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divine-misfortune · 2 months

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Lucifer below, finally someone sees that Cirrus just needs to be taken apart every once in a while

Maybe Rain and Swiss pull in others to join- after all, it's not every day you see the ghoulette who commands the stage during Mummy Dust crumble

Oh you don't know how insane I've been about this.

Edit: I should probably provide context for this because it was a few months ago - @iamthecomet enabled me the first time I posted about this and anon you've enabled me to become worse :3

Heavy warning for objectification on this, degradation, a little pain play (and i mean little), and the consent comes off mildly dubious

But

Swiss and Rain are more than happy to share :)

“Tight, isn't it?”

“Fuck Rainy…” Phantom hissed through his teeth, chin dropping to his chest as he braced his hands on the table bracketing her hips. “Real tight.”

Buried to the hilt, Cirrus could feel the intrusion. Less of a stretch and more of a swell. It makes her groan all the same, toes curling where they barely graze the cool tile of the kitchen floor. She bit down on the makeshift gag between her impressively sharp teeth at the first shallow thrust like Phantom was testing the waters - whether that be for his sake or hers she couldn't say.

“Took a hell of a lot of work getting it in there,” Swiss chuckled and draped himself over the back of Rain's chair, kissing the water ghoul's temple as Rain pet his cheek. “Cunt was a little too sloppy to be much good for anyone else when we finished with her but water lily here had a real good fix.”

Phantom nodded but was quite obviously wasn't listening too intently, his violet eyes glittered as he stared down at the place their bodies met. Should have met. She struggled to lift her head just in time to watch his fingertips traced the soft flesh toned silicone jutting awkwardly out of her, it looked as strange as it felt.

“Made good use of that fleshlight Sunny got tired of after a week.” Rain shrugged easily, head tipping to the side as Swiss started to mouth lazily down the side of his neck.

“Made our toy useful.” The multi ghoul mumbled, seemingly more focused on nibbling Rain's pulsepoint than acknowledging Cirrus as more than an object. She was an object for all intents and purposes, and that was all she'd be as long as she was tied to that table - and only Swiss and Rain knew how long that would be.

“Don't be shy bug,” Rain encouraged with a deceptively sweet lilt to his voice, “it won't bite.”

Her head hit the wood with a dull thud when Phantom snapped his hips forward, nudging the silicone that much deeper into her in a way that was borderline uncomfortable. A little encouragement was all Phantom needed apparently. Thrust after thrust till he took to a semi-frantic pace, one that typically would have forced her eyes back into her skull and left her sore for days, and yet she felt none of it.

Frustrated she twisted against her restraints, rope biting deeper into her wrists. She knew the more she pulled the tighter they'd get. It was the last thing she'd requested before Rain had secured the scrap of fabric between her teeth and behind her head. Cirrus still whined. Envious. Forced to simply watch Phantom blindly chase his selfish pleasure while she remained denied and untouched.

Swiss had reminded her in a sing-song voice as the silicone was seated inside her that toys have no use for pleasure, toys only have to give but that didn't stop her from wanting.

There was a particularly wet sound that came each time he bottomed out that just seemed to taunt her with what she couldn't have.

“Look at how pink his ears get when he's close,” Swiss mused and Rain hummed in agreement. “Sweet thing, feel so good don't you?”

Phantom, steadily turning an entirely new shade of red, only nodded fervently. He couldn't get the words out despite opening his mouth to try, only managing a strained whine. He often lost his words when embarrassment kicked in, quickly provoked into silence by the two almost predatory sets of eyes focused on him and every little move he made. Swiss cooing over him also didn't help, but that was the point. Swiss liked the little bug flustered more than anything, and Rain just enjoyed seeing them all squirm while he remains calm and collected. It was the power trip he got off more than anything.

“How much longer do you think he'll last?” Rain asked, coyly swatting Swiss’ hand from the button at the top of his shirt.

“Few more little humps at most.”

“Gonna make a mess of it for us?”

“Course he will.”

The lip of the table pressed into the back of her knees, biting slightly with every uncoordinated thrust from the little ghoul. Another louder sound of dissatisfaction tore out of her, craning her neck to look at the two ghoul's clearly enjoying her fruitless writhing. Her eyes widened and narrowed with another useless pull against her restraints. Every inch of her buzzed incessantly, anticipation pinging off of each nerve in a manner that could only be described as torturous. Wired.

Cirrus felt both the rope and her jaw creak from pressure as Rain's gaze swept over her like one would look at a painting in a hotel lobby. Cold consideration, semi disinterested. She distracted with her struggle in his opinion, took away from the main event. He turned his head away, into Swiss’ neck. The multi ghoul chuckled through a hitch in his breath and peeled away from Rain, carrying the scent of burning tobacco and petrichor towards her.

He leaned over her, blocking the harsh ceiling lights above. She attempted to growl but he killed the sound before it could grow into something proper. His fingers curled around her throat slowly, one falling into place after the other purposefully before he introduced his grip.

“I think our toy is broken” Rain tut, chair squeaking as he got to his feet. “Makes far too much noise.”

Cirrus swallowed harshly, throat clicking under Swiss’ palm. His face spelled out the disappointment echoed in Rain's voice.

“Looks like we didn't do a thorough job,” he released her and Cirrus sucked in a greedy breath through her nose. His thumb swiped over the corner of her gagged mouth, smearing drool across the flushed skin of her cheek. “I think there's still a few thoughts left up there.”

“Oh?” Rain had taken to the space against Phantom’s back. “I don't remember giving it permission to think.”

The kid was still too enraptured by the warm wet heat around his cock to pay him, or any of them, much mind. Fixated on how her thighs shook every time he bottomed out. Captivated by her neglected cunt leaking around the silicone, still helplessly turned on despite it all.

Cirrus screwed her eyes shut when Rain flicked her clit, a high wounded sound tearing out of her as she unintentionally bucked off the table - Phantom cursed softly in response. It was an abrupt and sharp feeling that left her reeling, worsened when Swiss tugged at the painfully tight clamps pinching her nipples. A harsh tug at the chain connecting them and she was keening, back curving off of the wooden surface beneath her. He released at the peak of the cruel sensation and let her collapse like a ragdoll back onto the table, tears beginning to blur her vision.

She could stop it if she wanted to. Snap her fingers twice and both ghouls would drop it all to cut her free and carefully lift her upright. A simple action and they'd feed her the antidote to their venom in an instant, but the poison had already gone to her head. Left her with syrup in her veins and fog in her head. She was too hooked to ever want the cure.

“Fuck, fuck I'm so -” Phantom gasped as Rain pet over his hip.

“Knew you'd be soon,” he laughed “pull it out. Show me, show me how much you like our toy.”

Phantom whimpered but obliged. Cock slipping out to lay aching against the silicone, head slapping wet against her clit. Another assault on her nerves. His head fell back against Rain's shoulder as he wrapped those thin fingers around him at the base. It sounded slick as he gave a slow, experimental stroke just to watch pre bead and drip from the near purple tip.

“Isn't it so pretty?” The water ghoul sighed fondly despite the little pained sounds Phantom made, fighting to not hump into his fist.

“Cutest little cock” Swiss agreed and also encroached on the little ghoul's space. He lifted his chin and kissed the tip of his nose then the corner of his mouth, somehow Phantom was the one who looked wrecked. “Such a good bug for me…You wanna cum for us?”

“Nn - yes, oh fuck, so bad Swiss.”

Another kiss that had him melting, surely his knees were ready to buckle by the time Swiss licked over the seam of his lips. Rain gave him a few more generous strokes before finding her glassy eyes. His smile was dangerous. He lined Phantom back up with the slit of the fleshlight and let him hammer home.

“Good boy…Go on, give our toy it's reward. Use it like a toy is meant to be used.”

The tears rolled down her cheeks in time with Phantom's final sob of pleasure, she could only imagine the sensation of him spilling hot and sticky inside of her.

Her bottom lip quivered and Rain's eyes glittered gleefully. He hummed to himself as he pulled a marker from his pocket, drawing a single black line below her bellybutton, just above that dark little patch of curls.

“First one of the night, doll.”

#spicy tag #writing #void writing #nameless ghouls #cirrus ghoulette #rain ghoul #swiss ghoul #phantom ghoul #the band ghost #ghost the band #the band ghost ficlet #answered

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lostelfwriting · 10 months

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I started writing this as an anonymous ask, then I decided it's too long and I'll just make a post and tag you, and then I learned it's your birthday, so apparently, I've written you a birthday fic. XD Hope you enjoy! Happy birthday, @gabessquishytum !

[CW total power exchange relationship]

[Read on AO3]

Hob's body vibrated in excitement, but at the same time, his skin tingled uncomfortably. Today. Dream had promised that he would let Hob cum today, if he was good.

Hob had been good. He was always good. Even when Dream put him through impossible tasks, he did his best to be good. He took his punishments and thanked his master and lovingly kissed every inch of his skin that he was allowed to. He soaked up Dream's love and returned it tenfold, or at least tried to.

But being good was a whole another thing, not just adoration. Being good meant obeying harsh rules and being perfect in a way that not even the dreamkin that Dream had personally created manage. Of course, Hob would never truly disappoint Dream, but he would often meet a sigh and a shake of a head, a frown on a beloved face, when he broke and failed yet again only to receive his punishment with excitement, almost grinning through the sting of a spanking when Dream looked at him like he was something precious.

Today, the stakes were higher than some punishment. Hob could count the number of orgasms that he had in the 4 years he had been Dream's plaything on his fingers, and he would still have a few to spare. Sometimes, Dream would act like he would let him cum only to change his mind at the last moment, giving Hob an unsatisfying, painful ruined orgasm. Those were almost more frustrating than the months and months of denial, which was saying a lot when Hob had to wait for his first orgasm with Dream for 13 months. Yes, for the whole first year of their arrangement he was made to wear a cock cage that was never taken off for anything but cleaning.

