#I FEEL SO EMPTY!!!!!!! i'm just like... i'm really just some shell of a person

[alittlebitofrainbyyourside]

Fopps was like 'why have you removed yourself from 90% of your social spaces' and I do not know how to explain that like... it's not that anyone has upset me or that like- Okay, there is an element of like 'the way I care about people is wrong and I am a terrible human being for leading everyone on' but that's like- complicated and more fleeting. 90% of it is absolutely just 'if you give me a captive audience, I will trauma dump rn.' tumblr is mostly safe rn because I frequently forget that I have the ability to make posts and not just reblog things.

[auroralwriting]

spencer smut perhaps? he's all shy but the second your lips touch his he snaps?

guilty as sin

spencer reid x fem!bau!reader (18+)

you think spencer's too shy to do anything, until he gets a taste of you

word count: 2.7k

warnings: smut, dirty talk, p-in-v, wrap it before you tap it, sort of dom!spencer, multiple orgasms, spencer is whipped, season seven spencer is implied, soft and fluffy but also a smidgen kinky, spencer’s a gentleman, he’s still a nerd, begging, orgasm denial, he’s also a tease, light praise, it’s smut you get the gist

"Oh, come on? You're seriously going to sit there and tell me nothing happened with Lila Archer?" Emily laughed as she sipped on her beer.

It was a chilly autumn night. Your team had just returned home from a case a few hours prior. You were still dressed in your work clothes, like the rest of our colleagues. Somehow, you were convinced to go to the bar before it got too late into the evening. A sort of celebration that you all had caught the killer so quick with only two casualties. That was rare. Emily had even convinced Hotch to join you all. Since meeting Beth, he'd began to grow out of his shell. It was nice to see him happy again.

The liquor in all of your systems was enough to allow the silly conversations to flow with ease. Seeing as Emily and you had not been on the team when the Lila Archer stalking case was worked on, you had a fair amount of questions.

"You were with Lila Archer, alone, for hours on end," Emily took a sip of her drink as she continued her mini-rant. "and you didn't bang her?"

Derek emitted a slight chuckle, "Well, she did make out with him in the pool."

"The pool? Spence, you dog!" You gasped, quickly following it up with a laugh.

Deep down, this conversation bothered you. Maybe it was due to the fact that you had the biggest crush on Spencer. Or it could have been the way JJ was staring at you, no doubt profiling you. She was the only one who knew of your feelings for the genius. Of course, she was nothing but comforting and supportive. JJ was trying to catch a read on if she should end this conversation before it really got to you.

"I- She initiated it," Spencer weakly defended. "I just, well, kissed her back." The whole table erupted in oohs and laughs.

You kept your longings locked from the man. Kept in faded color, lowercase, locked away inside some secret vault you kept in your heart. It was better this way.

"You don't have it in you to do anything more, my man." Derek slapped Spencer's back. His words, meant to be supportive, just plain were not. "A man of honor, truth, justice, pat-"

"All right, I think we've all had enough to drink tonight." Hotch cut off Derek's drunken ramble. "Let's all make sure to call cabs home."

You grabbed your belongings, just a jacket, purse, and scarf, and stood up along with the rest of your friends. Everyone bid each other goodnight, small hugs passed along. Reaching in your purse, you went to grab the twenty you'd left, just in case. Your purse, however, was seemingly empty, besides a lipstick and your wallet. "Oh, shit." You muttered, having no way to pay for a ride home.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Spencer asked, hearing your call of distress.

Shaking your head, you pursed your lips. "I don't have any cash to get home."

Spencer was quick to reply, "Oh, well why don't you just ride with me? Riding with another person is thirty to fifty percent more safe than being alone, especially while intoxicated. Uh, you can just spend the night, I know you live further away and I'm sure you're tired."

"Thanks, Spence. I'll pay you back," You offered as the two of you walked outside. You felt a chill run up your spine due to the cold, September air.

"It's no problem." Spencer nodded, reaching over to slightly tighten your scarf. The touch of his fingertips on your neck was enough to warm you up completely.

Penelope gave you one last squeeze as you hopped inside the cab with Spencer. The ride would only be fifteen minutes away from his apartment, which wasn't bad.

You stared out the window, watching as it fogged. You dragged your finger over the condensation, drawing yourself a little picture to keep occupied. Your eyes cast up on their own, deciding to focus on the reflection in the window. You were sure glad they did. Spencer was staring at you, unaware that you could see him. His stare sent another round of shivers down your spine.

Always the gentleman, Spencer helped you out of the car once you'd arrived to his apartment. It hit you that you'd actually never been to Spencer's apartment before. You wondered if it looked anything like you'd imagined.

And it was. Exactly as you'd imagined, actually. Dim, warm lights that gave a cozy feeling. He had a brown, leather couch with a green blanket over the top. Books were scattered all over the apartment, but it was done neatly. They were probably organized in a way that would only make sense to Spencer.

"Sorry it's such a mess," Spencer apologized, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

"It's not at all," You replied. "I guess you've never seen my place."

Spencer hummed, "I haven't."

Being a good host, Spencer offered to make you some tea. You sat at his island while he poured some water in a kettle to heat up.

"So, you know you can be honest with me, right?" You decided to awkwardly start a conversation. The silence was just not doing it for you.

"Of course I know that," Spencer nodded. His back was turned to you as he prepped your mugs.

You shook off your nerves, "Did you actually not sleep with Lila Archer?"

Spencer turned around at your words. "I didn't sleep with Lila Archer." He confirmed. "If I did, you know Morgan wouldn't stop talking about it for the rest of our lives."

A small chuckle came from you. "He really wouldn't." You mused.

"Plus, she's, uh, not my type." Spencer boldly continued after a pause of silence.

"What is your type?" You asked curiously, heart increasing, a deep hope he said you were his type.

"I don't know." Spencer mumbled.

The kettle began to whistle, you could see Spencer's body physically relax at this. A distraction. He passed you the tea which you graciously thanked him for. The two of you sat in a comforting silence as you drank.

Spencer looked so gorgeous in this way. His hair was a bit disheveled, untamed from the long flight. His eyes held no signs of tiredness. Your case was in California. You'd left this morning. He must've also slept the whole way home. His brown locks mesmerized you. Oh, how you wanted to curl your fingers in them. Not to mention the ghost of stubble on his face. You imagined tracing your fingers over it softly, wishing to feel him shiver under your touch.

Maybe it was the remaining alcohol still in your system, or maybe pining after him wasn't doing it anymore. You don't know what came over you when you leaned forward, your nose nearly touching his.

Spencer didn't move, you didn't move. It was an odd standoff. "Spence," You softly mumbled his name. You could see his eyes staring down- oh. At your lips. Somehow, you knew he wouldn't do it You watched the way his adams apple bobbed as he swallowed a gulp of nerves.

It was like he couldn't speak. But you knew it the moment you locked eyes again. You'd know that look anywhere; desperation. It was probably gleaming in your eyes, too. You could definitely feel it.

A sudden wave of confidence crashed over you and you felt yourself pushing your lips against Spencer’s. It took him maybe a full second to process what was happening. His large hands came to grab your face, pressing you closer to him. The kiss felt like nothing you’d expected of Spencer. He took control over the situation quickly. He pushed against you hard, slipping his tongue between your slightly parted lips. It was messy, rough, yet filled with such genuine passion it was dizzying.

“Spence,” You pulled back breathlessly. His eyes were filled with something new, something more lustful.

He softly shushed you, hands still on your face, pulling you back in. It was slightly teeth-clashing, hot. “I’ve been waiting for this,” Spencer muttered between kisses, his voice a near whine. “Just couldn’t make the first move.”

Spencer pulled back, rushing around the counter to where you sat. He pushed apart your legs to stand in between them. His fingers grabbed your chin, thumb on it and his first finger under your chin. He gently forced your head to look up to him. His cheeks were flushed, and you assumed yours were a near identical reflection.

