot.

[bdsmrist]

okay so im losing my actual mind rn over the damn pi$$fagg0t jacket

im doing my second play-through of disco elysium and for some god forsaken reason, kim just wont wear the piss faggot jacket this time around

i already have 8+ Suggestion in order to pass the passive check, but Conceptualization chimes in instead at the end our or interaction after i get my hands on the jackets. its especially frustrating bc i was able to get him to wear it my first playthru, so i have no clue what it is abt this time that it isnt happening.

to be fair, im trying to save scum less thru this playthru, so ive had more than a few interactions where i make a complete ass of myself in front of kim. i also shoved a finger up my ass, for honour cop purposes. he did not like that. so is it that he trusts me less this time around? ive already internalized the Communism route, and i have not said a single bigoted thing (bc duh). ive also had other successful passive checks w him (like convincing him to hear abt cryptids) that suggest he likes me. but i also didnt get the “out lucky racist!” “he’ll grant us three wishes” interaction this time, so what the fuck is it? does he just not rock w me like that? does he hate me? am i failing the kim kitsuragi dating sim? am i doomed to only experiencing pissfaggot and fucktheworld dynamic duo once? is all joy ephemeral?

pls help me out here. if u know ANY info on this i would rly like to know so i can at least get it the next time i play. thank u 🙏

[gaming-thoughts-by-an-idiot]

Fable 2, may the frustration begin!

"Alrighty, let's go, I've already had a break after crying about Rose and Sparrow and I just named the dog Snape"

"Fuckin hell, there's a hurricane outside haha hope it doesn't take away the power haha"

"Woow, the shirt I'm wearing is -5.0 attractive! That's so mean!"

"I put my wagon up for rent cuz im smart this time"

Game: someone just tried to flirt with you

Me: damn, bad taste

"Theresa just said 'come with me' AND THEN WALKED IN THE WAY. MOVE BITCH MOOOOVE"

Theresa: when you come out from there, you're gonna be stronger-- much stronger

Me: from puberty

"Snape found something... it's a Ball! Thank god, I thought it was gonna be a condom"

"The controllers are a bit awkward, but that's probably more on me since I've been playing more pc lately"

"Old tomb, oh no Snape is scared! My baby:("

Game: this is what the different colour orbs mean

Me, laughing awkwardly: haha yeah I'm not gonna remember that

"Sluuurp it up like bubble tea!... oh ew"

*opens a chest*

*dog barks*

Me: yeah thanks I already found it...

"I think this is actually one of the times I prefer shooting enemies"

*actually uses the melee weapon*

"Oh, no I think I'm still a melee weapon bastard"

"There's some letters on some skeletons and they're all like 'I'm gonna poison my mates' so yeah they all poisoned eachother, brilliant"

"Ya know, the orbs are kinda like bubble tea... I've only had apple, oh or maybe frog eggs... you know what? Nevermind."

"Savin station, gotta love mah savin station"

Game, after I've slurped up the orbs: outstanding work!

Me: thank you! You know, I like this kinda of encouragement

*orbs slurped up and character glowing and stepping back*

Me: iiiiiii don't wanna say what I'm thinking but I'm gonna anyways... she just had an orgasm

"Oh look, a bright light in the middle of the room, that doesn't scream 'sword in the stone' at all"

Theresa: there were many with the hero blood in their veins, then there were none-

Me: cuz someone decided to be asexual

Theresa: now, step into the circle

Me: last time I did that my sister and then myself got shot soooo

"Fine, I'll step into the light"

"Holy shit, I just saw her underwear cuz of the animation"

"Crap she's talking about the orbs"

"Something about Will"

"Ooh, I spot another water dive thing"

"Omg swim faster, what? There's a rock in the way? Well fuck it and swim through it"

"If this is a condom- oh a weapon, nice"

"Ooooh... B is NOT the swim faster.. A is hahaaah oops"

"Ohohoh, a bunny! Ooh I can run?? Ooh I can throw the force? Hehe get back here ya lil shit. Fucking hell, yeah you get away this time! Until I figure out the controls, that is"

"Theres supposed to be a door here, Where's the door"

"Oh there it is, cant do anything about it I'm sure but there is it"

"Oh no, it's the smart door"

"I cant even laugh, the author door wasn't mean about it, unless it was and I'm just stupid"

"Damn, this guard really looked at this teen(?) And went 'yeah you look like a person who can fight, go do our job' like thanks I guess"

"Time to fight a bitch"

"Came a guy by, name Dick, and I had to take the safety off so I could kill him"

"But I'm the good guy I promise"

Game: you inhabit a morally grey area, doing what you feel like, when you feel like it

Me: wow, that is just me in every game ever holy shit

"Some times the sound will just disappear and its the game which makes this annoying, or I think it is..."

