#oversharing i know but i'm so worried

[kyaruun]

i'm going to cut my hair short and i'm worried that it won't look good on me but i need to cut it for,, health reasons. and it's not like i'm getting a pixie cut but it's going to be the shortest i've ever had my hair and i'm just overthinking

[magentagalaxies]

.

[artekai]

Feeling real hopeless in this holiday tonight ngl

[mjn-air]

.

[iguessitsjustme]

So we are halfway through Ghost Host Ghost House and this show is amazing. It’s healing me in a way I didn’t expect. I lost someone close to me last month and I am still processing that and the last scene of the episode this week really hit me and it hit me hard. I normally don’t post really personal things on here, but I really just need to say how amazing this show is and how I very much needed this show right now.

Kawin has gone through a tremendous loss already when he lost his best friend. And then his family who he came to see loved him so much that they came back after they died. They were so worried about him that they came back. And they hid that they died because I’m assuming they know the grief and loss he’s already experiencing and how much he must be hurting and they don’t want to add onto that pain.

And then there’s Pluem. Sweet, darling Pluem. Who is so terrified of ghosts, but who is so broken that his father didn’t come back for him. Who’s father died at the same time and the same place as Kawin’s family and who died for the same reason. But he’s not back. And Pluem is so alone in his grief. His sister is in the hospital and his dad is gone and it’s all so recent too. And suddenly he’s alone but he has to keep living. He needs to go to work and make money and to do so he needs to still be his usual friendly and cheerful self. But when he hears that Kawin has his family and he doesn’t, it breaks him. He can’t even be angry at the family who were only on that road because they were worried about See-nam. He can’t be mad at Kawin because it’s not Kawin’s fault they came back and his dad didn’t. But the sheer pain and agony of seeing the return of lost loved ones when yours didn’t come back. When all you want is to see them again so desperately that you go and you plead with the universe to give you something. Just one reason. Just one thing that you can hold on to when you have nothing else. And Pluem absolutely broke me at the end of this episode because I get it. All too much right now. And I’m sure so many other people watching get it too. It hurts.

But the healing comes with knowing that despite his father not being there, he was definitely loved. He talked about his father with such fondness when telling Kawin how his dad prepared food for him as a kid. He’s been actively talking with the police to find out what happened and he wouldn’t have done that had he not been loved. The healing comes with knowing that though they were countries apart, Kawin’s family loved him so much they returned from the dead to make sure he was okay. The healing comes when you realize that despite it all, Pluem and Kawin found each other. The healing comes when you realize that the love that each dying family member felt for those they left behind is not gone, it is just reshaped into something new. Pluem and Kawin have found their new love and while it is laden with grief and the pain and sorrow of loss, it is still love and it is still there for them when they need it.

[steponmepinkjun]

How bout now?

Honestly the mood rn is happy spoopy season we love spoopy season the mood this month is 50% excitement bc I am finally scheduling my uterus-deletus surgery woohoo cannot fucking WAIT to yeet this goddamn useless organ out of my body, I don't need her she's giving us nothing, not only thta but I can't wait to not have to worry about being denied my meds since they can cause birth defects bc the US is now a forced birth hellstate, gonna fuckin YEET this bitch n be done w her 10evr I'm so fucking happy I cried at my Dr's appt ufhwufjahdn and but also mood 50% trepidation bc I am trying to write fic (NOBODY PERCIEVE ME EVEN U DONT PERCIEVE ME AS I TYPE THIS I AM RETIRED FROM FIC FOREVER AND I MEANT IT WHEN I SAID I WOULD NEVER WRITE FIC OF THE BOYFIES. I STILL MEAN IT, LOOK AWAY, I AM NOT WRITING BOYFIE FIC I am attempting to write boyfie fic) but like legitimately. This is my publicish coming out as being like going on five months sober lmfao bleh 🤪 hot girl shit 🤪 jfhwjdueiaj and tbh doing creative stuff is a lot harder now than it used to be, drunk me had soooo much creative genius she was so funny n so glam omg but like also she's dead bc I literally don't miss her so 🤷🏻‍♀️ OVERSHARE OVERSHARE OVERSHARE JGHWBFHRJAUFNSUHFNSJS thank u for asking my little kumquat

[dan-crimes]

Mfs can't understand a blunt mf they always gotta try and read between the lines or straight up deny the words you're saying and deny how you feel

[dragonstamp]

I hate being vulnerable, especially to people I don't know well. Too many people have misunderstood me and acted cruel on the basis of those assumptions.

[aro-aura]

i always thought romantic love was the plague and i was a plague doctor.

so here's an aro-colored plague doctor

me oversharing beneath the cut about how amatonormativity has screwed me up in ways I have never been screwed up before.

(rant beneath the cut is full of negativity, triggering, but perhaps relatable. idk. read at your own risk)

okay so let's have a mini story telling time about how romance plagued every aspect of my life until now.

My bestfriend in high school treated me of less value after she gets her boyfriend. This experience was what drove me into drawing plague doctors during valentines. These doodles were captioned with "Plague is in the air", because my friends in my circle told me to not hang out with her on that day because it's valentines day. So cool, I thought I should avoid them like they were the plague.

For the first half of college, I've been a wingman for way too many of my friends for my only female and best friend.

It has gotten to a point where the meaning of my companionship with my male friends had become solely for providing a connection to a girl they want to date.

In the long run, my bestfriend, who my 'friends' were pining for, actually has been pining for me. She asked if we could be a thing, I said yes because I thought that, romance isn't probably as disgusting as I think of it.

To protect tradition and to protect the feelings of the men she rejected (who I also wingmanned), we kept it hidden.

For the entire time, she emphasized how I was dense and oblivious about romance. For the entire time I was confused, disoriented, and even repulsed. I didn't know how to reciprocate and I certainly did not have THOSE feelings either at all.

Of course it didn't end well.

