#which that in itself is mind boggling to me

[gaylornation]

what's actually bonkers to me is that I found out they had broken up for the final time literally the day before Lover dropped and I couldn't say shit... now here we are almost 4 years later and Karlie showed up to her show. like my mind has not fully comprehended it yet lol

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

having a lot of thoughts about how people use 'normalize' when they mean 'destigmatize' or 'make the nature of into common knowledge,' and how they conflate 'the perception of this thing as normal' with the thing actually being a normal occurrence, and how it is in fact incredibly harmful to try to convince people that an ideal situation is normal when that does not map onto their lived reality or the dangers they need to be aware of to avoid. it is 3:33am though so writing up an actual poast about it will have to wait for later

[arolesbianism]

Guys why is rain world so good (<- rewatched some scenes and teared up on all of them)

[samkerrworshipper]

sugar baby | alexia putellas x reader

a big big big thank you to @codiemarin because this fic would not exist without her suggestions and ideas!!! also back from my hiatus (maybe) hope yall enjoy!

warnings: smut 18+ minors dni

This had become normal for you.

Every second night, instead of lying in the comfort of your own sheets or servicing clients in the club you used to work at, you were standing in the kitchen of your newest employer, plating up the takeout that had been chosen for tonight.

Sunday nights were take out nights, because it was typically Alexia’s game night, which meant she was starving by the time she was home and looking for a quick eat. Majority of the time, she was riding on an adrenaline high, which meant one thing, you were in for it.

Sunday’s had very quickly become your favourite night of the week for this reason, Sunday night had expectations, ones that Alexia was extremely specific about.

You were to have dinner done by the time she was home, you were to be wearing whatever lingerie she’d most recently bought for you, the shortest skirt in your wardrobe and your cunt and ass stuffed with the vibrator and butt plug that Alexia required you to wear in preparation before she got home.

Normally, being stuffed exhilarates you, it’s your favourite way to spend your afternoons in Alexia’s apartment, as you aimlessly clean and spend time on Alexia’s balcony reading in the Barcelona sun. Normally, she edges you for hours before she returns home, controlling the vibrator stuffed in your pussy with the app on her phone. Today though, she’s left you stuffed but with no stimulation. It’s equally exhilarating knowing that Alexia is giving you a bit of a break, knowing that it means she’s going to destroy you as soon as she walks through the door.

Alexia after a game is always your favourite version of Alexia, it’s like all of the control issues, the built up adrenaline and exhaustion somehow mix into a perfectly horny Alexia who always managed to make you feel good in all of the worst ways.

You swore that you didn’t hear the door open or Alexia’s footsteps making their way through her apartment, slowly approaching you, too focused on plating up the food and making it look less like it had been crammed into a plastic container and more like it was a home cooked meal. Chances were Alexia couldn’t care less, as long as everything was clean and put away by the time she got home and the food was good then none of it really mattered.

She snuck up on you, her hand gently placing itself on the back of your neck. You did your best not to scream in surprise, instead squealing as quietly as possible at the warm hand that was now pressed firmly against your mostly bare thigh.

Ale’s breath is also equally as warm against your neck, you can tell just by her grip and firmness that it’s been a tough game, a bad day for her standards.

You never check the scores on her matches for this exact reason, it meant that there was always some element of surprise as to how Alexia’s mood was going to be when she arrived home, if it was a good game, an easy game, then she tended to be a bit more mellowed out, floaty and happy on the adrenaline high she was coming off of, bad games however could result in many different versions of Alexia.

“Hola.”

Your voice is croaky, the sudden pressure on the nape of your neck making it harder to enunciate.

“Hola.”

Alexia’s voice is short and scrapy, like she’s been yelling for hours upon hours, which you suppose could be the case.

“Dinner is on the table, from Clarice’s.”

It’s a boutiquey mediterranean place that Alexia loves.

For you, it’s mind boggling that she’s willing to spend such an insane amount of money on food that is only half decent, you suppose, though when you have exorbitant amounts of money you might as well spend it.

“You’re eating with me.”

Alexia doesn’t wait for you to take in her words, she grabs onto the hair at the base of your neck and pulls you towards the dining table, dragging you with her.

You don’t normally eat with Alexia, preferring to talk with her after her games or prepare yourself how she wished for whatever the rest of the night was going to entail, tonight though she seemed to have other plans.

Instead of guiding you into one of the seats at the table like you’d expected though, Alexia took her own seat, before dragging you down to your knees below her.

The floor was hard on your bare knees, not that you actually minded.

Alexia kept her hand in your hair, locked down on a clump of roots at the lowest point of your hairline where your neck and hair met.

She didn’t have to say much, her spare hand tugging at the waistband of her shorts was enough of an indication of exactly what she was expecting you to eat.

Your hands replaced Alexia’s, nails digging into the elastic of her shorts and tugging them down her ass and thighs. You didn’t take your time, not when Alexia was clearly so worked up, you dragged them off of her until they were still pooled at her ankles.

Next you moved onto her panties, taking them off with the same intention as her shorts.

You didn’t waste any time staring at the clear wet patch on Alexia’s panties, or the scuffs and scratches up and down her knees and thighs that told you the game had been rougher than she was letting on.

Her knee was cold, you realised that when your shoulder brushed up against it, like she’d had an ice pack pressed to it until she’d walked into the apartment.

Once her panties were off, you took a second to admire her, spread out directly in front of you.

It was one of your favourite sights, quite possibly your number one.

You started at Alexia’s knee, pressing warm sloppy kisses to the skin on the inside, slowly making your way up to where she wanted you most.

Were you purposely teasing her?

maybe.

It didn’t take long, a couple of wet, rough kisses along the sensitive skin of her inner thigh managing to be enough to earn you a harsh pull of your hair, jerking your head backwards so you were looking up at Alexia.

She has a fork in her hand, clearly enjoying her meal.

“Don’t test me, keep teasing me and you won’t like the consequences.”

Alexia’s voice is definite, if you disobey her then she’s going to punish you, it’s a clear outline of her expectations.

Normally, you’d put yourself right in the middle on the scale of brattiness and submission, maybe teetering a little bit further towards the bratty side.

You knew where to toe the line though.

Praise was something you craved, you didn’t necessarily like to be constantly in trouble, you liked to please people and the easiest way to do that was to obey.

So without much fuss, you gently pulled your head from Alexia’s grip, moving past her thighs and with slight hesitation giving her exactly what she wanted.

You started with one thick, broad stroke, directly through her heat.

She was soaked, like she’d been anticipating this her whole way home, which sent a shiver down your spine.

Alexia pushed you where she wanted, up to her clit, you got the message and started to suck, hard.

It was exactly how Alexia liked it, your teeth grazing her most sensitive place every so often, her hips jerking so slightly when you did.

You weren’t all that surprised when her hand reached from your hair to the place inbetween your shoulders, tapping until you correct your posture.

It was random things like that Alexia was a complete freak over, posture, cleanliness, little stupid things that you couldn’t have cared less about.

Yet for some reason, you found yourself adjusting to how Alexia wanted you, even if it meant your head was that much closer to hitting the bottom of the table and your back was now cramping. It was worth it if it meant that Alexia was more at ease and you could avoid punishment.

Alexia wasn’t a loud lover, on a good day the best you could get out of her was a groan or if it was a really good day then a moan, it wasn’t any surprise to you though if you couldn’t get anything out of her.

Alexia stayed silent, apart from the noises of her slowly making her way through the food you’d plated up for her.

You had become a master of Alexia’s body, it was necessary considering she was so quiet, you knew her tell tale signs and exactly when she was close and how to get her there.

It didn’t take long, it never really did after a game.

You were no scientist or professional as far as women's health went, but you assumed it had something to do with all of the hormones and energy that was built up, it put a person closer to the edge.

You weren’t surprised when Alexia’s thighs slowly began to tighten on either side of your head and her grip on your hair became so tight that you struggled to move against her.

Everything in Alexia’s body tensed up, she went rigid and then finally, without any show at all, she relaxed, her clit throbbing underneath your mouth and thighs relaxing on either side of your head.

As soon as she’d come you moved your mouth down from her clit, cautious of over stimulating her too early and instead moving down to her opening and cleaning up the mess that you’d made.

It might have just been the best dinner you’d ever had.

You keep your mouth on her, not wanting to displease her in any way.

As she’s finishing her food and you lazily kiss and lick her pussy you become progressively more aware of the pooling wet heat that has begun to settle into your panties and is slowly beginning to leak out across your thighs, you feel so full and yet so empty, craving to feel more than the motionless toys that you’ve been stuffed with for hours.

Almost as soon as Alexia is setting her fork down on her plate she’s pushing your head away from her, pushing you back until your ass is sitting on top of the backs of your heels.

“Clean up, I’ll be waiting in the bedroom.”

Before you can nod your head Alexia is already standing, walking off towards her bedroom and leaving you on your knees in front of the chair she’d previously occupied.

With sore knees and arousal dripping all over your face you stood up, collecting Alexia’s empty plate and walking unsteadily towards the sink and washing it off before stacking it into the dishwasher. You do the same with her cutlery before closing the dishwasher and putting away any other mess you’d made and making sure the kitchen was as you’d found it, if Alexia found anything out of place in the morning you knew she’d punish you for it, so you took time making sure every meticulous detail was correct.

Alexia kept her home as she kept herself, organised to an obsessive point, everything had a specific space or place that it had to occupy. She had a dish for the tv remote, an alphabetically sorted spice rack, every painting, picture and frame had to be centred and her wardrobe was sorted into so many different categories that you struggled to comprehend how a person could put together an outfit everyday without having an aneurysm.

Alexia loved it though, and for whatever reason she expected you to uphold her level of cleanliness.

Once you were certain that the room was exactly how Alexia liked it, you began walking towards Alexia’s bedroom, your favourite room in her apartment.

The door was half open, giving you a glance into the space before you stepped foot into the doorway.

The lights were dimmed and whilst you couldn’t see Alexia, you could see the items she’d left out on top of the bed spread and it had you quaking from the inside to out.

The anticipation of actually getting to see Alexia is enough to get you through the door, slowly pushing the door open and allowing yourself to step foot in the room.

It didn’t take long for you to find Alexia, she was standing in the doorway of her wardrobe, hands on her hips and leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination.

She was stark naked, excluding the strap that was hanging from the space in between her legs.

The red dildo was one that you’d never seen before, and for that you were glad.

It looked far larger than anything you’d ever taken with Alexia, there were veins up and down the length of it and the girth alone was intimidating, the length though, the length was enough to make your eyes pop out of your skull.

Alexia looked as smug as ever, the cocky grin on her face and the way that her muscles bulged out just above the strap. Alexia’s got a good body, she knows it, everybody on earth who has a functioning brain knows it. It’s one of your guilty secrets that you get it all to yourself, that you get to see parts of her body that nobody else gets to. You’ve seen thousands of women, super models, athletes, people from all walks of life but you’re fairly certain that nobody would ever come close to Alexia Putellas.