“Tell me what you want,” Spencer whispered. “Tell me what you want and I’ll give you anything, everything.”

“You, I just want you.”

That’s all it took for Spencer to kiss you again. your hands went around his neck to pull off his tie, your hands then moving to unbutton his dress shirt. His worked just as quickly to undo yours.

“Not here,” Spencer muttered, eyes falling to your half-bare chest. “My room’s down the hall.”

With Spencer’s hand in your own, you quickly ran to his bedroom, a soft giggle escaping your lips and how cliché this all felt. Spencer couldn’t help but smile at your amusement. You leapt onto his bed, landing on your knees as you wrapped your arms around his neck, playing with the hair that ended on the back of his head.

“Hi, boy genius.” You smiled, voice soft and warm. It reminded Spencer of a hot vanilla latte, or maybe something like a cinnamon roll. Sweet, warm, delicious.

“Hi, pretty girl.” Spencer replied, thumb rubbing sweetly over your cheek.

You both stared into each others eyes for a moment, taking in the delicacy of the intimate moment. Spencer slowly pushed his lips onto yours. It was the most gentle kiss of the evening, and it reminded you that Spencer wasn’t doing this because he felt like it. No, you were his type. Not Lila, you.

Spencer and you slowly discarded the rest of your clothing, allowing Spencer to slowly drag his fingers over your bare skin, admiring your beauty. “You’re almost as beautiful as Aphrodite,” he muttered. “I would say prettier, but the ancient Greek believed it would curse whomever was called more beautiful because Aphrodite wanted to remain the most beautiful.”

Even during moments like this, you loved Spencer’s rambles. Slowly, Spencer began to kiss all around your jaw, moving down your neck and to your chest. Your hands found his hair as you arched into him. He spent some time licking and sucking on your chest, loving the way you sounded for him, the way you pulled on his hair. He loved the smell of your skin, how soft it felt beneath his lips and tongue.

“Spencer,” you whined, pulling harder on his hair.

The man looked up to you, eyes gleaming as his mouth popped off you with a small pop. “Yeah, baby?”

“I need more,” you replied.

“Like what?” Spencer teased, slowly dragging his finger down your stomach. “Need more here?” He asked, playfully biting at your chest. “Or… here?” Spencer’s fingers trailed over your thigh, slowly moving from the inside to the out.

You groaned, “Oh, there! Please, there!”

Spencer also groaned in reply, “Didn’t take you as a begger,” he muttered. “but I love it.”

Slowly, Spencer moved his finger to your aching core. It slowly ran through your folds, causing you to moan loudly. “Spence,”

“Is this all for me?” Spencer cockily asked, referring to your wetness. You nodded quickly, pulling him down to kiss you once more. As he kissed you, he slid a finger inside, just to the first knuckle to gather some of your slick. He brought it back out and slowly began to circle your clit with it. Pulling back from the kiss, you became a mess of moans, whines, and breathy sounds. Spencer slowly kissed up and down your neck as he played with your sensitive bundle of nerves. “This enough for you, baby?”

“Inside,” you stumble out. “Please, inside me.”

Spencer couldn’t help but give you exactly what you wanted. How could he when you begged so nicely for him? He brought that same finger back inside, plunging it until it reached his final knuckle. Slowly, he began to pump it in and out of you, allowing you grace to adjust to the new object inside you.

“How’s that?” Spencer asked.

“Good, so good,” You babbled.

His finger multiplied and became two. They pumped in and out, adding slight curls to his fingers every now and again. His thumb went back to your clit, slowly rubbing it for added pleasure. “This what you wanted, sweet girl? This what you’ve imagined me doing to you?”

“Yes, yes!” You moaned.

Spencer smiled, “I’m not going to lie, I’ve imagined this moment for the last year.” In any other occasion, you would’ve became bashful at the declaration, but you were already too far gone with the alcohol and pleasure in your system.

It was then Spencer’s fingers hit your soft spot, causing your back to arch. “Oh, baby!” You cried out, grabbing onto the man above you and wrapping your legs around his waist to feel him deeper.

“There?” He asked.

“Oh, yes! There!” You answered quickly.

Spencer worked his magic, adding another finger as you stretched for him. It didn’t take long for your first orgasm to hit you like a sea of stars. Spencer softly shushed you, helping you relax.

“You okay?” Spencer smoothed your hair as he looked at you carefully.

You nodded, “Please, Spence. I want you.”

Spencer wasted no time lining himself up with you, allowing some of your slick to gather on his hard-on. He pushed in, causing you both to groan in unison.

“Oh my god,” he breathlessly said. “You’re so tight, oh my god. Baby, you feel so good.” His voice raised, slightly higher than normal as he resisted the urge to move until you said so.

“Move, move, please,” You told him. He wasted no time pushing his hips forward and backward, pulling your legs up around his hips once more.

He fit you so good, so right. Everything in that moment felt perfect, like he was made for you. You were made for him. It took Spencer less than a minute to be snapping his hips in record time. You felt like your eyes were going to roll back at the pleasure.

Spencer grabbed your chin the way he did earlier, “Look at me, baby. Wanna see your pretty eyes.”

Still reeling from your last orgasm, it took you no time to feel your climax approaching once more. “Spence, I need to come,”

“Not yet,” He groaned. “‘M almost there, baby. Hold on,” You felt a loud whine emit from your throat. The sound of it made Spencer’s dick throb, and you felt it. “Doing so good for me, honey. Oh, god, I’m almost there. So good.”

You were on the brink of orgasm. You weren’t sure if you could hold it any longer. “Spencer!”

“Where?” He asked.

“In, oh my god,” You practically were yelling at this point.

“Let go, baby,” Spencer’s words were all you needed to finally reach that sweet, sweet release again. You felt him spill inside you, the warmth making your orgasm feel even better. Spencer’s arms slowly gave out above you, and he slowly fell onto your chest. He pressed his lips to your hair, a sweet gesture.

The two of you laid there, catching your breath. You played with Spencer’s curls as he gently rubbed your cheek with his thumb. “I kind of have a crush on you,” You admitted jokingly, knowing he knew.

“Yeah?” He chuckled. “I do too.” He sat up, pulling out of you. You wished he didn’t; it felt so empty. “You gotta go pee, right?”

“Yeah,” You groaned lazily, slowly sitting up. “Hey, you’re gonna take me on a date after this, right?”

Spencer nodded with a smile, “I already have it planned. Now, go use the bathroom so we can fall asleep together.”

You mock saluted at him, “Yes, sir. I’ll be right back.”

Who knew your night out would lead to the best night of your life?

[thedreamingdevil]

Could I make a request where JiU is so exhausted and sleep deprived that she just goes along with anything that is suggested or asked of her? One guy realises this and gets her to agree to dry anal. After which, he convinces her to suck his cock clean.

Untitled 1: JiU

You're one of the staff members in DCC, and you've noticed that JiU has been utterly exhausted lately. The grueling schedule of 12-hour days, constant performances and promotions, and sleep deprivation have taken a toll on her.

She's so tired that she just goes along with whatever is suggested or asked of her by anyone. Her usual vibrant and bubbly personality has been reduced to a meek, submissive shell of her former self.

One evening after a particularly long day of practice, you corner JiU alone in an empty dance studio. She's sitting on the floor, her arms wrapped around her knees, her head resting on them in exhaustion. You crouch down next to her, placing a hand on her thigh.

"Yah JiU, you're looking really beat. How about you let me help you blow off some steam? I know just the thing to perk you up and get that cute ass of yours warmed up before bed," you say with a lecherous grin, giving her thigh a squeeze.

In her dazed state, JiU simply nods along, too tired to protest or refuse. "O-okay... if you think it'll help me feel better..."

