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#guess who made me fall for this man
divorcedfiddleford · 1 year
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i already know what the story behind the picture is but please explain it anyway we need to educate the masses
oh my god thank you for enabling me ive been thinking about this all day. regarding this post i made yesterday and this classic image (which i actually just found out was posted seven years ago today!)
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basically as can be read in the post at BigFest in 2016 somebody had what i believe was a fan-made prop based on the laptop from season 2 of gravity falls. alex hirsch attended this convention and decided to type in the password to the laptop. we never learned the password in the show so lots of people were excited to find out!
a HUGE thing to note here is that journal 3 was still months away from releasing and in fact while a couple pages had been released as promotional material it was still being worked on until, like... gosh i wanna say may is when they finally started printing it? don't quote me on that though my point is that this was all taking place pre-journal 3 and, therefore, many fans were still operating under the (sensible) impression that the laptop which
had been designed by fiddleford
had been built by fiddleford
had fiddleford's name on it
said "PROPERTY OF F" on it (at this point it had been established through promo images that "F" referred to fiddleford)
was assumed to be fiddleford's by, like, four different main characters
was given to and used by fiddleford following s2e7
fiddleford presumably knew the password to
would also belong to fiddleford. right? i mean logically. logically, guys.
so when alex hirsch revealed that the password had been "STANFORD" all along, people thought that was a little bit... well
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of course, a couple months later journal 3 would be published and it would say that the laptop had actually been STANFORD'S, not fiddleford's, and that he had made the password his own name. so technically i lied in my earlier post, there IS a heterosexual explanation for this, but imo it's still bullshit. like sorry i don't believe for a fucking second that stanford "i need to encode all of my messages in multiple ciphers and write in invisible ink" pines would ever make a password as simple as his own name. he wouldve picked like something with six different layers of alternate meanings and also put it through atbash at the VERY least. also as i listed above there is a LOT of evidence which would support the laptop belonging to fiddleford, as opposed to ford, which has this random retcon (and like... some of the computer keys are different colors? i guess?? idk that bit was stupid) as its only supporting evidence.
my theory is that, while writing the show, alex and the other writers had intended for the laptop to belong to fiddleford, but for whatever reason, when they were writing the book, they decided to make it ford's instead. i want to make clear that i DON'T think this swap was motivated by homophobia, or as a reaction to seeing people interpret the password in a gay way. by the time that this photo was taken several promotional journal pages had been released, so it's safe to say that even if they were still adding the finishing touches to the book, it was pretty much in its final stage and in fact might have already started printing (i think the first photos we see of the book itself were posted like a week or two after bigfest). so to assume that there's a correlation there is both unfounded and extremely unlikely.
now, the stargazing scene reprint, on the other hand
#long post#gravity falls#fiddauthor#<- why the fuck not. it's midnight no one can judge me#why are you as a man making your computer password the name of the man you live alone in the woods with#sorry anon i doubt think this is what you had in mind when you said “explain it” LMAO#tales of the wild zeep#uhhh a couple other notes#1. i do not know who made the laptop prop at bigfest. i assumed it was a fan but i wasn't there i really don't know#2. i said may is when they started printing the book but i have literally no source for that#it is a guess based on when promotional photos were being posted#3. i say “fiddleford presumably knew the password to [the laptop]” and i just wanted to explain my reasoning there#basically in s2e10 fiddleford says that he “fixed” the laptop and is shown using it#we also see it at the start of the following episode being used to monitor the activity of the portal#now. i am not a computer engineer. i am mediocre with computers at best.#but based on what i have been told. when you are faced with a password screen. there are two ways to proceed#one way is to reset the computer's hard drive entirely‚ to... “erase its memory” if you will#however this would result in one being unable to access any of the information which had previously been stored there#considering that we see fiddleford using the laptop to monitor the portal's activity i believe that its files must have been intact#so we can rule out resetting as an option#the other way to proceed is by. um. knowing the password. and entering it#so THAT'S why i say that he PRESUMABLY knew the password.#now it's entirely possible that he was able to hack into the laptop or something. he is a mechanical genius and he built it after all#i'm just saying that i think it's far more likely that he just. knew the password.#which is honestly really funny and still kind of gay if you believe the whole “the laptop was actually ford's” thing#why are you as a man telling your computer password to the man you live alone in the woods with when you wont even write it in your diary#fucking apologies for this OCEAN of tags. ive done taxes all day im an adult im allowed to infodump about old hyperfixations as a treat
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monards · 1 month
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i know hoyo is setting up rhine to have good intent and whatever in her trying to 'save' khaneri'ah or whatever; but i REALLY hope they stay with the cruel persona thats been built up for her. because it would be so wonderful to see a character who had good intent in the beginning just get absolutely corrupted; with the inability to ever go back to that prior state purely because of what had happened. also because there is NO way in her turning back after all that shit
#sorry. i dont think theres any good and plausible explanation for rhine to still be a kind or gentle person in general#she can (and SHOULD) have her moments. but it'd make so much more sense (and be much more impactful) for her to be inherently cruel#because look at all the stuff thats happened#i love the indomitable human spirit trope. dont get me wrong.#but rhine has that in the way she WONT stop her research till shes either dead or murdered. she is not gonna be gentle kind and optimistic#she watched all her kids (that she was SHOWN to care for) get very brutally murdered.#had to then go and kill her next creations that she didn't consider perfect (which most certainly fucks a women up. no matter what you say)#made the 'perfect creation' and the way she treated him was obviously a HUGE contrast to how she was before (being gentle and nuturing)#and left him (albeit with what we can guess was good intent) with NO goodbye just#a recommendation letter. a text. and his final mission#she could have good intent#and still care for others#dont get me wrong!!!!!!!#but shes. human???#humans can be (as much as i hate to say it) a tad selfish when it comes to survival#and being antagonized demonized AND shunned by teyvat and even her own people. having to survive multiple gods wrath#isn't. gonna be good for the human psych#and it isn't gonna be something fixable#look at how furina progressively faltered over a hundered years WHILE being adored#she already started waning in her ethics and morals (as someone immortalized as a human WOULD)#with exposing lyney and all of that when it was VERY clearly the morally wrong thing to do (which her as a human would know)#and being relatively pessimistic and clearly spiralling#(no hate. i love furina with all my heart.)#if thats how FURINA started going#imagine rhine who has nobody (save maybe alice. but i doubt she'd be constant given her spontaneous nature and refusal to sit still)#shit man. even I'D go crazy and be horrible.#its okay and natural to be bitter#and its not as if anybody was there to help#hexenzirkel has a ton of women who survived their own nations falling yes#but not ONE of them (from what we know) has had circumstances any where near rhine's
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thenookspace · 11 months
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Girl help I'm having aroace Miguel O'Hara thots
#fuck what if he wanted a daughter and the companionship of other spiders (initially) bc he was desperate for non-sexual and non-romantic#affection/connection???#man so desperate for familial love that he made the spider society AND dimension-hopped#makes me wonder how the dead Miguel had Gabriella#cloning??? assuming the dude was going by the comics backstory and was a geneticist#maybe Miguel in ATSV wasn't a geneticist????? no test tube baby for him I guess#does this stem from my need for more complex ace rep? Probably???????#where's that post with the “I need more passionate aces - aces who get fucking mad”#bc THAT'S HIM OFFICER#Miguel O'Hara the angriest aro ace in the business#the thots are thinking#because y'all KNOW he wouldn't have trouble making a baby the conventional way I've seen those fanarts the PTA mums would be all over that#even his fucking AI was falling in love with him in the comics#so why the fuck did he need to hop dimensions to have a family?????#mmmmmmm sex and romance repulsed motherfucker coding detected#this is in no way a jab at anyone else's hornyness for him tho#character.ai away my dudes#honestly the art and writing coming out bc of sheer thirst for this man is incredible to me#I just want an ace character I could go to anger management class with#bc I'm over here existing in a perpetual state of annoyed at the only ace rep being robots/aliens/emotionless#bc all that is the fucking coolest and all but eeeeeeeh#gimme an ace who could foreground familial relationships and friendships and show me how devastating they are when broken#rather than act like passion and love and emotions are unavailable to people without romance and sex#gimme an ace character who is emotional and worldly and irreparably fucked up#gimme ace Miguel O Hara#ATSV#spiderman across the spiderverse#spiderverse spoilers#atsv spoilers#atsv miguel
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opens-up-4-nobody · 5 months
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...