"It was the xbox, that decided mid game that switching sound source would be fun, and it was not fun"

"I hope I saved..."

"Almost pressed new character, scared me"

"I should delete the other saves..."

"I'm trying to get a discount with a trader by being funny"

"Hehe 19% off"

"Oh right, heart means they love me... this is gonna be a nightmare"

"Oh my god what have I created, corset, short shorts and long boots oh no I look like a whore"

"Theresa is gonna be so disappointed like 'I left you alone for ONE minute' omg"

"But atleast I'm 20% hot"

"The Y button is NOT inventory!!"

"Omg, her new hair... and make up... jesus"

"So, how attractive am I? 20% for clothes, 10% for hair and 12% for make up, that's pretty good, I mean I look like a slut but ya know"

"Crap, I was gonna go see Theresa"

"I've just been crying while trying to make swords and it's probably horrible, I'm so sweaty from the anxiety but I made 336 coins"

"I changed my name to dumpling and I'm feeling weird about it"

"Earning money so I can buy houses so I can be a horrible landowner to put rent up so I can continue this"

Game: you're now a blacksmith!

Me: jesus christ no

Game: you've successfully made 7 swords

Me: don't @ me like that, I have emotions

Game: this villager is attracted to you-

Me: that's a first

"Heheh, this man loves me, and now I got 25% off"

"I stole something from a chest and it gave me +5 in evil and guess what it is? A fucking condom"

"I got evil for stealing a condom"

"Eeehhh, looks like i gotta play more lute to get that up"

"Hehe"

"Fable is just like stitch, need to get my good-ness level up"

"I've earned 3k and only 82 swords but I also lost like 400years of my lifetime die to stress so"

"I need 400 more to buy a house ugh"

[i-left-my-room-tidy]

favorite thing to do in each of your drs?

[thanks for this ask!]

- - -

HP DR

splurging 😭😭😭 I've always had a bad habit of hoarding things in my CR, and the fact that i scripted (technically) unlimited money for myself doesn't help that. i have the backing of two great families (grindelwald and martell; black, crouch, and malfoy don't count; the gaunt vaults have nothing to add, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯), and while those major houses took hits during the two blood wars, ultimately, it didn't detract from their wealth.

so, yes, I'm just grabbing as much as i need. as someone who's financially struggling in my CR, it's so fucking cathartic to not worry about a serious restriction in money. i do have a limit set for each shopping session, though—my uncle became stricter with my spending when i came back from leeds with several bags of clothes (rich or not, he said, i can't be careless with how i spend—which, alright, point).

i usually just buy clothes and trinkets—i rarely buy books unless i feel i can actually finish them. I'm still unused to not using a phone to search for articles or stories online. some of the things I'm ecstatic at having spent money on include: an original 59 gibson standard (y'all i actually cried over this), several issues of the antique doll collector magazine, and an honest-to-god ballgown (i can try drawing a replica of it when i have the time). if I'm lucky, i can also find some good vintage thingamajigs at garage sales [i once bought a pair of wooden hairsticks with dangling pearls, which actually resemble the ones i wear in my naruto DR—lmao it made me kinda freak out when i saw them].

- - -

Naruto DR

experimenting with my sharingan, or elemental bending in general. i don't think i can ever get bored with doing either of those things. they're frustrating, sometimes, when i feel as if I'm not making progress with a certain aspect or process (like controlling multiple elements at once, or working on my stamina)—but overall, they're activities i could never stay idle with, and i enjoy that.

I've only recently started practicing with my mangekyō abilities (I'll make a post about the eyes themselves in the future). it's fun, and just the slightest bit morbid, but genuinely exciting. I've used my mangekyō on rats (and afterwards, feeding their remains to my snake), and smaller variants of its power on shady individuals. the actual abilities of my mangekyō sharingan are a bit, erm, psychologically violent, so take it with a small grain of salt when i do talk about it.

elemental bending, on another note, is so fucking convenient. i keep telling my clanmates to be more creative with their jutsu (looking at you, you fucking elders), because any job's easier when you approach situations from a different angle—but everyone mostly leaves me alone to my, and i quote, "freak of nature shenanigans". i actually laughed when madara told me that—shifting really makes you OP, huh. anyways, i use elemental bending not just for combat-related activities, but also mundane ones. even just a gradeschool level of understanding on how science works might suffice. basic house skills: cooking, washing clothes, ironing, scrubbing floors; alright, chores, but they're actually fun when i apply elemental bending on them.

although, the radicality of some ideas i borrowed from history are really seen as strange. and no, nobody's accusing me of witchcraft or foul play, it's honestly just weird to them to see me use the science we're familiar with.