It wasn’t just her body either, it was her demeanour, her aura, everything about her was attractive to you. She was a good person, but she was also a good fuck, the best sex you’d had in your life was with Alexia and you’d worked in a sex club for years. You can’t be taught experience or confidence, it’s something that you have or you don’t and Alexia was the best. You supposed she liked to be the best at everything, the best at football, the best at life, the best at sex. Her strive for perfection in all walks of life never deterred.

“Alexia.”

Alexia pouted at you, her hands anchored at her hips, giving you a full view of her full breasts and her rock hard nipples.

“That’s not what you call me.”

You bit down on your lip, the stickiness between your thighs only getting stickier.

“Daddy.”

Alexia’s smirk broadened, her teeth biting down into her lip.

“Yes baby?”

You felt your pussy quiver, your cheeks reddening.

“It’s to big.”

Alexia’s smirk faded in a matter of seconds, the blonde starting to take steps towards you.

“I don’t like that attitude baby girl, you’ll take what I give you unless you want to make me mad, and I don’t think you want that, hm?”

The condescending voice, the way her eyes looked down at you, the saunter in her steps. If you hadn’t already soaked your thong then it was now.

“Daddy, it’s huge.”

Alexia nodded, like you were telling her what day it was instead of talking about the appendage that was attached to her hips.

“Wanna say that again? Wanna make me mad? Wanna put me in an even worse mood than that game did, because I recall that your one job is to do the exact opposite.”

She’s right, you were quite literally employed by her as a means for her to manage her stress. It had started at the club you’d worked at, Alexia spending half of her week in the shitty mildewy basement of a run down sex club in Barcelona just to enjoy your company. Eventually she was spending more time paying for your time at the club than at her own home and that was when she made the decision to give you a proposition, one you’d accepted happily.

“No daddy.”

Alexia nods her head, taking the final step to bridge the gap between the two of you.

“That’s what I thought princesa, now how about you lie back on the bed for me, you know how I like you.”

You didn’t hesitate, brushing past Alexia and straight to her bed, climbing on top of the covers as gracefully as you could manage, trying to give Alexia a show as you crawled your way to the top of the bed. Once you made it to the pillows you flipped onto your back, opening your legs for Alexia and keeping still as she liked you.

Alexia peered down at you, admiring the clear wet patch that was embedded in your thong. It was a sight that she was equally as grateful for every time she got to see it, the evidence that you were just as needy and worked up as she was, that you were equally as desperate for her as she was for you.

“So wet princesa, is that all for me? Does your perfect little pretty cunt get worked up at the thought of me?”

She knows the answer, she only asks you to try and get a kick out of you, to rile you up and try and get you to brat back at her, you know her tricks and you know that it’s best to answer her with some kind of submissive variation.

“Yes daddy.”

Alexia moves her way around to the side of the bed, leaning over to reach for your chin, her index finger pointing it up so you’re looking at her eye-to-eye.

“You’ve been good today? Doing as I asked and not touching what belongs to me?”

You shake your head obediently, you’ve learnt from experience that disobeying Alexia is the worst possible thing you could do, for starters the woman always seems to find the truth anyways and she’s more creative than most with her punishment tactics.

“Yes daddy, I’m always good for you.”

Alexia smirks big and wide, her grip on your chin tightening.

“I’ll be the decider of that. What colour are you princesa?”

You take a big deep breath before answering Alexia, composing yourself to give her a proper answer.

“Green, daddy.”

Alexia nods, her fingers staying on your chin with a grip that you couldn’t even try to escape.

“How are you feeling about being tied up baby?”

You thought about the question for a few seconds.

“Fine, I’m green daddy, I’ll let you know if I don’t like anything.”

Alexia smiles, softer, less aggressively domineering.

“That’s what I like to hear, what are your rules?”

You almost roll your eyes, almost.

Alexia’s made you memorise them, you know them like you know the colour of your eyes and the surface of your palm.

“I know my rules daddy.”

Alexia’s soft smile reverts to the harsh line, the same one you’d been met with when she’d found you in the kitchen.

“I didn’t ask if you knew them, I asked you to tell me them. Don’t make me have to punish you when you’ve been so well behaved so far, what are your rules, slut?”

Alexia’s grip turns into a bruising hold, her finger tips digging into the skin of your chin bone.

“No touching myself without permission. No talking without permission unless I’m spoken to. No cumming without permission. Use my safewords if I want to stop at any time. No moving unless you tell me too. If you tell me to do something, do it.”

Alexia nods, climbing onto the bed beside you and hovering her face just inches above yours.

“There’s my good girl, you can be good if you want to, huh?”

Once again, you do your very best to shrug off the condescension in Alexia’s words, smiling at her and simply nodding your head.

“Yes daddy.”

Alexia leans down, pulling your bottom lip with her teeth before your lips even begin to meet hers. Everything about the kiss is as controlled as Alexia, she goes at her own pace, deepening it when and however she likes, eventually pushing her tongue into your mouth.

It’s slower than you’d like, and with both of your holes still stuffed but unstimulated it’s ten times harder to endure, but you assume that’s Alexia’s doing, she’s trying to get you as riled up as possible, although you are unsure of her endgame.

“You look so pretty with my cum all over your face baby, I taste divine if I do say so myself.”

Alexia’s fingers begin to trail down your body, over the top of the lace that your breasts are confined to and straight down to the waistband of your panties, gently brushing over your hips before her hand dipped below the wet lace and swiped through your heat two times, collecting as much arousal as she could without touching any of the places that you were yearning for her the most.

Alexia’s hands are gone almost as quickly as they arrived, her hand creating a gap in between the kiss. Her fingers replace your lips, her index and middle finger being pushed into her mouth.

The way that Alexia sucks, nips and licks at her fingers is simply mesmerising, you're in a trance watching her.

“Such a fucking filthy slut, all wet from getting daddy off, huh? You taste magnificent, baby.”

The mixture of praise and degrading has your head spinning in circles, all of the different words mixing inside your head, sending you into that perfect headspace that Alexia always managed to drift you into.

“Open.”

Alexia’s fingers, now wet with her slobber, tapped at your chin and without any hesitation whatsoever you opened your mouth, sticking your tongue out.

Within seconds, Alexia was spitting into your mouth, directly onto your waiting tongue.

“Swallow.”

You obey her once again, swallowing the spit on your tongue, faintly tasting your own arousal mixed in.

“How do you taste, baby?”

You focus on swallowing properly before answering Alexia.

“Horny, daddy.”

Alexia rolls her eyes before landing a sharp but playful slap to the inside of your thigh, plastering it with more wetness.

“Behave and maybe I’ll do something about it.”

Alexia’s lips don’t return to yours, instead they hover just far enough out of reach that you can’t connect yours with hers.

Alexia lifts herself up and off the mattress, walking over to the pile of different toys she’s left out on the bench at the foot of the bed and picking out a set of silk ties.

She walks back over to you, reaching for your wrists and knotting the silk around them before reaching up to the posts on each side of your bed and securing your wrists to them. Once she’s done she nods at you to check them, you move your wrists accordingly, testing her bonds.

They’re tight and methodically done, immobilising you how Alexia wishes, but they’re also loose enough that if you really tried you’d be able to escape them without much effort.

Once Alexia’s satisfied with her knotwork she walks back over to her pile, picking out a few items that she keeps hidden from you.

Alexia crawls her way back up the mattress, stop halfway up your body and opting to pull the sticky panties off of you, she peels them off of you, slowly tugging them down your hips until they’re sitting at your ankles. Alexia trails her fingers back up a long your legs, tracing little white lines across your skin with her nails as they made their way back up to the space that your panties had previously covered.

Alexia didn’t touch anything, instead she gently began to tug at the vibrator nestled deep inside of you, it’s lying painfully motionless inside of you and whilst you were more than happy to be filled up with something, it’s almost a relief having it removed.

“Such a good girl staying stretched out for daddy, hmm?”

You nod your head at Alexia, trying your hardest to keep your composure as she gently traces the tissue around your hole, never dipping inside though.

“Such a pretty little pussy, so perfect for daddy to stretch out and play with.”

You suck in a deep breath as Alexia’s hand comes down in a firm but quick slap, the pain flashing across your most sensitive areas.

Your back arches, a few months ago you would have been embarrassed that your body was seeking out that kind of contact but with Alexia that all changed, how could you feel embarrassed when she looked and talked about your body like it was created by God himself.

Her hand comes down again, this time more targeted towards your clit, it takes everything you have to turn the scream that was ready in your chest into a groan.

“Be as loud as you want, princesa, it’s not going to make me stop and it’s not going to make your body dislike what I’m doing to you.”

Alexia’s hand comes down again, the squelchy slap ringing out across the room, this time it’s more targeted directly at your stretched out hole. This time you let out something that sounds more like a ringed out scream, your vocal cords unable to truly suppress the extreme amounts of pain and pleasure that are being sent through the nerve receptors across your cunt.

Another two slaps fall in quick succession and by the end of both of them you’re groaning and moaning as much as your lungs will allow, hips chasing any contact you can possibly get or find.

“Such a little pain slut aren’t you, desperate for any kind of contact daddy will give you, you take it so well princesa.”

Alexia places gentle kisses across your hips and thighs, it’s nice, but it’s nowhere near what you want from her.

“Ale, please.”

Alexia’s lips move from your skin almost immediately, her head jerking up to look at you, her brows knitted in annoyance.

“It’s daddy to you, slut. The only noises I want to hear coming from your mouth are the sweet little sounds that you make when I’m touching you, understood?”

You nod your head, well aware that too much disobedience will earn you a very sore ass and no relief for the night.

Alexia reaches down to her pile at the end of the bed, picking up something that you don’t get a look at.

You find out quick enough, when you hear the whirring of a vibrator and seconds later it’s pressed directly against your sore and puffy clit.

Your body thrashes in reply almost immediately, it’s a painful overstimulation that your body was most definitely not ready for.

Your back arches and thighs clench, even though it’s clear that there is no escaping the forced contact, Alexia’s hand stays steady, pressing the vibrator down hard against your bud. Eventually, the vision blurring pain begins to subside, and your sent into the most unpleasurable slow lead up to your orgasm.

You were close nonetheless, and frighteningly aware that the chances of Alexia giving you an orgasm right now were slim and even if she did it was going to be possibly the least pleasurable one she could give you.

You didn’t need to wait long to find out, Alexia sensing your impending orgasm pulled away, giving you a chance to take a deep breath, a mere second.

A second long reprieve was all you got before she laid down another two quick slaps against your clit.

You screamed. As loud as your vocal cords would allow, you screamed. If the overstimulation before had been too much then now it was completely incomprehensible. There was an accumulation of sweat on your forehead similar to the pool of wetness accumulated between your thighs.