You smirk, knowing you've got her exactly where you want her. You stand up and grab JiU by the arm, pulling her up into a standing position. "Great! Let's head to the locker room then. I'll 'relax' you so good, you'll be dreaming of my cock later."

JiU doesn't resist at all as you lead her by the hand to the locker room and shove her inside, closing the door behind you both. The locker room is dimly lit, with the inviting scent of JiU's body wash lingering in the air. You can't wait to rip her clothes off and violate her.

You turn JiU around to face the lockers, bending her over and making her brace her hands against the cold metal. You flip up her skirt to expose her round, perfect ass, clad in a thin white thong that's already damp. Licking your lips, you hook your fingers into the waistband and yank the flimsy underwear down around her thighs.

JiU whimpers as you spread her ass cheeks apart, exposing her dry tight pink asshole. Her breath hitches as you spit crudely on her entrance before pressing the thick head of your cock against it. You push forward, trying to breach her, groaning at how ridiculously tight she is without lube.

"Oh fuck, JiU, this tiny ass of yours is gripping me so hard... You're gonna have to relax for me 'cause I'm about to wreck this hole," you growl, giving your hips a sharp thrust to force your cock deeper into her unprepared asshole.

JiU lets out a pained cry, her nails scraping against the lockers as you stretch her open and cram more of your girthy shaft inside her uncomfortably. Tears sting her eyes and she sobs brokenly, feeling like she's being torn in half. You've barely gotten 3 inches in and she's already clenching and fluttering around you, trying desperately to force your huge cock out of her.

"Please, it hurts! Pull out, I can't take it any deeper!" JiU begs between her mewls of pain, squirming her hips and trying to dislodge you from her abused hole.

But you just laugh, reaching around to maul at her tits as you continue to force your way deeper into her tight heat. "Aw, don't be like that JiU... I'm being a nice guy and giving this pretty ass the anal wrecking it deserves. Take my cock like an obedient anal slut."

With those words, you slam your hips forward, burying yourself halfway in JiU's clenching hole with a wet squelch. She wails in agony, her pussy lips fluttering as copious amounts of blood and lube dribble down her thighs. Her hands scrabble weakly at the lockers, trying to brace herself against your harsh thrusts, but she's too small and weak to stop you from violating her most tightest hole.

You grope and squeeze at JiU's tits brutally as you rail her asshole, pinching and tugging on her nipples until she's a blubbering, drooling mess. Drool runs down her chin as she sobs, the pain overwhelming her tired mind. Your cock plunges into her over and over, forcing her tight ring of muscle to stretch obscenely around your girth.

"Fuuuck, JiU, your shitter is so goddamn tight... I'm gonna ruin this for anyone else," you grunt, giving her ass a spank that echoes through the locker room. JiU shrieks and clenches down around you, making her tight hole clamp down like a vice on your pistoning shaft.

You piston your hips harder, grunting and panting with the effort of tearing through her spasming walls. JiU is sobbing so hard she's practically hiccuping, utterly overwhelmed by the anal violation. Her body shudders with each cruel thrust, practically choking on her own drool as she gurgles and cries.

You pound into JiU's wrecked hole for what feels like hours, grunting and growling like a feral beast as you use her. Finally, with a loud groan, you bury yourself as deep as you can in her abused ass and unload, pumping thick ropes of cum deep into her bowels. JiU wails shakily as she's filled with your hot seed, her guts churning with the foreign substance.

As you pull out of her with a wet plop, JiU collapses to her knees, clutching at her bleeding, gaping asshole. Puss and cum ooze out of her, making a mess on the floor. You stroke your cock back into semi-hardness before grabbing a fistful of JiU's hair and yanking her head back.

"Clean up the mess you made. Suck my cock until it's spotless," you sneer down at her, rubbing the head of your dirty, cum-covered cock against her tear-streaked face.

JiU whimpers but obediently opens her mouth, extending her little tongue to lap submissively at your length. You thrust between her lips, groaning as she slurps and gags around you. Her throat constricts, massaging the cock with her muscles as you force her to deepthroat it.

You fuck JiU's face with cruel abandon, holding her head in place as she chokes and sputters, trying desperately to breathe through her nose. Spit froths out around your pistoning length as you use her mouth, reduced to a mere cocksleeve. JiU's eyes roll back in her head as she's forced to gag on your shaft over and over, drool pouring down her chin.

"Fuck yeah, take it deeper. Milk my cock with that throat," you groan, ramming into her convulsing esophagus until her nose is pressed against your pubic bone. JiU's eyes nearly cross, the squelches of you violating her throat filling the locker room. You hold her in place until her struggles grow weak, fighting her body's instinctive need to breathe.

Just when it seems like you might actually suffocate her, you pull out of her mouth, letting JiU collapse forward with a massive gasp. She coughs and wheezes, strings of drool connecting her puffy lips to your cockhead. "Good girl... now turn around and present your ruined asshole to me like the anal whore you are," you order, giving her ass a harsh smack.

JiU whimpers but scrambles to turn over, lifting her hips and reaching back to spread her bright red, puffy asshole for you. It gapes obscenely, a few drops of blood and cum oozing out. You groan at the sight, delivery a few more light spanks to her bruised cheeks before tucking yourself back into your pants.

"Alright slut, I think that's enough anal for tonight. You can go clean yourself up now," you say dismissively, like JiU is nothing more than a dirty rag for you to use and discard when you're done.

JiU sniffles and slowly pulls her skirt back down over her sore ass. She stumbles to her feet on shaky legs, wincing as her ravaged asshole twinges with pain. With a final whimper, she limps out of the locker room, leaving you to tuck your softening cock into your pants with a self-satisfied smirk.

You know JiU is so fucked out that she'll be agreeing to anything you suggest from now on. And you plan on taking FULL advantage of that.

[hazashiovo]

korra (legend of korra) x reader angst to fluff 🙏🏻

I gotchuuu 😉👍

Korra x reader

+slight Kuvira x reader cause I have a huge brain rot for her🥲

Angst to fluff,mentions of trauma,long fic because it has plot in it.

Korra has been...distant.

Ever since Zaheer and the red lotus poisoned her and forced her to fight in the avatar state she's been different,to you and to her family.

She doesn't eat,when she sleeps she has nightmares, she doesn't talk to you...and it's worrying you so much,your heart aches each time she sends you away with her deafening silence.

You try talking to her about Asami's accomplishment or Mako's new job,even how Bolin made a name for himself.

But each time she'd have that empty look in her eyes,as she sits in that wheelchair she despises so much.

Sometimes you wish you could read her mind,chase away the memories that are tormenting her.

"Please Korra,I'm begging you,try...for me,just...I know you can do it." You sit on your knees,hands on her knees. Eyes looking at her pleading.

"I'm not who I used to be, (Name). Stop trying to save me." She turns her head away, avoiding your pleading eyes.

"That's not true,and you know it!" You cup her cheek, bringing her face closer to yours,yet your eyes hardly connect with each other.

She grabbed your wrist, pulling it away from her face."I don't need you and your pity, so find someone else to nag and leave me alone already!" Korra snaps,anger running trough her body.

Your eyes whiden in shock and you feel like she squeezed your heart with her harsh words.

"Do you even love me?" You bite your lip, waiting for an answer you know you won't get.

You avert your eyes from her face. Disappointed with her lack of will to be with you.

"That's what I taught." You get up and turn around ready to leave. Ready for a new start away from here,from Korra.

"(Name) i-" she wants to get up,run after you ,hug you and tell you she loves you more than herself. But she can't even gather her words properly.

You stop for a second , wishing to hear those words,only fooling yourself further.

.

.

With time Korra started getting more ambitious. She wanted to return to the person everyone knew her as. The avatar.

Her wish to prove to you that she can do better was growing by the day. Even so,the last time you spoke to here was the day you left, a day she still regrets even now.

Sometimes she would just feel like giving up,but you reminded her who she was doing this for,giving her the will to fight.