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

tw talk of nail biting? and stimming ig? i dunno wtf to tag this with, sorry.

okay, this is gonna sound really stupid. like. ik this is me overreacting but i feel like i just need to talk about it. advice would be great but if you just want this to be a vent, that's fine. im Xra.

i bite my nails ok? i bite my nails, i like, gnaw on my hands, pick at my skin, shit like that, I always have. the gnawing thing is a stim, like, i'm autistic and sometimes i just have half my hand in my mouth trying to comfort myself or contain my feelings. which sounds gross, i know it does, trust me, i've been told, you don't have to tell me. i've tried to stop. i briefly stopped biting my nails. long nails are sensory HELL and something bad happened and i just fell right back into it and i never stopped any of the other stuff.

but i have a sister, who i avoid, bc she's mean to me most of the time. i don't mean like, 'ooh my sister is just annoying :/ i hate not being an only child', i mean she's always telling me shit like she used to hate me, and stuff i need to work on so that i'm not so "abrasive" or "weird" or telling me stories about every time i messed up when i was little and how stupid i looked, which is realy fun because some of those incidents i didn't even realize i was looking stupid! she makes me feel bad. ANYWAY. she also likes to point out and kind of pick on me for my nail biting shit.

but she pointed it out when my mom was in the room. and most people don't say anything about it bc they know im very self conscious about it. but my sister was going on and on about how i needed to get a handle on it and how it looked nasty and then she turned to my mom and she was like right? and my mom, who usually says nothing at all about it! and has never been mean about it like this! went off on a tangent about how my dad bites his nails, his mom bites her nails, and how its a "generalational curse" from his side and how i'll probably do it all my life and chip my teeth and wear down my nails and have all sorts of complications that i'll have to deal with because she can't handle trying to convince me to stop. it was just. i was straight up crying. it was awful.

i guess it was meant to be a wake up call for me. and i guess i get it. its disgusting. and i'm fucked up or whatever. but i can't stop. especially bc of the whole autism and stimming shit. i know it's stupid to get upset because. she's right, i SHOULD stop, it is bad, ect ect, but i can't stop feeling really hurt about it because like-she never even apologized and she just pretends it didn't happened but now i feel even worse about it all and even more anxious, which makes me do it more. :/

Hi Xra,

I'm sorry to hear about what you've been going through. Please know that you're not alone.

While biting nails may be a destructive behavior depending on how serious it is, the way your family has approached it seems to be exacerbating it. It sounds like your family shames you for doing this, which may be making you do it more, or feel more secretive or shameful about it. But feeling shameful about it or wanting to hide it is not really going to address the situation or make you feel comfortable enough to work towards a healthier substitute.

It sounds like your sister is constantly criticizing you, and not in a constructive way. It doesn't sound like she necessarily wants you to improve or do what she can to foster a supportive environment in which you feel encouraged to work on improving, rather it sounds like she makes snide comments like that she used to hate you and just overall making you feel insecure. Though your sister may be frustrated with your nail biting, there are far more considerate and helpful ways to address it.

While I don't know the exact extent of your nail biting habits, it's worth considering that biting one's nails is actually extremely common, and though some people may see it as gross, it's mainly just seen as a sign of stress. It's essential to have healthier coping mechanisms in place that provide comfort and help you manage stress and anxiety. Exploring alternative stims or finding calming activities can be helpful in redirecting the need for stimming through nail biting.

It's important to remember that changing a long-standing habit takes time and patience. Instead of focusing on the negative aspects, try to approach this with self-compassion and understanding. Know that you deserve support and encouragement in finding healthier ways to manage your stress and emotions.

If you feel comfortable, you may want to discuss your concerns with a therapist who specializes in autism or anxiety. They can provide guidance and strategies specific to your needs. Additionally, seeking out online communities or support groups for individuals with similar experiences might be beneficial. Connecting with others who understand what you're going through can provide a sense of validation and support.

Please know that you are not defined by your nail-biting habit, and it doesn't diminish your worth as a person. Focus on self-care, finding healthy coping mechanisms, and surrounding yourself with understanding and supportive individuals.

I hope I could help. Please let us know if you need anything.

-Bun