#based on personal experience

[time-com]

Classic Homeschool humor. Sometimes girlies drop the craziest lore you've ever heard.

[bowieluvr91]

[withlovemike]

internalised homophobia but not in the way you think. internalised homophobia that stems from emotional repression and a lack of self-awareness. internalised homophobia that isn't about the shame of liking boys but the shame of not liking girls. internalised homophobia that goes beyond “i don't like the opposite sex” and stumbles into “i'll always be alone in my sexuality and love and i can't let it happen so i'll believe i like the opposite sex hard enough to alter my feelings and emotions”.

mike wheeler who inadvertently feels the weight of social expectations thrust upon him; mike wheeler who thought once, privately and giddily, thank god i have a girlfriend, not by virtue of great love but of relief that he won't have to go through the pain and fear of outing himself or dying all alone and loveless.

internalised homophobia that isn't about self-hate, but puny attempts to save oneself from complete isolation—even by means of sacrificing personal integrity.

because liking the same sex isn't the problem; the fear of never finding love and having an unfulfilling lonely life is.

[overtimeatamalie]

Ilya starts taking SSRIs and it's a real bitch trying to find something that works so they switch to SNRIs. He is on Effexor for a few years when he decides to go off it, without consulting anyone, because it is slowing him down too much. That decision triggers a manic episode. It does scare Ilya (the depersonalization is a lot to deal with) but it makes Shane a complete wreck. Shane looked up the statistics of completed suicide in patients who go off Effexor when Ilya started taking it and wasn't a fan of the team doctor giving it to him to begin with because of it.

They manage to fast track an appointment with an actual psychiatrist and he gets re-diagnosed as Bipolar II and suddenly everything starts to make sense: his thrill seeking behavior and high sex drive are reframed as episodes of hypomania. He had been experiencing mixed episodes for most of his life without realizing it.

A combination of Lamictal, Abilify, and Wellbutrin levels him out. He ends up winning the Art Ross and Conn Smythe that season.

The misdiagnosis makes Shane reluctant to continue to engage in therapy and take medication, but when he accidentally mixes up his anti-anxiety meds with Ilya's Abilify Rx he finally finds something that works for him.

[bwamatoast]

playful morning.........

[chau0kun]

After an argument...

[forgotten80sfilm]

“amour” - @hollanovmicrofic - wc: 685

*TW/CW prescription drug use, withdrawal symptoms (nothing too bad, ilya just misses a dose of his ssnri and feels like shit for a little while).

when shane wakes up, he's greeted by the distinct sheen of cold sweat. it stripes across his bare abdomen where ilya's arm clings on to him, making their skin stick together like velcro. the rest of ilya- save for a mop of curls and the very tip of his nose- is covered, curled up in a ball of gray fleece.

"fuck." shane matters, trying to carefully extract himself from under ilya's arm. just touching his wrist ignites a full body shiver through him. shane freezes but thankfully ilya to retracts his arm into his blanket cacoon instead of tightening his grip.

he knows what this is. it doesn't happen often, not anymore. ilya has gotten so much better at taking care of himself, truly he has, but when things get too busy and hyper focused like they do right before playoff season it's easy to let routines slip. shane pads to the kitchen. he pours a glass of water first, then he retrieves a box of sesame seed crackers (known for their bland and boringness). finally he locates the culprit of the problem, a weekly pill organizer with the previous day's dose still sitting there untouched.

when he returns to their room, ilya is awake, no longer curled in a ball but instead splayed out flat, the blankets kicked off him, his eyes open wide and blinking.

"hey." shane sits down on his side of the bed, setting down the box of crackers and water on the nightstand nearest him.

ilya rolls his head towards him and the movement seems heavy. that's how ilya described it once, when he's in withdrawal his brain gets too heavy inside his skull with all the building pressure. shane can see the moment he recognizes the pills in shane's hand. his face crumples up like a piece of paper, pressing his eyes shut.

"я чертов идиот.*"

"no, none of that, come on," shane nudges his shoulder with his knee, "sit up so you can take these."

he does as shane says, heaving himself upward against the headboard, chewing his mandatory so-you-don't-throw-up cracker and then swallowing his meds with a sip of water. he looks fucking exhausted. getting himself comfy once again, propped up on a two stack of pillows, shane guides ilya's head back to his chest.

