#FUCK EVERYTHING I'M NOT OK

[madootles]

dramatic eyes. dramatic lips. drama on the cheeks.

sketch

[trasho-pando2011]

[euro2024isoverthankfuck]

Soft, unbothered Taeminnie before the world ends ❤️

bonus:

[ragnarockz]

Tip Jar 💰

Well...

Sweet Dreams are Made of This

Date Everything Betty x Female Reader 🩷🛏️👓🥵

Music inspo: Loser - Beck, Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This) - Eurythmics, Whose Bed Has Your Boots Been Under? - Shania Twain, Longview - Green Day, Strange Love - Depeche Mode

Rest.

Complete submission into the recesses of your mind until it winds down and oozes into a complete and total emptiness.

Unrest.

Tossing and turning until your mind races too hard and too fast for far too long and whatever mild comfort you may have experienced is now dissolved.

And both of these were taken upon in bed; your bed. You came home to it every night after school, after work. You came more familiar with it when you were let go of your job and the days and nights seemed to stretch and blend and morph into one long, monogamous existence.

You had slumped into your bed after the news of getting fired or, well, in a jobless limbo of unknowing. Your head hit the pillow and you let out a loud and deep sigh. It felt like you were sinking into your mattress with nothing but the weight of despair hanging above you like a dark cloud. You shifted around until you got somewhat comfortable and even still you didn't find sleep right away.

There was always something, usually that helped knock you right out. No, it wasn't a cold glass of water or a melatonin pill or two. It was, without fail, shoving your arm down between your body as you lay stomach down to your bed. The pressure of your body on your hand; the weight of your arm pressed to the mattress as your fingers snake in past your comfiest pair of sleep shorts.

You're not exactly turned on, not yet. It could be pretty hard especially with the reality of the day hanging over you and clinging to the back of your mind. You had been 'let go' because of AI. Everything you had put into this job from the application to the interview had all gone down the toilet in just days. Dreams and hopes and aspirations flushed away and now, maybe pathetically, you were trying to muster up your ego with rubbing one out.

Naturally.

You try to let your mind wander away from work and into something more enjoyable, sensual. You press down a little harder into your hand and feel the perfect amount of pressure your middle and ring finger apply against your clit. You can feel it throb against the pads of your fingers as you sink a little deeper into your fantasies.

You're above them; someone sweet and soft. You feel safe in their arms and against their body. You can press your face into the side of their neck and feel security there and the lingering scent of warmth and comfort. There's a sensation of freshness, newness. You've never felt more at home with them or anyone. You can fall right into them and feel complete.

A strangled moan falls from your mouth and fills your empty bedroom.

Your hand and the sheets underneath you are soaked. Damp and uncomfortable now. You feel sticky between your legs and you realize your entire body is covered in sweat. You blow out a hot breath from your lips as you roll up and off of your cum covered hand. You know the small patch of sheet beneath you is wet and shamelessly smells like a mix of you and your sweat and laundry detergent.

You had just washed these sheets and now they were ruined.

"Goddamnit...forfuckssake..."

Spills from your mouth as you crawl out of your bed to get out of your shame and the mess you've let behind. Your feet hit the plush carpet under your bed and you feel a little bit better; the comfort filling your body once more. You stretch across your bed; breasts pressing into the mattress to full reach around to pull your sheets off. They expand at the corners where the elastic is a little bit tighter; hugging those corners so they don't spring up the second your weight falls into bed.

They spring off easily enough as you bundle up the soiled sheets, gathering it up into your arms. You hear a dull thud hit the carpet near your feet and peer down in curiosity.

Ah.

One of your toys you had stashed away under the right pillow on your bed.

You drop the sheets to pick up the toy; palm sized and great suction. The battery life is pretty good, too. It's dependable and always gets the job done when you need that extra bit of friction and suction against your clit. You place it on your night table and continue on with hauling your dirty sheets downstairs to throw into the hamper.

As you pass through the kitchen and the bathroom, you can't help but linger in the doorway to your office. You sigh and realize it'll just be a computer room once again until you maybe, hopefully, find another work-from-home job. You stare at your monitor and keyboard and the desk chair you got to feel proud in for all of 3 days.