After that failed attempt at romance, I have been involved in three more encounters after that. Men suddenly started talking to me out of nowhere. Initially, I thought that they were just trying to make new friends. I didn't realize they were hitting on me but when I did, I cold-shouldered them out of my life.

The last one was the most traumatic. I have explicitly stated that he shouldn't attempt to romance me because I've admitted that I'm way too tired of dealing with it, but he was stubborn. He has also gone as far as sexualizing me against my will.

So yeah.

Amatonormativity made me lose faith in the meaning of my friendships.

It made me realize how friendship is easily overshadowed by romantic relationships.

It made me worry that my kindness is misread as a romantic gesture.

It made me constantly hate how friendship is only seen as a stepping stone for a romantic relationship.

And because amatonormativity has rendered all my significant connections meaningless, I'll spend every second of my life hating amatonormativity. I will always be repulsed at the concept that destroyed every goddamned friendship that I had. Nothing has ever made me feel THS sick. I will always think of it as the plague.

[movinginelliptical]

boop

[writingforstraykids]

Ready, pretty?

Pairing: Minchan

Word Count: 2564

Summary: One night, after sharing a few drinks, Minho feels safe enough to overshare a little, thinking Chan is too drunk to remember the next day. He doesn't know that Chan remembers every word and is more than willing to help him with his little issue.

Warnings/Tags: fluff, late-night confessions, drunk confessions, friends to lovers (sort of), virgin!min, first time

A/N: Oh well, another audio that rotted azzy's and my brain😂 Based on this audio by my dear miu, hope you like it love @slutforchanlix 🖤

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©writingforstraykids 2024-

Minho and Chan found a quiet spot away from the bustling crowd at the party, nestled under the comforting canopy of a sprawling tree. A soft blanket spread beneath them provided a makeshift sanctuary from the noise and distractions. The night sky above them was a tapestry of stars, twinkling faintly amidst the velvet darkness.

They sat side by side, shoulders brushing occasionally as they sipped from their drinks, the clinking of glasses a gentle background to their conversation. Minho, already feeling a bit lightheaded from the alcohol, couldn't help but notice Chan's relaxed demeanor and chuckled inwardly, convinced his friend was also a few drinks past sobriety.

"You look like you're in another world, Channie hyung," Minho teased lightly, nudging him playfully. "What's on your mind?"

Chan chuckled, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. "Just enjoying the peace, I guess. It's rare to have moments like this."

"Yeah," Minho agreed, taking another sip. "Life's been hectic lately, huh?"

Chan nodded, his gaze drifting upwards towards the stars. "Tell me about it. Sometimes I just need to escape from all the noise and expectations."

Minho nodded sympathetically, feeling a wave of empathy wash over him. "I get that. So, how do you relax best, then?"

“There's only been one thing that actually helped lately,” Chan grinned mischievously, a glint in his eyes as he glanced at Minho. "By relieving some tension…you know?"

Minho snorted, caught off guard by the unexpected response. He leaned his head on Chan's shoulder, his own laughter bubbling up. "I should've guessed."

Chan chuckled, patting Minho's knee affectionately. "You're not too bad at it yourself, Minho."

“What's that supposed to mean?” he asked with a snort.

“Your room's right below mine, I'm insomniac, so no, not everyone's asleep when you touch yourself,” he told him, taking another sip. “You're not exactly quiet sometimes and the vent carries it all the way up.”

“Oh,” he whispered, making Chan laugh. “Can't help it sometimes,” he said.

“Yeah, I get that,” Chan agreed, smirking to himself. There hasn't only been one time when Minho's soft moans and quiet whimpers kept him up, too sweet of a symphony to ignore.

Feeling emboldened by the alcohol and the already happening oversharing, Minho decided to share a bit more than he probably should have. "Yeah, well, I tried my fingers once, but it didn't feel nice. I didn't really know what I was doing, so I gave that up again."

Chan burst into laughter, the sound echoing softly in the quiet night. "Noted," he managed between laughs, shaking his head fondly at Minho's confession. Yeah, he'd remember that.

Realizing what he had just admitted, Minho blushed furiously, hoping the darkness hid his embarrassment. "Just don't tell anyone."

Chan sobered slightly, a warm smile on his face as he nudged Minho gently. "Hey, I'll keep your secrets safe, don't worry."

Minho hummed softly before glancing at Chan. “Did you ever try it?” 

“Yeah, a few times,” Chan nodded, seemingly unfazed. 

“Any…any advice?” he asked, ears burning up.

“Well, you should be able to relax, give yourself time and don't get too eager too fast. Also use enough lube and be careful so you don't hurt yourself,” he told him.

Grateful for Chan's understanding, Minho shifted the topic to something less potentially embarrassing. "Speaking of secrets, what do you think of our new album? You excited about it?"

Chan's eyes lit up with enthusiasm, his earlier humor returning. "Definitely. Also, you've been working so hard on those English lines, Minho. I'm impressed."

Minho pouted playfully, leaning back against the tree trunk. "I get tired of them sometimes, you know?"

Chan nodded sympathetically. "I can imagine. But seriously, you sound amazing singing them. Fans are gonna love it."

A small smile tugged at Minho's lips, grateful for Chan's praise. "Thanks, Channie. Means a lot coming from you."

They fell into a comfortable silence, content to simply be in each other's company, enjoying the tranquility of the moment. The night breeze rustled the leaves above them, a gentle reminder of the world beyond their secluded spot. For Minho and Chan, this brief respite from the demands of their careers was a precious gift—a chance to unwind, to share laughter and confessions under the starlit sky.

As the party's noise gradually seeped back into their awareness, they exchanged a knowing glance, both silently agreeing to cherish this memory. With a final clink of their glasses, they toasted to friendship, to music, and to the simple joy of finding peace beneath the stars.