Shaking the nostalgia off, Hob walked into the throne room. He had already gotten through the morning routine and breakfast without trouble, but the day was still mostly ahead of them. The tingling of his skin intensified as his mind ran through all the things that he could mess up. It's not like he cared about cumming so much that he would break down if he didn't get to cum tonight – he cared about the submission and serving his master more than his bodily pleasure, and the pleasure that obeying his much more powerful beloved brought him was unlike any other – but he didn't want to disappoint. Dream looked like he had something great planned when he talked to Hob this morning, all casual and regal even as Hob was choking on his cock, taking care of his morning arousal. And Hob didn't want to ruin those plans.

The deep voice of his master reached through the fog of his worry and almost startled him. "Come, pet, kneel beside me. I will be holding audience for the next few hours and I want my treasure displayed."

Hob rushed to obey. But that was a mistake. He only managed to take one step before he tripped over his own foot and planted his face on the stone floor. To his horror, Dream quickly stood from his throne and walked over to him.

"I'm sorry," Hob uttered as he tried to pick himself up from the floor. He didn't even get one arm under himself before Dream's hand wrapped around his upper arm and he was being lifted. Instead of disappointment or anger, there was concern on his master's face. "Are you alright, Hob? Did you injure yourself?"

"I'm fine," he assured, breathing out a sigh of relief when he remembered that tripping and falling weren't a mistake to be punished but a simple human thing that could happen to anyone. He needed to stop letting his anxiety get the better of him.

Dream's face furrowed in deeper concern as he studied his plaything's expression, hand still supporting Hob's weight even though he was fine standing on his own. "Lucienne," he said eventually, addressing the royal librarian and advisor who Hob didn't notice was in the room because he never paid attention to anything but his master, "tell the people that I will not be holding audience today. I will not be disturbed for the rest of the day." With that, he led Hob away, heading to Dream's chambers.

A short but tense walk later, where the only sounds were their steps – Dream's boots and Hob's bare feet – and Hob's nervous swallows, he found himself being pushed gently but insistently on Dream's bed. While that was familiar enough, it didn't make him any less nervous, so he got the courage to speak up. "Master? My lord, did I—?"

"Hush," Dream silenced him. In no time at all, Hob was tied up spread eagle with silk ropes on top of the softest sheets a human mind could comprehend. Dream sat down by his side and placed a cool, gentle hand on Hob's face. "You are not feeling well," he noted knowingly.

"I'm sorry," Hob said, because denying it would be lying. He wondered if he was going through a drop – they had dealt with those in the past, three or four times – but no, this felt different.

"Do not apologize. I will take care of you now," Dream declared, standing up to rifle through the chest where he kept his favourite tools to use on Hob. Hob wasn't sure how any of that would help if he was sick, but he didn't question it.

"Is it worry that is plaguing you?" Dream asked, holding a vial of oil and nothing else in his hands. "Do you still doubt your worth?"

Dream always surprised him when he did that. Hob blinked, nodding dumbly. "I— Yes," he admitted. He often forgot that Dream was as obsessed with him as he was with Dream, and just as much in love. It seemed like an impossible thing, the two of them leagues apart and yet. At Dream's nod, he continued. "I didn't want to disappoint you today."

Dream nodded again and returned to the bed, tightening the ropes so Hob wouldn't be able to move an inch. "You would never disappoint me, my treasure," he said as he worked. "You are good. You are perfect. But…" he admired his work for a minute, eyes tracing Hob's straining muscles hungrily. "I will ease your mind. You will receive your reward early, right now."

Hob's eyes widened. "I will get to cum? It won't be ruined?" he asked, just to be sure nothing changed. Of course, Dream could – and many times in the past did – go back on his word or change his mind, and Hob wouldn't be able to do anything but shake and sob as he was denied physical pleasure yet again while his mind melted in bliss at being so thoroughly owned. But it didn't seem like one of those days, and the image of Dream's genuine concern was still fresh in his mind.

"Yes, Hob," Dream nodded, a small, dangerous smirk spreading on his lips. "You will be allowed to cum. You do not need to hold back or wait for a permission. I will make you cum. As many times as you can."

Hob gulped. As many times as you can rang through his head over and over. He had no doubt that when Dream was done with him deep into the night, many, many hours from now, he would no longer be able to count the number of the orgasms that he had in the past four years on his fingers, even if he used his toes too.

"Yes, please," he whispered, voice rough. Dream was getting ready to ruin him. And he would enjoy every second of it.

#dreamling #nsft #cw tpe relationship #my writing

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yooniesim · 4 months

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That being said, I am NOT sorry to tianshii88/rentbunny/zhuhaitang/yin-shimo for anything. I still stand by everything that I said about their shipping preferences not being tagged correctly or kept away from unconsenting parties, how they conduct themselves with minors, and how generally creepy I find them as a person. I blocked them partly because they were liking posts calling me a coon and telling me to kill myself, and I think it's very funny they sifted through people simply not liking their extremely high poly count (ignoring all the times they got compliments of course) and an out of context remark not even directed towards them as "receipts" to play the victim. They are not a victim in any capacity and when I have the time to do so I will post everything I have and everything I can find. I was going to let it go and leave them unnamed but I guess they don't want it to be that way. I truly find them unnerving and one of the only people I know on simblr I would worry about the minors here being around. I stand by their ban from my server 100% and I would encourage others to do the same.

In the last few days, I've actually seen more people saying how they were made uncomfortable by tianshi's actions towards them, and if anyone else feels comfortable coming to me with the details, please do so. You got the actual receipts, hell, send them. Especially if you have the ones from his server with the dead dove channel full of 12-15 year olds. I'll add them to the mountain. And I'll censor them and keep you anonymous. I'm not one for callout posts anymore, but honestly, as a victim of CSA myself and someone that was groomed on the internet as a young child, this entire situation has been sending up red flags throughout for me. The flippant attitude, the mocking of survivors, the lack of empathy or accountability, it's all really disturbing. This may be the one time I really just have to force myself through all the shit I've been sent and lay it out like I used to. It's tough and it's triggering as hell and I don't want to. God knows I don't have the mental energy or a lot of time for this shit anymore. But they will not stop attacking me and unrelated people in the server even though I tried my best not to name them or bring them shit, and I think they really think they haven't done a thing wrong ever. They admit to everything yet defend everything, from saying putting a minor in a sexual pose for cc preview is okay because the original mangaka did it first to pretending having a dead dove channel in a server full of minors is okay because it has a simple react role to access... and more near incoherent word salad. Every concern you bring up has a convenient excuse, while they call survivors crybabies and dumbasses for being triggered by their irresponsible and creepy behavior. While they try to invalidate people with legitimate concerns about their creepiness by calling them bullies for bringing up their poly count or trying to frame them as something they're not. And if they think all that is okay, people in the community are going to continue to be harmed by them in the future, and I really don't want that.

When I post it, it'll be appropriately tagged and most likely under a read more so that anyone that doesn't want to see it can avoid it. Sorry guys.

#ceci speaks #nonsims #text #negative #tw csa mention #tw grooming mention #you want to see some real receipts? ill give em to ya baby #i'm staying outta drama but this aint drama #this is dangerous shit #also the fact that this is on the gratitude day lmfaooo crying #sorry everyone but creeps be creepin

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aprismaticodyssey · 5 months

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Hello; please read this, if you don't mind.

This isn't any sort of update. This isn't an announcement. I know I haven't been posting and I haven't been active, so I'm sure to a lot of you, I'm all but gone. For all my talk of "I'm writing this!" and "That's being edited!" I haven't shown you guys anything. I will get to that later. This post is to tell you about my dog and his situation.

That's right! I have a dog! A yorkie. I should have spammed you all with pictures of him. We had gotten him (my mother's idea) to help me through depression. He absolutely loves people, adores meeting new dogs (even if the bigger breeds scare him), and especially kids. He's a people person. He'd sooner lick you to death than ever cause anyone genuine harm. My dog's name is Monty. Monty the Monster. And he's certainly grown into his name when he would play!

Unfortunately, at eleven years old, I guess his time is... running out. You see, last month, we took him to be groomed at a pet store we frequent. When we came home, a couple days later, he would eat less. He wasn't quite as playful, but he was still more or less himself. After stressing about his lack of interest in food, we went to the vet. There, we were told he has a heart murmur, a 3 out of 6 on the scale, I believe. We were recommended to take Monty to a cardiologist and our vet personally recommended one that she had gone to.

The problem is... everything was booked up. Some places we simply couldn't trust with something so delicate. Others were full until next February or March. Last night, my mother had me call one more place and after the call, we were told to come in on emergency. Not ideal but everything was full and we had to get him looked at. His breathing is hard and fast, uncomfortable. Wheezing. A few coughs. Distress in his eyes.

So we left. The place was nice. The people were nice. The problem was what they found: metastatic cancer in the lungs. I appreciated that we were told matter-of-factly. Very straightforward. But I still cried nonetheless. And when we were left alone, I broke down. Our options were this: we give him a few days of medication and see if it helps him. If it improves his quality of living adequately, we could get more medicine. Or... after those few days... we come back and have him euthanized. My mother has looked into other avenues already. Further treatments. Tests.

But I've already made up my mind. It isn't fair for me to put him through all of that just to delay the inevitable. I feel like a horrible owner for thinking that. For saying it. Like I should be moving mountains to give him another week. A month. A year. But I can't. I just can't. I couldn't handle seeing my dog knowing that all I've done is bought him time, time his health has decided he doesn't necessarily have. I struggled going to sleep last night even after crying. I told him over and over that I loved him. That he's my best friend and how much he helped me. These eleven years are too short. Too soon.

So... the reason I'm posting this, the reason I'm saying all of this, is just because I would like you, any of you, to say a prayer or two for Monty. To wish him smooth passage into the afterlife and that he's able to eat all the things he never could. Like chocolate! God, he'd love it if he could have it now.