The box.

You almost forgot about the box.

You maneuver into your office in the dark with ease and pick up the box you had placed on the edge of your desk. The tape that holds the lid closed is easily picked away by your fingernails as you get it open and lift out a pair of...glasses? Sunglasses?

You turn them around in your hand as you let the box fall back onto the desk. They look...normal enough? Not really your style but somewhat stylish. You slip them on to get a feel of them perched on your nose and suddenly, instantly, your office glows.

There's a warmth in here that's equal to the warmth you feel when you get into your bed at the end of the day. Something that makes your heart feel lighter and more open; at ease without the weight of the world.

Bed.

You peel away from your office and trudge back up the stairs and hook a left into your bedroom.

Your bed.

She's glowing.

You don't understand it and yet, you do. You focus a little harder on that space you love so much even when it's stripped bare; the white mattress a stark parallel from the rest of the darkened room.

She materializes right in front of you with a smug teasing look on her soft curvaceous lips. You can only think of kissing them and what they would feel like against your own lips...your neck, the inside of your thigh...

It isn't until you hear a little creak from her that you look at her fully that you realize she's standing in the middle of your room naked.

Oh god.

The sheets.

"Oh...this is not how I thought our first meeting would go, Sugar..."

You don't know where to look, if you should look. You feel your face flush as you try to clear your throat. You try to bring your focus back on her lips and only her lips. Truly, she'll understand this was just a big misunderstanding.

"Give yourself some credit...meeting me for the first time? Striped bare just after...well...after you had your little burst of fun on top of me? Wasn't that nice? Me, holding you up and keeping you warm and safe while you just...oh...completely unraveled on me...god, Baby..."

You don't know what to say and if you should even say anything. You understand you're speaking to your bed but...

"Maybe I should give you my name first, Sweetness...it's Betty...use it next time...you...well..."

She eyes you head to toe before she puts a finger in her mouth and grins.

So much in safety at staring only at her lips.

"Betty? My...bed?"

"Mmhmm...you got it, Sugar...but, more than just your bed...especially now that you can see me...isn't that right, Pumpkin? You love looking at me...don't you?"

And that's your invitation to drag your gaze away from her lips and fully take her in; full-formed.

You almost feel yourself go faint at the sight of her.

Her curves continue away from her mouth and all your brain and body want to do is sink into her. Soft and plush and filled out in all the right places. Her hair is soft and the dusty rose colour of your pillow shams. She is quite literally looking at you with bedroom eyes and suddenly, you realize the purpose of the glasses you wear.

"Maybe you should get a little closer and finish what you started..."

"What?"

You finally find your voice as you totter over the edge; your right foot already daring to take a step closer to Betty.

She opens up her arms and god forbid you steal your eyes away from her breasts which look insanely soft and full. Your brain wants to say stuffed but you know that's more of a way to describe...

Oh.

Pillows.

She laughs heavy and breathy when she sees the way your face is flushed. Purposefully, teasingly, she pulls her shoulders back just enough so she could cup her breasts from the side and push them forwards, squishing them together. Betty uses her pointer finger of her right hand to curl towards herself; calling you over.

Your feet move as if on their own as you close the gap between you and Betty. She's biting her bottom lip and breathing heavily; chest heaving as she keeps her hands exactly where they've been. You just want to shove your face in between her breasts; much like all those times you've shoved your face down in between your pillows to scream or cry or...

Fuck.

When you felt like you had to muffle your screams and moans from the intensity of your orgasms; the way you've fingered and fucked yourself to oblivion. The way your clit became throbbing and swollen and sore to the touch. Sheets soaked and body completely wrecked.

"That's right, Baby...you know these very well...just like you know me very well and I know you...all the ways your body covers mine...grinding and humping and fucking. You're a wet, whiny little thing, aren't you? A little lonely but you get the job done, don't you?"

Her hands release from her breasts and you watch gravity do its beautiful job.