-

After a tiring and long day at the company, Chan and Minho finally collapsed onto Chan's bed, the soft mattress providing a welcomed respite from their demanding schedules. They had stayed longer than the others, Chan meticulously fine-tuning tracks for their upcoming album and Minho patiently walking him through the new choreography after.

Chan couldn't help but notice Minho's restlessness as they settled in. The room was bathed in a gentle lilac hue, casting a serene glow that accentuated Minho's features. He looked almost ethereal in that light, but Chan sensed a tension in him that hadn't dissipated since earlier.

"You alright, Minho?" Chan asked softly, his concern evident as he propped himself up on one elbow to look at his friend.

Minho sighed, running a hand through his hair before meeting Chan's gaze. "Yeah, just... I don't know. Can't seem to relax tonight…Long day."

Chan nodded understandingly, his eyes scanning Minho's face with a mixture of affection and curiosity. "Ever wish someone could help you with that? Release some tension after a long day?"

Minho's breath caught slightly at Chan's question, his heart beating a little faster as he processed the implication behind those words. He searched Chan's eyes for a long moment, finding sincerity and a hint of something more—something he had quietly wondered about but never dared to voice.

"Yeah," Minho admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I do."

Chan's expression softened, a gentle smile playing on his lips as he remembered their conversation from a few nights ago—the one where Minho had confessed his clumsy attempt at doing just that. "Remember when you told me about trying with your fingers? Didn't quite like it?"

Minho blushed deeply, embarrassed that Chan remembered and seemed unfazed by his earlier awkwardness. "Yeah," he murmured, unable to meet Chan's gaze directly. “I took your advice but it doesn't feel as good as Felix and Jisung said it would.”

Chan chuckled softly, reaching out to gently tuck a strand of hair behind Minho's ear. "It's okay, Minho. You can tell me what you need. That's what I'm here for, yeah?”

Minho swallowed nervously, his heart racing as he leaned closer to Chan, their faces now only inches apart. "I... I need..." He hesitated, unsure if he could voice his desires aloud.

Chan's hand found Minho's, fingers intertwining in a silent gesture of reassurance. "You can trust me, Min. Whatever it is."

With a shaky breath, Minho closed the gap between them, pressing his lips tentatively against Chan's. The kiss was hesitant at first, a mixture of nerves and longing, but soon it deepened, fueled by months of unspoken attraction and the intimacy of their shared moments.

Chan responded eagerly, pulling Minho closer until their bodies were flush against each other. The room seemed to fade away, leaving only the soft sound of their breaths mingling and the gentle rustling of sheets beneath them.

As they broke apart for air, Chan brushed his thumb over Minho's cheek, his eyes filled with tenderness. "I've wanted this, Minho," he confessed softly. "More than I've let myself admit."

Minho smiled shyly, a weight lifted off his shoulders now that his feelings were out in the open. "Me too," he admitted, his voice filled with a mix of relief and joy.

“Can I take care of you?” Chan asked softly and Minho's breath hitched.

“Please,” he nodded gently, rolling onto his back and glancing up at Chan as he sat up. Minho watched him as he gently pushed his legs apart and got seated between them, gently rubbing up his thighs. 

“Want me show you how good it can feel?” he asked and Minho bit his lower lip, nodding quickly. Chan reached into the drawer of his bedside table and pulled out a bottle of lube. 

As Chan settled back between Minho's legs, he held up the bottle of lube with a reassuring smile. Minho's heart raced with anticipation, his body tingling in anticipation of Chan's touch. The soft lilac light cast a gentle glow over them, adding to the intimate atmosphere.

Chan leaned down to kiss Minho softly, their lips meeting in a tender exchange that conveyed both desire and tenderness. Breaking the kiss, Chan whispered against Minho's lips, "Relax, Min. I've got you." Minho hummed softly in response. “May I?” he asked gently, waiting for a nod before removing his pants and boxers.

Minho blushed softly at Chan's admiring expression, feeling a little exposed. “Channie,” he whined softly.

Chan giggled softly. “Ready, pretty?”

Minho nodded, his breath coming in shallow gasps as Chan squeezed a generous amount of lube onto his fingers. He gently trailed his fingertips down Minho's thighs, causing him to shiver at the sensation. Chan's touch was gentle and deliberate, each movement aimed at building trust and pleasure.

"Let me know if anything feels uncomfortable," Chan murmured, his voice a soothing presence in the quiet room.

Minho nodded again, his eyes locked on Chan's as he slowly began to circle his fingers around Minho's entrance. He applied light pressure, testing Minho's response before gradually easing a finger inside. Minho gasped at the initial intrusion, but Chan didn't move further until he felt Minho relax around him.

"That's it," Chan encouraged softly, his other hand stroking Minho's thigh in a comforting gesture. He continued to move his finger in and out slowly, allowing Minho to adjust to the sensation.

As Minho relaxed further, Chan added a second finger, stretching him carefully and watching closely for any signs of discomfort. Minho's breath hitched, but he didn't flinch away. Instead, he arched his back slightly, silently asking for more.

Minho was a little overwhelmed by how good it felt, panting softly at the feeling. A shaky moan escaped him and he quickly bit his lip, not wanting to fall apart right there during the first time someone touched him.

"You're doing great, Min," Chan praised, his voice filled with admiration and desire. He curled his fingers inside, searching for that spot that would make Minho gasp and moan.

The pleasure began to build, Minho's body responding eagerly to Chan's touch. Chan moved his fingers in a rhythm that was both tender and insistent, coaxing soft sounds of pleasure from Minho's lips. Each movement sent waves of pleasure through Minho's body, heightening his arousal with every stroke.

"Chan..." Minho whispered, his voice strained with need. He reached for Chan's hand, urging him to go deeper, to give him more.

Chan complied, adding a third finger carefully and gauging Minho's reaction. Minho tensed briefly, but as Chan massaged that sensitive spot inside him, pleasure quickly replaced any discomfort. Chan's fingers moved with practiced skill, pushing Minho closer to the edge of ecstasy. Minho's head fell back, jaw growing slack as Chan lovingly worked his prostate. “Oh shit,” he whispered.