Alexia gave you another second to breathe, before the vibrator was pressed straight back against your clit, making you scream once again, your vision full of white as your body shook from the pure pain you were going through.

Alexia wasn’t wrong when she called you a pain slut, it was why she’d frequented you so much at the club, it was why she paid you so much for your company. Not a lot of people could take the amount of pain you were willing to, and still find it pleasurable, yet you loved every single second of it, or you loved the result that always came after taking some pain.

Alexia always made it worth your while, and she knew where your limit was.

“So perfect bebita, taking what I’m giving you, you’re so wet princesa.”

Alexia’s finger trailed down to your hole, briefly dipping inside and collecting some of the wetness. She smeared it across the flat part of your stomach, leaving a long trail of your arousal against your stomach.

“Can you feel that princesa? My little pain slut, hmm? Getting all soaked over me abusing your cunt. How’s it feel?”

It’s hard to talk and articulate what you’re feeling considering how much your body is being affected by the painful overstimulation Alexia is putting you through.

“Good daddy, so fucking good.”

Alexia smirks, silently proud of herself and silently just as proud of you.

“Mm, you reckon you can take another two for me baby? Another two edges and then you’ll get a reward, can you do it for daddy?”

You actually weren’t sure if you could, maybe another one, but two seemed like it could be teetering on the edge of too much. Alexia realised your apprehension before you managed to voice it, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips.

“Let’s try for another one and see how you feel, hmm? You’ve been so good for me princesa, if it’s too much let me know and we’ll stop or take a break.”

The soft Alexia fades as soon as you nod your head, the determination on your face returning, you didn’t want to disappoint Alexia and you didn’t want to tap out unless you were seriously struggling, so you tried to control yourself as much as possible and focus on the lesser sensations.

It didn’t take long for you to get close once again, once the pain subsided you were left with pure pleasure, pleasure that was almost as blinding as the pain that you had previously been experiencing.

As soon as it starts to be perfectly, consumingly good, the vibrator is taken from you and your overwhelmed with the pain of Alexia’s hand coming down on your pussy again. This time around she’s kind enough to spread her hit across your whole sex, instead of targeting your clit, the pain is there all the same though.

“What’s your colour, princesa?”

You take a few seconds to reply, focusing on taking a couple of deep breaths whilst you wait for the immediate pain to pass.

“Green, I’m green daddy.”

Alexia reaches up to press another soft kiss to your lips, her lips linger on top of yours.

“You feel like you can go for another one? I’ll make it worth your while, I promise.”

You take your time replying to her, enjoying the feeling of her lips pressed to yours and the vibrations that would spread across yours whenever she breathed.

“I can go again.”

You could feel Alexia’s lips perk up against yours, a smirk growing on her face.

She keeps her lips pressed to yours as she brings the vibrator back to your clit, making it a little bit more bearable.

Alexia’s lips stay connected to yours the whole time, the scream and moans being pushed straight against her lips as you work through the pain and pleasure coming straight from your core. As soon as you’ve begun to get closer to the edge, it’s gone and just like every other time, you’re hit with an overwhelming pain as Alexia’s hand comes down one final time.

Her lips leave yours as you groan and try to process the overstimulation that you can feel radiating across your lower half.

The pain is soothed by Alexia’s tongue, her lips and tongue flattening out across your puffy clit, it mellows out the pain slightly, but simultaneously begins to push you back towards the edge that you were so desperate to get over but also be away from.

Your hips cant up as a reflex, a reflex that is quickly put to rest as one of Alexia’s hands pushes down against your hips, keeping you pressed against the mattress.

“Stay still and let me clean you up princesa.”

Alexia’s tongue gently traced it’s way around your cunt, lapping at the wetness and getting as much of it on her tongue as possible. Her spare hand pushed it’s way underneath you, locating the forgotten butt plug nestled between your cheeks and gently tugging at it.

While her mouth doesn’t provide any real kind of pleasure, the tugging and twisting of the toy in your ass certainly does. Alexia’s been stretching you out for weeks, it’s been a slow process, but worth it, it’s elevated your experiences with her that extra bit, to the point where you could probably come solely from her playing with your ass. You’ve got no doubt that one day she’ll want to try it and when that day comes around you’ll be more than happy to oblige her, there was something so much more special and sacred about having her play with your ass in ways that nobody else had. You were no anal virgin, working at a sex club meant that you’d experimented more than the average person but never in the ways that Alexia managed to, even now that the two of you were months into your situation she still managed to surprise you by introducing new things.

Alexia didn’t wait for you to get to the edge, she needed you to stay conscious and she was fairly certain another edge might put you too far into subspace, to the point where you weren’t coherent enough for her to be using how she wanted to. Right now, you seemed to be floating in that perfectly obedient place where you typically fell after some proper exertion, compliant enough to do anything Alexia wanted. It was her favourite place to have you.

You mewled at Alexia as she pulled away, stripping off the rest of her clothes and leaving them in a neatly stacked pile at the foot of the bed before reaching for the strap she’d left on the edge of the bed and fastening it around her hips with practised ease. It was a new dildo that she had attached to the strap, larger than she’d had you take before, she was well aware that it might be a bit to big for you, but she was also excited to see if you were up for it.

Alexia crawled her way in between your legs, pressing the silicone cock flat against your stomach before pressing her lips to your neck, reaching behind you to take off the bra that was still attached to you. She keeps her lips attached to the skin across your chest, marking you up just how she liked to. Alexia loved the fact that you were all hers, hers to mark up, hers to order around, hers to come home to.

“Daddy, please.”

With the feeling of silicone pressed against your stomach and Alexia’s lips sucking deep purple marks along your collarbones, it was hard to not be insanely desperate, especially considering just how much she’d focused on working you up.

“I’ve got you princesa, daddy’s going to make you feel so good.”

Alexia finishes with one last hickey before pushing herself up onto her elbows, giving herself a better view of you.

“Gonna give you your reward princesa, gonna make you feel so good.”

Alexia leans back, positioning herself in between your legs and lining herself up with you, slowly beginning to work her way in.

The groan that you let out as Alexia slowly starts to thrust the length into you. Simultaneously, as she’s slowly working her way in, she reaches down, tugging at the plug still slotted inbetween your cheeks.

It seems to be the right move, because your body practically melts from the mixed stimulation, making it that much easier for Alexia to ease her way in, your body pretty much opening up for her.

Just as she bottoms out, she tugs at the plug, pulling it out and replacing it with her fingers.

You moan in a way that Alexia’s never heard before, your whole body vibrates along with the moan, like your whole body is generating the sound.

It only spurs Alexia on.

Once she’s certain that you’re comfortable with the length and width of the strap, she starts to quicken her pace, rocking her hips against yours, her fingers following the same pace. Alexia nudges your legs just a bit further apart and a bit higher up, giving her a better angle to start properly fucking you.

Alexia is mesmerised by the feeling of being inside of you in two different places, she hadn’t planned this for tonight, but she’s so grateful that it happened because it feels different in all of the best ways.

She roughens her pace as you seemingly begin to get closer, your body jerking to meet Alexia for every single thrust.

“D-Daddy, fuck, please.”

Alexia quickens her pace, beginning to roughen her thrusts.

“Hold on for me baby, wait till I’m ready and we’ll come together.”

You bite down on your lip hard, the double penetration is making you feel things that you’ve never felt before and you feel like you're about to explode in more ways than one.

“Please daddy, need to come.”

Alexia nods her head, desperate to get herself to the edge so that she can ride it out with you.

“I know baby, just a little bit longer, daddy’s got you.”

Alexia leans down, pressing a kiss to your jaw and pistoning her hips as hard as possible, getting enough friction against her clit for her own orgasm to begin to grow, the coil in her stomach beginning to tighten.

“Go ahead baby, come with daddy, I’ve got you.”

It doesn’t take long before you’re plummeting over the edge, your orgasm hitting you like a semi-truck, quite literally.

You go boneless immediately, all the pent up pleasure and pain finally coursing it’s way throughout your veins and all the nerves inside of you lighting up like a christmas tree.

Alexia’s orgasm isn’t as strong but it hits her all the same, she pulls out slowly before collapsing on top of you, slotting her head into the crook of your neck and letting the both of you come down.

When your body stops shaking and your breathing evens out, Alexia lifts herself off of you, pulling the strap off of herself before lying down next to you and bringing you into her arms, allowing you to come down in her arms.

The skin to skin contact does wonders for you, sending you into a warm cloud of post sex happiness as you burrow your way into Alexia’s neck, trying your hardest to jump inside of her skin.

“Princesa.”

You try your hardest to ignore Alexia, opting to attach yourself to her.

“Princesa, c’mon you need to get up.”

Alexia doesn’t have the heart to actually try and lift you off of her, but she does have a brain that is telling her that there are things that need to be done before she can enjoy your company in her sheets.

“Princesa, go to the bathroom, I’ll fetch us both some water from the kitchen and then we can have cuddles, okay?”

You groan into Alexia’s neck, clearly displeased with her suggestion but also forcing yourself off of Alexia to do as she’s asked, knowing that it is the logical thing to do.

“I want cuddles when I get back, proper cuddles.”

Alexia rolls her eyes.

“I don’t pay you for cuddles.”

It’s lighthearted, a joke that has you even rolling your eyes.

“No but you probably should, I’m a pretty awesome cuddler.”

Alexia snorts, nodding her head, it’s true.

“Cuddles once you pee and drink some water, okay? I’ll even sleep in an extra hour for you, how does that sound?”

It’s an offer you’ve got no business denying.

“Meet you back in bed?”

Alexia nods her head, already making her way into the kitchen.

“I’ll meet you there.”

———————————————————————

anyways this fic was written in three different countries and i sooo can’t be fucked with editing it so sorry if you experienced the after math of that!!! love yall and hope you enjoyed this 🫶

[honesty-my-policy]

i'm so infuriated

I'm not Jewish and I'm so infuriated at the world.

I can't imagine how it must feel to be Jewish. Especially as this entire ordeal has made me dive more into educating myself about Jewish history and how the world truly has always blamed everything on the Jews.

How is everything their fault?

Even the crucifixion of Christ has been blamed on the Jews when it was a Roman tradition?

Martin Luther who is known as one of the original reformers in Christianity's history wrote a book called "On the Jews and Their Lies". In which he advocated for burning down synagogues, Jewish homes and if that didn't work, Jewish people!

Apparently, somehow, Jews caused the Black Death despite the fact that the most predominant modern theory is that due to climate change in Asia, rodents began to flee the dried out grasslands to more populated areas which ended up spreading the infected fleas they carried, thus spreading the disease. The fleas infected not just rats but ground rodents in general, so once the rats migrated the fleas could jump to any ground rodent and the infection spread.

Some of the craziest modern stuff though has come mostly from the Middle East (i wonder why)...