It's been a year since you've left the south pole. Being there with the shell of your lover was too much for you to handle.

Since you returned to Republic city you've been reunited with Bolin, helping Kuvira restore order to the earth kingdom.

It really took your mind off Korra. Now that you joined Kuvira, you got stronger. Unlike someone,you didn't let your trauma and past tragedies hunt you anymore.

"Well done (Name), you're getting stronger by the day." The dark haired woman smiles, hand laying on your shoulder proudly.

You wipe some sweat of your forehead, smiling back at her. "That's the goal I'm reaching for." She nods, looking at your form.

"I remember the first time Bolin introduced you to me and my cause." She wraps some bandages on her wrist, preparing to spar with you, "You were so lost." You watch her moves carefully, getting in a fighting stance.

"Im not the person I used to be." You speak,words giving you a sense of deja Vu.

Kuvira lounges , throwing some big stones at you. You grin, dodging them.

Once you find your opening,you make some ice disks and throw them at her.

Kuvira bends herself an earth wall,then throws it at you.

You make yourself a wave of water,going around Kuvira's wall, your water wave is circling the older woman. Once water is all around her ,you let it fall,and freeze, traping her in ice.

You move towards Kuvira's frozen body. "You cold in there?" A smug smile adorns your face as you slightly bend down to meet with her face. Your hands lazily lay on your knees.

She smirks,your metal collar suddenly pulled towards her. "Don't get to cocky now. It's just the first time you finally got to beat me. Let's try it with metal bending next time hm?"

You roll your eyes, releasing Kuvira from the Ice cage that kept her down. "I'm confident in myself,but not that confident yet." arms crossed as she rubbed some sore spots on her cold hands.

"Can't you have some faith in yourself?Keep going like this and you won't be far from becoming my second in charge." She smiles.

You smile proudly, happy you can finally accomplish something more for yourself.

.

.

Another year passed,with you growing stronger and smarter every day,but the taught of your former lover never ceased to fade. Even now ,her return growing closer by the day. You wonder how she's doing, from what Tenzin has told you,she's having a great recovery.so far. Finally able to walk again.

You worked hard to become Kuvira's right hand,and you're now closer to your goal than ever.

So many cities you helped bring back order and balance , so many lives you saved while being part of this cause.

Unfortunately, Kuvira soon has to step down from her spot,the council finding a new king for the earth kingdom while your boss brought peace wherever she went.

.

"Oh and Flying monkeys!" You blink, looking at Bolin. "Isn't that what Avatar Aang had ?" You raise a brow,not remembering how this conversation even started. "That is so incorrect." Bolin crosses his arms. Looking ready to give you a lecture. "Avatar Aang had a flying Lemur AND a bison as his animal companions. Not a flying monkey, (name)." You roll your eyes. "Whatever you say rock brain." You smirk noticing his anoyed expression. "Hey! How many times have I told you to stop calling me that?" He pokes you in the waist,making you joilt up. "Stop that!" You glare at him,poking him back.

The two of you go on like this for a little while, attracting a few stares to yourself.

Until someone clears their troath.

"Am I interrupting something?" Lin stands towering over you and Bolin, giving you a bored look. "Chief Beifong!" Bolin is quick to bow down, dragging you with him.

"You little-" you stop yourself, locking eyes with the police chief, now giving her an awkward smile.

"If the two of you are done acting like monkeys,could you follow me?" You and Bolin now stand straight, noticing Lin's mood is lower than usual.

"I can't stay for chit chatting,maybe (Name) could solve this? I remembered I was supposed to meet with mako,like 30 minutes ago." The brunette boy gives you a sorry smile as you glare at him. "How convenient." Your comment followed by narrowed eyes,sent chills down his spine. Bolin took a quick look at chief Beifong,then left.

"Good. I wanted to speak to you anyways." You raise a brow curiously at the older woman's words. "You did?I mean ,you do?" She nods,not saying another word until you get to a remote Cafe.

The two of you sit down in a corner, quite remote from the rest of the people in the public space.

"So ,what did you want to speak to me about Chief?" You start, looking at the window.

"It's about Kuvira." Your face turns to Lin as she got your interest.

"What about Kuvira?" You tilt your head.

"I'm worried she won't step down and allow the prince to rule the earth kingdom." Lin stops,as a waitress brought the two of you two cups of tea,"Kuvira seems to take great pride in what she accomplished,but I don't think she's willing to stop there. People of earth empire call her The Great Uniter." The chief looks at her mug, waiting for you to respond.

You fiddle with your fingers, searching for the right words to describe Kuvira's wishes. "She has done so much for the earth kingdom,and she's a strong woman,in combat and in mind,the name fits her ,if km honest."

You stop to drink a little from your (chosen) tea, "And I know it's not my place to talk but...ever since Korra is gone,the people see Kuvira as their savior."

Lin sighs, "Kuvira is forcing people to do labor work for her , threatening them with their lives." You whiden your eyes at the words spoken from her.

"I know how she can be..harsh,.but she wouldn't do such a thing." Your gaze moves to the window.

"She is manipulating you (Name), because she knows how strong you are. Should I also remind you how you used to date the avatar?." You close your eyes tightly, trying to push away the taughts of Korra. "Why do you think she chose to have you so close to her? If Korra ever becomes a problem for her,she'll have you as leverage." Lin's fist tightens, looking at your expression.

"It's not true. If you saw the way she acts...you wouldn't say that.Kuvira wouldn't just use me like that." She sighs at your way of defending Kuvira. How could you defend such a woman?

"Everything Kuvira does is for a reason,keep that in mind (Name)." Lin gets up and leaves some money on the table.

You remain there , trying to piece together your racing taughts.

.

And just like Lin said,once it was time for Kuvira to back down and allow the prince to rise,she made the announcement that from then on the earth kingdom would be under her rule.

The rule of The Great Uniter.

This got you contemplating ever joining her,it doesn't feel right with you.

Bolin chose to stick around,but you wanted to leave. Being in a situation like this was too much for you.

"So you planned to just abandon me?" The person you didn't want to see the most right now was behind you, leaning on your door frame.

"This isn't right,Kuvira." You stated, covering your arms as you turn to see her.

"This is exactly what's right for the earth kingdom. I can't let that spoiled Prince destroy everything we accomplished." She pushed herself of the door way, moving closer to you.

"It doesn't feel right,I can't fight for something that doesn't feel right with me." Kuvira sighs. She places a hand on your shoulder. "I know what I'm doing,but I can't do it without you by my side. We accomplished so many great things together." She starts slowly guiding you towards a window. "Just look at how much good we did" her hands point at the window. "The land is safe again, raiders are not attacking innocent people or stealing. What more could you ask?" you look at one of the cities she got back and supplied,it looks at peace. What if she was right?

You bite your lip, "What happens with the people after we leave?" Her eyes meet yours,

"We give them a job, something to do to make the earth kingdom a better place,even the raiders."

Even if your gut tells you not to trust her,your mind reminds you of the great things she did so far. Kuvira never left you down.

"Are you telling the truth to me?"

She smiles, holding eye contact with you.

"Why would I lie?"

.

.

This is getting out of hand, Kuvira wants to attack Zaofu, Suyin's home simply for not obeying her terms.

"Kuvira this is madness,you can't do this!" You enter the command center ,she dismisses the people that were in the room, leaving you two alone.

"No. It's necessary for me to do this. Once Zaofu finally surrenders to me I get total control of the earth empire."

You scoff at her words.

"Do you even hear yourself?" Pacing around the room,you can't help but glance at her troops just outside.

"I thought you were with me on this, remember everything we fight for." Her armor slightly clangs as she walks towards you.

"I fight to make this world a better place,you fight to take control and rule and empire, excuse me but there's a difference." You move away from her,scoffing at the taught of helping her bring Zaofu down.

Kuvira glares at the back of your head.