If there's anything I want left behind, it's this post. I love you, Monty. More than I'll ever love myself or anyone on this earth. You helped me more than medicine or therapy ever could. I love you. I love you. I love you. I hope you get to travel the stars. I hope you make friends. I hope you find grandpa somewhere out there and join him on his adventures.

And to those of you who read this... Thank you. I'm sorry for my silence. I'm sorry for not posting more. I'm sorry for not being here. I'll be here more and more soon. Eventually. Just... not yet.

#Nike Monroe Posts #My late dog Monty #personal

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thearvariblues · 9 months

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Oh, hey, look, it's another Biu-scandal post.

I've been considering and getting ready to write it for a few days now, but so far my words are kinda refusing to word. I decided I would still try, though, because I feel like I need to formulate the thoughts that have been running through my head for the past week.

Just as the last time, if my opinions make you uncomfortable, please feel free to block me and send me hateful anons, it's always a delight! 💙

First things first - yes, I still support Build. Yes, even a week later. No, I have not changed my mind. No, I'm not planning to. No matter his misdemeanors.

So you are IGNORING–

No. I'm not. I am aware of the fact that the things he allegedly said are what we consider shitty, but that doesn't change my opinion of him. At all.

Well I hope you have a REALLY GOOD REASON–

Yes, I have several, thank you for asking!

Reason one - I simply don't require my faves to be morally superior and clean as a freshly fallen snow. He is human. Humans make mistakes. Humans get frustrated and say stupid shit about their friends to another friends, humans talk shit about their job, humans make stupid jokes, humans are simply human. I don't mind finding out that a man I admire has made mistakes because.... I just don't. Sue me. (Please don't. As opposed to Ms. Ombre Pink, I do not have money to pay.)

Reason two - I refuse to judge the level of his shittiness, his homophobia and everything else he's being accused of based on a few out-of-context texts translated by antis who don't even try to make it a secret that they will not stop their bullshit until he either leaves public life, or (preferably) dies by his own hand. Listen, kids, I'm a translator myself, and trust me, I can completely change the meaning of a sentence while technically staying true to it in its bare essence. I can take a vaguely bitchy statement and make you into a monster without breaking a sweat. So excuse me if I don't trust people who are actively trying to destroy him to deliver the most truthful and accurate translations.

Reason three - I won't do anyone's dirty work for them. I have a brain. And I even use it from time to time. (Yayyyyy!) And it just seems... kinda weird that the very moment when Build gets back on his feet, mysterious twitter accounts start popping up and throwing accusations at him until they find something that sticks. They started with private photos, because apparently getting evidence of his relationship with Ombre Pink can turn the fans against him! (Spoiler alert - it did not.) Then they followed up with accusations of him throwing away the remnants of money bouquets - from a year ago, which raises its own questions about for how long has this mysterious person been planning on taking him down. (I'm saying mysterious person, as if we don't know her name starts with P and ends with I, with only one letter in between.) Anyway, this didn't work either, because apparently the fans are okay with him not keeping the wrapping of the gifts they give him. Who would have guessed! Well, the first attempts didn't work, so now we have a new scandal, using the big guns in the form of Bible and Apo's names! That's sure gonna work! And it does. But not on me. Like I said. Sometimes I tend to use my brain. What a shame.

Reason four (but maybe more of a reason 3B) - no matter who is exposing his "crimes", it's very clear to me that this person isn't doing it for our benefit. They don't want to expose Biu as a despicable monster because they don't want the fans to live in a lie or whatever. They are doing it with a very clear and open goal to destroy Build Jakapan. And I will not support that.

Reason five - presumably, all those alleged texts (don't forget that Ombre Pink has forged text conversations before) are from before the breakup, and also presumably from before the famous Phuket trip (and in case you don't know, in the leaked phone call from January, she accuses him of changing after that trip). Now, have you ever met a person who made you change your behavior without even realizing it? I have. Seriously, I know that spending too much time with certain friends makes me a worse person than I usually am. Hell, my mother is a terribly hateful person, and I always have to be careful around her because let me tell you, that hate spreads like a goddamn forest fire. What does this have to do with Build? Oh, nothing. Just a fact that Poi is clearly an extremely hateful, homophobic bitch who hates... you've guessed it, Bible and Apo. Let it sit for a moment.

Reason six - you know what, I think that's been enough reasons, I'm tired of that shit.

My point is this. In the essence, this whole thing is and should have stayed a private matter. It was an ugly, messy breakup after a shitty, clearly abusive relationship.

Listen, it's not coincidence that so many people who have had to deal with a narcissist abuser in their lives took a single look at Poi's behavior (no matter if it was back in January or later on) and went "wait... I know this shit". When you've been through it, you know. Trust me. You know. And it makes you sick in your stomach.

This is, and always has been, a private battle between a man and a woman.

On one side, we have Build, who might have made mistakes, but none of his mistakes are worth being cancelled for. Ever since this whole thing started back in January, he's been staying calm and collected, and he didn't talk shit about his crazy ex even when it could have helped him. Has he leaked their private call and some texts? Yes, but clearly only to clear his name. If you want to hate him for what he's "done", fine. Don't engage with his content. But let us morally fallen monsters enjoy it and support him in peace.

Because remember that on the other side, we have a woman who is openly homophobic (and if you don't see her "he cheated on me, oh god, do I have to get tested for AIDS?!" comment as homophobic, then I really have no words), has been proven to lie and forge evidence on multiple occasions (and had to confess to it) and has used twitter to spill secrets about her ex under the guise of "writing a story" (including, possibly, outing him as bisexual, since her "definitely not inspired by Build" character was bi) and scream at and blackmail him. We also know that as Daemi, she and Yok were being shit to multiple KinnPorsche actors, and they forced Barcode, a minor, to give them massages, claiming that's just a standard in the industry (and then proceeded to make fun of it to a point when Jeff fucking Satur felt the need to step up and say in a livestream that no, it's not a standard, you don't have to do those things, Barcode, you know).

Look. I'm not saying that because she's worse, it makes him an angel. It does not. Like I said, if you hate Build, feel free to, but don't hate on people who still choose to support him. Ignore him, and ignore us. Trust me, we don't want to argue with you all the fucking time.

I'm just begging you to think before you start spreading hate on Biu on the social media. Think who you're serving. Thing whose dirty work you're doing.

And then ask yourself if you are really the morally pure angels if you wish death upon one man and all his supporters because of a few stupid texts.

That's all. Thank you for your attention.

And if you still support Build, remember that I love you all, and you're not alone. 💙

#build jakapan

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rex-spam · 1 year

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Alright!!! i didn't like the way my last post on McPig was phrased and wrote it at like 3AM before bed. Now that I've taken my time to comb through some other stances and look at some other people's viewpoints I think I've settled on a better stance to take.

I still don't support McPig as a dev. Keep in mind I've only seen what was released on the Tumblr post containing screenshots like the ones I've attached here.

As I'm not a member of any discords that McPig is in, I don't have any proof that he's continued to act like the way he did 5 years ago in the current day. I do recognise the screenshot going around that shows he regrets this kind of behaviour.

But even still, he DID still release PT with native American caricatures in it, and Mr. Stick and Mr. Pinch may/are both anti-semitic caricatures as well. This statement was never released publicly either, so I'm taking it as a small comfort at best and I still think there's plenty of valid reason to want to steer clear of the game.

Rumours have been circulating of sprite and mechanic reworks to remove these caricatures from the game, but I've found no solid proof of it. However I do HEAVILY endorse this as a way of apologising and redressing these complaints. Direct action to remedy things people are uncomfortable with and to keep PT accessible to all is the best apology in my eyes, and I really do hope that this is true, but I'm not going to get my hopes up.

So all in all, I'm not going to be giving Pizza Tower any monetary support unless direct action is taken and changes are made. I don't condone or endorse any of the behaviour I've seen and I find it absolutely abhorrent.

However, I recognise that McPig isn't the only face behind Pizza Tower. Tons of beta testers, Sertif's work in programming, Mr. Sauceman and ClascyJitto's ost to name a few have all put incredible amounts of passion and love into this game and I don't want to rob them of that due credit. Nor do I want to say that anybody who supported, or continues to support Pizza Tower, is a bad person! I love the game too. A fantastic community has grown around this game and I'm proud to be part of it; and this isn't the first time a good fanbase has grown around media made by fairly shitty people (see Scott Cawthon, Sr. Pelo, Erin Hunter).

So chances are I'll probably still be drawing Pizza Tower stuff from time to time! I'll be tagging it accordingly, so all those who don't want to associate with the game can blacklist the tag and not associate with it. And I'm not qualified to judge anyone else outside of myself.

I heavily encourage McPig to work with the rest of Tour De Pizza to patch out caricature material in the game itself and to further moderate the Pizza Tower discord against discriminatory material. Until that happens (if it happens at all), I'll be enjoying the game and fanbase from a critical standpoint and without putting money towards the Devs.

Thanks for your understanding guys!

#rex has a chat #pizza tower #tw antisemitism #tw slurs #tw r slur #tw f slur #tw racism #tw bigotry

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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 2 years

Text

One Night is Not Enough Ch. 3

Summary: After spending the day together, will Dean be ready to talk about what brought him to Y/N's door?

Pairings: Dean x Reader

Explicit 18 +/Warnings: Smut. Unprotected sex. PinV. Light fingering. Angst. Lots of angst. Fluff too though. Show level violence described. Mentions of torture.

Word Count: 4,696

A/N: At last, here is the final chapter to this fic. Chapter 1 of this fic was the VERY first thing I ever posted to Tumblr. I'd reblogged a few things, but this story was the first idea I had that I really wanted to share. But for whatever bizarro reason, I got the first two parts out and absolutely just could not write this third part. I knew from the start what I wanted the story to be, so I wasn't stuck for the idea, I can't explain it. But at last this story is complete. I hope you all enjoy it, and for anyone who may have been waiting for this chapter - I'm so very sorry for my misfiring brain.