Apparently, Israel has remote control sharks that can attack Egyptian civilians and tourists, at least that's what a Governor of Egypt things. source

According to a fundamentalist group of Muslims called the Wahhabis, the Jews have a secret ally they've been conspiring with... the Gharqad tree. A tree, they call it the Jew tree. source Which is identified as either nitre bushes or Lycium which is part of the nightshade family, it's such a thing that the TREE WIKI PAGE TALKS MORE ABOUT THAT THAN THE TREE ITSELF source

Palestine once said that Israel was breeding super rats that could grow twice the size of a normal rat - just to chase Arabs out of Jerusalem, note this was in like 2008, where are these super rats NOW? source

The Nation of Islam (an organization) accused Jews of tricking people into thinking slavery exists??????? Sorry, "still" exists. This was originally in 1996, the gall this motherfucker had in 1996 to say "Where is the proof?" - oh, his name is Louis Farrakhan btw and there is an entire section dedicated to him on the anti-slavery website iabolish.org - his page

Also, Pokémon is a Zionist conspiracy plot to overthrow Saddam Hussein, at least, in 2001 that was what some Iraqi security personal reported. source

listen... I won't lie. I love a good conspiracy theory because to be honest, the amount I trust my government or anyone in authority is so small that just about anything could come out as true and I'd be so un-phased.

but blaming the Jews for everything when they make up an estimated 0.2% of the population versus say the 23% that is Muslim? Which there are approximately 50 Muslim-Majority countries in the world, though depending on sources the exact number differs.

If anything Christianity (32%) and the unaffiliated (16.3%) should be eyed at. Also, how come no one ever gives the folk religion people a hard time? Not that anyone deserves to be given a hard time as long as they aren't hurting anyone, it just boggles my mind to be honest.

sources for numbers cited came from this website: https://worldpopulationreview.com/

anyway, woke up this morning and just wanted to say this cause I'm mad and I want to show my support but also call out stupid people. I'm here to fight for Israel and the Jews, fuck off pro-palestine simps.

[reobsessed]

Sickness In His Care

Pairing: Reader X Karl Heisenberg. Content Warning: 18+, Mentions of sex but no actual sex in the story itself, Reader X Karl Heisenberg fic, slight humour. Can't think of any other warnings but please let me know in the comments if I missed anything. Summary: You'd been seeing Karl Heisenberg for a while now and had since started staying in the factory. However, one day you come down with a fever. Expecting him not to care you do your best to avoid him but you find yourself at a loss for words when he tries to take care of you. This is just a short one, inspired by my current illness. Wanted to write about a sick reader being taken care of by Karl =p Hope you enjoy! Might add more one-shots to this series later. Thanks again to Suri for editting and reads!

Your body was racked by coughs and splutters, occasionally drowned out by the sound of heavy machines whirring. You did your best to fall asleep but the oppressive heat of both your fever and the humid factory air wouldn’t allow for that. How Heisenberg worked in this, day in, day out boggled your mind. You had a lot of questions concerning that man.

With no such luck in drifting off, you flung your legs over the side of the makeshift bed and wrapped a blanket around yourself, for modesty’s sake. You made your way to the main elevator and adjusted your underwear while you walked.

Despite their inability to see, you felt intimidated beneath the many dead eyes of the factory. They’d long since had the life and humanity extinguished from them, but much like a porcelain doll, their eyes followed you across the hall.

Unfortunately you weren’t wearing any shoes either. They’d been discarded halfway across a room, (you couldn’t remember which) when he’d accosted you from behind several nights before. He did that sometimes, he’d enter a room irritated, ranting and raving about his ‘life’s work’, Mother Miranda or some other insignificant event. Then as he would throw his coat to the floor he’d come up behind and bury his face in the crook of your neck. It was his silent plea for attention, the only release in his life that didn’t coincide with destructive violence.

Things would get rough sometimes. Tumbling around with shrapnel and a dirty man who never left his basement certainly had its risks; but at the end of it all, nothing ever went outside of your comfort zone. Cruel and ruthless Lord Heisenberg was capable of some decency, if only in that regard.

Memories of the prior night filled you with excitement. You brought your hand to the swollen cluster of love bites mapped across your chest and neck. You’d returned the favour, and left a colourful array dotted across his neck, ensuring they were in full view of any who encountered him. You hoped to God he got called into a family meeting sometime soon. With an impish giggle you clicked the button on the elevator and ascended to the top floor. You hoped he was anywhere but his office, but unfortunately your luck had run out around the same time you’d met him.

As soon as you opened the door you were greeted by his side profile, head in hands, slumped over a diagram on the table. Probably sulking again.

“The fuck are you doing in here? I thought I told you not to bother me while I’m working.” He let out a puff of cigar smoke. Didn’t even have the decency to look at you. Dick.

As per your usual pettiness you ignored him and made a beeline for the door at the back of the room. Suddenly you toppled backwards as a thin chain of metal wrapped itself around your wrist, not intended to hurt you but to stop you from going any further. However, he’d miscalculated and hadn’t noticed your sickly state until after you’d begun to tumble backwards. As you fell to the ground, he steadied you with more offcuts of metal.

“The hell is wrong with you?” he raised his voice, a combination of tiredness and confusion. 

Metal clattered to the floor as he stood up. With a rough grip, he pulled you upright and turned you to face him. He studied you intently, glasses slipping down past his nose. You stared into his eyes, watching as anger dissipated into uncharacteristic worry.

Heisenberg was never good at concealing his emotions, especially not his anger and now this too, apparently.

“I just wanted some fresh air,” you croaked.

Cigar smoke choked your already irritated throat and you began another coughing fit, you tried your best to turn away but his burly arms held you in place. You were shocked that he didn’t seem to mind when you spluttered all over his stained work shirt but then again, you’d covered him in worse things.

“Forgot humans get sick, haven’t been sick in over forty years.”

“Certainly starting to get sick of you.” 

You couldn’t see his eyes behind the blackened glasses, but you knew he was rolling them.

“What the hell am I supposed to do?” He grabbed your arm and shook it. “What do you do when one of these gets sick?”

“Well, I was hoping to avoid you turning me into one of your new toys, but I guess that’s up in the air now,” you sniffed, swallowing a large glob of phlegm stuck at the back of your throat.

“That’s fucking disgusting,” he sneered at you, now holding you away from him at arm’s length.

“I can’t help it,” you spat, attempting to pull yourself free. “And besides, have you smelt yourself recently?”

“Wait a minute, I have something for this!” His grip slipped from your wrist and fell into your hand. You let out a nasalled grunt as he dragged you across the room to his desk. After rummaging around with one hand he pulled out a dusted bottle from the bottom drawer. “This should do the trick.”

Your nose wrinkled when you looked at the awaiting bottle. It was covered in a thick layer of grime and much of the writing had worn off the label a long time ago, based on the few remaining letters you assumed this used to be some kind of ‘medicine’. You turned it over to see the date ‘1923’ printed along the bottom.

“Yep. I’ll be better in no time with this.” You swivelled the bottle, watching as black ooze splashed against the sides. He had a triumphant grin on his face and you couldn’t bring yourself to ridicule him further. “Right, well I’m going outside.”

“Dressed like that?”

“What are you, my dad?”

He pulled the blanket around your shoulders and touched a gloved hand to your forehead.

“You’re cold.”

Stifling yet another cough, you laughed softly. 

“How can you tell? You’re wearing gloves, you buffoon.”

He wrapped you in an embrace, only when held in the stillness of his arms did you realise that you’d been shivering this entire time. Had your fever turned to chills? With his arms still around you he pulled you over to his chair and sat you in his lap, presumably so he could keep working.

“So… you not gonna turn me into a Soldat after all?” you laughed nervously.

He brought the cigar to his lips. “Bad materials.”

You slapped his chest playfully and turned to nestle yourself in his arms. Usually after sex you’d push him away, the man radiated far too much heat in the already sweltering factory, but you were currently thankful for the warmth. It must have been awkward trying to work around the mass of your body, but he didn’t complain. As the two of you sat together you came to the realisation that he wasn’t doing any work at all, and that in reality, all he wanted to do was sit with you in his arms while you recovered.

Fuck.

Somewhere along the way the two of you had lost yourselves. What was supposed to have been a one-night stand had spiralled into weekly hookups, and from there it had turned into shared space and something akin to actual concern for one another. You were filled with a sense of dread, but you pushed it down in favour of sinking further into his chest. Before you drifted off, you could have sworn you felt the brush of his lips against your hair. 

A bitter sweetness churned your stomach. You felt a unique longing, beyond anything you’d ever felt for anyone else. Sex and desire had become secondary in favour of a new want; if only you had more time to spend in comfortable silence together.

[fungalittleweirdo]

chubby!reader × Donnie? he gets a tad bit flustered? maybe a bit of a spicy peice? praise kink🙏🙏🙏🙏

-👾🐈‍⬛️

already writing limes in the sfw blog, are we ?

jules fears NOTHING !!

i love writing this kind of content anyway >:)

if you wanted something higher on the citrus scale i shall direct you to my other blog, @fungalittlefreak where you could get even more specific with whatever you desire !!

i initially wanted to make this longer but i'm swamped with so many things to do, might have a part two if there's demand for it.

one chubby reader x flustered donnie coming right up B)

thank you for the request anon <3

important side note: while i don't deem this as "mature content" i feel more comfortable if anyone 15+ could interact with this post, otherwise please don't read or interact. while i can't force you not to, i hope anyone below 15 years old could respect my wishes.

May I?

It's movie night in the Hamato household and you're invited! April said you didn't have a choice, so here you are contemplating on wearing something comfortable or something cute.

Delivered (18:42 PM): is this too much? i'm bringing a change of clothes because i'm sleeping over

apes (18:42 PM): oooo who are you trying to impress

apes (18:42 PM): god i hope it's not leo

apes (18:42 PM): you deserve better

You shake your head, grinning at your phone as you send your last message to April.

Delivered (18:43 PM): i'll never tell :)

You finish getting ready and grab your overnight bag, heading over to the lair. The clattering and chattering in the kitchen tells you that the brothers would be in there, but you spot Donnie alone on his phone in the projection room. He seems comfortable enough not to wear his battle shell, which you find surprising. You take a step toward him and he looks up, turning to you as you put your stuff down beside the couch. He stops, staring while you move to sit beside him, even though you already greeted him, waiting for his response.

"Uh, yes. H-hello. Greetings. Good evening."

He looks away, then looks at you out of the corner of his eye. You grin and lean in with a smirk. He blushes, then a nervous smile plasters itself on his face. "D-do you need anything from me?" Donnie asks politely, but his eyes darted everywhere, scanning you as if he is committing the way you look right now to memory.

"A kiss might be nice."

The softshell freezes and it looks like his brain is malfunctioning, his face warming at the thoughts racing through his mind.