#ok. this is the fucking bullshit thing abt grad school. u go to fucking grad school bc u r a fucking tryhard nerd freak#who is either naturally very smart or ur so fucking anxious u r incapable of allowing urself to get a bad grad#and then u go to fucking grad school and everyone's like: man fuck ur classes. if youre getting streight As then u aren't focusing on ur#research. and theyre right. but u still cant fucking let go of the idea that if u get a bad grad the world is gonna fucking end and u r a#bad person. u didnt try hard enough. all this to say i have a final project that i put way too much energy into and not even in a good way#i would just open the document. start sobbing. and then close it and spiral abt how i didn't want to work on it. so its bullshit#i mean. its a good project idea ans i probably sound like i kno wtf im talking abt bc i do. i worked on that topic for 4 years but like#i could make it wayyyyy better. its bullshit. i didnt even number the citations to give more page space. i made section headers. i didnt#wrap text. i could add like 4 more lines of text if i wanted but i think im not gotta bc fuck it. ugh. i dont even. i fucking avoide#stochastic stuff altogether which i kno im gonna have to fight abt but like fuck it who cares abt randomness. i just wanna focus on the#predictably aspect of community composition. fuck u. i shouldnt have picked this topic. i mean. i had to bc its like the one microbe thing#i could do but its also like the exact topic that makes me wanna rip my hair out and start screaming. like jesus christ who tf cares? ugh.#i think id give myself a B if it was an undergrad class. but the standard is higher in an all grad class. ugh. i hate this. i should just#send it abd be done. i dont even kno when its due tomorrow. before class i guess. idk i felt like garbage today. fucking vertigo bby. i feel#ok now tho. so maybe the allergic reacting is over???? fingers r still arthritisy tho. jesus. im falling apart#ive got a pretty good sounding excuse for being lazy tho: owo i had an allergic reaction to my antidepressants 🥳 but nah no excuses we run#this body into the ground. like the good old days.#unrelated
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nostalgia-tblr · 1 year
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re: my seemingly fringe "I don't think we're meant to think Odin was a dreadful cunt" take, when was Thor 1 actually made? Like... 2010/2011? Because I think Odin is (presumably based on comics canon) meant to be "a bit distant but overall good as a parent" but 2010ish is well after the recent (historically recent, by which I mean since maybe the 1980s) shift in our culture's ideas about fatherhood and what make "a good dad" as well as similarly radical shifts in how we approach disciplining children. MCU!Odin is therefore odd because he's a couple of generations out if he's meant to convince the audience that he's A Good Dad or even an acceptable one. Even the people making the film can't have (all) thought he was any good so with this in mind I'm more open to the idea that Odin is meant to be fairly shit. (But not entirely, and certainly not to the point of him being evil - he's doing his best and arguably the issue isn't him but the culture they've all been born into.)
IDK how old the writer was but there could be an intentional generation-gap thing going on there? An "everyone thinks this is acceptable and even good parenting, but it isn't and everyone involved is getting messed up by it." You don't have to go that far back historically before failing to show regular affection to your kids wouldn't be seen as a significant flaw in a father (whereas it absolutely would be in a mother - v interesting that as the status of women in our society has increased our idea of a good dad has shifted significantly towards an ideal that would previously have been considered "maternal" and thus "unmanly." Oh hey, looks like patriarchy is bad for men too!)
I still think a lot of fanon and fanfic overstates it (which is fine until we're at the point of inventing obviously abusive behaviour and then seemingly forgetting that we made that up), and that Odin is at least meant to be 'doing his best' but yeah Them Thor Films must surely be aware that his best is nowhere near Actually Good, yeah? I mean unless they were written by a man who lives in the 1950s, which they probably weren't. (There is absolutely some generational variation in how far the social change has taken hold but you'd have to look for a long time before you'd find a man of any age who'd say "I really wish my father had been more reserved and had spent less quality time with me" rather than wistfully expressing the opposite of that.)
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the-acid-pear · 11 months
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On: today i dreamt...
What started as a story about a group of gangster breaking into an abandoned (but not really?) prison to film their movie and being caught soon devolved into an international conspiracy filled with subplots about love and corruption, culminating with both groups that we thought were equally righteous finding out not everything was quite as it seems.
#luly talks#i had to run a man on all 4s to catch him it was great#movie-dream started about like torture with our protags being thrown into a container at first full of blood and missing limbs#but that soon got dropped w the only thing left of it being this one man who had part of his jaw and ribs falling/peeling off#and he had to lovers an old one who was kissing him and a new one#(a cop; too) who was looking at his naked for for the first time as he looked at the sea and sunset#and she slowly approached him before starting to kiss his somehow still bleeding wounds as he mourned the pain of being crucified#like that guy literally never showed up again#oh my god actually there was something aside from that there was a really fucked up sims world that just couldn't be real#and ended w marge and homer drowning i think (their house was underwater) and Maggie dying too as a nursery rhyme played#and there was also a random event of domestic violence#anyway about the movie-dream; it had something to do about the government making illnesses and having the cure but keeping it#and it was tied to reagan but we all were talking spanish (tbf movie-dream; could've been dubbed DKDHNSGD) and the reason why we realized#this was because a radio message of a british girl named sumthin like casey i think who had cancer or something#and basically the government knew and had the mediums to cure her but wouldn't do it#so in the end me and this girl who discovered this conspiracy and the other and og group who was doing fuck all i guess came back together#and at first my friend pretended to be all of our enemies (she was enemies w only one guy there) but then we turned on the guy#and as I guess revenge on the people who were supporting this goverment conspiracy and helping it instead of killing them we grabbed them#and flashed a weird scan light onto their eye which made em be infected#<- in dream this shit was cool as fuck ok?#and then everyone went on w their lives and in the bud#bus* ppl spoke w me and gave me food leftovers to help out those who needed em but it felt... awkward#like they were doing it out of fear instead of kindness y'know#oh btw i rode an helicopter 😁
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depresseddepot · 2 years
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My brother failed his driving test (was so nervous that he crashed) and cried afterwards because he was so upset about it and I, in true estranged eldest daughter fashion, am sick to my stomach worrying that my parents gave him shit for it