Mini- Series Masterlist

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Both of the beautiful dividers, here and at the bottom were created by @talesmaniac89.

"Read 'em and weep, Doc."

Dean tossed his five cards on the table and your mouth dropped as you saw the four queens staring up at you coyly.

"How the hell did you do that?" You protested as you tossed down your previously awesome, but now useless, full house. "You were bluffing!"

Dean looked offended. "I was not bluffing, I told you I had a great hand."

Dean raked up the pile of chips from the middle of the table, chips that wouldn't be cashed in for anything but bragging rights.

"But you were bluffing by telling the truth." You argued illogically.

Dean pushed out his lips, and looked up, before shaking his head and continuing to stack his chips. "Nope, you'll have to explain that one."

"You know exactly what you did, Winchester. You knew you had a great hand, but you wanted me to think you were bluffing about having a great hand, so you acted like you accidentally gave away the fact that you had a great hand. But really, you did have a great hand, so you were lying the whole time."

Dean squinted at you. "Phew! Wow! You'll have to explain that again. What did I do?"

"Plus you did your tell." You said, ignoring his request.

"What tell?" Dean asked with a sly smile.

"That thing you do when you're when you have a bad hand. You lick your lips, and sort of chew on the corner of your bottom lip."

Dean did the action action you'd just described. "Or, is this the thing I do when I wanna distract you and watch you squirm in your chair?" He asked, smugly.

Your jaw dropped open again and you squinted your eyes accusatorily. "You don't play fair."

"Oh, and was it fair that every time you reached forward for a new card, you made sure your barely buttoned shirt just happened to reveal a little more of your gorgeous tits?" Dean asked, eyebrows raised.

You gave up the pretense and chuckled. "We should have played strip poker."

Dean's eyes widened. "Uh, yeah we should have. We still can." His eyebrows wiggled cheesily and you giggled.

"No, my ass is killing me from sitting in this hard chair for the last four hours. Let's move over to the couch. We can still remove some clothing, if you want." You teased.

Dean laughed lightly and the sound made you happy. He seemed to be much more at ease. As you'd played poker, and eaten the snacks you made, joking and teasing each other, you could see the tension slowly draining from Dean's shoulders.

He turned now, to look out the window. "Sun's up, I should probably get going."

You tried to hide your crestfallen expression. "But you've barely slept, doesn't seem safe for you to be driving."

He smiled softly. "I've driven on a lot less sleep. But..." He sat up a bit in the chair and looked slightly uncomfortable. He dragged his finger along a small crack in the wooden table.

"But if you don't mind, I'd like to stay a bit longer. "Feels good to be here." There was a beat pause. "With you."

You reached across the table and laid your hand on his. "Dean, stay as long as you want. Stay for a couple days even, a week. Whatever you need. One night is not enough for me." You paused for the same beat. "With you."

His other hand came up to cover yours so that it was sandwiched between his two massive hands. He looked up and smiled at you, softly. He pressed your hand tightly and then stood up.

"I believe I was promised a comfortable couch and partial nudity?"

You stood up and shimmied out of your pajama bottoms so you wore only your flannel shirt with one button done up, and your underwear. "Will this do?"

Dean jumped up and tore around the table toward you, making you laugh loudly as he scooped you over his shoulder.

"Dean! You're wounded!" You shouted. But he ignored you and carried you the short distance to the couch.

As he flopped down onto the squishy cushions, he readjusted you so you were sitting comfortably in his lap. You laid your head against his shoulder, happier and more content than you'd been in a long time.

Your eyes were just closing when Dean startled you awake.

"Oh, holy hell! What the fuck is this?"

His voice was full of laughter and you opened your eyes to see him reaching for the novel you had sitting on the small coffee table.

"Hey!" You shouted, reaching for it. "Give me that!"

But Dean kept it easily out of your reach while he took in the picture on the cover, in which a shirtless man, in very tight pants stood on the prow of a ship, long hair whipping in the imagined wind, while the female protagonist clung to his thigh, breasts mostly pushed out of her flowing gown.

"Love Unbound?" He looked at you. "Seriously? You read this Fabio crap?"

You made a grab for it again. "Shut up, I like it."

Holding it high above his head, he opened the book to a random page in the middle and began reading.

"Esmerelda quivered as Rafe reached out his hand to run his long, smooth fingers along her thigh. Never had she felt such passion, never had she longed so badly to feel lips press against her own. But as Rafe - fuck, really? Rafe? - as Rafe pulled down her bodice, allowing her bounty to spill free -"

Dean snorted and couldn't keep reading, as laughter overtook him.

He reached toward your shirt and pretended to fumble with the button. "Hey, hey - can you please 'allow your bounty to spill free'?"

While he was distracted with his hilarity, you reached up and yanked the book out of his hands. You tossed it back onto the other end of the coffee table and out of his immediate reach.

Not wanting to injure him anymore than he already was, there was no force behind the punch you landed to his shoulder.

"You be quiet. It's a good story, I mean, maybe not the best I've read but I like the adventure."

Dean gave you a look that said he didn't believe you. "Ah, yes of course. You like the adventure; it's not about the porn." He shook his head.

"I didn't say the love scenes hurt the story." You said with a laugh.

Dean grinned at you. "I bet."

"But seriously, that isn't why I read romance novels."

Dean put up his hands. "Okay, I give. What's so great about them?"

You shrugged, shy now. You'd never talked about it with anyone before. "I don't know, I just like them."

Dean cocked his head back. "Come on, Doc, you're not exactly selling them. Make your case; never know, maybe I'll become a major fan."

You shot him a skeptical look, and then shrugged again. "I don't know, I guess...I started reading them when I was taken by the vamps."

Dean's smile evaporated. "What?" He said quietly.

"It's fine, it was a long time ago now. I was just a kid, about fourteen, I guess. They broke into my house and attacked my dad, grabbed me. Plan was to keep me as a blood slave, I suppose. I thought they'd killed my dad and obviously they thought they did too, cause they sure were surprised when Dad and Rufus came busting into their nest. That was how my dad got into hunting. Rufus was a great teacher."

Dean reached his hand up and laid it softly against your cheek, running his thumb across your cheekbone. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. You never told me this."

You ducked your head and nodded. "Yeah, well, it's not exactly a sexy, fun conversation, but you asked."

You looked back at him wondering if you'd altered something in the simple, no strings attached, light and breezy relationship you and Dean had previously shared, and whether it was going to make Dean head for the hills.

But Dean didn't look uncomfortable, or bothered, or anxious to change the subject back to lighter fare. Instead he frowned.

"But how did that lead to a love of cheesy romance?"

You smiled trying to show him that you'd dealt with your fear and trauma, and were very rarely bothered by it anymore. "Well, I was with the vamps for three days before Rufus and Dad came. They fed on me sometimes, but mostly they just left me locked up in the bedroom in the abandoned house they were nesting in."

Dean entwined his fingers with yours, and his instinctive desire to comfort you made you want to kiss him, but you continued.

"The room was kinda gross, and I was too wired and terrified to sleep anyway, so I was happy when I found this old cardboard box in the closet filled with musty old books. Probably ninety-nine percent of them were these cheesy old romance novels just like that one."

You pointed at the book you'd tossed to the other side of the table.

"Some of them were straight up, boy meets girl-next-door stuff, and they were fine. But my favorites by far were the historical adventure ones. I read three or four of them while I was kept there and without fail, every one of them pulled me out and away from the horror I was existing in. They pulled me to a place of stalwart heroes and plucky heroines, where good always won and love always triumphed."

You shrugged, slightly embarrassed by your impassioned defense of the clichéd stories. "I don't know, I just liked them, and they helped me. So, they've stuck with me through the years. I don't know, I guess it's silly."

But Dean shook his head. "No, I get it. For me it was horror movies. You'd think given everything we see I wouldn't want more horror, but in those movies, yeah, I knew the bad guy was gonna lose, in the end. There would always be one good guy or girl left standing, and I knew from a real young age, that in real life, that wasn't always the case."

He shrugged. "So, I get it."

Silence reigned for a minute before Dean sat up, holding you in place while he reached for the book on the end of the table.

You tried to pull it out of his hand. "Dean - " You started, but he cut you off, shaking his head.

"No, hey, lemme try again."

He opened the book again, turning a few pages, and stopping when he found something interesting. His eyes scanned across the words for a few minutes. H

Then without saying a word, he turned you in his lap, so you were facing away from him, and then passed the book to you over your shoulder, pointing to a spot on the page.

"Read that section on page ninety-eight."

With a slightly hesitant smile, you began. "Esmerelda could feel her heart race as Rafe placed soft, delicate kisses across her bare shou-"

You gasped as you felt Dean pull your flannel off your shoulder and begin placing kisses there.

"Keep reading, Doc." He murmured against your skin.

In a breathy voice you continued, trying to concentrate on the words you were reading as Dean continued to follow them like instructions.

"- shoulders. He pulled her hair back, so he could run his tongue up the right side...of...her...neck. When he reached the corner of her delicate jaw, he began to nibble - oh god!"

You paused the narrative as Dean's teeth scraped against your skin. He ghosted his lips across the shell of your ear. "What comes next, sweetheart?"

Biting into your lip, you tried to focus on the page. "Reaching forward, Rafe's hands delved into the billowy robe she wore, cup...cup..." You let out a moan. "...cupping her full breasts with his soft, gentle hands."

Dean's hands were not soft, (worn skin and rough calluses were so much better) but they were gentle. Your voice was high pitched and stuttering as you continued.

"He caressed her nipple with his thumb, plucking the soft bud -" Another deep moan interrupted your recitation. " - making it harden and pucker with Esmerelda's pleasure. As she cried out her need, Rafe moved his hands lower on her body finding the...fuck...buried...Dean, fuck, please...buried treasure within her quivering folds."