"May I?"

He reaches up to cup your soft face in his hand. His fingers twitch as if he's holding himself back from holding you firmly. You nod with a whispered yes, leaning in for a delicate, soft kiss. The softshell perks up and a dopey smile spreads across his face after you part, then he leans in for a deeper kiss, the heat on both your faces burning a little hotter.

"Your lips taste so good," Donnie breathes, threading his fingers through your hair at the base of your skull, holding you close as the two of you made out on the couch. "So sweet for me..." He whines, his blush darkening his face even more while he reaches for you with his other hand, holding you against him. His fingers knead the plushness above your hip for a moment, the hitching in his breath apparent. After another minute or so the two of you officially part, noticing the lair has gotten quiet.

You turn around to find nearly everyone with their jaws dropped to the floor, eyes boggled. Donnie sneers, wrapping an arm around your waist to hold you against him possessively. The way his hand grips your tummy made you yelp, feeling embarrassed now that the two of you were caught. April snaps a picture, Leo snickers, Mikey cheers, and Raph narrows his eyes in suspicion, then smiles, proceeding to whack Leo upside the head before he moves over to tease Donnie. The Caseys walk in with two bowls of popcorn, Junior has a knowing look on his face while CJ looked on in confusion to the commotion. You sigh with a grin, shaking your head and relaxing in Donnie's arms as movie night started to kick off.

[stardustbuck]

im a multishipper. i ship buddie and bucktommy. but if im being honest one side is being incredibly more hateful and toxic than the other side. (aka the one thats been around longer) maybe i’ve taken off my rose-colored shipping glasses, but seeing ppl make hate posts abt tommy/lou gives me the ick. it makes me actually realize why oliver left twt. bitterness will get you nowhere. if buddie is meant to happen then it’ll happen. you cannot force it to happen. everything i’ve seen and read tells me buddie was more of a consideration pre-s5 than it is currently. and that fucking sucks but just because things aren’t going your way doesn’t mean you need to get on the internet and be a bully. it’s truly mind-boggling to see people so intense in their hate for a character that has righted his wrongs, who is now friends with the people he wronged, is well-liked among said characters and is now being a positive influence on buck’s newfound sexuality. their dynamic is also nothing new, pessimist/optimist ship dynamics have been around forever and it’s only a problem because it’s not eddie.

i would be happy for buddie to go canon as much as the next guy. getting buck canonically bisexual is mind-blowing enough in itself, i’m glad we’re witnessing it at all. if ryan doesn’t want to do buddie because he feels its important they stay friends then so be it. platonic friendships between a queer man and straight man are important, especially one that runs so deep like buck and eddie’s. sure, their friendship could be read as romantic throughout the show, but partly because oliver and ryan truly share a great chemistry on screen which helps lean into it but also because these shows are not written with an endgame in mind. 9-1-1 is very much a go with the flow show, and if bucktommy is where the show is flowing then that’s what is meant to be. invisible string theory isn’t because ppl think it was always planned from the beginning, it’s because it’s amazing how well buck and tommy becoming a couple comes together so perfectly out of pure coincidence.

we know buck was supposed to be made queer long ago. we also know maddie originally was brought in for eddie but was put with chimney instead. if tim minear hadn’t left after s4 i truly think buddie could have been already established by now, but unfortunately that isn’t how things work. perhaps the idea of tommy and eddie was pitched but ultimately ryan didn’t agree it would work for these character nor the story being told at the time. buck was already supposed to be queer, so turning it to tommy and buck instead makes total sense.

no one is saying you aren’t allowed to continue to ship buddie. most ships in the world are ships that have never gone canon. buddie is valid even if it’s non-canon. god knows i will continue to read and write for them and enjoy them whilst also enjoying buck and tommy together. the behavior i’ve been seeing though is just weird, especially from larger creators who i understand are very passionate for buddie, but it’s weird when you flip it into tommy/lou hate instead of just talking about buddie itself.

perhaps the theories will be true. we don’t know! maybe buck and tommy won’t last and buddie will be endgame. i’m happy either way because buck’s sexuality is so important for him and at the current state of the show eddie is absolutely not ready for anything romantic because he’s still grieving shannon to a point where he is not ready to move on romantically just yet and we’re literally shown this. even if buddie is happening, it is not happening by the season finale nor is it probably happening by the beginning of s8 considering the current storylines and where they’ll be at by the end of this season. lou probably isn’t going anywhere and from the looks of it, we’ll probably be bumped up into a semi-regular character in s8 like karen. he’s easy to write into the plot, he’s got connections to people and emergencies outside of buck that would integrate him well into the plot. their romance is supposed to be “romcom” esque, they’re taking things slow but they’re obviously happy together at the moment.

im just really tired of the nasty attitudes ive been seeing. sure theres are som toxic people on both sides, but to me its obvious which side is being the bigger bully. reality checks needs to be put in place for some people, go outside and realize you are getting way too worked up over a tv show where plotlines are out of your control. if the show is ruined for you over one relationship then stop watching it.

[marshdamsel]

zdzisław beksiński, dystopian world of living and death

Beksiński made his paintings and drawings in what he called either a Baroque or a Gothic manner, with his strong impressionism on war and sorrow in his era by depicting it into utopian realism with strong doomsday-like-paintings. (A mind trash of Avery and her unbearable thoughts).

As he claimed "I wish to paint in such a manner as if I were photographing dreams." Really resonated well in my mind, sort of the revelation of each overthinking ideas and the suffering of each troubled minds, but depicted well in the-great-depression era, let alone the infamous painting of him talking about the infamous sole nazi leader, with red hue and piercing eyes drawn in great facade of elegant greco-roman architecture war (coughs, yes, hitler).

His paintings were dominantly (not all, but some) used the prussian blue hue, which, matching to my likings, yet have gruesome background in that era. Prussic acid also known as hydrogen cyanide, that most of the time left blue hues in asylums and chambers that are used for the mass k wording method in that era.

Meghann Riepenhoff, Littoral Drift Nearshore #209, 2015, San Francisco Museum of Modern Art.

His painting also reminded me of cyanotype printing method, though. As it was the most ‘knocked-out-painted-realism-out-of-a-photographs’, it was often latent, or invisible but requiring a chemical to visualize the image. Two different method but same vision, visualization of the utopian ideas of the realism itself.

Actually, his paintings were giving haruki murakami’s mind boggling dystopian type of painting, maybe that’s why it’s fun to stare at his works, because it’s like imagining, and manifesting Murakami’s work into life.

[frankenland]

Promised to tell you guys how my meeting with Tom Sturridge went so here it goes!

Okay so I work at Comic Con Holland, assisting guests. I was working that weekend and unable to see Tom. Which was a total bummer. However, I was backstage a lot. And he walked by a couple of times, but I was too shy or busy to say hi. At the end of the day I was very bummed and sad that I wasn't able to speak to him. So during my break I was standing in a corridor backstage, talking (and crying lol) on the phone with my brother. Because according to his assistant he would leave the building at five-ish. But it was six already! I of course thought he had left and my dreams were utterly shattered.

So I was venting about to my brother when- all of a sudden- I saw Tom running like, SPEEDING through the hall past me as if his life depended on it. I was amazed and confused, and I told my brother on the phone "hold the fuck up he's still here?". Turns out that yes, he was still here. My colleague who was assisting him, walked up to me and said: "hey! I arranged something for you!"

And I was like: "????? U wot m8?"

AND THEN, Tom walked out of the backstage room towards me and he said HI and I said HI and- I went on to tell him how much Sandman has meant for me and how important his performance has been and I thanked him for it. Honestly I was mesmerized by him, I knew he was a good casting for Morpheus. But tRUST ME, when I saw him in real life I could only think; he is perfect for the role of Morpheus, it is like as if he just jumped straight out of the comic panels itself. It was mind boggling how much he looked like Dream. So we talked for a little while, he was very touched by my words. We shook hands, asked me my name, he told me his and then he left for his ride!

Big ✨slay✨ of the day

[theneighborhoodwatch]

i wish i had some intelligent new speculation in preparation for tonight's update, but alas, i do not. so instead, i will share a thought that's been bouncing around in my head for a while: i say this as someone who is not at all familiar with the wally x y/n scene and not particularly interested in becoming familiar with it, but given the sheer amount of AUs that center around that concept, it boggles my mind that nobody's thought to make a slay the princess AU yet.

listen. listen to me. the general Vibe of welcome home so far is that humans are the higher power here for better or worse but wally is closer to that power than his peers, right. and slay the princess is a (gory) love story between two beings of incredible cosmic power. and one of the big storytelling gimmicks of slay the princess is that your actions in the first loop determine the princess' appearance, demeanor, and feelings towards you in the second loop, right. and wally just so happens to have a shitton of aus in which he differs wildly in terms of appearance, demeanor, and feelings towards you.

arguably you can even take this further, like, fuckin. welcome home has a spooky house. slay the princess has a spooky cabin/surrounding area. the other neighbors could be like, uh, fuckin. i dunno, the other voices. barnaby seems like he'd fill the shoes of the contrarian pretty well. do you see what i'm saying. this thing practically writes itself.

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Is it ever explained in the game why the Mc doesn't have their memories post-resurrection?

Like they get the Fool’s body and the fool is like new beginnings and stuff ( I ASSMUE, Tell me if I'm wrong) , but is an actual explanation in the game? Like did they also have to give something up even though the didn't make the deal? Is it because they don't have their original body?

Spoil it for me idc I just wanna know

The Arcana Brainrot Essays: MC's Memories

Hi anon friend! I hope you don't mind the ramble that's about to proceed -

Not only is the magic system of the Arcana pretty vague, when it comes to MC inhabiting the Fool's body, we have six different canon routes and twelve different canon endings, all with different implications.

With MC not being present for the ritual that gets their body back, it's fairly safe to assume that MC is not bound by any deals at the time of the prologue (though there is plenty of space to argue otherwise, given how vague the details are). Many of the routes include other characters reckoning with the deals they made at the time, but MC's reckoning has more to do with the truth than anything else. The best explanation, and to my knowledge, the canon explanation we get across routes for MC's missing memories is "because of the resurrection." That's it.

Here's where I jump from canon stuff to the implications I picked up through the different routes, focusing on the how aspect:

Similar to what other creators have pointed out in the past, MC's amnesia bears a lot of similarities to amnesia caused by traumatic brain injuries or (in my opinion) trauma in general. Based off of the occasions where MC is able to recover their own memory of dying, it seems like in at least some routes, the memories are still in there. They're just suppressed by a mysterious something. Given how the memory loss is associated with strong headaches, how said headaches are triggered by attempts to remember or vivid references to the past, and how attempting to forcibly remember something has led to further damage in the past, MC does seem to be in the middle of a nonlinear healing journey. As several of the routes progress, we can even see MC being able to succeed at mental tasks with lower levels of difficulty when previously it would have resulted in a debilitating headache.