"I'm doing this because no one else was willing to. And I have to make some tough choices that many wouldn't,why can't you see?" The tall woman runs a hand trough her hair, trying to calm herself down.

Now it all makes sense,Lin was right and you were stupid for doubting her.

"I'm leaving and you can't stop me. Not this time." She sighs, once you start moving towards the door, two of her metal bands parts push you to the wall,hands stuck above your head.

"Let me go."you glare at her trying to get away from her metal.

"I expected better from you." She shakes her head disappointed. You look around the room, trying to find a water source, yet nothing in sight.or reach

"Lock her up tight. Make sure she gets no visitors." Kuvira calls for two of her guards.as they take you away,you see the shrinking image of Kuvira's disappointed face.

.

.

.

You watch as Korra fights with Kuvira for your life,and Suyin's.

She got so much better,but there's still something wrong with her you just know it.

Kuvira seems to have the upper hand,until Korra knocks her down. She was so close,but she hesitates suddenly, giving Kuvira the opportunity to trap Korra.

"No!" You scream,Kuvira turns her head to look at you,a smile adorning her face. Looking around desperately,you see a little source of water, hopefully close enough to you.

You move your hands that are tied behind your back to use the water,creating a razor form to slice trough Kuvira's metal.

You take off running, attacking Kuvira with spikes of ice.

The metal bender pushes herself away from Korra , creating a shield for herself.

Kuvira Is pissed,how could you escape? Are her soldiers good for nothing at all? More importantly,what are you going to do?

You create a big ice shield that goes all around to fit you and Korra trough,finally getting to touch her after so long.

"Korra please get up!" You cradle her head in your arms as her upper body lays on your thighs (Kuvira is jelly~~) she opens her eyes,bright blue eyes you would lose yourself in.

"I came back for you." She smiles touching your face lightly,fearing you might be another one of her illusions. Your eyes whiden, smiling at her words

"I shouldn't have left you in the first place." A tear falls on her face (imagine Kuvira trying to break the ice while those two have their moment ☠️)

"I didn't mean anything I said that day,I'm so sorry,I didn't mean to send you away." Korra gets up,now on her knees ,face to face with you. Her hands cup your face, staring at you lovingly." I Love you." Hearing those words,you jump on Korra,giving her a big hug.

You sniff, smiling at her. "We should really focus on getting out of this situation now." Your voice cracks as you joke.

Korra stands up,ready to fight once more, her will stronger than ever.

.

.

.

I originally wanted to write something else,but this plot came so I just rolled with it. ┐⁠(⁠ ⁠˘⁠_⁠˘⁠)⁠┌

[gracieheartspedro]

Cool About It

joel miller x fem! reader

Description: you've only patrolled with him a couple times, which made you kind of hate him. but after a night of subtle flirting at the tipsy bison, tons of alcohol, shooting pool, and making fun of some guy's tattoos, you realize you're really into joel. after you get him, you realize maybe you shouldn't want him.

Part 1/3

PART TWO IS HERE

Word count: 5.3k

Warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, post!outbreak joel, drinking, playing pool(?), possible age gap (not specified really), very smutty, unprotected p in v, fingering, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, joel is a menace a bit, ellie is also a little shit haha

hi lovers, how's it going? this is going to be a three-parter, inspired by Boygenius' song "Cool About It". it's gonna be smutty in all three parts so be ready (: please reach out if you have any requests or just wanna talk! I'm friendly I promise lmao

Met you at the dive bar to go shoot some pool

And make fun of the cowboys with the neck tattoos

Ask you easy questions about work and school

I'm trying to be cool about it

Feelin' like an absolute fool about it

Wishin' you were kind enough to be cruel about it

Tellin' myself I can always do without it

Knowin' that it probably isn't true

You keep your head held high while you walk into the Tipsy Bison, the only bar in Jackson. You were not familiar with the walls of the establishment, but the plan was to get out of your comfort zone. You were good at being a social outcast, and Maria, the only friend you had here, told you to try to break out of your shell. 

So here you are, at a bar. 

Immediately you recognize a couple of familiar faces, including the Millers. 

Tommy and Joel were the patrol leaders for Jackson. You always felt comfortable around Tommy. He was more laid back and funny. On the couple of patrols you did with him, he always made sure the time went by quicker. While serious in times that are pressing, he brought light to darker situations. Maria, his wife, was the first person to introduce you to life in Jackson. She got you set up in a house by yourself and had you start patrolling when she realized you were an excellent shot. She was kind, always making sure you were looking out for yourself and invited you to family dinners sometimes.

Joel was different. 

Very quiet and deadly serious when he was speaking. He made you feel insecure about your abilities, always double and triple checking things behind you. You couldn’t bring your own horse out of the stable without him checking your pack and ensuring you packed extra bullets. 

“You never know what’s out there, girl,” He would tell you. 

You find an empty seat at the bar. Only one seat away from Joel. 

The bartender approaches you, asking what you’d like. You gesture towards Maria.

“Whatever she’s havin’.” 

Maria finally takes notice from beside Tommy and waves at you with a huge smile plastered on her face. It warmed your cold little heart. 

“Hey pretty lady,” She hops out of her chair to give you a half hug, “Glad you are doing this.”

Tommy was looking at you from beside Joel, a smirk playing on his face.

Joel stared forward with no emotion, not even daring to glance your direction.

“How’s it goin’?” Tommy asks, scooting his chair back to begin his way over to you, taking a spot next to Maria. 

You nod, “It’s going.”

“You were on that patrol with the raiders a couple days ago, right?”

He was referring to two days ago when a couple of shitty raiders took down your partner’s horse and almost shot you through the back. You guys got the upper hand, of course. You never went without packing two guns, so you had quickly slid off your horse to find cover behind a downed tree and used a hunting rifle to take two headshots. Your partner wasn’t so lucky. He was an older man and he fell hard when his horse went down. You had to race back to Jackson getting him into the infirmary as quickly as you could. Turns out he broke his arm and a couple of ribs. He would be off patrols for awhile. 

“Sure was,” You reply, “Luckily Eugene got out with just a broken arm. I was happy to be there for him.”

Before Tommy could reply to you, Joel quips up. 

“He told me you got both of the guys between the eyes,” He mumbles, “That true?”

You shake my head positively. You didn’t even want to speak to him in fear that you’d say the wrong thing. He would overanalyze you at the drop of a hat. 

“That’s impressive,” Tommy remarks, “Glad you got out of it unscathed.”

“My girl here is a badass,” Maria pats your shoulder, “Glad you are doing better. I know you were a rattled a bit.”

You take a sip of my drink, noting the intense burn, “Yeah, me too.”

You guys make more small talk, mainly about some recent patrols and what you found. You try to act interested, but the truth was you wanted to go home and read. Your mind was better occupied with made up stories than the stories that were playing out before you in real life. 

“I think we should get home to Ian,” Maria says to Tommy, referring to their newer son. He was about five months now, very cute, and chunky. He resembled your nephew before the world stole him and his mother from you. So you always refused to hold Ian, knowing it would send you into a spiral as soon as his little fingers found yours. Maria understood, telling you she knew exactly how you felt. She’s felt loss like that before, too.

“Ellie probably wants to be relieved of her cousin duties,” Joel grumbles from beside Tommy, “Poor girl doesn’t know what she agreed to.”

“Ian’s sleepin’,” Maria says putting on her coat, “She is probably bored.”

“Tell her to head home when you see her,” Joel comments. 

You have met Joel’s girl more than once. She was kind of stand-offish, intially. Now that you’ve met her a couple times, she was more chatty and goofy. She was a spitfire towards Tommy, which always made you laugh. 

From what you understood, Joel had a daughter before the outbreak. Tommy and Maria keep her name on a little memorial above their fireplace, with Maria’s son’s name scribbled beside hers. You didn’t know the backstory behind Ellie, but you realized the last time you were around all of them, she doesn’t call him dad. Just Joel or old man. Maybe she adopted?