#i don't even like my brother very much#hes conservative and shitty like my dad (tho he is only 16 so im holding out for a few years before i decide he's a lost cause)#but i am still The Third Parent#my brother is My Dad's Son TM so i sincerely doubt he would humiliate him abt crying/be anything less than encouraging#but knowing how they treated ME when I made a mistake is. making me extra paranoid#surely they wouldn't do it a second time. surely they've noticed how i never talk to them#surely they understand what they did to cause it and wouldn't do it again to their youngest baby. right?#he was raised so much more leniently than i was so i don't think he's quite as. like.#terrified or failure but not bc of the failure but bc of the repercussions from The Bosses#but man. man. i need a leather cord to chew on.#i know my parents are shit to their kids bc they were shit to me and now im worried they'll be shit to him! what a cycle#anyway. tonight i am drinking to fall asleep faster! huzzah or whatever#also editing this to add a prediction: yes i know i could just ask my parents/brother how they reacted. you misunderstand our relationship#i live here and take care of the chickens and feed their son while they gamble. we do not talk. not even casually.#i don't just 'ask' any of them what happened. we exchange facts about events and move on#sometimes we visit my grandmother and get too encouraged by a chatty environment and get into arguments#we disagree on fundamentally everything (other than polite manners in public. that is unbreakable and sound) so we don't talk#ive surpassed wanting their attention. i don't want to know their opinions anymore and they never wanted to know mine#tough shit i guess. who knew you needed to love a child as a child and not as a cute handbag to lug around#(especially when that cute handbag grew up to be not so cute anymore and fat and actually reacted to that shitty treatment)#anyway this post isn't abt me (but im my mother's daughter so i always make things abt me huh)#i feel bad for my brother and wish i had been a better sister#i know i had 3+ undiagnosed mental illnesses/disabilities but still#i hope he passes really easily the next time and he isn't as nervous and my parents help him fix his car without complaining#vent
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soryualeksi · 1 year
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tw child death tw harm to pregnant people
#so after 5 years of searching i found someone who was working on the car crash i was witness and did first aid at when i was pregnant#a lady who was also pregnant and about as far along as me probably further was crushed by falling debris#she was a pedestrian and a driver fainted in his car accelerated and crashed through several pedestrian spaces and then metal beams fell#i knew she lived as far as ICU but i don't know what came after that#and i kept searching for someone who could tell me whether her child pulled through#well i found someone yesterday and it's not the happy ending i kept wishing for#the baby was emergency delivered right at the ER trauma room back then like 5 minutes from the ambulance arriving and loading her#but had to be declared dead right there#and i always kind of knew this was the outcome because i remember asking at the hospital even tho obviously they weren't allowed to tell me#but when they said the good things they were allowed to they all got a thousand yard stare#so since that day i knew that her baby died and mine lived#but having confirmation from someone who was there is still. sigh.#it's good to have no hypotheticals anymore tho i think it will help me get closure#i wish her child could have lived too#she'd done nothing wrong but be at the 'wrong' spot in a pedestrian space at that time. there's no reason and no meaning.#there's no meaning to human suffering. suffering is just suffering. it's always a bad thing period.#ah man sorry to throw trauma at y'all#it's unlikely anyone here remembers. i did blog about it back then. and it was what made me change career to EMT#i guess it's good to know in a way that even if i *had* been an EMT back then there was nothing in human hands to save her baby#nobody could do it#there is patients you cannot save no matter what and it's not a failure on your part#we are all humans with the good and the bad and the strengths and the limitations#so that's my musings#it's good to finally know for sure after all this time searching but it's also hard#ah what a downer story in the morning#the man who was next to her was fine#it's so unfair and meaningless#gotta work harder on easing this unfair and meaningless suffering#child death cw#harm to pregnant people cw
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gallusrostromegalus · 10 months
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I was raised agnostic and tend to remain ambiguous on theological matters.
-but my house has a porch on the second story that affords me a terrific view of my neighborhood and the Colorado Front Range and I was partaking of some peace before the 4th Of July Finger-Loss Festivities begin, and I have had a
~*Spiritual Experience*~
I just watched my neighbor try to unload an actual wooden pallet that had to have been forklifted into the back of his insecurity pickup worth of fireworks.
Except that he does not have a forklift in his garage.
He does have so much sports memorabilia and cardboard boxes of unsold MLM Merchandise and patriotically themed camping gear and posters of women in bikinis and flags of suspect political organizations in his garage that there is only BARELY enough space for the fireworks and certainly none for his truck.
So he had to unload the individual boxes of recreational explosives from the back of his truck and stack them in the minimal space he had cleared by hand. This is a tedious and time-consuming process as this neighbor has purchased a wide variety of recreational and locally illegal explosives instead of many of just a few types, so the individual boxes are rather small.
He begins, and this is crucial to what happens next, by cutting apart the industrial-grade saran wrap his explosives dealer had so carefully wrapped his merchandise in, and discarded it unsecured on his lawn.
Where Outdoor Conditions sometimes happen.
His process for unloading the fireworks is to 1. Climb up through the gate into the bed of his pickup truck (a feat made unusually difficult due to the slope of his driveway, and this man's fascinating decision to wear the world's Siffest and least Flexible Denim Overalls. 2. Once in the pickup bed, he selects ONE (1) box from the pile He is apparently from a niche religious institution that doesn't believe in stacking things. 3. Carries it awkwardly around the palette that barely fits in the truck bed 4. His wife yells "Be careful!" when he nearly falls out of the pickup. 5. He Yells "SHADDUP!" back at her. 6. The Large German Shepherd barks from inside the house. 7. He yells "SHADDUP!" back at her too. 8. He sets the (1) box down on the gate 9. Slowly and awkwardly climbs out of the pickup bed 10. picks the box back up, and carries it into the garage.
Question: Aren't you going to help this poor man? Answer: Absolutely Not.
There's four military veterans, MANY dogs, and several people with dementia in this neighborhood, all of whom are terrified by this chicanery every year and many neighbors have repeatedly asked him to maybe do the fireworks somewhere else. (This is the Eighth Year Running he's held a major demolition event in his driveway, and for those of you who can do math, you may be able to guess the precipitating incident to this little ritual) Additionally, I live in Colorado, a state marginally less prone to spontaneous and catastrophic conflagrations than a rotting grain silo, but only marginally. Our recreational explosives laws are written accordingly.
I am in fact calling the Non Emergency line to report Fireworks violations, and reading off the brand labels to someone named Dorothy, who is gleefully totaling up a SPECTACULAR fine for my oblivious neighbor.
However, while I'm on the phone with Dorothy, I notice the wind begin to pick up. and by "Notice" I mean "The Industrial Saran Wrap he left on his Lawn earlier is suddenly swept up about 100 feet into the air by an updraft intense enough to make my ears pop" And by "Pick Up" I mean "I look up to see the sky has turned a fun and exciting shade of glass green, and the bottoms of the clouds are bumpy and rounded, and the overall effect is not unlike looking up through the bottom of the cup at God's Matcha Boba Tea."
For those of you who do not live in places with Inclement Weather, these conditions mean "You have about 30 seconds before a Major Meteorological Event Occurs."
I move under the eaves. "Hang on Dorothy." I say, nose filling with Petrichor. "The show is about to be cancelled." "Oh, that doesn't matter!" Dorothy cheerfully informs me. "It's illegal for him just to possess those, no matter if he actually gets to set them off or not." "Terrific, because he's gotten maybe five boxes out of a hundred inside."
Sometimes, the weather gods are Merciful and give you a verbal warning, typically in the kind of thunderclap that makes your ears ring.
The Gods were not merciful today.
It's not often that I am in the time, place, correct angle or in a properly observational frame of mind to see this, But I got to see it today. Huh. I thought. I've never seen a cloud just DIVE for the ground before. Oh. I realized as it got closer. That's RAIN.
Sometimes, a thunderstorm will form in such a way that the rain that would normally be distributed over an area of say, five to tent square miles, is instead concentrated into an area of say, my neighborhood exactly.