Dean was pressing two fingers against your clit. "She's quivering again." He growled into your ear. "Are you quivering, Y/N?"

You threw the book across the room and turned in Dean's arms, reaching for his belt. You yanked it open, and then impatiently pulled at his zipper. Dean lifted his hips so you could get his jeans out of the way.

"Yes, I'm quivering." You said as you grabbed hold of his dick. Dean threw his head back with another growl.

"Make it stop." You ordered as you climbed up on him, grabbing hold his shoulders for balance. Dean held the base of his cock steady as you slid onto it slowly.

When you were fully seated you took a minute, your forehead leaning against his, breathing raggedly into his mouth.

"Sorry, I made you miss the end of the chapter."

Dean chuckled low. "That's okay, show me what happens next."

You began to rock yourself back and forth against him, swiveling your hips. You grabbed Dean's hands and put them on your tits. "Squeeze them."

Dean did as you told him, and you began to rise and fall on the length of his dick. "Fuck yes, just like that." You mumbled.

"And does Rafe do this to Esmerelda?" Dean leaned forward and licked across your nipple with just the tip of his tongue. "And this?" He asked as he nipped gently at your skin.

You nodded and then threw your head back, rising and falling faster and faster. You wrapped his short hair around your fingers so you could tug his head to the side and suck deep bruises into the thick column of his neck.

Dean dropped his hands from your waist so he could grab handfuls of your ass and squeeze, hard enough that you knew you'd have the shape of his hand imprinted on your skin. Then he took over the work, lifting you and the slamming you back down on him.

You knew you were both close so, reaching behind you, you found his balls and squeezed gently, forcing a harsh groan out of Dean's throat.

Following suit, Dean brought one hand forward to tweak your nipple before pressing the pad of his thumb against your clit. It was all you needed to let out a scream of pleasure and fall over the edge. Your hand that was still in Dean's hair tugged hard, eliciting another pleasured grunt from deep in his throat.

Burying his face in your neck he slammed up into you as your cunt convulsed around him, finally pulling him over the edge, and milking him through his whole high.

Finally, you fell onto him and you both fell back against the arm of the couch, panting and slicked with sweat.

Dean's voice was full of gravel and his breathing was harsh as he spoke.

"Best. Book. Ever."

***

The rest of the day was fantastic, the best you'd had in a long time. After your story time, you both moved over to the bed and fell asleep for a few hours wrapped up in each other's arms.

Then you spent the afternoon, trading poker chips back and forth, neither of you paying much attention to the game, instead sharing stories, laughing together at the cases that were crazy, or just straight up weird, quietly confessing about the cases that hurt you, or left a mark.

But all the time you were talking, you noticed that Dean still wouldn't say anything about the case that had brought him there the night before. Not wanting to hurt him or push him, you just let him skirt around it.

For supper, Dean made burgers over the open grill outside the cabin. After the storm the night before, the day was beautiful and bright, and you both decided you'd eat on the little porch that hung off the front of the cabin. You dragged the kitchen chairs out and feasted on burgers and beer, letting a companionable silence fall over you both.

Finally, as the sun began to set, and the crickets started chirping, Dean cleared his throat.

"So, about a week ago, we started hearing that there was a demon tearing things up in this little town, in Iowa. So, Sam and I hopped into the car, and headed down there. Everything seemed like pretty routine demon stuff, seemed like just the general mayhem and chaos they like to cause. But then Sammy spotted a pattern."

You could see Dean's jaw clenched tightly, and you remained absolutely silent and still, not wanting to spook him out of talking.

"This demon was taking down a family. It was hard to notice right away because they were really distant relations to start. Like cousins twice removed and shit, but slowly but surely it was narrowing in on this family. The Clark family."

He took a swig from his beer and he was quiet for a couple minutes; you let him take his time, simply taking a sip from your own beer. Finally he started again, and it seemed for a moment that he was changing subjects.

"I don't know how much...I mean, I know you know some of my story just from...around, maybe some from Rufus or Bobby? But I don't know what you know. Do you know that I was in...uh...that I went to..."

He ran a hand down his face.

"Hell." You whispered softly. "Yes, I know."

Without looking at you, he nodded.

In the same soft tone you clarified something. "It was forty years, right? In hell? The time is different there, right?"

He nodded again, and the truth of his pain made your eyes fill with tears that you willed away. "I'm so sorry, Dean."

He shook his head, twitching his hand toward you. "No, it's fine...I mean, I've been back nearly four years now, so...it's okay...I mean, I've dealt with it."

You thought that was highly unlikely simply because you couldn't imagine anyone "dealing" with forty years of hell and torture.

"So," he cleared his throat again, "so, you know I was in hell, but...do you know..." He fell silent again for a minute.

He shifted in his chair, leaning forward and setting his beer on the ground, leaning his elbows on his knees, and letting his hands dangle between them. His head was low as he spoke again.

"Do you know what I did there?"

Confusion settled on your brow and your voice was soft. "I know...I mean, I know you were tortured."

Dean nodded. "Yes, but not what they did to me, but..." He paused and ran his hands through his hair.

"They offered me a chance to get off the rack, if I started torturing souls, and I took it. I...tortured them."

You felt bile rise in your stomach at the fiendish, perfect cruelty of that system. You knew that all demons had been human souls before going to hell and being twisted. And it made perfect sense to you now, just how that happened.

What was amazing to you, was that in spite of all of that, in spite of forty years of varying forms of torture, Dean's soul was still this bright, shining thing. It was battered, maybe, scarred yes, but still bright, still beautiful.

He looked over at you in the continued silence and you could see his guilt, his trepidation, his worry that you were going to judge him. You reached across the small space between you and took hold of his hand.

You squeezed it, and as he had done for you earlier that morning, you entwined your fingers with his. He looked down at your joined hands and you could see him swallowing quickly, as a soft smile curved up the corners of his mouth. He raised your fingers to his lips and kissed them before continuing.

"So, when I started...when I said yes to the deal, the first soul they put in front of me was a woman. It's hard to describe what it's like...the soul isn't a body, it doesn't have a body, but as a part of the torture, the soul is given the illusion of one, so that it can be chipped away at, cut and torn, and burned, and the soul feels the pain, as it would if the body was real."

Dean was breathing a little roughly and he squeezed your hand before dropping it to move away from you, leaning against the wooden post on the porch, and looking out across the yard and into the dark forest beyond, leaving you only able to see his profile.

"The first soul on my table was a woman named Alice Clark. She was there because she'd sold her soul for her son. During my...time...with her..." Dean rubbed his hand across his mouth as though he was trying to wipe away a bad taste.

"I found out her that her son had been dying, some kind of cancer, when he was a teenager, and she'd made the deal to save him. She spent the next ten years getting to see him graduate and get married, and then the hounds came to rip her away. She was there for the same reason I was, because she loved someone too much to let them leave the world."

He swallowed convulsively again, and you watched a tear spill over his long lashes and course down his cheek, and you let your own tears flow.

"But none of that mattered to me. She was this sweet looking, kinda plump woman, and she burned bright. She was beautiful...and I tore her apart."

Tears fell fast down his cheeks now and you couldn't stop yourself from walking to him and wrapping your arms around his waist, resting your head against his chest. You could hear his heart thumping rapidly.

"So, I tortured her, and she moved off my table and further into the bowels of hell, and I moved on to the next soul. That was four years ago, so roughly four hundred and eighty years ago in hell."

Dean pulled out of your arms, running his hand down his face, wiping away all traces of tears. He began pacing up and down the porch. "So, Alice was in hell for well over four hundred years, and when she came out, she was fully a demon. A demon who wanted to exact revenge. But not on me..."

Dean's voice was barely above a whisper, and you moved closer to hear him over the sounds of the night.

"...on her son."

You frowned. "Her son?"

Dean nodded. "Yes, the twisted demon she turned into blamed him for being in hell. So she crawled out, and started killing off every single member of his and his wife's family, letting the terror of what was happening to them slowly zero in on them until it was just the four of them left. Tim, that was her son, his wife Jessie...and their two little boys."

You clamped a hand to your mouth. Oh dear God, you thought.

Dean seemed to read your mind and he shook his head. "Sam got the boys out, but they have no one now. Not a single member of their family is left."

He began pacing again, fists clenching at his sides. "By the time we got to the house, we'd pieced together what was happening, and I knew it was all on me. She had Tim and Jessie trapped, and I knew she could snap their necks with a wave of her hand, so I tried to reason with her, tried to remind her that everything she'd been through was because she'd loved her son so much."

You remembered what he'd been calling out in his sleep, during his nightmare. Please...Alice...God, please...don't! He'd been pleading with her again in his dreams, begging for a different outcome.

Dean stopped pacing and leaned against the porch rail, arms wide.

He shook his head. "But none of that meant anything to her anymore, and I watched her snap their necks like kindling. I lunged forward, tried to get her with the knife before she could do it, but it was a split second."

Dean's jaw was clenched so tightly, you feared it was going to crack. "I did stab her, killed her and the meatsuit she was possessing, finished what I started." He shook his head and mumbled toward the ground. "Couldn't let her smoke out and go after those boys."

The silence reigned for a long time. Finally Dean went and sat back in his chair, picking up his beer and downing the last of it. You sat down beside him and reached out for his hand again. His hand met yours in the middle and you squeezed it tight.

All the words you had seemed frivolous and stupid in the face of what Dean had been through.

In the end, you offered the one piece of solace you could think of. "You know, you honored Alice's original choice, her original sacrifice."

Dean looked at you, a deep frown etching his brow. "What do you mean?"

"Those little boys. Alice wanted Tim to live, she wanted him to live beyond her, and that's what those boys will do. They'll live lives and carry on their father's and their grandmother's hopes for them. So, you may think you lost, but you didn't lose everything."

Dean didn't respond at first, just looked back out towards the forest. But then he nodded. "Yeah, I'm glad we got 'em out."