Feeling Minho's body respond eagerly, Chan leaned down to kiss him again, their mouths melding in a desperate, passionate kiss. Minho whimpered into Chan's mouth, his hips lifting off the bed to meet Chan's movements.

"Channie hyung," Minho gasped when they finally parted for air, his voice raw with desire.

“I'm here,” Chan whispered gently. “What do you need, baby?”

Minho moaned softly. “Need more, please. Can you - I'm…I never did that before,” he admitted, ears burning up fiercely.

Chan soothingly rubbed his thigh. “Are you sure you want it to be me?” he asked gently, searching his eyes observantly. 

“Please,” Minho nodded, vulnerability lacing his features. “I trust you.”

Chan nodded, his own arousal evident as he reached for a condom and quickly prepared himself. He positioned himself between Minho's legs, gazing down at him with a mix of tenderness and hunger.

"You're sure?" Chan asked softly, seeking Minho's consent.

Minho nodded eagerly, his eyes locked with Chan's as he guided himself into Minho's heat. Chan took his time, making sure to give Minho enough room to adjust to the feeling. They both groaned at the sensation of being joined so intimately, their bodies moving together in a rhythm that spoke of longing and mutual need.

With each careful thrust, Chan focused on Minho's reactions, ensuring he moved at a pace that allowed Minho to adjust and enjoy every moment. Minho's soft moans and gasps filled the room, driving Chan further into a state of controlled desire. He kept one hand firmly planted beside Minho's head for support while the other stroked gently at Minho's cheek.

Minho's body responded eagerly, meeting Chan's movements with an increasing urgency that mirrored Chan's own rising desire. Their eyes locked in a silent conversation of trust and need, each moment deepening their connection beyond physical intimacy.

As Chan moved inside him, Minho's fingers clawed at Chan's back, his breath hitching with each deep thrust. Pleasure coiled tightly within him, building to a crescendo that threatened to overwhelm his senses. Chan's movements grew more insistent, driven by the raw need to bring Minho to the peak of ecstasy.

"Chan," Minho gasped, his voice a desperate plea mingled with pleasure.

Chan's heart swelled with affection and desire as he pressed his forehead against Minho's, their breaths mingling in a heated exchange. "I'm here, Minho," he murmured, his voice husky with longing. "Let go. I've got you."

With a final, deep thrust, Chan sent Minho spiraling into euphoria. Minho's body trembled beneath him as waves of pleasure washed over him, his moans filling the room with unrestrained ecstasy. Chan held him close, his own release imminent as he buried his face in Minho's neck, his breath hot against Minho's skin.

Moments later, they lay tangled together, their bodies slick with sweat, hearts racing in the aftermath of their shared passion. Chan pressed gentle kisses against Minho's temple, his touch reverent and tender.

"You okay?" Chan asked softly, his fingers tracing soothing patterns along Minho's back.

Minho nodded, a blissful smile spreading across his face. "More than okay," he whispered, his voice filled with contentment.

Chan smiled back, his heart overflowing with love and tenderness for the man in his arms. He gently withdrew from Minho, disposing of the condom, cleaning Minho up and then pulling him close again, cradling him against his chest. They lay together in the quiet of Chan's room, their breathing slowly synchronizing as they savored the intimacy of their shared moment.

"Thank you, Channie," Minho murmured after a while, breaking the peaceful silence. “For being so gentle and always looking out for me.”

Chan kissed the top of Minho's head, his voice a soft murmur against Minho's hair. "Always, Min. I'm always here for you."

They drifted off to sleep in each other's arms, the soft lilac light still casting a gentle glow over their entwined bodies. For Minho and Chan, this night marked not only a physical union but also a deeper understanding of their feelings and a bond strengthened by trust and love.

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[basuralindo]

Hey I'm dropping a crepe recipe because there's still people around who think they're hard to make and I'm sick of french food being romanticized to the point of inaccessibility.

I call this a 3-2-1 method to make it easy to remember; 3 eggs, 2 cups water/fluid of choice, 1 cup flour.

I'm sparing you the obligatory backstory on my path to cooking extremely flat pancakes because we both know that neither of us care. If you want to hear me overshare check my blog between 1-4am pacific time.

•Anyway, start with three eggs and beat with a fork until they're all one color (you can use a whisk or an egg beater but I hate the extra steps. Fork it):

•Add 1 cup flour:

•Add whatever dry flavoring you want (I usually go with cinnamon and cardamom, today we're doing matcha cause that happens to be what I'm cooking. Some mornings caffeine is meant to be eaten):

•Add sugar to taste if desired. It's not necessary for the recipe, and if you've managed to add enough to throw off the consistency you've got other shit to worry about, so follow your heart. I usually use like two tablespoons or so (I prefer brown, but white tastes better with matcha):

•Decide on your fluid of choice. Water and/or milk is the usual, but you can do literally whatever you want; hot cocoa, coffee, tea, soda -whatever you want them to taste like. Go nuts with it. Use soup if you want idgaf it's between you and your chosen god at this point. I recommend starting with 2 cups for simplicity, but you can add more if needed for the right consistency. At this point I just eyeball it tbh.

•Add a little at a time and start mixing until it's as smooth as you can get (this is also where you'd add wet flavorings, like vanilla extract):

•Add the rest until the batter is roughly the consistency of heavy whipping cream, or like thin tomato soup (if you actually ran with the soup joke, add a little water to thin it out). Just get it to where it's still a little viscous but will run if you pour it on the pan:

•For best results cover and let it sit in the fridge overnight or for a few hours (it will separate a little, just mix it again). For last minute "I forgot to prep this last night but I really want crepes" results, we're putting it aside while I wash dishes and heat up the pan.