You're so close to Betty now and can sense warmth radiating from her and the cozy scent of fresh laundry. She's not stuffy at all; not smothering in the way that gives you anxiety but just the right about of swaddling that makes you feel secured.

And you feel very secure the second she wraps her arms around you and pulls you in for a tight hug.

Of course, you have no real way of getting out of where you have to put your head; your face. Betty basically bear hugs you against her breasts and you fall into them and find them even softer and plushier than your pillows. You moan against her skin and she giggles before she pulls you away from her embrace.

"I've been thinking of doing that for so long...you really do have a thing for...well...you really do love pillows, hm?"

You mumble incoherently under your breath and the only thing that stops you is the way Betty looks at you with a hunger in her half-lidded eyes you hadn't seen before.

"Oh, believe me...I've seen the types of videos and pictures you look at on your phone at night...you have a thing for big boobs. I get it. Good thing you got me and mine...I mean, whenever you want them to oh...I don't know...play or squeeze...lick or bite or suck..."

She lets the s in suck drag out and you feel that all-familiar pang between your legs; itching to get back into bed and fuck yourself silly. You can feel that you and Betty aren't quite there yet but god, does she love saying the dirtiest things to you regardless.

A shameless flirt.

Which makes sense; your bed does lure you in at all hours of the day to laze about and eventually turn to masturbation. She's a bad influence.

And you love it.

"You should take those glasses off now, Baby so you can get back into me...on me...against me...put some fresh sheets on to cover me up and finish. I know you weren't even close to being done...you can wet another set of sheets for me tonight, I don't mind..."

You eye her up and down once more; soaking in every inch of her so maybe, hopefully you can put her in your minds eye to help as a fantasy to get off to. You're sure it'll work with the way Betty looks and how she talks. Soft and alluring; a little mysterious and totally unfiltered. She's just as horny as you and maybe that's your doing. She is, your bed after all and, you do do lot of masturbating on top of her...under her? Inside of her?

Your hands shake as you reach for your glasses and take them off.

The glow disappears and you're left within the darkness of your plain, boring room.

Your bed is your bed now; four posters with a naked mattress.

And you want nothing more than to please Betty. You turn yourself around and head towards your closet to look for a fresh set of bed sheets to don Betty with now. She deserves fresh and clean; something that smells nice against her skin. She also deserves, as she's graciously reminded you, to be fucked on and against. Rolling your hips down into her plushness with your face down into her pillows and your ass up for her to see.

She deserves it all.

The comforts of rest.

And you? In this changed reality?

Deserve the sleepless nights with heat and wetness between your legs; soaking yourself over and over against with your fingers, your toys. The scrunched up sheets between your clit and folds.

You put your sheets on with rapid success before you haul up your comforter and pillows onto your bed, your Betty, once again. This time however, you strip completely before you get back into your bed completely naked. You reach over to gather up your toy you had placed on the night table minutes ago. The little toy hums to life on the strongest setting as you bring it down between your legs.

The way you fuck yourself this time around is a little more calculated in your movements. You grind down a little harder into your mattress and grab your pillows a little tighter. You let your sheets and comforter wrap around you and hold your legs all tangled. You make sure to moan and whine and pant as loud as you can in hopes that Betty is enjoying this just as much as you are.

[nepotisim]

I'm so tired of phrases like "anti-woke". Just say you're a racist/homophobic weirdo.

[chanelle-lize]

I used to have a really hard time bringing up the fact that I graduated from high school a year late without feeling the need to explain why and insisting that it wasn't my fault while simultaneously kicking myself for how much I sounded like I was just making excuses for something I should take responsibility for.

Then I watched Dimension 20's "The Seven" and suddenly I could simply say that I was a super senior.

The first time I heard the phrase "super senior" was in reference to Antiope Jones, a Black girl who had been held back a year after getting kidnapped and imprisoned by members of a fundamentalist cult, and like, girl, same.

So, since then, instead of anxiously spinning out any time I tried to tell a personal high school anecdote, I could just say I was a super senior, and then my brain would auto complete that statement with "like Antiope Jones" and I'd feel good about myself because Antiope Jones Is That Bitch.