So today, I was granted the rare privilege of being able to actually see the literal wall of water descend from On High and DIRECTLY onto my porch, my street, and my neighbor's truck, and his pile of unwrapped fireworks.
The sheer impact force of the downpour immediately scatters the teetering pile of fireworks boxes in the back of the truck, like the wrath of God striking down the tower of Babel. Boxes tumble, then are washed out of the bed of the truck by the deluge. Smaller Boxes are carried down the road in a little line by the stream forming in the gutter, like little impotent explosive ducklings.
My neighbor was definitely yelling something, but I could not hear what over the DEAFENING noise several million gallons of water makes upon high-speed contact with the earth's surface, but there was a lot of arm-waving and faces turning red as he went looking for the saran wrap that had probably blown to Nebraska by now, while his wife started disassembling the complex three-dimensional puzzle of interlocking material goods in search of a tarp. They do not have a tarp. They have one of those wretched Thin Blue Line flags though, and my neighbor jogs out in a futile effort to cover what's left in the truck.
Which is when the hail begins.
"HELLO?" Yelled Dorothy. "HI!" I shouted. "WE'RE HAVING SOME WEATHER!" "OH GOOD!" she shouts back. "WE NEED THE MOISTURE!"
I watch for a minute longer, but the loss was immediate and catastrophic- the hail is the size of marbles and dense and cares not for your pitiful cardboard and cellophane, ripping the boxes asunder and punching holes in the few things covered in plastic. The colors on the Thin Blue Line Flag are seeping all over the remains of that it was supposed to protect in a particularly apt visual metaphor. Not even the few boxes that made it into the garage are spared, as the German Shepherd escapes from indoors, and in an attempt to assist her humans, jumps directly into the small stack of not-yet-ruined boxes, scattering them into the driveway and deluge. She even picks one up so her humans will chase her around the yard, before dropping it in the gutter to be swept away.
So. I was raised Agnostic -but even I can recognize when God slaps someone upside the head and shouts "NO!" at them.
---
(If you laughed, please consider supporting my Ko-fi or preordering my book of Strange Stories on Patreon)
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osaemu · 7 months
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GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ CAN I PUT YOU ON HOLD? ❜❜
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.ೃ࿐ he picks up the phone in the middle of fucking you. NSFW
contents: fem!reader. cunniligus, lil' bit of dirty talk and more... i'm too tired to type it all out </3
author's note: idk personally i wouldn't take that.. but i guess i would if it was satoru. anywaysss enjoy
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satoru's a busy man — balancing his responsibilities as a teacher and as a sorcerer is no easy task, but he finds a way to make it work.
anyone who's known him for longer than a minute can easily tell that satoru's committed to his line of work. as much as he complains about it, the truth is that it's one of his top priorities. maybe even the first one.
and you get a taste of just how devoted satoru is when he picks up the phone in the middle of fucking you. 
"hello?" satoru cooes, eyes focused on your indignant expression as he holds a finger to his lips. "yeah, i'm free to talk. what is it?"
"free to talk?" you mouth at him incredulously. satoru replies with a wink and grins, enjoying the show. you're still pinned underneath him, bedsheets haphazardly strewn across your body, and satoru savors the sight of you all needy and pouty.
"yeah, take your time," satoru says amusedly to whoever's on the other side of the phone after a moment. when you reach up and swat satoru's chest indignantly, he uses his free hand to pin your wrists above your head, a clear warning in his eyes.
after a couple of mhm's and of course's, the conversation still isn't over. your patience is waning — who is satoru to just stop in the middle of fucking you to pick up a phone call and say that he's free to talk?
you try to distract yourself by thinking about the mindblowing sex you were having just minutes ago. the longing, glassy stares; the red scratch marks down satoru's back; and of course you couldn't leave out the words.
"fuck, you're taking me so well, sweetheart." "atta girl, you're a natural slut, aren't ya?" "your pussy was made to be fucked by me, wasn't it?"
how did that turn into "yeah, make sure the higher-ups know about this, otherwise they'll give me hell for it. mhm"?
after another bland minute, satoru rolls off of you and sits up with his back against the headboard, sheets falling to expose everything from his waist up. 
you whine in impatience, glaring at him like a sullen child. satoru basically just edged you — one second you're about to get to best orgasm of your life, the next you're forced to watch your boyfriend chat on the phone nonchalantly as if he wasn't just moaning your name like a slut three minutes earlier.
satoru shoots a glare at you and pats his lap, pressing a finger to his lips as a reminder to stay quiet.
well then, he shouldn't have picked up the phone in the middle of fucking you.
you scoot yourself into his lap, purposefully positioning yourself so that your pussy just barely rubs against the head of satoru's still-dripping cock.
it's so worth it when you hear satoru inhale a sharp breath and start to squirm under you, somehow both trying to push himself inside but also trying to inch himself away. it's like he can't decide, but the way his face flushes red speaks volumes.
his voice is breathier than normal as he squeezes his watery eyes shut. "yeah yeah, that's perfect. you mind if i put y'on hold for a sec? alright, thanks."
you glance over at satoru as he retracts the phone from his ear and puts it on mute. not even a second later, he's back on you, manhandling you into a position where he can comfortably eat your pussy, a cheeky smile on his lips.
"you think you're so fucking funny, don't ya?" satoru cooes, looking up at you as he eats you out sloppily. a mixture of his saliva and your essence drips down his chin, and the lewd sounds slipping from his lips are pornworthy. the wail that slips out of your lips when satoru bites down on your thigh hard enough to leave a mark is anything but appropriate, especially when he presses his lips back to your pussy and laughs in the middle of tonguefucking you.
"fuck, you're so lucky my phone's on mute right now," satoru groans, still buried in between your thighs. "god, if my old man could hear you now—"
"your dad's on the other end of the phone?!" you gasp, swatting satoru's head and frantically reaching over him to check if the phone was actually on mute — knowing satoru, it could've just slipped his mind. intentionally.
satoru scowls, muttering a reminder for you to stay still while he eats his dessert before rolling his eyes and grumbling "what does it matter?"
"uh, that's embarrassing!" you whine. when satoru nudges his nose against you again, you reluctantly spread your thighs for him so he can continue his meal. satoru mumbles a thanks, but he doesn't respond beyond that.
"satoru!"
"what??"
"don't you have to finish your call?"
satoru sticks out his bottom lip, fixing his cerulean eyes on you and pouting. "you were just complaining about the call and now you want me to go back??"
"it's your dad, satoru," you groan, pushing his shoulders away from your legs and ignoring his protests. "you don't get any more pussy until you finish that damn call."
"i hate you."
"love you lots, baby."
satoru sighs dramatically and unmutes the call, not bothering to respond to his dad's questions with answers longer than a word or two. after another minute of this, his dad finally hangs up and satoru lets out an elated cheer.
he turns to you with a mischievous smirk. 
"now, where were we?"
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roturo · 5 months
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⋆⭒˚。⋆ SHE'S BACK!
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GUESS HE COULDN'T KEEP IT IN, SO HE HAD TO KEEP IT INSIDE! ₊˚⊹♡ dilf!gojo satoru x teacher!reader
tags: smut, unprotected sex, breeding kink, exhibitionism, getting caught, he fucks you while he's on the phone, overstimulation, dumbfication, fluff, gojo has an ex-wife, yuuji is gojo's son, age-gap.
A/N: well, this was surely and adventure and maybe self-indulgent title because guess what?, i'm back baby.