•Ladle out like ¼ cups worth onto a hot lubricated pan (butter or cooking oil, medium heat) and swirl it until it coats the bottom. Don't stress if it looks like shit the first few times, that's what practice is for, add a little more fluid if it's not spreading well:

•cook until the top is no longer wet and edges start to lighten:

•Flip it with either a very flat spatula or sheer hubris (spatula recommended for beginners), and cook for like 45 seconds (I have no sense of time), then slide it onto a plate:

•Top with whatever you want and try whatever folds/rolls you saw in that one show that made you think these were cool.

Go forth, have fun, eat well.

(if you want an even easier method with only mild sacrifice to quality: mix a couple eggs and some extra fluid into your leftover pancake batter and leave it in the fridge for the next morning)

[billthedrake]

WINGMAN

I generally had a clean lifestyle, at least lately, but it was Mike Gelson's bachelor party, and we five dudes were partying it up in Nashville. I may have been doing my goody two-shoes Brendan Peters thing and getting club soda every few rounds, but my tolerance was down and I was getting good and truly wasted.

My best buddy James Carducci noticed, too. Like me, he was a big guy, a former tight end who carried a lot of muscle on his 6'5" frame, but unlike me he could hold his liquor.

"You gonna get laid tonight, Peters?" he growled in my ear as we entered the room we were sharing. "It's fun to see you let your hair down."

I gave him a scowl but knew he was just ribbing me. It's what buddies did. "Why can't we have the bachelor party in New York or something?"

Carducci knew what I meant. He plopped on one of the beds, his big frame taking up most of the double bed mattress. "Bro, you could have all the gay dudes around you and you'd still be too fuckin' picky."

I lay down on the other bed, looking over at my best friend. We'd both moved to the same city after graduation. Coming out had been a big messy process for me, and James had been the most supportive of my college friends. He was enthusiastically bisexual - not advertising it or anything, but we quickly realized we could switch from teammate-buddies to guy talk and back.

Still, we were opposites in a lot of ways. "Dude... it's easy for you. You just want to get your dick wet."

We'd had versions of this conversation before. He grinned. "Bro, maybe you should get your dick wet for a change. It'd keep you from being a cranky bitch." Yeah, Carducci could get away saying stuff to me no one else could. Then turning his meaty body on his side, he looked right at me. "I get it, Peters. But maybe while you wait for Mr. Right, you can have some fun. I mean, Kevin Murphy's not gonna suck your cock."

"What the fuck?!" I played dumb. Kevin had been the kicker on our D1 team and was Mike Gelson's best man. He was my type to a T... shorter than me and leaner, boy-next-door cute, tight body and a bubble ass.

James lay back again and put his arms around his back, arms knotted and pumped. If I was into big dudes like myself, there might be sexual tension between us. "Bro, it's all over your face. Remember, I know your fuckin' type."

"C'mon, JC," I pleaded, using my nickname for him.

He grinned. "Don't worry, Peters, I'm not gonna say anything to anyone. You know that. Crush out on Murphy all you want. You're just barking up the wrong tree."

"Yeah," I sighed. "It's majorly against the bro code." I was starting to get resentful of how being a horny gay dude and an ex-jock living by the bro code were not exactly compatible.

That got a deep laugh from JC. "So's fucking your buddy's dad."

I sat up, the alcohol and quick movement making my head dizzy. "What?!?!" Normally I'd write off the comment as Carducci being a jokester but the way his words came out made them seem real.

He now sat up and reached down to paw at his crotch to rearrange his junk. "This stays between us," he warned.

"Scouts honor, man," I replied.

My friend got a wild look on his face and a leer as he said, "I banged Gelson's dad."

"Mike Gelson," I clarified. "The fucking groom."

He seemed annoyed. "What other Gelsons do you know, dumbass? Yeah, Mike Gelson's father. It was a couple of years ago, when Mike invited a couple of us to his family's lake house." James was closer to Gelson than I was, which only made what he was describing seme more transgressive.

"Dude, isn't Mr. Gelson like 45?" I'd briefly met the man once but he didn't make too much an impression on me, I guess.

Carducci leered. "He was 50 then, and it was fucking glorious. A whole week, both of us enjoying sneaking around." I knew JC had a bit of a kink for married men. We didn't overshare, but I'd very occasionally hear about a hookup or, more often, I'd unload about a date that didn't go like I wanted.

I had to rib him now. "What, you going for the daddies now, JC?"

Without missing a beat, he looked at me with his brown eyes. "Abso-fucking-lutely, Peters. Exclusively even. You should try an older dude for a change."

I didn't think I was easily shocked but the turn of the conversation had indeed rattled me. I went silent before I said quietly, "Man, I couldn't date a guy my dad's age. What the fuck?"

He laughed. "Dude, who's talking about dating? You're a hot fucking dude, you should be having sex nonstop... " He paused. "Can I be honest, bro?"

I nodded, bracing myself for the barrage of criticism. But this was Carducci, I knew he was looking after me.

"Well," James started. "You always go for the unavailable ones like Murphy, or for the stuck up ones who think they're the shit for having an Insta following." For all of our odd-couple conversations, Carducci had never spelled it out for me quite like this. But he was totally right. "I dunno, maybe you should go outside your type just to see. There are so many daddies out there who'd be so fucking appreciative to make it with a guy like you.... You could use the ego boost, bro."

I thought it over. "Is that what older guys are to you?" I asked. "An ego boost?"

He shook his head. "Nah. I have a pretty massive ego already, bro, I don't need help with that. I just love sex with an older guy." I watched as he pulled a spare pillow down to cover his crotch. I knew why: Carducci was boning up talking about sex, and while we shared a lot there still was the bro code between us. "Some of em have a wild side, like a drunk sorority chick."

I shook my head. "Jesus, JC."