Maria pulls you out of your thoughts, nudging you a bit. 

“Stay awhile, have another drink.”

You nod giving her a gentle smile, “I will. Get home safe.”

“See you around, girl,” Tommy says, giving you a half hug. You turn back to face the bar, noticing Joel’s still sipping on his whiskey. 

You two sit in awkward silence when they leave, not saying much to one another. You drink your second round quickly, calling over the bartender for another one. Joel says he wants the same. Once you get your pours, he finally decides to talk again.

“You still with that one guy?”

You look at him curiously, not sure who he’s talking about. You rack your brain trying to figure out who he’s referring to and then it hits you. 

“Kendrick? Oh no, he’s not anything,” You respond. 

Kendrick was one of your patrol partners. You two hooked up once and realized it was too weird. He was younger than you, which didn’t mean much. But that was a huge factor in his performance. He wasn’t sure what to do. He didn’t know what foreplay was, which meant the sex was dry and not pleasurable in the slightest. 

“It seemed like something the other day,” Joel notes, “Wouldn’t stop staring at you at the town meeting.”

You could not help but notice the slight venom in his tone. 

“Interesting you’re taking notice to other guys who look at me. You jealous, Miller?”

He turns to you finally, his eyes a bit glassy. The whiskey was making him bold, you could tell. 

“Just observant,” He remarks, “He doesn’t seem like your type.”

“Oh, now you know my type?”

He shakes his head at your response, “I imagine you like them a bit older than him.”

Maybe you were overanalyzing the situation, but it seemed to you that Joel Miller was flirting with you. You felt like he was suggesting you were into him. 

Truth be told, you did like them older. You liked a rugged man who was a bit of a mystery. You also liked assholes. All things Joel Miller was. So maybe you were into him.

You lean in to speak to him quietly, “Are you trying to suggest something?”

“Not at all,” He murmurs, “Just answering your question. Am I wrong?”

You purse your lips, “Not wrong.”

Another awkward silence. 

“Wanna play some pool?”

You furrow your eyebrows, not knowing how to respond. You think his goal was to change the subject and avoid more silence. So you just nod, hopping off your barstool. The two of you make your way through some occupied tables to the one empty pool tables. You grab a stick while Joel starts to corral all the balls and set them in place.

You’ve played pool before, but you were never good. Your ex found a pool table once while you two were traveling and he spent hours teaching you how to play. It led to a screaming match. You decided after that, it just wasn’t for you. 

Joel was patient, watching you line up the white ball and hit it with hardly any force, not breaking up any of the balls. You just shake your head in disappointment. 

“You ever play?”

“Yeah, I just suck.”

“Fair enough,” He replies, taking his shot. You guys go back and forth. You getting no balls in the pockets, him getting all the balls in the pockets. 

You ask him about patrols he’s been on recently, trying to make light conversation. You really just wanted to see if your conversation would lead back to where it started. 

It didn’t. 

Instead you two got more rounds of drinks and played more pool. He became more chatty, standing behind you every time you tried to take a shot, giving you advice here and there. Once you stood straight up after finally getting a ball in a pocket, he leaned in a bit. 

“You see that guy over there?”

He gestured towards an older gentleman at one of the far tables. He seemed like the type to have a Confederate flag hanging outside his house. He also seemed like the type to call a woman a slur if they turned down his advances. Maybe you are just a bitch and assuming all of this. Or your assumptions about a man were right, per usual. 

You turn to Joel, glancing up at him. He was close, his face centimeters away. 

“Mhm?”

“He’s got all those tattoos,” He looks towards the man again, “The one on his neck is a skull with one of those Native headdresses. Looks fuckin’ dumb.”

The way he says it sends you into a fit of giggles. He starts to laugh, too. It was the first time you saw him genuinely smile and damn did it look beautiful on him. His eyes crinkled a bit, his shoulders falling in a very relaxed way. 

You finish up your round of pool and decide it’s time for the both of you to retire back to your houses. Conveniently, your house was right off Rancher Street just like his. You grab your coat off the one barstool, watching Joel put on his. 

“We are going the same way, do you mind walkin’ with me?”

“No problem.”

-

You two walked side by side, your steps almost in sync. It was much darker now, the sun set hours ago. You felt like you went through a time jump. You didn’t feel like you spent tons of time at the Tipsy Bison. 

Joel’s house is before yours on the street, so when you arrive in front of his steps, he stops completely.

“Here’s me,” Joel mutters, “You comin’ in?”

“Should I?” You question, stupidly.

“Well I invited you, so yeah,” He suggests, “You should.”

He walks in front of you, reaching for his front door. His house was comfy and warm. Looking around, you could tell he kept it well maintained. It was clean, only a couple dust bunnies lined the hallway baseboards. He had pictures on the walls and blankets littering the couch.

“I ain’t done this in awhile,” He says, sliding his boots off at the front door. You follow suit, not really taking in the words he said. He stares at you carefully, waiting for a response.

“I’m sorry, what exactly?”

He approaches you slowly, his demeanor shifting. He looks down at you, his stature a lot bigger than most of the men you’ve been with, you note. He was broad and brilliantly tanned. His dark chocolate hair was speckled with grays. He had some fine lines on his face, especially where he furrowed his eyebrows 24/7. 

“Brought a girl home.”

His brown eyes grow ever darker, his arm enveloping you for a moment. You don’t pull away, letting him bring your body closer to his. You feel butterflies in the pit of your stomach, something you’ve not felt with a man in years.

“Feelin’ a bit rusty?” You suggest, your hands resting on his chest.

“Don’t know about that,” He mutters, “Do know I’ve been thinkin’ about this for a while.”

His comment takes you back, completely sobering you up. The warmth from the alcohol subsides and you blink at him for a minute.

“What do you mean, a while?”

His face centimeters away from yours, again. You instinctively wrap your arms around his neck, having to get on your tiptoes to do so. 

“Meanin’ every time ’m around you, I think of how amazing your ass looks in those jeans.”

Your heart skips a beat. 

“You’re only now telling me this, Joel?” You ask, playing up that you were annoyed. You were kind of, because what the fuck, you could’ve had him sooner?

“Didn’t think a pretty young thing like you would want me,” He says, “Now I know better.”

He leans down, his lips hardly touching yours. You assume he’s waiting for your move, so you give in first, capturing his lips against yours. It was gentle at first, until he takes notice to how you’re pulling him down further.

He deepens the kiss, pressing your back against one of the walls nearby. His lips were soft, his mustache tickling you a bit. He adds tongue seamlessly, feverishly grabbing you everywhere. Your hips, lower back, your butt. 

I can’t believe I’m making out with Joel right now. 

Your brain stops for a moment when you realize one thing you never thought about before. Where’s Ellie?

It brings you out of the kiss. You pull away slowly, trying not to alarm him too much.

“Is Ellie home?” You mutter, your eyes fluttering open to meet his. 

He looks to the side, glancing out the back window. 

“Probably, but she stays in the garage out back. She has uhm,” He gestures towards the backyard, “Has a whole set up in there. She never comes in here, don’t worry.”

It reassures you enough to bring him back into the kiss. His hands return to your waist, pulling you closer. You couldn’t help but grip his arms, feeling his muscles through his long sleeve. 

“Bring me to bed, Miller,” You moan between kisses, “Need you now.”

He doesn’t say anything before he leans down, hiking your legs up around his waist. He carries you like you’re a light little feather. You use this time to attach your lips to his neck, giving him soft kisses up to his earlobe. 

Joel may be a bit older than you, but he carried you up the stairs like no other 50-something-guy could. He didn’t even fumble, his steps heavy and calculated. Once you two get to the landing, he readjusts you, his hands now holding you up by your ass. 