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It was a nice morning, he felt clean. Like his life was finally steadying. Even after some stressful weeks trying to get rid of his now ex-wife, he won the trial and kept Yuuji. Poor little boy, just turning 5 years old and he’s already facing all this type of stress. But thankfully he will not be experiencing enduring his crazy mother behavior. Which basically was a gold digger, and a bitch– Not that he would ever say that outloud, maybe with other words? Bastard? Witch? Not that it really matters right now.
He could finally take a break now, just focusing on raising his little boy, and being an old boring 31 year old dad. Life doesn’t sound that bad.
“Daddy! Daddy!,” His son went running to his arms, almost stumbling by himself- clear happiness shown on his face. Quickly, Gojo opened his arms ready to lift the young kid. “Miss Y/N congratulated me on my homework! She was pretty amazed!”
Your name wasn’t unknown to him, Yuuji was very open when talking about his favorite teacher, even though he hasn’t seen you yet- from what he’s been told you’re the kid’s favorite, including Yuuji’s. “I had to talk about who’s my hero, and I chose you!” If this day wasn’t going great, it was now. Because his son's comment just made his whole week, life even.
“Oh look dad!” The little boy pointed towards your moving frame, each time getting clñoser towards them. “Daddy, this is Miss Y/N!” Yuuji kept presenting the both of you. He was really excited to present his two favorite persons to each other- but all Gojo could think of what’s how young and beautiful you looked. He expected someone older, maybe even an old lady with wrinkles and that loving grandma vibes, but what he saw made his heart beat in a way he never thought he would feel ever more.
“Daddy? Are you paying attention?” The little boy gained Gojo’s attention back, face now looking at him again. “I’m sorry kiddo, kinda just zoned out there. What did you just say?”
“Uhh, what was it? Oh! Did I tell you Miss Y/N told me you were a very handsome man?”
“Yuuji!” His gaze moved towards your blushed face, a hand covering part of your face. “I’m so sorry Mr.Gojo, I didn’t intend to say-”
Gojo cut you off before you could continue apologizing “It’s okay, I also think Ms.Y/N is a very beautiful woman.” 
Uh, well. So this is how kinda you found yourself in this situation right now.
You swear it wasn’t your intention! You really tried, you really did, but how could someone say no to Mr.Gojo? And mostly because he really showed his attraction towards you. Sending Yuuji with a rose for you every day, and the little boy was rooting for his dad, because dear god- he did not shut up about him, and how happy he would be with a new girlfriend and maybe one he could call ‘mommy’ and give him a sister. 
That made you blush. 
Not only because the little boy commented on it, and was agreeing- but because it was his dad’s idea.
“You’re so wet, s-shit.” Loud thrusts filled the room, he was fucking you raw on his sofa– waiting for Yuuji’s mom to bring him back, the little boy was eager to come back and ‘see Ms.Y/N and his daddy finally starting to fall in love’
Kids being kids. But, he was right- the both of you were falling in love with eachother.
Gojo throws back his head, immersed in the warmth radiating off your walls and he lets your moans take him to another world. In a haste decision, he slips your dress over your head before tossing it. He mouths at your tits, plump and stiff between his lips, and he hurdles a deeper round of thrusts inside you. 
When you get a little too loud, his hand comes over to clamp your mouth, wolf like eyes staring back at you, “Shut it. You don’t deserve to speak.”
His thin white tee that stays a barrier between you and him does not hide the rippling body underneath that seemed to be sculpted by gods. He presses into you, grunting, using you like his personal sex doll and you embrace it, thrive from it, come to it. Your hips contract, slewing in perfect circles, before having your legs fall gradually lifeless as you arousal drip down your thighs.
“Ffffucckkk- oh baby, would you like that? Be full of me and my baby? Make me a daddy again?”
“yesyesyesyes, make me yours Mr.Gojo-” 
He pays your climax no mind,a smirk clearly showing on his face while he fucks you on his sofa- You could muffle your screams of pleasure easier here. Turning your head back to face him, you notice now he’s shirtless–taut and shiny from sweat like a large set of Hawaiian rolls–before seeing how quick he is to fit back inside you.
“Good girl.” His husky voice resonates and pushes you back into the sheets. “Good girls get rewards, don’t they?” Your poor fucked up mind couldn’t think clearly now. The way your abused and overstimulated pussy was still taking his rock hard cock gratefully inside you was making every feel giddy. A sudden noise bringing back a little part of your senses, Gojo clearly grunting grabbed his what you suppose phone, and answered. Not bothering to stop his thrusts.
“Yeah?,” His voice sounded almost like a whisper because of how breathy it was. “Gojo? I’m almost at your house- Yuuji wanted some ice-cream and bought some for you and… your new girlfriend?” His chuckle interrupted his ex-wife’s conversation, accompanied with a whimper at the feeling of you clenching on him- overstimulation clearly bringing you back to climax soon again.
A slap was heard from his part of the line, an unbelievable laugh coming from his ex-wife line, clearly noticing what was going on and then she finally heard you moan. You couldn’t keep it in anymore, and you were too fucked out to feel embarrased about it right now.
“Finish before I leave Yuuji- Enjoy yourself.” Gojo was so lost in pleasure that he didn’t even realize she hung up before he even processed what happened.
His grunts and sounds of skins slapping are all you hear as he pounds you back into the sofa. It feels like heaven beneath his weight. You were feeling flushed to the touch, but making contact with his skin was like an inferno. He was the embodiment of heat and as suffocating as that could’ve been, it melts you like it’s how it always should’ve been.
His pace eventually falters, followed by a hushed “fuck,” and he empties out into your used hole. The moment he pulled out, a knock was heard. 
“Shit. Can you walk?”
PART 2
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It was a close call after a bad morning but guess what I did yesterday
#the engineer who fixed the train and everyone who cleared the tracks yesterday need a raise right now#up until half 2 i was watching train after train get cancelled#also unable to get to the other suggested station because of a flooded road#also had to deal with the rheumatology department finally getting back to me to ask if i want to stay on the waiting list#(you have to do so many things just to login and tick a box that say yes i need an appointment still)#but the half 2 train ran! and we made it to london! and people offered me seats so i got to sit on the tube both ways#(i know i had my walking stick but usually people just give me judgemental looks i've never been offered seats before)#and we got there and they were so good the entire stadium screamed when they started sugar we're going down#and heaven iowa live is so incredibly good man i thought can it get any better?#and i don't really have a full ranking of songs but i do have a favourite and a second favourite#and then it's everything on a sliding scale depending on my mood#but i do have a second favourite it's bang the doldrums#so they start playing bang the doldrums and i'm on the edge of my seat screaming along#thinking the only way this can get any better is if they play my very favourite fall out boy song the (shipped) gold standard#but that's just a brief thought of wishful thinking that's not going to happen#so anyway it goes on everything is so good they play so much for stardust i think is this the last song it's so so good#and then then guess fucking what#guess what#'let's do a song we've never done live before' says pete and i don't really keep up with all that just albums so it could be anything#and then the first bars of the (shipped) gold standard and i almost fall out the chair holy shit#so i guess someone saw the morning i had and thought of a way to make it up to me#had to dip a couple of songs early to catch the train and ended the day in so much pain and so tired but that was so incredibly good#they played bang the doldrums and the (shipped) gold standard i'm so happy#*
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danveration · 3 months
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Sleep well, amour.
Parings: Alastor x reader
Summary: You’ve been very intrested in Alastor ever since you met him. He invites you to see his recording studio, which you accept. Then you ask if you can stay and listen to him host! While listening, you fall asleep. How does he react?