"practice." ilya protests.

"optional practice," shane counters, beginning to card his fingers through ilya's hair to try to seperate out some of the matted curls, "i already texted bood that we aren't coming."

shane can feel the hot tears begin to pool where ilya's face is smushed against his skin.

"i'm sorry."

"just sleep baby, you'll feel better in a few hours."

and he does. the three hours between six and nine am give his brain enough time to balance its serotonin and norepinephrine. shane has his reading glasses on and his phone in hand, scrolling through the oblivion that is the group chat between him, rose and miles. he's not surprised when ilya's hand suddenly reaches up and snatches it away from him, tossing his phone towards the foot of the bed.

"asshole." he laughs softly.

"morning." ilya props his chin up on shane's sternum.

"good morning." shane smiles. ilya's still a little pale but his eyes are bright and his cold sweat broke about an hour ago, "you have any fun dreams while you were all fucked up?"

"ugggggghhhhhh," ilya groans but his face lights up that way it does when he has a good story to tell "we were lost in boston airport and you would only speak stupid canadian-french to me. i say shane we will miss our flight! speak english! and you say oui, je m'appelle shane.* i wanted to kill you."

"aww, je que tu aimes secrètement mon français.*"

"no, bad." ilya scowls, "no more of that." he tries to grabs shane's lips to pinch his mouth shut but shane slaps his hands away at every turn, shoving him off.

"mon amour." shane teases and ilya is wrestling him in earnest now, trying to headlock him.

"shane stop, i will have devastating mental health episode."

—

*i’m a fucking idiot.

*yes, my name is shane.

*aw, i know you secretly love my french.

[dumplingsjinson]

List of “even more stuff based on personal experience” prompts

“What if I just continued to rile you up?” (MFER ON A STICK-)

“And if I continue to tease you like this…”

“Fuck, you need to stop teasing me like this, please.”

“I’ll touch myself if you do, too.”

Character B telling Character A to touch themselves while they’re already fondling with themselves.

Character B dipping their head down to eat Character A out without warning, causing Character A to gasp loudly and bite their bottom lip.

“I like it when you tell me what to do.”

Character B teasing Character A’s nipples with their fingers (or tongue) and enjoying the way they’re making Character A break (in a good way) completely from that; flicking them and rolling the buds between their fingers.

From soft little kisses from the face to the jaw to the neck, to hungrily leaving marks on their neck.

“You’re so warm, and it turns me on so much.”

“Fuck me,” Character B whispers harshly as Character A grinds down against them.

“Why are you looking up at me from down there?” Character A questions, threading their fingers through Character B’s hair as they glance down at them, their head lingering between their thighs. “Because you’re hot and I like looking at you,” Character B says with a grin.

Character B planting kisses on their inner thighs after eating them out.

Anytime Character A would comment on how hot it is, Character B would butt in and ask, “Like you?”

From soft banter to Character B leaving even more marks on Character A’s neck.

“You turn me on so much.”

“I’m so wet/hard.” “Well, good.”

“Fuck you,” Character A laughs. “Sure,” Character B says, a soft underlying teasing tone to their voice, laced in that one word they say. Character A sighs loudly, “Oh my God, what the hell, I didn’t mean it like that—”

Character A holding Character B’s hands as Character B eats them out, fingers intertwined. (PRO-TIP: HOLD HANDS WHILE YOU GET TONGUED FUCKED, IT'S GREAT)

“You’ve seen literally everything.” “And I like what I saw.”

“You’re the only one who’s seen everything. Be honoured.” “Well, I’m glad I have that privilege.”

“Well, how do you like it when I touch myself?” “It... Turns me on.”

“I’m a mess right now.” “Hmm… And I wonder why that is?” “Hmm, yeah, I wonder why, too.”

Character A playing with Character B’s buttcheeks and giggling about it, only for Character B to get their revenge later on.

“You have my permission to do whatever you want with me.”

“God, I wanna sit on your face so bad.”

“Keep it down a bit more, won’t you?” “How about fuck you?” 

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

Character A fucking themselves on Character B's tongue.

Being ate out so good they can’t stop the lewd noises coming from their mouth.