"What will happen to them now?" You asked.

"That's where Sammy is, he's bringing them to a husband and wife hunter we know, good people. They said they were happy to take them, always wanted kids, but couldn't have 'em. So...they should be good, I hope." He nodded. "And me and Sammy will check in with them from time to time, make sure they're good. I owe them that at least."

You allowed the night to fall soft and quiet around you both again, keeping hold of Dean's hand and trying to push the love you had for this remarkable man through the tips of your fingers and into his consciousness.

Finally when the stars were high up in the sky and twinkling brightly, you stood up and tugged on Dean's arm. He followed you into the cabin quietly, seemingly happy to let you take the lead as you brought him over to the bed and pushed him down on it.

You pulled off his boots and then pulled back the covers. "Climb under." You ordered him gently and he listened. You made sure the fire was stoked and you turned off the lights before climbing in beside him.

As you stretched out next to him, you looked at his profile in the moonlight and marveled at the absolute strength and beauty to be found there. He turned his head towards you and then, wrapping his hand around the back of your head, he pulled you to him, placing the gentlest of kisses on your lips.

"I told you, Doc, you heal me. I came here bleeding and you patched me up. And I'm not talking about bullet wounds."

You leaned forward and kissed him a little deeper, running your fingers soothingly through his hair. "I will always be here if you need me, Dean."

He smiled at you, his face soft and sleepy. "So you don't mind that I'm staying another night?"

"What did I tell you?" You asked in mock annoyance.

"Right," Dean chuckled softly. "One night isn't enough." He pulled you tight against him and spoke gently against your temple.

"Guess I'll have to stay awhile then."

Jensen RPF + Any/All characters Jensen plays.

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Masterlist

Tag Lists

#dean x y/n #dean x reader #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester smut #spn fan fic #mini series #dean winchester #dean winchester angst

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legendsobsessions · 8 months

Note

Hello! I am doing my best to send love and comfort through the inbox to you and your roommate! However long it takes for the problems to get sorted out, know that I am praying to Dialga that you both remain very well, bui!

@whimsical-westbrook

hi. appreciate the kindness, really I do. (we're both sorry for taking so long to get to this ask. you will most likely understand why before this post is complete. cynthia has just been procrastinating, but I, well...)

it's been a bit since I've actually made a post on this blog. not without reason. last thing I want to do is make people uncomfortable.

I... want to talk to people, without them holding my past against me. but at the same time there is nothing I yearn for more than talking to someone who gets it, and there is a part of me who desperately wants to tear the mask off and just deal with the consequences.

it isn't as if my particular... situation... isn't something approaching common knowledge in cynthia and I's corner of the multiverse. and there are always going to be people who hold the actions of my past against me, and people who want nothing to do with me because of that—and really, that is nothing more than fair. it isn't as if I don't understand that far too well.

the most crucial detail here, however, is that... as far as I am aware, no one here on rotomblr shares a universe with us.

(and over the past few days, I have come to the conclusion that I don't care if anyone does. keeping this hidden has caused cynthia far more grief than anything else, and... it's time.)

I introduced myself to you all as nova, they/them pronouns.

perhaps it is time that I reintroduce myself as cyrus. they/them pronouns. yes, I am that cyrus, and provided any questions you ask aren't unnecessarily rude regarding my past... I will answer them to the best of my ability.

(the galactic incident took place over a decade ago, for the two of us. please do keep that in mind.)

in any case, once again: I do appreciate the kindness, and I fully understand if you would like to rescind it given who I really am.

but I don't want to keep hiding. I don't want to keep stressing my best friend out like this, either.

(if you would rather interact with cynthia and not me, I will respect that. really, it is the least I can do.)

#rotomblr #pokeblogging #pokeblog rp #pokemon irl

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creaturefeaster · 1 year

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new day new morning post

Currently 06:55 PST as I begin this post.

Does anyone else listen to The Cure? They're touring this year overseas, the last time they did was 8 years ago. I'm going in June to see them live, and I'm very excited. When buying tickets with my husband, I remarked that a The Cure concert is probably one of the only places I could be where people wouldn't stare at me (my fashion is what I'd call dark and loud)-- something I found funny.

On top of this, I was asked if I wanted to get a tattoo for my birthday. I have been considering a tattoo for a while now, though I've been on the fence because the idea of putting something permanent on my body is a hard hurdle to get over in my brain. Or moreso, I'd just want to make sure it isn't something I would regret down the line. I'm considering imagery of things I've always loved; Cow skulls, roses & thorns, eyes, a few things that cross my mind that are also pretty safe and hard to get wrong on a tattoo.

Maybe I'll find someone to help design a tattoo for me. That'd be fun. But also perhaps difficult when there's only a couple of weeks left until my birthday. Much to think about.

Speaking of much to think about, I succumbed to one of my usual dreams of dire last night. I have always been a nightmare dreamer, usually about zombie invasions, or an indescribable entity that kills the population in swathes. Tonight though, it was a dream about someone who was considered to be so perfect (for reasons I don't know. the guy was kind of a dick imo), that there was a mad chase to both capture this guy, and also keep him safe from harm.

My dream ended sort of abruptly near the end. I don't remember much about the details of the dream, other than that it was a lot of sneaking around in the dark. One of the ending scenes though was someone attacking this 'perfect guy,' completely severing his hand and pulling his arm so harshly you could see it hanging from the ligaments that attached it to his shoulder.

People in my group, that I was apparently in, flipped the fuck out and decided the only way to balance justice in this situation was to axe the attacker right in the forehead. The gore was excessive!

I'm not sure why this dream was so brutal and graphic. But I have awoken quickly because of it, meaning I can start my day early and more awake. I'll take it.

...

RE: To follow up with my little grumbles in my last morning post, nobody is harassing me. That hasn't happened in years. It's moreso an influx of people either messaging me and begging me to come back, or people messaging me asking if they can have my ask blogs. Both insensitive considering that I feel I've been pretty clear on my stances with the blog & fandom. But also everyone gives the fandom too much credit for making me pull away from the show. One of the biggest things for me was some of the more recent stuff they had in the show that made me feel so sickened, I just couldn't enjoy it anymore.

I've considered recently just unfollowing people who post about the show on the regular, or even blocking some, because tumblr reallllly likes to recommend me blogs just loaded with SP content still, and it's starting to get on my nerves. That, and the more I think on what happened in the show, the more it makes me uncomfortable to be around people who just pretend it never happened/ignore it.

...

Anyways, this is more than I wanted to say on the subject already. I'm over it for now.

P.S. By the way, I loved reading from you guys how you've all been doing. Some left replies, some sent me asks, some DMed. It's nice to know what people around me have going on :3.

Here's this morning's question: What's the latest dream you can remember having?

#yknow spacehey was going to be the place for these rambles #and i love that site still don't get me wrong #but i ran into some issues that make it hard for me to use #so i guess for now until i figure that all out #i continue to ramble here

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peculiarreality · 2 years

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So I feel like I should say something about the lack of actual content being posted on my blog lately.

See, I've been working on a lot of things. Fics, AUs (seeing that commercial with Taymour as a spy Did Things to me), even minor ideas for art. Sadly, most of these things barely last because I run out of steam. I've recently had the fortune to get into a Sea of Thieves art related group, though, and I've noticed that because of it, I'm starting to actually complete art project things related to pirates, and I think I know what I'm missing in most of my other works, the ones that have never seen the light of day.

Interaction and a sense of community.

Now, not necessarily likes or reblogs (though those help, especially reblogs with comments or tags! But as someone who tends to not reblog myself, for various reasons, I get why they might not, and people uncomfortable with reblogging are absolutely valid.) But a sense of... IDK, community, I guess? The Left 4 Dead community is shrinking, it seems, and Versus is full, last I heard, of toxic people who kick people for the crime of being new to the game mode or for dying in ways that are just plain unlucky. The Nellis subsection of the fandom is even smaller, and I'm sure it's decided, in new fans anyway, to make a home on TikTok like so many other fandoms. But there's no sense, to me, that we're an actual community. And IDK about anyone else, but this dumbass bi has discovered that maybe they're an introvert, but they like feeling like there's a community in their fandoms.

It sucks and it's demotivating to realize that I can make art for other fandoms no problem (hell, even Monkey Island, a game only a couple years younger than yours truly, has a fairly active, if small, community on both Reddit and Discord), but for one of my original fandoms, which is near and dear to my heart, I lose motivation because I know I'm not going to end up having conversations about my work most of the time. I'm not going to end up talking to someone who wants to know how I did something in SFM, or who did something I want to learn in SFM. I'm going to get a few likes, maybe a reblog with some tags... And while I appreciate it, while it sparks joy to see notes at all in this fandom, it's demotivating. Couple that with my recent return to Fallout 4 obsession (Jake from Sim Settlements, my beloved 🥺) and my new job, and I just don't feel like I've got time to make anything for the fandom anymore, because it feels like there's no one to share it with.

And I'd like to stress something.

While I like getting notes, this has nothing to do with funny, somewhat meaningless, digital numbers.

It has everything to do with the fact the Nellis community feels like it's dying out.

And it sucks. Because Nellis was one of my first fandoms. Because I've made friends in our fandom, but it still feels like we're scattered haphazardly.

It feels lonely.

And even though I'm a bit of a loner and an introvert, I don't like being lonely.

#pecs rants about:#fandom #fandom loneliness #left 4 dead 2 #nellis l4d2 #nick/ellis l4d2 #there's just no sense that we're a connected community anymore #and it pains me to say it

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aprilsadviceaskblog · 15 days

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tw, just talking about obsession with fp, mention of past grooming (not in any detail)

I'm looking for advice and maybe some opinions on the situation

I need help with detaching from my fp. And I'm not sure where to start, and I'm scared to let go.

For context, I'll write the important parts of my story with this person.