Word count: 2844
Warnings: Ummm not really much? Alastor being Alastor! One mention of not being able to sleep sometimes, mention of seeing people in hell doing dr*gs, k*lling eachother, and fighting, mention of reader having bad social skills (?)
part two
A/N: UM!! this is my first time writing for alastor, so apologies if it isn’t the best. Please give me any feedback you want, I’d love to hear it! Also sorry for any spelling mistakes. I hope you enjoy :’)
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Alastor the radio demon. You know of the things he’s done, you know that people are quite literally terrified of him. But for some reason... you feel a certain way towards him that you can’t describe, but it’s surely not fear.
You’ve had a some-what odd admiration of him since you landed in hell, only a few months ago. You got spotted by Charlie when you first got to hell. She noticed you looking around nervously and lost, and put two and two together that you must be new. She very kindly introduced herself which was refreshing because.. well.. it’s hell. Everywhere you looked people were fighting, doing drugs, and even killing each other. You were glad there were kind people even down here.
“Hi, you! Uh, you lost?” Charlie smiled you and waved.
“Um yeah! I’m guessing this is hell, huh?” You awkwardly chuckle. Social skills weren’t ever your thing, it seems they haven’t got better after you died, either.
“Yep! This is hell! You must be new? I’m Charlie! Charlie Morningstar. It’s so nice to meet you.” She smiled and stuck out her hand for you to shake.
“Nice to meet you, Charlie! My names Y/n.” You politely smiled back and shook her hand.
After that meeting, Charlie showed you to the hotel in which you eagerly accepted to stay at, her being the only sane thing you’ve seen down here. It was a pretty nice place, no 5 star hotel like back on earth, but it was something you’re very grateful for. Who knows what would’ve happened to you if you haven’t met her.
While she was showing you around, someone caught your eye. He was a tall man, very polite and respectful looking. He was dressed head to toe in old fashioned attire, with a cane to suit his charming look. He was smiling in a way that made you look at him like he was something you wanted to inspect under a magnifying glass.
He glanced at you and smiled larger, stepping over to you and Charlie.
“My, my! What do we have here? Charlie! You didn’t tell me that we’ve got more guests? It’s a pleasure to meet you, my dear! The names Alastor!” He spoke politely.
His voice was sort of.. Radio-like? You found it soothing.
“Haha yeah! I found them wandering around on the street this morning! They���re a newcomer, their name is Y/n.” She spoke back, excited to introduce you.
“Y/n! Well, my, my. That’s quite a lovely name!” He said. “Say.. do you listen to radio? I host a brilliant radio broadcast that’ll give you some real insight on this place!” He said enthusiastically.
“Oh.. haha thank you” You smile. “I do actually! I love radio shows.” You immediately feel drawn towads him. You cant tell if it’s just the new scenery or what.. but you want to just sit and chat with him for hours.
Alastor perks up at that. “Oh you do, do you?” He smiled more.
“Yeah! Back when I was.. uhm.. alive, I actually had a whole playlist of them! What do you do your show about?” You ask.
Alastor is delighted to have you take interest in his show. “Well, dear, I do all sorts of things on there! Yes, yes, you think of it and I’ve most probably done it! Most commonly known is the souls I entrap and prison, as I broadcast their screams of horror all over this horrible place and people get to hear the noises of their never-ending torture and demise. But! I also just made a wonderful segment on my mother’s Jambalaya recipe!” He stated.
While part of those sentences gave you chills, you still seemed to take interest in him.
“Well,” you chuckle. “I will certainly check it out!” You smile.
“Ah! Wonderful news, my dear.” He said while he twirled his cane.
Charlie was watching you interact with him and noticed how you looked at him, as if admiring. She smile and said, “well! We better finish the tour.”
She motions for you to follow her and you do, waving Alastor goodbye.
He waves back and yells, “goodbye, sweetheart! Lovely to have met you.”
After that, you wanted absolutely everything to do with him. You’ve also got to know the other people staying at the hotel. Angel, Vaggie, Husk, Niffty, and Sir Pentious. They were overall kind people. Husk found your interest in Alastor to be no good.
“Yeah, no. That, whatever thing you have created in your mind about him, isn’t true. He’s vile, Y/n. Trust me on that.” He grunts.
Angel thought you had some kind of kink towards “scary, creepy men.” Which wasn’t true because you didn’t even find him scary. You found him charming.
“Ah.. Alastor? Fucking sexy weirdo if I do say so myself. He’s got some reaaal problems but hey, if you’re into that-“ You cut him off by saying it wasn’t like that & that you don’t think anything sexual towards him.
One day, you were talking to Sir Pentious about his “crush” on Cherry Bomb. He completely denied it but you could tell from his blush and his nervous demeanour that he was very interested in her.
You were caught off guard when you heard that radio voice coming up from behind you.
“Y/n, my dear! I have a question for you.” Alastor came and stood beside you, looking down from where you’re sitting.
“Al! Hey, what’s up?” You ask, containing your excitement.
Sir Pentious excused himself quickly, seeing one of his “egg boys” were being played with by Niffty. She isn’t one to be gentle.
“So, I know how you’ve been listening to my radio show as of late, and I was wondering if you’d like to see where the magic happens!” He states.
“R-really? I’d be honoured!” You say, smiling.
“Ah! Lovely. Come now, this way.”
You get up and he locks arms with you and chats about his new microphone that he got.
Once you guys arrive, you’re shocked. It looks very professional and comfortable. It suits him heavily. There’s a big open window, a desk, some chairs and sofas, a bunch of technical stuff on the desk along with his new mic that you recognize from his descriptions, and a deer coat hanger?
“Wow, Alastor. This place is so actually so sick. I love it. And the new microphone suits you!” You say. “Thank you for showing me, really.”
Typically, Alastor would never show someone something personal of his, including his studio, but you are an exception. He isn’t sure what it is about you but he doesn’t seem to hate you as much as he does with anyone else. At first he was weirded out, but now he just embraces it. He also feels protective of you. He doesn’t know exactly why you’re even down here. For as far is he can tell, you’re an angel. Always being kind even to those who aren’t kind to you, always saying “please” and “thank you,” all that jazz. Jazz! You even like jazz music, his favourite. He told you that he lived on earth the time jazz music was popular. The 20’s and 30’s. That explains his vocabulary and how he dresses. You just find it more interesting and take time to ask questions about what it was like in that time.
“Why of course, my dear! If I’d want to show anyone here, it would be you.” He says, giving you his iconic smile.
You have a thought. “Hey, Al? Would it be alright if the next time you do a show, I could stay and listen?”
You hope he doesn’t think this is odd.
Alastor raises a brow. “Why would you want to do that?” He asks.
You panic, thinking you went too far by asking and now he’s going to cut you off or something.
“Ha! Kidding, sweetheart! Of course you can. I love when my broadcast is wanted to be listened to. Though I love it as well when they don’t want to.” He says.
You’re relieved, a bit scared, but still relieved.
“Say!” He says. “I was going to make one tonight talking about this silly technology box that thinks he is better than me! You know, expose all his lies and secrets to my listeners, and unwilling listeners. Maybe broadcast it all throughout hell!” He starts laughing manically. Then calms down and stares at you.
“Would you want to stay and listen, hm? I can do it now! I didn’t have any plans today going forward and well, getting it out sooner is better than later, I always say.” He asks.
You know he’s talking about Vox when he mentioned the technology box. Him and Vox have a sort of rivalry going on. Though Alastor seems to not care much about him, Vox is sure obsessed. He’s even gone so far as to making posters about him. Which areee.. not much of a resemblance.