I knew the alcohol was getting us both to open up to this conversation. "It's not like that, Peters. I mean, you know you're with a dude, a real masculine dude at that. But there's that wild, naughty streak beneath the surface. I fucking love it."

He reached over and picked up his phone.

"What? Are you gonna show me a picture of one of your conquests?" I asked.

He looked up and winked. "Perv. No, bro, I'm lining up a blowjob. There's gotta be a horny daddy staying in this hotel."

I blushed. "You serious?"

"Sure, I'm serious," he said, now not taking his eyes off the app as he scrolled through. "Jesus you can be such a fucking prude."

I lay back, feeling insulted but mostly angry that he was right. I'd set up a Grindr profile and used it some but then swore it off over the last year. "Well, you're not bringing him back here," I said.

JC now looked up. "Like I said. Cranky bitch." There was teasing sure, but I think I'd actually pissed off my buddy. I almost apologized but I was stubborn.

Anyway, he was now getting off the bed and putting his shoes back on.

"Already?" I asked with astonishment. JC hadn't been on that app much longer than five minutes.

He laughed. "What can I say, bro?" He smiled. "Daddy wants this..." he used his hand to gesture to his tall muscular body. "I'm in Nashville, I'm gonna have a little fucking fun." He had his phone and key card and seemed good to go. "You should too, Peters. For real."

I didn't say anything but I gave a look that was my attempt at an "I'll think about it."

And like that, I watched my best friend leave our room.

***

The lamplight was still on when I woke up. I'd conked out in my drunkenness. I was massively hungover but I always wake up pretty quickly. Light was coming in and the clock said a little after 8.

Carducci's bed was still made and still empty. The fucker.

I got up and pissed and popped a couple of aspirin, hoping they'd help. My head pounded. And we still had another night of this fucking bachelor party weekend. I wondered if these dudes would want to come to mine when the time came. Hell, I wondered if I'd have one.

I brushed my teeth to get the stale beer taste out of my mouth. My hair was mussed up and I did my best to comb it down.

Fifteen minutes later, after a trip to the lobby to get some coffee, I was feeling more alive. Hungover still, but better. I didn't feel like eating anything, but the aspirin was helping.

I picked up my phone. I'd uninstalled Grindr but it was easy enough to re-install it. It took me a second to remember my login, but I used one of my common passwords. One of these days, I'd need to choose something more secure for my shit.

There were some hot guys in Nashville, but I'd gotten spoiled by the city I lived in now. There was a certain type I was seeing here - either bigger, beefier guys, or else younger thinner twinks. My type was always in between that. I wanted more Dierks Bentley and was seeing a lot more Garth Brooks types, even among the 20-somethings.

I'd been replaying my conversation with JC in my head. He could bust my balls, and maybe in a way I didn't like. But I told myself, I'd give this a try. I changed my profile language to make it less picky and judgmental and adjusted my looking-for age range.

It was early and I didn't see any hits in this hotel, but there was a good looking older guy in the hotel on the next block. Kind of average looking, balding hair, 49yo, but his pics showed off a very fit body, lightly hairy, probably trimmed. Looking for now. If I had to make it with an older dude, this was probably as good a match as any. I'd focus on his body if need be.

"Hey," I typed in a chat. "You're up early."

"Hi man." Then. "This is early?"

"In Nashville it is," I replied back.

"True, ha."

I was never great with the quick hookup thing, but one thing I'd mastered was the art of messaging. Some guys were too direct, not flirty enough, but some guys were too passive and conversational. My style didn't work with everyone, but it was working now, I knew.

"What brings you here?" I asked.

"Business. I thought I'd tack on an extra day for fun. And you?"

"Bachelor party."

"Of course, ha." Then, he added. "You're quite the hunk."

"Thanks man," I typed. "You're hot, too." I wasn't sure how much I thought that. It's not that he wasn't hot, because he was in a way. But in my fucked up way, I knew he wasn't Brendan Peters-worthy hot. Not in my league. But I tried to embrace the Carducci way. "You say you bottom, right?" His profile had read vers-bottom.

"Yep. You wanting to fuck?"

After my conversation with JC, I'd initially been thinking of a blowjob. Baby steps. Something to take the edge off. But now I realized it had been WAY too long since I'd fucked a guy. "God yeah. You able to host?"

"If you can give me fifteen minutes."

I pawed my crotch now. I was getting boned good. "Make it twenty?" I wanted to shower up.

"Sounds good, man."

***

The profile had sold the guy short. He didn't look hotter than his pictures but as he ushered me in, he had a deep sexy voice. Almost gravely, with a New York accent. He had a towel wrapped around his waist and I could see how dense his muscle was on a frame that was about 6 inches shorter than mine.

"Looks like I hit the jackpot, huh?" he smiled. Then as his eyes swept up to my face, he added, "Don't worry, I'm not gonna gush. You know you're smoking hot."

OK, maybe JC was right, I could get used to the ego pump. With a grin I stepped up to the guy and wrapped my arms around his naked torso, drawing him in.

"I wasn't sure..." he started to say in his deep voice befor I cut him off with a kiss.

He was a good kisser. This was a hookup, just a hookup, and our making out wasn't romantic, but I really enjoyed this part of sex, and this man knew how to respond to my groove. His hands felt up my chest as he did his best to match my tongue work.

Maybe it had been so long since I'd had sex, but the feel of his bare skin and hard back muscle under my fingers had me rock hard. This guy wasn't my type, but he was masculine and real and he wanted me. I pulled off his towel and broke the kiss so I could reach down and paw at his thick ass. It wasn't a young bubble ass, it wasn't Kevin Murphy's kicker's ass, but this man went to the gym regularly and had for years.

"Yess.." he hissed.

I kneaded his ass for a minute longer then stepped back, in full ready to fuck mode. As I reached down and started undoing my shorts and kicking off my shoes, my trick looked at me with horny anticipation, his daddy dick hard and leaking, a solid six-incher that stood out from his trimmed but hairy crotch.