My personal conclusion from all of that is that MC's amnesia is the result of the sheer trauma of dying and then coming back. It's a mind boggling experience simply to process the facts of what happened - let alone the physical and emotional experience. The story picks up with MC having physically recovered enough to live independently, and continues with MC's mental and emotional growth into fully growing into themself (in the upright endings). In some routes, they're able to recall a memory of their own as the story progresses, in other routes, any knowledge MC receives of the past is from other perspectives. Which leads to one of the biggest questions: can MC get them all back?

Some of our best clues outside of MC's personal narrative are the two other characters involved with returning missing memories: Muriel and Julian. (Asra, we know, forgot the details of the ritual itself, but otherwise has all memories intact. Nadia's missing all memories since entering Vesuvia for the first time, but it's never clear how much she gets back.) Julian recovers his memories when he reverses his deal with the Hanged Man, choosing to live as a normal person again with MC so that he can piece together the answer to the Plague. In his case, all the memories come back at once, fully intact.

Muriel's situation is different. He doesn't have any memories missing, he just has the capacity to take away the memories of the people around him. At first, the method for returning those memories is a sensory trigger (myrrh), but as time goes on and the deal loses its effect, the memories seem to slowly return to the people around him. It's different from Julian suddenly having access to the full breadth of his memories again, but the overall effect is the same: the lack of memory is resolved to the point that "normal" functioning can resume.

So, what does that say about MC's case? In short - anything. It really is up to how you imagine your MC, their past, the specific dynamic they have with their specific LI, how their future progresses post canon, etc. There's canon examples of characters regaining their memories gradually over time, getting them all back at once as the result of a deal, or simply learning to move forward and embrace the chance to start anew. And these are just examples of the default apprentice - there are plenty of MCs with gorgeously fleshed out backgrounds whose stories are their own twist on canon, where none of this really applies!

In short, how MC interacts with their missing memories is largely dependent on who your MC is. As to why they're missing - it's written as being because of MC dying and coming back. Whether that's due to the nature of it being trauma/a traumatic brain injury, or whatever other reason you can think of, is up to you ^.^

Cheers friend!

brainrot

[dailyadventureprompts]

Why I don’t Use the Great Wheel Cosmology

For those of you who might not know, “The Great Wheel” is a name given to the arrangement and relations of planes that’s provided for the “default” d&d setting, and is assumed to be going on in the background of 99% of all published d&d material. It arranges the planes in a looping sequence vaguely based off the alignment chart, with wordily embodiments of the most extreme forces of good, evil, law, and chaos existing at the cardinal points. Souls depart from the material plane and are drawn directly to whatever plane most aligned with their alignment, to either live on in an eternal state or to become outsiders of their particular domain.

Over the years that I’ve run this blog I’ve stated time and again my distaste for the great wheel cosmology, meting out my critiques in bits and pieces as they were relevant to whatever I happened to be writing about at the time. This has happened so much that I wanted to collect all my gripes in one place so I could link back on it instead of reexplaining myself each time. So without further ado, brace yourself for an opinionated nerd telling you his in depth opinions about something that absolutely does not matter: 

The whole point of a cosmology is to describe the natural order/structure of the universe, and the great wheel describes a universe that’s effectively just the christian dichotomy of heaven and hell with a few extra steps. It’s a fundamentally moral view of how the multiverse works, and makes “right” and “wrong” not only into objective facts, but a geography you can walk across, travelling from the most morally correct place to the most incorrect place with just a couple of protals. 

This system is painfully rigid, not only removing any nuance over whether a course of action is correct, but preventing any competing worldviews from even existing: you can’t have differing belief systems/schisms of faith when you can go out and see proof of the rightness of the great wheel. Much like with how d&d handles gods, this paradoxically removes the idea of “faith” from matters of worship, which to me removes the whole point of having gods in the first place, reducing the big questions around death into a moral assembly line with one of a select number of pre-determined outputs.

It’s no stretch to say that the great wheel is just the alignment chart canonized as a fundamental part of the game world, and while we’ve all grown past the fundimentally black and white morality of the alignment chat It still mystifies me that d&d uses the great wheel as a piece of worldbuilding upon which most campaigns are supposed to be set. 

This boggles my mind because d&d has a much better and simplier cosmology upon which campaigns can be set, one that makes no moral judgments and instead allows for the infinite creativity that the game is supposed to be all about. The astral sea is an infinite expanse of possibility, where worlds are spun together from thoughts and dreams paralleling the process of creation that goes into the act of storytelling itself. What better way to explain a multiverse that functions on narrative tropes more than it does physics? Where hope really can prevail against wickedness and rule of cool supersedes the dictates of fate.

To end with a couple of personal gripes, the great wheel is really kind of boring? As a selection of afterlives about half of them are idyllic natural landscapes with nothing really going on and the other half are unplesant caves/wastelands suffering some kind of fucked up weather event. Most of it is painfully eurocentric when it comes to visions of the afterlife, and those planes that DO stand out ( The crashing metal cubes of Acheron) are more weird for the sake of weird. 

I can’t help but focus in on how much the great wheel doubles down on the game’s weird hodgepodge of colonialist belief structures. While WOTC has hastily amended out “always chaotic evil” over the past couple years, they still set their material in a cosmology where creatures like orcs/goblins/gnolls are born evil, drawn to evil all their life, and are doomed to suffer eternally in various hells because “evil” is in their very nature. This isn’t good worldbuilding, it’s the authors seeking some kind of weird vindication for their own beliefs by creating a group of people they can feel morally justified in punishing, and we all know where that gets us.

[bloody-bee-tea]

June of Doom 2024 Day 1 - Help me

This marks the beginning of June of Doom, though the doom will be kept to a minimum in here. These boys already suffer enough in canon, the least I can do is give them something to be soft about. The title is always the prompt for that day.

Suguru is not going to lie about the fact that watching Satoru–certified strongest sorcerer in centuries–struggle with opening a jar is hilarious to him.

His amusement must radiate off him, because after yet another failed attempt at twisting the lid off, Satoru turns towards him, eyes narrowed.

“You could just offer to do it, you know?” he bites out and now that makes Suguru outright laugh.

“You could just ask for help, you know,” he shoots right back, not moving a muscle to come to Satoru’s aid.

There are two reasons for this: one is the entertainment a struggling Satoru gives him but the other is a little bit more serious. Suguru knows that Satoru was never allowed to rely on others, was never allowed to ask for help or support and Suguru and Shoko are trying their best to hammer it into his head that things are different here, that Satoru is allowed to be simply human every once in a while and that it’s only natural that there are things he needs help with every now and again.

They are not having much success with that if Suguru is being honest, and Satoru’s current struggle with the jar is just proof of that.

Satoru glares at Suguru for a moment longer, before he turns his attention back to the jar in his hands and Suguru is glad that shooting laser beams with his eyes is not one of the many powers that come with the Six Eyes, because otherwise the jar would be obliterated by now.

“I could just smash it,” Satoru muses once he accepts that staring the jar into submission is not working and Suguru sighs.

“If you want to cut your throat open with glass shards and then have Shoko call you a stupid, idiotic moron, sure, be my guest,” he mildly gives back and his mouth curls into an amused smile again when Satoru visibly freezes and then shudders.

Suguru knows that he’s more afraid of Shoko than of the glass shards–which is stupid in itself–but it’s working out in his favour right now, because Satoru puts the jar down, a defeated sigh leaving his mouth.

“Fine, we’re eating out,” he decides, and expectantly looks over at Suguru.

“So you’d rather get dressed, leave the school and pay for a meal than simply ask me to open this jar up for you?” Suguru asks for clarification, because the lengths Satoru goes to to avoid asking for any kind of help are truly mind-boggling.

“Who says I’m paying?” Satoru asks him and now it’s Suguru’s turn to narrow his eyes at him.

“If you make me go with you, you are paying.”

“Who says I want you there?” Satoru asks in return and now this is going to be fun.

Suguru smirks.

“Okay, fine. Go then. I’ll just have dinner here, like planned. I wish you a good evening,” he pleasantly says, implying that he’s going to wrestle the jar that gives Satoru such trouble into submission and Satoru immediately sits down at the table.

“Oh, you’re going to cook? Mind if I stay?” 

“On second thought, I’m not hungry anyway,” Suguru immediately replies, getting up and waving over his shoulder. “Good luck with whatever you decide,” he calls back to Satoru and a quick glance over his shoulder reveals a gaping Satoru.

It’s honestly hilarious.

He’s almost out of the building by the time Satoru catches up to him.

“You would let me starve?” he whines out. “Me, your best friend, the light of your light? You’d be so cruel to me?”

Suguru knew it would happen, so he doesn’t so much as stumble when Satoru collides with his back, hanging off him like a limpet and he rolls his eyes, trusting that Satoru can feel the sentiment even though he can’t see it.

“There are two easy solutions to the problem,” Suguru explains to him, not stopping in the slightest. “One, you can just say you’re going to pay for my dinner.” He’s predictably met with silence. “Two, you can always ask me for help.”

That earns him a displeased huff but still, Satoru doesn’t speak up. It’s only when they arrive at Suguru’s door that Satoru speaks again.

“Fine, dinner it is,” he mutters, and even though Suguru suspected that this would be the outcome he still can’t help the slight twist of his mouth.

Surely one of these days Satoru will feel comfortable to ask him for help. Suguru simply has to believe that.

“Thank you for paying,” Suguru says in advance, reminding Satoru that this is what he agrees to and Satoru rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, come on, I’m starving.”

“Things could have been so much easier,” Suguru reminds him but decides to drop the topic when Satoru’s face closes off.

Suguru can push and prod much more than anyone else would ever be allowed to, but even then Satoru has his limits and clearly, Suguru has reached that for today.

“Let’s go to your favourite place,” he says, a peace offering in lieu of a real apology—one that Satoru wouldn’t take anyway, Suguru knows that from experience—but instead of happy enthusiasm he’s met with a frown.

“You don’t like that place,” Satoru reminds him and Suguru freezes for a moment before he shrugs.

“It’s not my favourite, that’s true,” he admits. “But they do have some dishes I like, so it’s not that bad. We can do my favourite place next time,” he offers and now that finally gets Satoru to grin at him again.

“Deal,” he agrees and then happily skips ahead, Suguru following him at a more sedated pace.

One of these days, Suguru vows to himself again, but clearly it’s not going to be today, so he’s going to let it rest. For now, he’s simply going to enjoy an evening out with Satoru.

~*~*~

Ever since that fiasco with the jar, Suguru can’t stop thinking about it. It was bad before but now it’s occupying his every waking thought because he just doesn’t understand why Satoru wouldn’t just ask him.

Suguru wouldn’t even have made him ask verbally; it would have been enough for him if he offered the jar to him. That would have counted, in Suguru’s opinion, but even that Satoru couldn’t do.