“Let’s get you out of these clothes,” He murmurs in your ear, walking you into his bedroom. It smells like fresh air, which throws you off a bit. You notice the one window in the corner is cracked slightly, letting in the springtime air. 

He tosses you on his made up bed, making you a bounce a bit. He’s standing over you looking a bit dishelved, his eyes dark with desire. 

He unbuttons his shirt, shaking it off his shoulders. You watch the piece of fabric fall away from him. His upper body is toned, some areas of his stomach and shoulders are littered with scars. The moonlight highlights them, but honestly, they made him hotter. He looked more dangerous, more unattainable for a girl like you. 

“You just gonna gawk?” He teases, leaning down to let his lips meet yours again. In between kisses, he tugs down your pants, leaving you just in your underwear and top. He throws your pants across the room, his hands trailing up your bare thighs. 

“Let me get my top off,” You say pulling away from his eager lips. He sits back on his knees, watching you slowly peel off your top and undershirt. The undershirt has a built in bra that hardly keeps your boobs supported, but it was easier than wearing the uncomfortable bras you usually wore. You throw both shirts across the room before you lean back on your elbows again. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” He says, his hands reaching out to touch you. He finds your collarbones first, before letting one hand trace the swell of your breasts. He was taking his time with you. 

“You just gonna gawk?”

He smiles. 

“I am gonna ruin you, girl,” He spits. You stare at him with your best doe eyes, trying to see what kind of rise you could get out of him. 

He grabs one of your boobs, before pushing you all the way on your back. His lips trace all over your body before ghosting right above where your underwear sit on your lower tummy. 

“Joel-” You begin, until he starts tracing your slit with his fingers, right over your panties. 

“Hm?” He chuckles, his soft touches making you writhe under him, “What, sweetheart?”

“Need you-” You choke out, “Please.”

He chuckles darkly, “Love to see you beg.”

You knew he was going to be dominant, but you didn’t expect him to be so candid. He seemed so quiet and steadfast in day to day life, so when you see him like this, you knew you were fucked. He was the type to talk you through the whole experience, something you’d never had with another man. Everyone you had slept with was so vanilla. No one was like the guys in the novels you read. Dominant, hungry for more, and vocal. 

“Let’s take these off,” He says wrapping his finger around the band of your underwear. You were so giddy now, you lift your ass a bit so he could get them off you. When you do that, your bare pussy gets so close him that you could feel his breath on your mound slightly. 

“You ever been eaten out before, girl?”

You shake your head, “Yes, but I didn’t really enjoy it.”

“Just let me know when you’re about to cum, baby,” Baby, “I know you will.”

You loved how cocky he was. It made the anticipation almost too overwhelming.

He leans down, his tongue flattening over your slit. You watch him close his eyes and instantly get into devouring you. He flicks his tongue up and down, eventually pressing his lips around your mound. You lose all ability to speak, so when he pulls away, you groan in displeasure. 

He says nothing, just put his middle finger and ring finger into his mouth, covering them in his saliva. He looks up at you, those fingers beginning to trace you up and down. 

“You-” Is all you can say before he’s sinking his fingers inside. He reattaches his lips to your clit, sucking as he fucks you with his digits. The wet squelching from the action sends your head into orbit. You cannot believe how good it feels because every other sexual encounter you had the guy would go in dry, maybe giving you kitten licks, and call it eating you out. But not Joel. Joel knew a woman’s anatomy. He knew exactly how to treat it. 

You just moan out his name, letting his actions take you to that familiar heat build up in your tummy. Usually you had to get there yourself. You throw your head back into his pillows, your eyes crushing shut as you take in the feeling. 

“Hey,” You hear Joel growl, ���Eyes on me, or I stop.”

Your eyes fly open, watching him return to sucking your clit. As you stare down, you notice him adding another finger into the mix. The pressure felt so good, your walls feeling everything he was giving you. 

“Can I please,” You are about to let go, but you remember you were supposed to tell him, “Cum?”

You can’t even form sentences. 

He pulls away.

“Since you asked nicely,” His lips are wet with your slick, “Cum.”

The magic word that sends you into pure bliss. Your body quakes while he still fucks you with his fingers. You can only chant his name, begging him not to stop. 

He removes his fingers, smiling at your post orgasm face. You blush, suddenly becoming extremely self aware. You had no reason to be timid or shy now, being splayed out like you are in front of Joel. 

He stands tall over you, making you feel so small in his big bed.

“That was so good baby, but I ain’t done with you,” He pulls you by your legs to the edge of the bed, “Need that perfect pussy wrapped around my cock.”

“Jesus fuck,” You moan, still sensitive from what he just did to you. 

He groans, “Name is Joel. No Jesus here.”

He just had to give into the dad jokes. You slap your forehead in disappointment, making him grin a bit. 

“Got you all nice and stretched, now.”

You realize he hasn’t even taken off his pants in that moment, because he pulls down his tented pants to reveal himself to you. He was bigger than you’ve ever had, which sent you gawking again. He pumps himself, watching your widened eyes. 

“You’re too easy to read, girl,” He mutters, “I’ll inch it in, let you get adjusted nicely.”

You lean forward a bit, back onto your elbows, “You’re gonna fucking split me in half.”

He runs his dick between your wet core, which sends shockwaves up your body. 

“Like I said,” He licks his lips, “I got you nice and stretched.”

Him repeating it made you smirk devilishly. He continued to run his cock up and down your wetness, getting ready to plunge into you. 

When he stops right in front of your hole, he stares into your eyes like he’s trying to read your mind. 

“Fuck me, Joel Miller.”

He sinks into you, inch by inch. You groan in pleasure. The stretch is nothing like his fingers, it’s even better. 

He’s taking his time, pulling back a bit before pushing back into you. It’s slow, gradual. After three pumps, he leans down to catch your lips. He continues to grind into you, the mixture so intoxicating. You moan into the kiss, your mouth opening up for his tongue to slip in. He tasted like you, which was something you never really tasted before. 

“Your pussy was made for me,” He moans, “Fuckin’ hell.”

He sits back, bringing the pace up a bit, his balls slapping into you now. The sounds were borderline pornographic. The panting, the wetness, the slapping. 

“You’re takin’ me so well,” He grunts, “I want to hear you.”

You cry out as he speeds up, “Please, d-don’t stop.”

And he doesn’t. He keeps the pace the same as he fondles your boobs. He pinches your perked up nipples, clenching his teeth. You can tell he’s getting close, but instead of chasing that high, he stops. 

He manhandles you, pulling you up like he did when he carried you up the stairs. He somehow keeps his dick inside you as he finds a seat on the bed. He’s holding you above him, completely switching positions. 

“Want you to ride me,” He says, “Need to see those beautiful tits bouncin’.”

You take up the challenge. You rest on your knees first. You circle your hips, dragging your clit across his lower tummy. You never knew you could feel so full before, especially in this position. 

He just stared at you in awe, playing with your tits as you grind down on him. 

You take one of his hands in your own, placing it right below your belly button. 

“I feel you right here, Joel,” You moan, “Fillin’ me up so good.”

You knew he wanted to cum right there because his dicks twitches inside you. 

“You are one dirty girl,” He growls, “You’re lucky I’m even letting you cum again, talkin’ like that.”

You plant your feet on the bed, finding all your strength to start bouncing on him. He steadies you, bringing his hips up to meet yours. This angle hits different, especially when Joel’s thumb finds your clit again. You couldn’t help yourself, chasing that same high you felt before when his face was between your thighs. 

You look down at him with hooded lids, “I’m gonna cum again.”

“Yes you are,” He smirks, “Cum all over me baby, I feel you.”

Your release hits you, making you fall to your knees again. Your hips girate, the spasming around Joel’s cock sending him into a moaning mess. He lets your settle for a moment before lifting you back up. His dicks slides out, which causes him to hiss and you to groan. Instead of laying you face up, he throws you face down into the pillows. 