This offer strikes you and you immediately perk up. “Yes! I’d love to.” You say.
You don’t think Alastor knows this but whenever you’re struggling to sleep, you put on his radio show and his voice comforts you to sleep. You’re sure if you told him, he would find it weird.
Little did you know, Alastor already knew. He walked past your room one night and heard static sounds coming from your quarters. He immediately was intrigued and put his ear close to your door to hear his voice. He was surprised, but not weirded out. He found it delightful that you found comfort in his voice. It’s not everyday someone does. Usually it invokes terror and anxiety on anyone who hears. This was new, and he didn’t hate it.
“Lovely! Let me get all set up. You can sit wherever you feel the most comfortable!” He says, adjusting his mic and pressing a buttons on his table.
You find a spot and sit down. Feeling honored to even be in the same room as him, let alone HIS room.
“Ahem! Welcome ladies and gentlemen-“ He goes off into his introduction, before winking at you and starting.
After about 20 minutes, you begin to feel tired and put your head on the side of the wall, still listening but with your eyes closed.
Alastor immediately notices and smirks, knowing how his voice effects you. He continues on and after about another 20 minutes, he finishes up. You’re asleep, slightly smiling.
He walks over to you and looks down.
“My, my. You really are an interesting one, aren’t you?” He whispers. He smiles more softly than he usually does and looks around to find a purple blanket hanging on his deer coat hanger, and gently places it on you.
He feels his heart fluttering while looking down at you and he immediately shrugs it off.
“Mm well, my dear.. I guess you can stay here. I’ll just be over there, transferring my broadcast to the other radios around town.” He says and points to his table.
“Sleep well, amour.” He speaks softly.
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starkidmunson · 3 months
Text
glitter & crimson
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7
“Marry.”
“What?”
“Marry. He’s hot, I’m not gonna kill him.”
“Eddie, we’re not playing FMK; you’re supposed to be telling me his name.”
“Oh. That’s…. Joe Jonas.”
“…he’s literally from Hawkins. And he’s holding a hockey stick.”
“Nobody from Hawkins is that hot, man, no way.”
~~~
Gareth posts the clip to his personal TikTok. Before he can get around to reposting it on Corroded Coffin’s band account, it has more than 100k views. Things only spiral from there, because once the band shares it, the video goes more viral and ends up on the screens of the right people.
chiblkhwks: harrington94 is social media challenged, but we’re going to make sure he sees this. Will keep you posted.
The comment is immediately overshadowed by a busy day of PR. A photoshoot to an interview to a radio show to the green room at the Fillmore in Boston, before an intimate pre-album release show for members of their fan club. Eddie has completely forgotten about the video entirely, but Gareth’s phone pings with a text notification.
“A response has been issued!” He declares to the room, still grinning down at the screen of his phone.
The rest of the band shares a collectively confused look, all seeming pleased to find they’re not alone in whatever they’ve missed.
“What?” Jeff asks for the group.
In lieu of an explanation, Gareth just flips the phone in his hand around to show a TikTok, stitched with the clip they’d made earlier that morning.
~~~
“Marry. He’s hot, I’m not gonna kill him.”
#Stitch
“Is… is that supposed to be a compliment?” Steve asks, making a pinched face as he laces up his skates.
“You watched the whole video. He compared you to Joe Jonas.” The girl behind the camera responds, but he levels her with an unimpressed look. She doesn’t respond, and after a beat, he sighs.
“Yeah, alright, I guess Joe Jonas is hot. I’ll take the compliment.” He huffs, standing to his feet and moving from the bench he’d been suiting up on toward the ice. The girl follows him, gliding toward the net once they're in the rink, never falling out of pace with him.
“Do you know who it is talking in the video?” She presses, and Steve looks unimpressed again.
“You mean the other hot guy?” He asks with a grin, then nods. “That was Eddie. I’m surprised you don’t know him, the Party listens to Corroded Coffin all the time.”
The video loops back to the stitched clip from Gareth’s initial TikTok then. Everyone in the room processes what just unfolded.
“The Party? Did… did Steve Harrington just make a reference to DnD? Or is that some sports thing I dont understand?” Jeff asks.
Freak raises his hand, indicating he’s next to speak. “Not only that, but his nerdy DnD friends listen to us all the time?”
“Did King Steve call Joe Jonas hot?” Eddie asks, visibly still trying to connect the wires in his brain that fried at Steve’s agreement. “Did he call me hot?”
All three turn toward Eddie, whose face is still reflecting the long form math equation his brain is trying to work out, and Jeff sighs.
“Well, boys. I think we’ve officially lost him.” He says, bowing his head. Freak and Gareth join him solemnly, making Eddie huff and cross his arms over his chest.
“You’re all so dramatic.”
“Gee, I wonder who encouraged us to be this way,” Freak exaggerates through a grin, before shoving a guitar into Eddie’s chest, just in time for Paige to open the door and summon them.
“We can have a meltdown over Harrington after the gig,” Gareth promises with a pat to Eddie’s back as everyone moves around him, exiting the green room and heading for the stage.
~~~
Riding his post-show high, Eddie makes a bold move in the CC band TikTok, commenting under the video Steve had stitched.
corrodedcoff!n: we’ll be in chicago 1/26 if harrington94 and ‘the party’ are free 🎫
He only gets about 20 minutes of peace before Gareth is jumping around, proclaiming himself the greatest wingman in history.
“It’s an offer for free concert tickets made over social media, and he hasn’t even answered, Gare Bear.” Eddie tries to get him to relax, but he, too, is eager to see how the other reacts to the offer.
He wakes up the next morning to the answer he’d been waiting on, and his stomach flips as he reads it over.
harrington94: only if you guys come to the home game 1/27 🏒
__________
Steve doesn’t even bat an eye when Max shoves her way into the locker room, b-lining straight for him.
“Can I help you?” He asks without looking up, unhooking the padding from his calf and letting it drop to the ground in front of his locker.
“Are you using TikTok to publicly flirt with Eddie Munson?” She asks, voice quieter than he’d typically expect from her, but he just scoffs.
“I’m just being friendly! You’re the one who started this in the first place! What, you didn’t expect me to log on and check if they’d responded?” He asks in response, freeing his foot from the skate, before placing a cover over the blade and letting the boot drop into the lower shelf beside his locker.
“I’m just confused because you’ve been super weird about coming out, and now you’re out here hitting on a rockstar all over social media, that’s all.” Max says, and Steve freezes for a moment.
“Do you…” he trails off, before closing his eyes and rubbing a thumb into his temple. “You really think I just accidentally came out?”
“You called Joe Jonas and Eddie Munson hot, encouraged this rockstar to come to your game when he’s in town and also accepted tickets to see him perform, Steve.” Max was monotone, and held her hands up defensively when he groaned. “I’m not starting anything, I’m just saying that this could get blown out of proportion now.”
They discuss a little further, deciding neither of them will publicly acknowledge anything that’s been posted to the account for now, until they actually come up with a plan.
Once he’s in his car heading home, Steve calls Robin.
“Dingus,” she greets, as always, and he lets out a grumble. “Uh oh. What happened?”
“I think I accidentally came out on the internet, and it’s Eddie Munson’s fault.” He’s met with several seconds of silence as he starts his car on the path to him and Robin’s shared apartment.
“Eddie, the drug dealer from high school?” Robin eventually asks, confused, and Steve groans again.
“Yeah. He uh, also is in a band?” He supplies, and Robin’s quiet for a moment as she processes. Then, he hears the tapping of a keyboard. “What are you doing?”