Shoko and he have never outright asked Satoru why he’s never asking for help, certain in their assessment of his childhood and family trauma, but Suguru can’t help but to think that even that can’t fully explain Satoru’s stubbornness.

He acts as if he’s going to die if he so much as hints at needing help and Suguru simply doesn’t get it.

“Hey, Satoru,” he asks, carding his fingers through Satoru’s hair in anticipation of his mood when the question is out and just like predicted, Satoru melts under his touch.

“What?” Satoru grumbles, not even bothered enough to open his eyes or lift his head from where it’s pillowed on Suguru’s lap and it brings a small smile out on Suguru’s face.

He knows Satoru trusts him because of moments like these and he truly wouldn’t change that for anything.

And yet he’s still going to shatter the peace.

“Why are you so adamantly against asking for help?” he comes right out with it and despite the way Suguru still scratches at his scalp, Satoru tenses and makes to move away.

Suguru stops him with a hand to his shoulder and a reassuring hum but he knows he’s only semi-successful because Satoru glares up at him.

“Why are you so stuck on this?” Satoru grumbles out and Suguru sighs.

“Because you’d rather struggle with a single jar for ten minutes and then pay for two dinners than simply asking me for help. I could have opened that jar for you and I would have thought nothing of it. Why can’t you just ask?”

“Because I’m supposed to be the strongest!”

“So? I mean, you are, there’s no denying that. You are the strongest sorcerer. But that doesn’t mean that you also have to be the strongest human, you know.”

Suguru keeps his voice even and calm, hoping to defuse some of the anger he can see bubbling up in Satoru and he allows himself a small smile when it works and Satoru goes limp again.

“Yes, it does,” Satoru eventually says. “I can’t be weak. I’m not allowed to be weak.”

Suguru huhurthurts for him.

“Do you think me to be weak?” he asks even though he knows what the answer is going to be and he’s proven right when Satoru huffs in displeasure.

“Of course not, why the hell would I think that?”

“I asked you for help just yesterday, remember? When I asked you to carry some of the things for me we bought.”

“Yeah, but that’s—” Satoru tries to say but Suguru interrupts him.

“How is that different? Why is it different when it’s me?”

“Because it just is,” Satoru almost yells out. “You’re allowed to be—” his voice cracks and breaks before he goes on, “—human. Things are different for me.”

“How are things different for you? You’re just as human as I am,” Suguru carefully says, desperate to not let his voice shake, to not let Satoru know how much he hurts for him but he knows he’s not really successful because Satoru’s face twists.

“Am I?” Satoru asks, his voice uncharacteristically wavering. “I’m not so sure I am. My family at least doesn’t seem to think so.”

“Well, they are fucking wrong,” Suguru almost spits out and bends over, until he’s certain that all Satoru can see is him. “You are. And that’s perfectly fine.”

Satoru stays suspiciously quiet at that but Suguru isn’t deterred.

“You’re human, and you’re allowed to have emotions and to struggle with things and to ask for help. None of these things take away your strength. Nothing can change that you’re the strongest sorcerer. Those things are not related at all.”

Satoru presses his lips together when Suguru falls silent and Suguru knows that this is Satoru’s limit. He probably already pushed a little bit too far, but Satoru hasn’t run out on him yet—which happened before Suguru learned to read the signs—so it has to count for something.

At least Suguru hopes it does.

“Let’s not speak about it anymore today,” Suguru finally relents and sits back up, taking his soothing motion in Satoru’s hair up again. “I’m sorry.”

“Just—shut up,” Satoru mutters, but Suguru knows he doesn’t mean it when he turns so he can hide his face in Suguru’s stomach.

“Alright,” Suguru softly gives back and scratches at Satoru’s scalp with more intent to make up for his words.

They spend the rest of the evening in silence and Suguru knows that they are going to be okay.

~*~*~

Suguru wasn’t really paying attention when Yaga handed Satoru a letter after their lesson, but he does notice that something is off the moment Satoru freezes. Yaga and Shoko were long gone by the time Satoru opened it so it’s just Suguru and him in the classroom right now and that makes Satoru’s reaction even more alarming.

Suguru sees how his eyes fly over the page, sees how stiff his shoulders are, how his hands shake the tiniest bit and all Suguru wants to do is soothe him however he can, no matter what the letter says.

“Satoru,” he quietly says, cautious not to make Satoru flinch but Satoru flinches anyway.

He can’t seem to tear his eyes off the page in his trembling hands though, so Suguru carefully puts a hand to his wrist.

“I’m here,” he simply says, because he doesn’t know what’s wrong, doesn’t know what the words say so he can’t tell Satoru that everything is going to be alright. Not without knowing what’s happening. “Satoru, breathe.”

Satoru sucks in a reflexive deep breath and then continues to breathe like he should do and that has to be a good sign.

“I’m not weak, right?” Satoru asks, his voice thin and reedy and Suguru’s fingers around his arm spasm.

“No, you’re not,” he’s quick to reassure him and watches Satoru’s head jerk.

“And I’m human?”

“You very much are.”

Satoru turns his gaze to him at hearing that and Suguru can’t remember a time when Satoru had looked this panicked.

Not even curses are able to put that look on his face.

“Help me,” he breathes out and Suguru still doesn’t know what’s going on, doesn’t know what he’s even supposed to help with, but he knows that there is only one possible answer.

“Of course. Whatever you need.”

At hearing that, Satoru shoves the letter into Suguru’s hand, who quickly scans it over. It’s nothing out of the ordinary, in his opinion; Satoru’s family is asking him to come back home for a weekend but if before Suguru could only guess at Satoru’s relationship with his family, this certainly cements it.

To say that Satoru has issues with them is probably the understatement of the year.

“You want me to come with you?” Suguru asks when it becomes clear that Satoru is not going to tell him what he actually needs help with, but it’s not as if Suguru needs him to say it out loud.

He knows Satoru well enough to read the desperate panic right off his face.

“Please,” Satoru whispers, still clearly so desperate and Suguru is quick to nod.

“I will, I absolutely will, Satoru.” He’s not sure how much he can push Satoru right now, how much he can handle, but he feels as if he has to say something else, too. “Thank you for asking,” he quietly adds on and then watches in horror how Satoru crumbles where he stands.

He’s quick to gather him in his arms, pressing Satoru’s shaking form to his chest and he presses one reassuring kiss after the other to the crown of his head.

“It’s okay if it’s you, right?” Satoru asks, his voice barely audible even in the silence of the room and Suguru understands that his is about more than about asking for help.

It’s about his family, it’s about letting Suguru know that he’s not as strong as everyone always claims he is and there is nothing else for Suguru to do but nod.

“It’s always okay with me,” he agrees because Satoru can be allowed to be weak and painfully human with trauma and issues in his presence.

Just like Suguru can allow himself to be the same with Satoru.

“Come with me. Don’t let me—I can’t go there alone,” Satoru says, his voice still shaking and Suguru doesn’t mention the hand that is so desperately clutching Suguru’s shirt.

“You won’t be alone. I’ll be right there, I promise.”

It doesn’t even bear thinking about—Satoru asked him for help, so Suguru will do whatever he wants. Or needs, in this case.

“You wanna take the afternoon off? We can finally watch that movie you keep pestering me about,” Suguru offers when nothing else comes out of Satoru’s mouth and that finally gets him to relax a bit.

“You’re not going to ask? Why?” Satoru wants to know and Suguru shakes his head.

“No. I don’t care. You don’t want to go there alone, so you won’t. It doesn’t matter why. If you want to tell me, then I’m here, I’ll listen, you know that, but I’m not going to ask.”

Just like Satoru hadn’t asked when Suguru almost had a panic attack over a stupid painkiller, because the sight of pills is still a trigger for him, even though he’s been off his medication for months now.

“A movie sounds good,” Satoru says after a beat and Suguru allows himself a small smile.

“Let’s go then,” he decides, quickly stuffing the letter in his pocket, so Satoru doesn’t have to see it again.

It’s only once they are on Suguru’s bed, Satoru curled into his side and the movie running, that Satoru speaks again.

“Don’t leave me alone, okay,” he softly says and Suguru almost wants to laugh because there is no universe out there where he’s ever going to leave Satoru alone ever again.

“Never,” he promises and brushes his lips against Satoru’s forehead.

“Good,” Satoru breathes out, pressing his face under Suguru’s chin into his throat and Suguru doesn’t mention that he’s going to miss the movie like this, because the movie is not even the point in the first place.

The point is to let Satoru know that he’s ereherehere, that he’s always going to be here and he thinks he gets that across when Satoru melts against him.

They’ll face Satoru’s family together, just like they face curses together and in a week or two they will laugh about this, just like it should be.

And Satoru will know that he can ask anything of Suguru because Suguru will always be there for him.

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Hey everyone.

Maybe some of you have noticed that my writing's been super sporadic since like June (if you haven't that's very okay) but I just wanted to write a little bit about what's been happening in my life because it's had a pretty big impact on my writing.

It turns out that I'm actually ace.

So, if you happen to notice an uptick in me writing fics with ace characters who still get to be loved, I'm just trying to process a thing.

Please feel free to skip the rest of this post if you're not interested in the harrowing journey of self discovery. I am absolutely giving too much information about my life, I'm just really working at processing everything and I'm hoping writing it out will help. And honestly, there have been some beautiful souls in the Tumblr community who have given me some beautiful encouragement (including but not limited to @basicallyahedgehog who answered an anon ask I sent them the other day with so much kindness and encouragement because I'd bawled my eyes out about one of their fics featuring ace Harry/Draco.).

(Anyway. If you want to read a ramble about all of the things I'm struggling with at the present moment, I'm gladly accepting advice and kindness at this time. Please read below the cut and chime in if you have anything hopeful to add.)

For most of my life I've pretty comfortably called myself a "picky bi" and in the past couple of years have labeled myself "demisexual" because I'm not sex repulsed; I've had sex, it was fine/good when it's with someone who I'm in love with. I moved on from the labeling, content with the label I'd given myself and whatnot.

It's been a minute (read: 8+ years) since I've been in a relationship that got to the point where I've considered having sex but I didn't really think all that much of it. In retrospect, I think this is largely because I've grown a lot in terms of self respect and honoring my own autonomy. Somewhere around 25, I started saying no when I didn't want something and if the other person didn't respect that decision they were not worth my time.

Anyway, it didn't really occur to me that perhaps going nearly a decade without thinking about/wanting to have sex with anyone (and without experiencing even vague aesthetic attraction to someone with only the odd exception here and there- some of you saw that post a couple of months ago, apparently just having the thought that someone is pretty isn't the same as attraction that allo people experience- so that panic now seems pretty unnecessary. It literally boggles my mind that people can just see a person they've never met and want to have sex with them. Anyway, I'm digressing.) Apparently, it's not a common occurrence even among demisexuals to go that long without thinking about sex if you have emotional intimacy with people (which I do). So fast forward to June when I went to a conference for lgbtqia christians and started listening to people talk about attraction.