He's a mutual friend, we've never been close. The moment I've met him I thought it would just be a crush but i was so damn wrong. He's the first cis guy who I feel never treated me any differently because I'm a trans man. I helped him kick out a groomer from his band after we found out his intentions, I was later groomed by said guy and my fp offered to help me report him which I unfortunately declined (and also lied to his face that I wasn't being groomed because I so embarrassed about it). That simple act of kindness just made my attachment worse.

He found out I "liked" him later, and politely declined me because he's straight. He was so nice about it which didn't help stop my obsessive tendencies and soon enough he realized it was more than a little crush. He quietly cut me off but we still hung around the same people and he was never rude to me.

I started realizing I went too far and I talked with him at one social gathering back in December last year. I apologized for everything, said I was aware I've crossed his boundaries, that he didn't deserve it and that i didn't expect forgiveness but I was letting him know I was aware of how far I went amd the guilt was eating me alive (I knew names of his family members, had pics of him saved, drew him a lot and he found out after somebody told him). He listened quietly, then slightly smiled and said that it's okay, we all fuck up sometimes and that everything is okay in between us. He was much more mature about everything than I was, I don't think I even deserved to be forgiven so easily. I thanked him and that was it. We had more pleasant interactions after that and things seem to be better.

But I know my obsession hasn't gone away, I still haven't deleted pictures of him I have, I still draw him, I still make harmless jokes about him but they just prove I still think about him all the time. I feel really bad because I promised I won't make him uncomfortable anymore. In a few days marks one year since I've met him and my life changed because he introduced me to so many new people from our friendgroup. I don't think he realized how much of an impact he had on me.

I just want to see him as a normal mutual friend. He's a very sweet person and tolerated me way more than he had to. I'm sick of my whole life and emotions relying on a person I barely even talk to.

Please help.

I wrote a post on having healthy relationships (platonic or romantic) with a FP, and I think some of it may be helpful. It's here.

In case you don't want to read that, I will share the most relevant points here.

"One of the first things is that even though it may be uncomfortable, diversify your relationships! Have different people that you have different similarities with. For example, maybe you really love a certain show, well making friends in the fandom might be a way to have someone to talk to about that interest.

Focus on your own hobbies. It's important to try and find a way to be happy on your own.

Practice your DBT skills. There are so many different skills useful for different situations. Here is a page I am working on of definitions of different skills. If one skill doesn't work for you, please don't give up on DBT skills. I've tried a lot of different skills, and a lot of them don't work for me but some work really well."

I might also treat the obsession to draw and stuff like that kind of like an urge? When you get the urge to do it, maybe try practicing your urge surfing?

Radical Acceptance might also be useful.

If anyone else has any advice, please feel free to share it. I feel a bit stuck on advice here!

#tw obsession #tw grooming #april answers

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venerable-sun · 1 year

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Mångata (Nuidis Vulko x Reader) Pt. 2

Nuidis Vulko (Aquaman) x reader

TW: None

1300~ words

Part One | Part Three

I've pretty much written about half of this series already, so I 'll be dropping the next parts every other day. I'll also be making a series masterlist post with the pinterest board and spotify playlist I made if anyone is interested in checking those out.

I'd also like to shoutout @ficsations on ao3 for inspiring this story! Go check out their story "It All Began By The Shore"!

A loud crash from downstairs wakes you.

You quickly throw on a linen robe and stumble down the stairs to see your living room empty. The glass of water you’d left on the table lay shattered on the floor, the strange man nowhere to be found.

You tentatively stepped forward to search the room further, only to be pushed back against the wall by an unseen force.

You grunt as your back meets the wood, an elbow digging uncomfortably into your throat.

“Who are you, and why am I here?” A gravelly voice asks, and your eyes meet the deepest blue you’ve ever seen.

“I saw you on the beach, in the storm.” You wheeze out. “You were injured, so I brought you here.”

The man glanced down at the bandage you’d wrapped around his ankle before hesitantly letting you go. You cough as your lungs welcome air back into your body, guilt crossing the man’s face briefly before he hardened it once again. “You didn’t answer the first half of my question. Who are you?”

“My name is (Y/n).” You eye his scale-like costume. “But I think I should be the one asking you that.”

A knock at the door distracts you before he can answer, and you peer out the peephole to see your uncle standing on the porch. When you turn back around, the man is gone. The door to your porch is wide open, the breeze from outside moving the curtains lazily.

Your uncle knocks again and you open the door to let him in.

“What the hell happened to you?” He says. “You look like you stayed up all night.”

You chuckle, going to close the porch door before he asks why it was open. “The storm kept me up, or something like that.”

Thomas eyed you suspiciously. “Something like that?”

You ignore his question, going to grab the broom and dustpan to sweep up the broken glass. “I just forgot how loud the wind can be this high up on the cliffs. That’s all.”

For some reason, you don’t want to tell him about your mystery man. What would you say, that you’d rescued some strange man that had been swimming in the ocean during a storm, wearing strange clothes, and then brought him to your home? Even to you, it sounds crazy.

Crazy and reckless.

You sigh, your limbs still tired and sore. “Thank you for coming to check on me, but I’m alright.”

You plaster on your most concing smile, hoping that he’d leave and you go after the mysterious man.

Your uncle looks at you closely, seemingly unconvinced for a moment before nodding his head and saying goodbye. You wait a few minutes to make sure he’s really gone before running outside once again, this time welcomed by warm sunshine instead of freezing rain.

Waves lap lazily at the shore as you walk along the beach, not a soul in sight. As you near the place you found the man laying yesterday, you spot a strange stick half-buried in the sand not far away.

You pull it out with little difficulty, the blade at one end shining in the sun as you turn it in your hands. It looks to be a staff of some sort, definitely a weapon. Who the hell is this guy?