“Looking Eddie up, obviously.” Steve can practically see her eye roll, even though they’re not FaceTiming. “You’re nothing if not consistent, I guess. Doe-eyed curly brunet.”
Steve scoffs. “You say as though you’re not the one currently waking up beside Nance every morning.”
He’s met again by a short silence, before Robin lets out a little puff of air, in a small laugh. “Thank you again for being so cool about that, by the way.” She says, before he hears clicking on her end. “Apparently, Eddie is out as bi. Corroded Coffin does a charity show for the Trevor Project every year, and he’s been to a lot of Pride events.”
Steve’s stomach twists with each new bit of information she provides, because a part of him wants to be that out, wants to be like Robin or apparently Eddie, freely sharing that part of themselves with the world and having no one give a shit. But that’s not how it works on so many levels for Steve. Beside the shit he’d have to deal with on the ice from certain other players, he had no idea how it would impact the team overall. There’s no way to gauge how fans would react, when there’s never been an openly gay player in the NHL. And that didn't even begin to touch on how his parents would react.
“Hey,” Robin breaks him out of his spiral and he realizes he’s been chewing a hole into his cheek. “I can hear how loud you’re thinking right now. Do you need me to come home?” She asks, gently, and he sighs.
“Please.” He mumbles after a long pause, and is grateful when he hears the jingle of car keys from the other end of the phone.
~~~
Robin scrolls through article after article once she gets to their place, pulling Steve onto the sofa with her and laying his head in her lap. Her fingers twist through his hair, doing her best to keep him calm as she reads up on the situation playing out to try and help gauge how big of a hole he’s dug himself this time.
“I don’t think there’s really anyone who thinks you were flirting with him. Not seriously, at least.” She tries to assure him, but he’d already seen the twitter posts to contradict that before she came over. He sighs and rolls onto his back, so he’s looking up at her, and shrugs.
“I kind of don’t think there’s any avoiding it, at this point.” He mumbles. “I’m not… I’m not ready to come out, not like this. Not on this scale. I think the only thing I can do is carry on and hope it doesn’t get turned into any bigger of a deal.”
Robin hums down at him, and continues to brush his hair back out of his eyes. “Okay. So you don’t come out yet. But don’t overcompensate for it, okay?” He scrunches his face up at her, and she types something into her phone before turning it back into his face. He immediately pales, met with a photo of him out with Heidi last year. With a black eye on full display, he looks miserable behind a fake smile.
“Low blow,” he grumbles, pushing himself away from Robin to sit up beside her, and she raises her eyebrow at him, still holding the photo pointed in his direction.
“‘Maybe they won’t notice or ask why my literal teammate punched me in the face at practice if I take a fucking supermodel out to dinner.’” Robin’s imitation is a little too good, a sure sign of too much time spent together.
“Hey, it worked, didn’t it!” He asks, taking the phone off of her and closing out of the image before locking it. He drops it back into her lap with a sigh. “I just don’t know how many times I can keep getting away with hiding it.”
“Well, it helps that Billy got traded out to LA. He would be insufferable about this, and would absolutely make everything 10 times worse.” Robin muses.
Steve sighs and hesitates for a moment before dropping his head back into her lap, curling into her. “I just want it to be on my terms, when I’m ready.”
“We’ll figure it out, and it’ll all be okay, no matter what. Okay?” She assures quietly, leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek.
His phone dings with a new notification; Max texted him a screenshot from TikTok.
corrodedcoff!n: you’ve got yourself a deal 🤝🏻
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cyberfreaky · 6 months
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dads!bestfriend simon who doesn’t care your boyfriend.
“f—fuck, i missed you.” simon grunted as he slammed his cock inside you, forehead pressed against yours while maintaining eye contact.
you felt a pang of guilt as you laid beneath simon, thinking of how you’d even face your boyfriend after this. the older man would see the look on your face and chuckle lowly, grabbing your jaw to give you a sloppy kiss. “don’t get all sappy now, love.” he tsk’ed, smiling as your moans grew louder.
“i…i feel..bad.” you whimpered softly, raw lips falling agape as simon began to pound you even harder. he didn’t give a shit about your guilt, all that mattered to him was you and your body.
“c’mon, darlin’. y’know you missed me, too.” simon groaned in your ear, his teeth nipping on that one spot that made you squirm. the flat of his tongue dragged down the side of your neck, sucking hellishly at your warm skin. of course you missed him.
it wasn’t that hard to guess when your cunt was swallowing his thick cock with such ease.
simon laughed tauntingly at how sensitive you were, he’d barely been inside you for 10 minutes and already you were on the verge of orgasming. he’d thrust even deeper inside you to make you scream. the most beautiful sound. “bet you think about me when he’s fuckin’ you.” simon groaned, feeling your soft walls tighten around him. “wishing it was me…mmffm…stuffin’ this pretty pussy.”
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— all rights reserved © cyberfreaky (2023) do not repost, translate or copy my work without given permission.
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genderkoolaid · 1 year
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Tranny. Many people don’t know the history of the word, they assume it was an assigned hate term or slur along the lines of the “n” word. That’s not how it happened. Tranny was invented by us in Sydney, Australia in the 1970s where drag was a big deal, and still the best drag shows ever are in Sydney, Australia – they’re amazing. So a lot of trans-identified women who were assigned male at birth did drag, that’s how you made your living. And so they were transsexuals, transvestites, drag queens, and they were all doing drag to make money. They all bickered amongst each other who is better than who, “Well the drag queens are better,” “No, the transsexuals are better.” “You are all freaks, we’re better.” And on and on and on. But they worked together and they were family together, so they came up with a word that would say family and that was tranny. In Australia they do the diminutive, that’s how they come up with words. So tranny. I learned the word in the mid-1980s, late 1980s from my drag mom in San Francisco, Doris Fish, who was the city’s preeminent drag queen and she’d come from Sydney. And she schooled me in this word tranny, she said, “This way it means we’re family, darling.” “Thank you mama.” [...] So we used it and we were trannies together. And F to M was just beginning to start, the trans men were just beginning to become visible, Lou Sullivan was a neighbor of mine around the corner, and he was the first big out trans man, wrote his book. So trans men and cross dressers . . . cross dressers were also family. Transsexuals, we were all trannies and that felt good. That got into the sex industry and became a genre – there was tranny porn, there were tranny sex workers – chicks with dicks, she-males. [...] And, my only guess is that people who . . . because the only way they would have found out about the word is if they were watching tranny porn or having been with a tranny sex worker and then hated themselves so much that they turned it into a curse word. So it’s not really technically correct to say we’re reclaiming a word – it was always ours. So, many people mistake the word for the hatred behind the word and, in my generation, and I’m sure in future generations of trans people, tranny is going to be a radicalized, sexualized identity of trans in the same way that faggot is a prideful identity in the gay male community – not all gay men are faggots, but those who are are proudly fags and those who are dykes are proudly dykes within the lesbian community, trannies are proudly tranny within the transgender community. Does that mean we can’t call ourselves that because some trans woman does not want to be called a tranny? No. I’m going to keep calling myself a tranny. To the trans woman who gets called tranny, I’m sorry – as soon as . . . you’ve got to look at why you’re getting called tranny and if you don’t pass, you’re going to be read as a transgender person and then you fall back on the cultural view of trans folk which is freak, disgusting, not worth living, we can hurt you. It has nothing to do with the word, it has everything to do with the cultural attitude. So the word has stirred up a shit storm, but it’s not the word.
— Kate Bornstein on the word "tranny" in this oral history from the Digital Transgender Archive
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