To say that my experience of attraction and desire for sex is profoundly different than that of nearly all of the people that I talked to at that conference would be an understatement.

After that conference, I started talking to a lot of friends about their experience of attraction and their desire for sex (eventually this also included some new friends who are demi/ace) and have been a little flabbergasted by their responses. Suddenly, in light of the fact that my body doesn't interpret a lot of things the way that other peoples' seem to, a lot of things started to make sense.

I've been called a flirt (at best, and a [cock]tease in more unpleasant moments) my entire life because I always want to give people gentle physical affection; I love holding hands, touching people on the arm while we're having a conversation, playing with peoples' hair, hugging, leaning, the list is long- none of those things have ever felt like flirting to me. Every one of those actions was the end in itself, there was no artifice in my touches, no desire or even thought for more, but APPARENTLY that is not the thing that happens in a lot of peoples' bodies. It is incomprehensible to me that simple, affectionate touches are not something that everyone just wants to do to anyone that they harbor platonic affection for. This also applies to the way that I communicate with people. Again, I've been called a flirt, been told that I'm intense, been told that I'm trying to 'steal' peoples' boy/girl friends simply by being friends with them. APPARENTLY, showing "too much" interest in other peoples' lives and hobbies is flirting. APPARENTLY, getting really excited for people who are excited and doing cool things is flirting. Because (or so I have been told) the emotional energy I expend is too much to just be friends; surely, I have another angle.

Next, in terms of attraction, I experience attraction to beautiful things in nature in the same way that I experience it to people. If I'm being honest, nature makes my heart sing in a way that people usually don't. I can get caught up in the beauty of the world; the vastness of the ocean for literal hours, in the majesty of the mountains, the strength of trees, the way water carves a path through the rocks in glens and waterfalls. The world takes my breath away, it makes me weep just to exist in nature. Apparently, this in not everyone's experience of nature and apparently, many people who want to have sex don't think that trees, or bodies of water, or mountains have as much (or more, in my humble opinion) appeal than humans.

It's come to my attention that even the way that I have experienced heart break from relationships where I was "in love" and having sex is not the way that people typically experience heartbreak. All heart break feels the same to me; grieving leaving a job, grieving the death of a loved one, grieving horrible things that happen to my students, grieving the loss of friendships, and grieving the loss of a relationship feel like the same heart break. (Like some of those things hurt worse than others but the heart break over the loss of a relationship isn't worse.) One of my friends mentioned that I grieve the passing of summer into autumn (I fucking hate the winter) like the loss of a relationship and I wish I could say that she is wrong. I've been told my whole life that I experience my emotions too big and I just can't help but wonder if there is some sort of correlation there, but I digress.

The literal dream for my life is to have someone who wants to get in the car or on a plane and travel with me. Someone who I can make coffee for in the mornings and who wants to cook me dinner at night. Someone who wants to sit on the couch after a long day at work and talk about nothing, or watch a show, or just exist together. Someone who wants to dance with me in the kitchen, and hold my hand while we walk, who wants to smile at me while I ramble about nature. I want someone who wants to hold me when I cry, who wants to listen to me when I'm mad, someone who will remind me to take a break when I'm working too hard. The only thing that I actually want from a partner is just someone to do life with. It's not that I'm opposed to sex, it's just that it literally doesn't matter.

(So many things in past relationships, so many fights, so many of the reasons that I was left, so many things that I JUST DIDN'T UNDERSTAND make sense now. Or at least they're starting to.)

So. In the process of understanding this complete fuckery, of trying to put all of the pieces that haven't quite made sense in my life into order, in the end of July my best friend told me that she's in love with me.

And on the one hand, I'm fucking over the moon, delighted, honored, speechless, crazy-happy. She's literally the best person I have ever known, she's the kindest, sweetest, most loyal, loving, amazing human being to ever exist. She loves me so well, so completely, like all of the things that I said above that are my dream; that is her. We road trip together, and she lets me braid her hair, and we snuggle on the couch and watch movies, and we talk for hours (literally hours, when we road trip we go for 7-10 days at a time and I like do not shut the fuck up for more than like 5 minutes total the entire day and she loves me; loves listening to me talk about whatever is in my brain), and when I'm going on and on about how pretty things are in nature she looks at me like I'm the pretty thing (when I say, 'oh my gosh. that mountain, tree, lake, ocean, etc. is so beautiful.' she literally says 'you're so beautiful' and I am deceased, my heart can't take it, I can't fucking stop smiling- I don't even want to), and she lets me info dump about whatever I'm learning, and she loves my brain and my stupid adhd, and she plays me sappy love songs and sings them to me (and she sings in my car, sings to me even though she doesn't sing in front of people) and and and... she makes me feel like I'm good. She makes me feel like I'm all of the things that other people have said I'm not.

And I am constantly terrified of hurting her.

There are a variety of reasons we're not planning on having sex (partially because it's not really something that I want) that I'm not going to get into but I'm afraid of being what I've been to other people. I'm afraid of her feeling like I'm pushing her buttons because I just always want to be touching her (very platonically) like just having our shoulders bumping while we walk, or putting my head on her shoulder when we're on the couch, or letting our elbows press against one another while we're in the car. BUT what happens in our bodies when we're touching like that is really different. Like I described above, for me any type of touch is really the end goal in and of itself (if I'm braiding her hair, it's safe to assume that that is all I want to be doing. If I'm leaning against her on the couch, that too is what I'm wanting.) But that's not always how her body wants to interpret touch, even if she logically knows that I'm not intentionally teasing (she would never say that she feels like I'm trying to tease her, for the record, it's just the easiest way for me to articulate what it feels like could be happening).

And I love her so much, like so much; I'd do anything for her but it's not the same kind of love that she feels for me. By which I mean that she is just really gay and actively attracted to me emotionally/physically but for me if she started dating someone else, I'd be actually fine with that. If she was dating/having sex with someone I wouldn't be jealous, as long as we still get to be friends. (And maybe her dating would necessarily change the dynamic of our friendship and that would be really hard but that's a different mental exercise.) This isn't the way that she feels.

She is so special and important to me but even the way that we are aware of the other person's presence is different. For me, if I'm in a group of people and she's there, I'm aware of that on some level but it's not at the forefront of my mind. My brain is always sort of 'triaging' the people around me when they're my friends; who's being too quiet? who has been going through a rough patch with work/family, etc? who has an exciting new thing they need someone to squeal about with them? who hasn't been included in the conversation in too long? (see the paragraph above about flirting. haha.) She's there but she often isn't the first person I'm thinking about because I talk to her almost every day, I get to love her every day, and odds are good that we either drove together or will talk on the phone our way home from the event- I see the other people there less, so my brain just prioritizes them since I have less time to love them. (This is actually really good, healthy progress for me in terms of healthy attachment and not forming a codependent relationship. My therapist and I are really proud of the work I'm doing, but I'm digressing again.) For her, though, she always knows exactly where I am. It is work for her to pay attention to other conversations, work to be in a different room. In most situations, I am the person she defaults to thinking about and wanting to be near and she has to actively choose other things if she wants to. (And I don't mean to sound like an absolute asshole, it's not like I ignore her or anything, and I'm delighted for us to be in the same conversations, it's just a different way that we engage with the world.)

I love her so much. And I'm afraid of messing everything up. Of hurting her. Of asking too much of her without asking for anything at all. I try to let her be the one to initiate physical touch (or I ask first) because sometimes it's too hard on her body and that's fair. I feel frustrated with the different ways that we experience love for each other because the way that she loves me feels so good and safe to me and it makes me feel so happy. I'm afraid that the way that I love her doesn't feel as nice for her, that it feels less than, that the way I express my love and devotion isn't as good. I'm afraid that the way she loves me is going to wear her out. She always says she knows I love her just as much as she loves me, it's just different. She says she's okay, she says that the way I love her is good for her and she's happy. But it's hard to believe.

I'm afraid that she'll fall in love with someone else who can love her the way she loves and I won't matter to her anymore (partially because that's been my experience of people who have said they're in love with me). I'm afraid.

Is it even fair to entertain the idea of maybe having a whole life together? (we're already entertaining the ideas, already daydreaming about 'what if we lived together', where we're going on our next road trip, etc. And I'm terrified.) Is it asking her to give up too much? I would spend the rest of my life with her. I'd be good and kind to her, I would love her with so much tenderness. But is it enough? Am I enough with just the things that I have to give? Is it actually possible for someone to love me for just me and not for the ways that I could contort myself to be something I'm not?

I recognize the irony in what I'm asking. I know that that's what all of these hundreds of stories I've written here say, it's what I want to believe. But is it even possible when it's reality?

I don't know. Does anyone have any good advice? Any ace people out there living with a person who's in love with them? Does anyone have something that's lasted?

[schizopositivity]

Aight, I had a stroke of misfortune (related to my schizophrenia, or rather my disability benefits). I was getting the max amount of money from the British Columbia government (relevant) and it was going ok. I met someone and we decided to move in together and get engaged! Nice! I did my research, I was under the impression I could live with my fiance and still get support, at least till we became common law (which takes two years according to bc law) or get married. bOY WAS I WRONG. Apparently you become common law when "living in a marriage like relationship" (ei when you live together). I lost every penny of my disability support because my partner makes more thank 19k in a YEAR. For record the poverty line in bc is 25k. It boggles my mind they want me to live in actual poverty because I fell in love. I cried for days, I have pretty bad schizophrenia, the government declared me unable to work, but now that I'm living with someone I don't deserve support. Which by the way, we were going to be homeless in four months if something didn't happen. Thankfully I found a job. The big question is if I can keep it. For now we're ok, we can keep our apartment. But I wanted to warn other people to please do better research than I did, you need to know the rules of your disability support backwards and forwards. Call the government itself to get crystal clear answers. And if you live in BC, canada, don't fall in love I guess? Anyway this has been a PSA. I hope everyone is having a better time with their government than me.

I'm really sorry to hear that, that rule is so messed up and harmful. It's completely unjust, no one should lose their right to live (and we all need money to live sadly) just for falling in love. I firmly believe that we do not have marriage equality yet because of this. It's so enraging to me that many governments force their most vulnerable populations to remain in poverty, and suffer for having conditions/illnesses they can't control.

I hope you are both able to get other types of government support like money for food or rent that can be applied for separately (although my understanding of the system is my experience in the USA). Or some other outside support system to make sure neither of you have to face homelessness.

Good luck with your job! You shouldn't have had to get it in the first place, but I wish you the best. Just go easy on yourself and don't push yourself too much (because employers will often encourage or expect it). Just try and do the bare minimum to keep the job. Maybe you can ask for disability accommodations if you are comfortable doing that.