That's what the problem had been the whole time. I wasn't worried about how other people would perceive me; I had been struggling with how I perceived myself.

Thanks, Aabria.

[batfam-stuff-posts-0]

(Curious because I have 4 (this is my main one but I had a tumblr once before and realized putting all my obsessions in one blog doesn't really work for me))

[babacontainsmultitudes]

Actual footage of Tony trying to talk to Kelsey this episode:

Now what I personally need is for her to despise him for a while then for them to have some big heart to heart and them to become best friends OKAY I'm very invested in what's become of their dynamic and I'm all here for "Punished" Tony the wet cat that he is I yield the rest of my time thank you.

[rocketbirdie]

furthering my understanding of the SOLDIER helmet so i can more accurately depict my bucketheaded blorbo.

my research has led me to an enlightening conclusion: i can, should, and will continue to do whatever i want, actually

[drakkonyan]

Shu takumi himself appeared in a dream and revealed this to me

Text: (over Apollo) "has kissed but doesn't want to overwhelm him"

(over Klavier) "has never kissed but reads shit tons of fanfiction (he learnt all the wrong things from it)

[twilightakiishi]

made that template for three :3 venchiya rundown!!! more in tags if u care

[macbethisms]

underrated thing about wang baoxiang is how utterly pathetic he is. intentionally provokes his brother every time they interact because having esen be mad at him for something he did on purpose is easier than being vulnerable and then is like how could esen think i hate him :(( goes around rolling his eyes at all these Idiots who don't consider the Needs of the Common Folk and then gets grossed out whenever a servant dares to speak to him. constantly thinking about Hot Men Exercising and how much they all want to fuck each other probably. hasn't emotionally matured past the age of fifteen (he is twenty-three). thinks of himself as a Character instead of a person so much that he gets surprised whenever the things he did for their narrative significance have actual real consequences. while being quite literally haunted by a specter of his own guilt is like hm what could this mean. well time to not sleep for another 36 hours. kills people and then throws up about it and then goes off to kill more people because surely this is the one that will fix everything right. wants to be punished for what he's done because it's the closest he can get to admitting he feels remorse. looks for his brother everywhere but only ever finds himself.

which of course culminates with him stalking miserably through the hallways looking for someone to be mad at because there needs to be someone else responsible for making his life suck but there isn't anymore because no one has power over him anymore. and he can't go back but tries to convince himself that he doesn't want to because he also needs to see himself as being In Control of Everything That's Ever Happened to Him. he wanted it all along and he likes it here actually. and he won fratricide chicken and got himself tortured and tried to show mercy and did every evil dishonorable thing and now he just has to live with it all forever. loser!!!!

[deoidesign]

important distinction.

Testing a few different things with this one

[piscoyt]

hihi could i please request a r0hkx?

little guy delivery 👩‍🔧

he's explaining how the one shot works :3

[saints-who-never-existed]

As much as I enjoy picking apart and having Emotions TM about Little's many low points - his failures and the indignities he suffers at the hands of fate and his fellow man - that darkness just can't hit the same unless you consider the light too (and I think many out there do fail to consider that light).

He isn't compelling to me just by how many times he gets knocked down, he's compelling for the fact that he gets back up again.

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

what you have to keep in mind abt arthur being a dickhead and kind of losing it in s3 is that like. it was right after the prison pits. i'm not even talking about the emotional/mental impact here i'm talking purely abt the fact that the dude's physical body was shutting down for like 80 different unrelated reasons the whole time.

he hasn't eaten in over a day or longer. he hasn't eaten anything besides raw meat and hasn't seen the sun and has been coasting juuuust at the edge of Organ Failure levels of dehydration for roughly Three Months. a significant amount of his blood is currently feeding wolves in the snow outside addison because of the neck wound and compound stab-through-skin fractures in his legs that he had to set by himself. also after the red right hand he's hungover or recovering from being poisoned or maybe both. of course he's having a mental breakdown. every single warning light is going off at the same time here. that's basically the only reasonable reaction.