"I guess we didn't talk about specifics," he said, stepping back to the bed. "You a missionary or doggy position kind of guy?"

God, this was 180 degrees from my normal Grindr experience. I always met freaks who'd get real porny and weird, or I met guys who were bossy about their needs. This man had a fun laid-back vibe, even as we were getting to brass tacks.

Usually my answer would be missionary. "Doggy," I leered, letting my thick long cock fall out as I pushed my underwear down.

"Fuck," the daddy hissed. "You didn't exaggerate the measurements. Take it a little easy at first, then I'm good to go." I watched as he got onto the bed, on all fours. It was clearly the body of a man in his late 40s, but I was going to enjoy it all the same.

I got up on after him, letting the mattress sink with my weight. I'd hit almost 240 in college ball, and while I'd leaned down a little since then, I still was 230 pounds of tall muscle.

I remember one time I'd started eating out some model looking guy I'd hooked up with and he about freaked out, telling me he wasn't into getting rim. But as I kissed along this man's lightly furred ass cheeks, one side then the other, he spread his legs in an unmistakeable green light. I dove in and licked.

Fuck, this daddy loved it. I thought about what JC said. Masculine dudes with that drunk sorority chick worthy wild streak. He was some regular guy on business, and he was enjoying me eating him out and munching wildly at his clean pucker.

"Holy fuck, dude!" he growled, the deep voice making his words seem more sexual. "Eat my fucking hole."

I did. I wasn't even expecting an extended rim session for this. I almost thought it would be a pump and go, but I now rode the experience, gripping his cheeks, pulling them apart and tongue fucking this man who indeed was old enough to be my father.

I could have kept at it, too, but I needed to fuck. I leaned up, wiped off the spit from my chin and reached down to wet my cock.

"There's lube and condoms," he said, nodding to the night stand. "I'm on PREP so do what you want, man." Again, that deep voice had my balls twitching.

I slathered on some lube and lined up my bare prick. Daddy was gonna get raw dogged. I gave a two-mississippi pause then pushed to enter him.

There was some snugness at the ring but otherwise no real resistance. I popped in, making the man grunt a little, but he braced his upper body, took a deep breath, then nodded. I pushed my way all the way in, deep into his hot tightness. I forgot how amazing a good fuck felt. Bottoming out, I gripped his waist and began a slow pump.

"Jesus, you're a big boy," he grunted, excitement in his voice.

"6-four," I teased, now fucking him with firmer strokes.

"I meant your cock," the daddy said.

"I know," I hissed. "You're taking that big dick."

"Christ, man," he replied. "Fuck me! Fuck me big guy!"

I did. Getting more and more into it. I was enjoying this position of holding his waist and using that leverage to pull his leaner muscular build onto my hard pistoning cock as much as I was pushing into him. But as I got more excited and more into the mounting pleasure, I felt a need for something more animalistic. Leaning forward, I covered his back with my muscular chest and torso and just started hammering him with hard short strokes.

"Oh fuck oh fuck," he hissed. Loving it, but feeling the challenge of taking me that way, given my strength.

It wouldn't take long though. I now supported my weight with one arm while the other one wrapped around him, pulling his hard body next to mine for maximum contact and steady penetration.

He too was braced on one hand now while the jerked off to my inward strokes.

He came a second before me, but it was a photo finish. I let out a deep heavy growl and enjoyed the most amazing orgasm I'd had in a LONG time.

He finally withdrew his hand and let my weight push him down into a flat lying position.

"Am I too heavy?" I asked as I kissed his neck softly. I didn't want to pull out just yet, the aftershocks felt pretty amazing.

"I'm good," came that deep voice. "I like it, actually."

I kissed him more, along his neck. It's a weird thing of mine. Some guys lose interest after getting their nut, but I get in a real romantic headspace after cumming. It's freaked some men out.

Daddy picked up on it. "I thought you'd be a fuck and go kind of guy," he said with a soft laugh.

"Sorry," I said, pushing myself up off him some.

"Don't apologize, it's nice."

I ran my hand along the man's arm. Strong, not as big as mine, but there's something about an older man that meant more seasoned muscle. "I know this is just a hookup," I said. "I just like talking with a guy I have sex with. I'm weird, I guess."

He got quiet, but his reply felt calm and measured. "We can grab brunch if you like. I can learn more about the guy who just gave me the fuck of my life."

"Yeah," I said.

Now as we uncoupled and rinsed off in the bathroom before getting dressed again, I was having second doubts, and maybe I was leading him on too much. I absolutely didn't want anything serious with this guy. After today, I'd probably half forget him. This was just my hormones talking.

He seemed to read me. "You OK, man?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

He gave me an empathetic look. "Don't worry, I know I'm just a piece of tail to you. But I'm starving... why don't we get a bite and then you can get back to your bachelor party duties?"

I smiled. "Sounds good," I said. I stepped up and kissed him, softly. Wrapping my arms around his waist and enjoying the height difference.

"My name's Curt," he said.

"Brendan," I said.

[eightstarr]

✨Hello :D!! First of all love your writing so freaking much ahhhhh!!!! So I have a request for doc bbg Abs based on something that happened to me 😭💀. The other day I was washing dishes and long story short I got a pretty deep cut on two of my fingers I was bleeding lots and was scared to go to the doc but still ended up going and had to get stitches :,( so maybe could you write something along the lines of having to go to the hospital where Abs works at but maybe she’s in surgery or something and you also don’t tell her you’re there but later once you’re home she finds out you were there getting stitches and she’s mad you didn’t let her know but then like she comforts you and shit. Thank you bb!! This week has been a shitty one and sorry for oversharing lol. Also I got bit by a cat but that’s another story. ANYWAY!! Love you, you amazing human being. Espero que tu día, semana y año te vayan de maravilla ✨🫶🏼💞

baby i hope your fingers are feeling better, that sounds so scary!! i'm sorry you had a bad week and i don't think you overshared at all, pls don't worry about that! i hope you like this y espero que el resto de tu año sea muy bonito <33

୨・┈﹕✦﹕﹕✦﹕┈・୧

[suhkusa]

The cool air is the first thing that greets you as you walk outside. Everyone decides to hangout outside before the 11PM curfew. 