You look out over the sea, its calm surface a huge contrast to the violent waves of last night. Hunger gnaws at your belly, and you begin the ascent back to your house with the staff still in your hand, unaware of the eyes following you from within the waves.

~~~

The next week passes by with little excitement.

You finish cleaning out the house, donating most of your parents’ old things to charity. The rest of your belongings arrive, and you spend an entire day unpacking your substantial book collection, making sure that they filled the bookshelves in the exact way you liked. You prepare for your new job at the high school, drafting up lesson plans and coming up with projects you hope the students would find interesting. You even manage to find someone to come tune your piano, and play it every night before going to sleep.

And you go to the beach every day at sunset, hoping the mysterious man will return.

You know you just let the incident go, acknowledge the situation as a story you’ll never know the ending of, but you just can’t. When you sleep, you’re haunted by his ocean-blue eyes and the sound of his voice.

Why are you so hung up on him? You hadn’t even shared more than a few words, for christ’s sake.

When your uncle slyly suggested that you try dating somebody in town, you’d vehemently refused, the image of the stranger’s handsome face in your mind.

As you walk down the cliff stairs, you brace yourself for disappointment once again, only to stop in surprise.

The man stands at the edge of the shores, waves just barely reaching his feet. You approach slowly, feet sinking into the sand as you make your way towards him.

His hands are clasped behind his back as he turns to you, his hair tied up in a bun and the same scale-like clothes on.

You stop a few paces away from him, uncertainty brewing in your stomach. Now that you’re finally faced with him once again, you have no idea what to say or what to expect.

“I came to apologize.” The man says, taking a step towards you. “You helped me and I threatened you in your own home.”

He stands in front of you now, then presses a fist to his heart and drops to one knee. “I thank you arduously for saving me. I owe you a great debt.”

He takes your hand and kisses the back of it, sending shivers up your spine as his cool lips press against your skin.

“I-it was no trouble at all. You don’t owe me anything.” You stutter, reluctantly pulling your hand away to try and distract him from your blush. “But I would like to know your name, and how you got caught up in that storm.”

“My name is Nuidis Vulko, my lady.” He stands and bows, and all hopes of your blush going away evaporate. “And I was out searching for someone when my leg got caught in that lobster trap.”

“Nuidis…” you test out the name. “You’re not from around here, are you?” It comes out as a statement more than a question.

He smiles handsomely. “Beautiful and smart. No, I am not. I come from the kingdom of Atlantis, where I serve as royal advisor to the king.”

You shake your head in disbelief, but for some strange reason, you find yourself believing him. Maybe you are crazy. “That would… certainly explain a lot. Who was it that you were looking for?”’

“A prince who has been putting off his responsibilities for long enough,” Vulko says, pleased that you’ve taken this information in stride. A strand of hair falls into your face from the breeze, and his fingers twitch as he stops himself from reaching forward and tucking it behind your ear. The sun sinks lower to the horizon, reminding him that he must return before Orm gets suspicious of his whereabouts.

“I must depart, my lady,” he says reluctantly. “But it was a pleasure to be in your presence once more.”

He grasps your hand, pressing a lingering kiss to the back again before starting to walk into the waves.

“Wait!” You call after him. “I have your staff.”

He looks back at you, tries to capture in his memory how your long hair shines in the sun’s rays, how your skin glows in the light. He smiles.

“Then I suppose I will have to return to you once more, my lady.”

#texts #nuidis vulko x reader #nuidis vulko #aquaman x reader #aquaman #justice league #dceumovies #reader insert #mangata

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every1sno1fangirl · 8 months

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Happy Hifuumo Friday everyone! Today's post is a little late, but that's okay.

We're starting off with an unofficial sort of 'sequel' picture to a previous one. It feels appropriate, since I've chosen this time to go back to the same place.

Though this time, I've chosen to explore more areas of it—and there are still more of them that I have not given how big it is. But next week I will be going somewhere else entirely (I'm not sure where yet though!)

Specifically, I'm going on a very belated birthday lunch with my Grandma because she hadn't realized mine had passed. I asked her if she wanted to join me for one of my trips in doing so, and she said that she would do her best to keep up with me despite her age.

So I want to pick somewhere nice and small-ish, so she won't be walking very much.

She's one of the few people I know IRL (Not that there are many) who even knows about these trips. She thought they were very cute and good for me.

Speaking of and for those who have ever been curious about it; it seems like I walk roughly 3 miles on my trips.

Obviously that isn't as good as working out, but I think going out once a week and managing that is pretty respectable, don't you think?

Especially since I'm meeting so many cool people and seeing so many cool things. I'm getting better at taking photos too. When I was taking a picture of that buffalo statue someone said I should invest in getting an actual camera.

I don't think I will, simply because it's one more thing that could get lost on these trips and I'm a pretty forgetful person, but it made me smile all the same.

I would rather invest in stuff to make my existing camera (my phone) better as one.

Maybe a selfie stick to get different angles? Maybe a tripod so I could take videos without my shaky hands ruining them? I'm not sure...

It's something for me to think about.

So long as I keep having fun with this, that is all that matters. It's really helped me too, even if I still don't know what to do in social situations or around animals. Just how oppressive some of my anxieties could be stepping outside of my door are less so now.

When I was eating lunch a homeless woman was really insistent on talking to and hanging out with me. On some level I appreciated the company, especially when we had talked about how different the area has become. But on other levels...

Well, I declined the roll of quarters she tried to foist upon me and she muttered some stuff about Jesus & Armageddon and how I shouldn't trust anyone and how I would definitely need those quarters more than her 'sometime soon'.

She also tried to give me alcohol.

I kept my mouth shut considering who I am but ultimately it was still a good time, even if a mildly uncomfortable one near the end.

Ending the day with some fish and chips was still really nice though.

I love you all, I hope you have a great day/night!

As an aside, this is the only Jesus I recognize.

Iesua Nazarenus

She is from the fangame 'The Last Comer' and she has a really kick-ass theme called 'Mankind Salvation Plan ~ The Greatest Salvation'. It's a good game with a good representation of Jesus. You should check it out!

#hifuumo friday #hifuu club #touhou #maribel hearn #renko usami #iesua nazarenus #the last comer #fish and chips

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wanderrlust0 · 8 months

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sorry i wont shut up about this but i feel so conflicted right now!!D; and maybe typing it all out will help???

and I highly suggest to not read this unless you want to be here for an hour reading nonsense LOL

im seeing my bestie friday so im gonna tell her everythinggg and get her opinion on all of this before i see him again in a few days.

i just started to hang out with a "new" friend but it makes my bf uncomfortable and idk what to do about it... and tbh im not going to stop being friends with them:/ ik that sounds kinda shitty on the surface but its like asking me to cut someone off right after getting to know them.

im gonna explain almost all of the context....

okay, so... 2020 was a ruff year. it was covid and quarantine. my mom was super super strict about it. once people began to hang out in small circles bc cdc said it was okay to, while still being careful, i was still not allowed to leave my house. i felt soso isolated and alone and it was def one of my lowest moments. me & my bf were basically in a long distance relationship.. or thats what it felt like. all we had was facetime. he started to hang out with his friend from school more often (i had stuff to say to him about that & its in another post). after a couple of months, my mom finally let us see each other.. but it had to be in my backyard only and we couldn't be close. it was okay at first but after a while we got bored and wanted more. he got impatient and petty about it. i understood where he was coming from but i was trying to be as optimistic as i could, even tho it was hard. its bc even for like the 1-2 hrs i got to see him, it made my day. (my friends were also starting to hangout in their backyards but i never told my mom bc i figured she wouldnt let me go.. but when i told her afterwards, she said she would have..??)

it was getting colder outside which made it harder for us to see each other. it was also just a sucky situation and it was creating some resentment. he wanted to talk with me on ft about it and i knew it would be serious. AND IT WAS. he did most of the talking and it was leading to a breakup. BUT (this is important) he couldnt for the life of him break up with me, let alone say the words.. SO.. he suggested that we do a break. neither of us have done that before but its obvious that it means its temporary and you use that time to figure things out and get some space (we DEFINITELY shouldve been clearer about it). he got emotional and i held mine in. he was saying all these good things about me and how he still wants me in his life and that we can get together again; that we would still talk everyday and be friends. at the time, weve been dating for about a year and a half. right after we hung up i bawled my eyes out and immediately facetimed my best friend in FL.

days go by and me and him are still talking everyday, only in a more friendly, platonic manner. eventually, he starts replying later and later, he turns off his location, and its like i feel forgotten about. im so used to knowing what hes doing that now it feels weird to not know and its hard to adapt to these changes.

I download tinder to find some FRIENDS to talk to (only for girls). he was barely talking to me and i was questioning our friendship relationship (situationship i guess). although i dont remember the details of my profile, i DEF made it clear that i was on there for making friends only. i had no intention of pursuing anyone for a relationship... bc i had my "bf" still. HE clearly went a diff route during our break....too much to unpack there but in the end, it just made him want to come back to me.

So.... Snow (that is their nickname ive given them for tumblr) was one of those people who i chatted with on tinder. theyre female but identify as they/them (i dont think they used those pronouns when we first started talking tho). they msgd first and our convo was actually really long-lasting so we followed each other on IG. (theyre also not the only one i've exchanged IG with so its not like i only gave it to them). Yes, I thought they were pretty when i swiped. sue me. i think many people are pretty. its just me acknowledging when someones aesthetically pleasing. eventually, we talked less and i also went on tinder less. After about a month into me and my bfs break, he begins to talk to me more like he used to. Then he asks if he can see me bc he missed me. Still cant leave my house with him but we hang out and its nice. HE ASKS ME IF I MET ANYONE NEW. i say no and hes like ...really?you sure? I ask him the same and he says no (while breaking eye contact,, literal red flag but i was blindsided). he tells me the truth over FT and that ruined me way more than i let on. (i think he's feeling a similar way now but for diff reasons)

we got back together after and the rest of the year (2021) was super fun. weve now been together for almost 4 1/2 years! since our BREAK NOT BREAKUP (not me @ ing him when he wont even see this) me and snow comment on each others IG posts now and again. for ex, ive said they looked so prettyyy & i would compliment their makeup skills. they would reply in a cute/flattery way. thats how they reply to comments. theyre also very embellished, like with emojis. theyve commented on my pics saying i look cute and hyping me up with compliments as well. it just turned into a natural, mutual thing; idk how else to describe it. its like having an online friend where you only interact thru the comments to show kindness. LOL IDK that sounds corny but yeah. girly things i guess. & then irl its so subdued.

so aside from the comments, we would react to each others stories like once in a blue moon. they posted about watching demon slayer so i said its a good anime. i posted me and my bfs halloween costumes and they said we looked so cute. fast fwd to the end of last yr... we said happy bday to each other and i brought up the idea of possibly hanging out one day if theyre down. so yes, i asked first. they said they would love to and that they were glad i asked bc they were too anxious to ask themselves (mood). im surprised at myself that i even asked but i guess i felt comfortable enough.

(i feel like im writing my own biography omg..) anyways, we get each others numbers and talk about our schedules. we were both very busy so nothing happened. we sporadically made small talk, as one does with their internet friend, over a couple of months. we talked on IG more & also thought about the plans for when we hang out. its now like almost summer and they text me asking if i was free last minute to hang out bc they were gonna be in my town but i was busy.

its now like a month later and i see them at the mall with their friend when i was with my bf. (i already spoke about this so i wont repeat it). after that day, we finally made a day to hang out. bf wasnt happy about it; i tried to reassure him; he saw and still sees them as someone to worry about; he thinks im gonna do something stupid and act out on any fantasies i may have. he knows im bi; he sees snow as someone who looks queer. he thinks that our intentions are to get closer to each other in a way that crosses a friendship.

he saw me listening to a playlist titled sapphic energy. it just consists of songs i enjoy by female artists and ive had that playlist for a long time now. i only edited the title.. but just now i switched it back to what it was before so thats ONE thing "fixed" to make him at ease.

he doesnt believe me when i tell him that my only intention and motive here is to make a good, new friendship. THATS ALL I WANT. AND THATS ALL SNOW WANTS. i can see how it can look like its more from an outside perspective bc of our IG comments but it was not like that in person at all!! it just felt like hanging out with a friend and introducing new things to each other like shows and foods. snow even made it clear that once someone is their friend, they cant see them any other way and that formed to protect their feelings. when we hung out there were literally no signs of feelings or anything that would cross boundaries. i didnt get that feeling i get when i have a crush and lose all my brain cells. by our second hang out we were past any awkwardness and it felt like a regular day out with a friend.

I did look cute that day but i always dress up!!! i dress up like every time i see my bf. i dress up for work. i dress up when im going out with friends. i enjoy fashion and makeup and looking pretty,,

last yr he was using bumble friends and he met up with a guy but they havent hung out since. ive helped him swipe on people before and i was okay with it, except when it was like an attractive girl.. would that be hypocritical of me tho?...idk. we def both get kinda jealous over these things. i can get territorial, like he is mine lol i am his. we would never be open or add a third and the thought of him befriending new females made me nervous. especially after what happened during our break. like idk, that still sticks with me and makes me think of bad feelings..and even more especially now after finding out about what he and his friend did.. but me feeling nervous about that is like what HE is feeling (T-T) I JUST DONT KNOW WHAT I CAN DO TO HELP AND IT SUCKS. i dont think i catch feelings easily. i dont get butterflies over people easily. im not an openly sexual person.

like. am i being unfair by continuing this friendship? snow doesnt know how he feels about us. idek if its worth telling but im gonna wait till more time passes and see how things go. would him hanging out with us make him feel better?? would it be too weird? he already doesnt like the idea of snow so how would he be in a room with them.

i wanna fast fwd to friday so i can tell my bestie about it and then fast fwd to sunday so i can see him. he is still not back to his usual self when we talk on snap. he tries to save serious confrontations for in person bc he sounds angry thru text so even tho itll make me nervous, i still wanna work this out so it doesnt ruin our relationship.

#mypost #journal

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