There are so many familiar faces, but at this moment you still feel alone. Some of the other managers greet you as you make your way to a lawn chair that’s set by a tree. 

Your manager friends were already mid conversation with some volleyball players when you walked outside, so you felt uncomfortable just joining in. Atsumu is also surrounded by players you’ve never met before. Plus, it was you who decided to come on this trip. He’s not responsible for you. Everyone else you just don’t know that well.

You’re shocked out of your thoughts as you become self conscious of how really alone you were, how alone you looked. On instinct, you take out your phone and begin scrolling through each app, attempting to make yourself look busy.

Asu? No, honestly things have felt a bit tense, and you don’t want to keep bothering your online friend with your troubles. Your friends? Also no, for the same reason. 

Plus, the way you were feeling was stupid, was it not? You feel so alone, yet no one is stopping you from interacting with any of these people. You have only yourself to blame. 

“What’re you doing over here?” Yet, he seems to always be there when you needed it the most. Scarily enough. 

You look up from your phone, letting a smile make its way onto your face, “Nothing, I’m just tired. Didn’t want to get FOMO though,” 

Sakusa puts another lawn chair down beside you. “I suppose,”

“They snuck in some drinks if you wanted to take shots with them,” he adds.

You let out a breathy laugh, “I’m not an alcoholic, y’know? Thanks for letting me know, though,” you finally turn off your phone and slip it into your back pocket. “To be honest, I have a headache,”

A concern looks washed over his face, “Was it because of the energy drink?”

“Oh, so that was you?” your words catch him off guard, he hesitates to say something and you laugh again, “Don’t worry, I don’t think it was that. I think it helped me stay awake this long,”

Sakusa sighs with relief, “That’s good,”

“I don’t think you’ll miss out on much if you go sleep now,” he adds, “You should catch up on the rest you didn’t get last night,”

“Ah, maybe,” your hands are fidgeting, picking at the skins near your nail bed.

“Are you alright?”

You freeze, not sure what to say. But the words unexpectedly find you and you spill.

“To be honest, I'm just overwhelmed. My anxiety has been through the roof, but I stopped my meds a long time ago. There’s been so much on my mind,”

Sakusa says nothing but nods at your words. The silence freaks you out a bit, so you keep talking.

“I feel like I have to always be happy, it’s what everyone expects of me. And I am, but sometimes I get tired. And I don’t want people to see that I’m tired,” you know you’re oversharing, and it’s random, but you can’t stop yourself, “I hate when people worry about me so it’s always easier for me to push it all down. I don’t know why recently it’s gotten harder,”

“I suppose I relate in some sense. But either way, don’t be scared to reach out, you have a lot of friends don’t you? They all care for you– from what I see, at least,” he fumbles his words a bit before continuing, “I know we’re not friends, but I’m also here if you ever need to talk,”

A small smile teases the side of your mouth, “Whaat? We’re not friends? I thought I said we were though,” you tease.

“Oh, well I mean, yeah, then,” 

You didn’t expect him to play along, to be honest. His words fluster you, and you can feel your cheeks warm. 

The cold air clashes with the warmth of your skin, it feels nice. 

“Did talking to me help at all?” Sakusa asks, and you realize this is the first time you’ve met eyes with him this whole night. 

You offer a small smile before nodding.

“I’m glad,” and for a split second you can make out a small smile on his face in the dark night. 

“I’m going to head in now, want to come with?”

Snapping out of your thoughts, you quickly nod and join him in folding the chairs. The two of you make your way into the dimly lit hallway before bidding each other soft goodnight. 

It was safe to say that you would be getting a good night’s rest. 

SECRET ALLIANCE — SPOILER WARNING

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NOTES.

y/n laid in bed for another 30 minutes as the caffeine ran it's course

last day of camp next :3

© all writings belongs to suhkusa 2024. do not repost or change.

[fuji09]

I've seen a lot of people call Stiles an asshole and yeah he can be. I've seen people say he doesn't care about anyone unless it's the few in his friend group. I don't think that's the case. I've seen him called a bad friend and while he does have moments of not being a good friend, for the most part he is the best friend.

Stiles has a lot of trauma responses but right now I'm gonna talk about how he keeps everyone at arms length. He isn't trying to be an ass (at least not all the time), it's not that he doesn't give a shit about anyone, and it's not that he is a asshole but he acts like an asshole.

When some of us lose someone we love in a traumatic way, we don't want to feel that pain ever again. We hurt and can't handle the thought of feeling this type of pain again. I'm guilty of this.

So what does Stiles do? He keeps everyone at arms length, never lets someone completely in. Not Scott his best friend and not even his own dad. He distances himself as best as he can without seeming like that's what he's doing. He overshares and talks about anything and everything without getting too personal but no one notices because what he does say is loud.

He's sarcastic and jokes about everything. He insults and treats people like they are stupid. Does he mean it? Not always, probably sometimes. He tends to be all talk, unless it's something incredibly important. He will say every man for himself but he never means it. He acts like people are disposable but he doesn't mean it.

That boy is afraid to get too close to anyone so he hides parts of himself from everyone, even his own dad. He's paranoid about his dad dying but he still doesn't let his dad in completely.

He can seem cold, but he has a warm heart, he can be blunt, but he also knows that sometimes he can't be. He does make mistakes, we all do. Stiles does his hardest to prevent people from worrying about himself, while he worries about his friends.

Not everything he says or does is logical. Trauma responses aren't logical but they sure seem like they are.

But yeah those are my thoughts on Stiles and his trauma response.