“My turn,” He says, dipping his cock back into you. As soon as it happens, you realize you weren’t done. That same sensitivity was back, but this time you felt the burning pick back up even quicker. He’s settling into a brutal pace, grabbing both your ass cheeks and spreading them apart. You turn your head, trying to get a view of him. 

He was watching himself plunge into you, over and over again. It had to be the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. He’s dripping in sweat, his body glistening, clenching his teeth at the sight of your bodies meeting. 

“‘m bout to cum,” He moans, “Where do you want it?”

“Fuck it into me, Joel.”

The words slips out so quickly. The tipping point hit you both at the same time, the spasming hitting you all over again. You scream into the pillows, biting into them trying not to be too loud. He releases himself into you, stilling his movements. 

He doesn’t say anything when he pulls out, you both just breathe out loudly. You felt so empty without him. 

You had never cum so much in one night before. 

Joel Miller made you cum three times. 

Without any help. 

You hear his footsteps trail to his attached bathroom, hearing some water run from the faucet. You return to laying on your back, unsure if you could trust your legs to stand. Joel’s figure returns to the room, a damp rag in his hands. He smirks at you all the while nudging your legs apart. He slowly drags the rag around your sensitive area, making sure to get any cum that was leaking out of you. After he cleans you up, he wipes off his dick a bit. 

He tosses the rag into a basket of clothes nearby. 

“You want any water?”

You take note to how gentle and sweet he was being after being so aggressive towards you before. It was a side of Joel you really appreciated. He wasn’t talking down to you, he genuinely took your needs into account.

“I think I’ll be okay,” You respond, your eyes finally shutting, “Don’t think I’ll be able to walk home.”

“You can stay,” He grumbles, walking to the side of the bed, “We both have patrol in the morning anyway.”

Your eyes fly open, “Shit, I do! Wait-”

“Yeah I’m on with you. For the rest of the week.”

You could scream. This man just gave you the best dick of your life and now you had to patrol with him? You didn’t know how you’d be able to contain yourself.

“Fuck,” You place your hands over your face. You settle in the thought that you needed to sleep if you were going to be alive for morning patrol and you’d worry about your horny desires for Joel.

“C’mere,” He says, pulling you further up the bed. He positions you next to him in the bed, pulling some covers over you, leaving your boobs still out for his viewing pleasure. He wrapped one arm under you, letting it rest around your neck. 

His sheets were flannel and so warm. His scent overtook you as soon as you relaxed into the pillows. One of them is the one you bite into earlier. 

You felt at peace, wanting to stay in this spot for as long as possible. 

“I’ll wake you a bit earlier so you can go home and get dressed,” He grumbles, “And…”

You don’t even realize how tired you are. Before Joel can finish his sentence, you fall into a deep slumber, praying sunrise doesn’t come too quickly. 

-

You wake up when it’s still dark outside. Joel woke you up with a gentle nudge. You shoot up, scared for a moment before you take in your environment. You realize he’s fully dressed already. You groan, rubbing your eyes. 

When you start to slip out of bed, you start realizing you’re still completely naked. 

And in Joel’s bed. 

You plant your feet on the wooden floorboards, using the light from the one lamp in the corner of the room to find your clothes. You could not find your panties for the life of you, so you give up and just shove your legs into your jeans and throw your shirt over your head. Joel lets you wake up in silence, not asking you questions until you make it downstairs. 

“I’ll see you at the stables,” He mutters, pouring warm water into a mug that has a tea bag hanging off of it, “You go get changed.”

He was being short, you could tell. You feel a sinking feeling, like he probably regretted what happened last night. Before you could respond, the back door swings open and a smaller frame enters the dark house. 

“Ellie,” Joel hisses, “What are you doing up?”

Her tired eyes are on you. You freeze in your spot, not knowing how to react or what to say. Your head just races with shitshitshitshit.

“I knew I heard your voice last night!” She laughs, “Y’all have fun?”

Your cheeks heat up instantly, not able to think of a response. 

“Ellie!” His voice is stern and borderline scary, “Go back to your room, now.”

It was a demand. 

She just chuckles, grabbing the door handle and pulling it close. 

“See you around, Joel’s lady friend.”

You stand there completely dumbfounded and embarrassed. Joel sips on his hot tea, not really paying attention to your response to Ellie calling you his lady friend. 

“Go get dressed.”

It was another demand. It sent shockwaves through your body. Maybe your sinking feeling was correct. 

Joel only did what he did last night because of the alcohol. It didn’t change how he’d treat or talk to you in real life. You kind of wished he’d just be cruel about it. Like he would just read your mind and tell you how stupid you were to think this would change anything. 

You felt like a fool.  You don’t say anything as you walk to the door and put on your boots. As you walk out of the house, you promise yourself to take it one minute at a time. Don’t overthink everything. Just let it be a one night stand. Don’t make it about your feelings. Be cool about it.

[cityofmeliora]

sad, sad Terzo + 'If You Have Ghosts' 🌙

a few nights ago, i realized this anecdote about Nihil teaching Terzo and Secondo was the first time Terzo ever talked about the meaning of 'If You Have Ghosts' and his connection to this song, which absolutely killed me because i then also realized that every time he talked about this song after that, it's like... aw. he learned that from his dad. he really took his stupid dad's music lesson to heart :(

PAPA EMERITUS III: […] But this is something me and my brother were taught by our father. Believe me, there are worse fish in the sea. Yes– Papa’s papa. The grandpapa. You will meet him one day, I promise. And he told us, “As long as you have one thing, it’s okay, y'all. The whispering walls. The spirits around you. The darkness inside.” So he looked at us and said… You know what he said? “If you have ghosts…” Unholy / Unplugged - Baltimore, Maryland, USA (August 22, 2015)

and it's clear that this song is very meaningful to Terzo. like. of course the depressed recluse who spends so much time alone would connect to the song about embracing loneliness and finding comfort in solitude. and this song has an additional personal meaning to Terzo. for him, it is also a song that comforts him when he must accept disappointment and not having the things he wants in life.

PAPA EMERITUS III: We can't always get what we want. You know that, huh? But one thing that can keep you company in a lonely hour… are the ghosts inside. Let them be your friend rather than your enemy. It's that darkness that sometimes makes the person, eh? Lawrence, Kansas, USA (October 5, 2015)

PAPA EMERITUS III: There are so many things that I want in my life. I'm sure there are a few things that you think you are missing, too. I can't have everything. I can have some things– some people. But this is a song that you can find company in yourself. If you have the spirits to communicate with inside, that can keep you warm on a lonely night. It's hard. There are always moments when we are all alone. Don't you forget about that when you are alone. But then maybe this can keep you company. Denver, Colorado, USA (October 17, 2015)

PAPA EMERITUS III: You have a lot of things in your life, huh? We all crave so many things. If we list… in order to feel as if… we all get all these things and then everything will feel better. Ain't that right? I am exactly the same. But I do know one thing… is that if you have the spirits and the demons inside you that causes a little… wreckage. That can be to your favor. Believe me. An empty shell is nothing, so... Chicago, Illinois, USA (October 3, 2015)

PAPA EMERITUS III: This is a song about loneliness. Unfortunately, I think that some of us might know how that feels. Not everybody has a friend who you can share your day and your night together with. Sometimes, there are other things that can keep you company. Those lonely nights. Spirits. The voices in your soul. The whispers in the walls. And that can be good, too–sometimes. Nimes, France (February 10, 2016)

thinking about these quotes is driving me fucking crazy. UGH. Terzo is just a really sad person. it's so obvious from these quotes that Terzo's mental health has been in some very dark places. to me, these are the words of a man who has spent a lot of time alone with some very scary thoughts and survived. and in surviving, he accepted and embraced that darkness as a part of himself. as he says, it's not always a good thing. but he's made peace with it.

[bitterbutblue]

i'm right where you left me - castorice x reader

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

and if i could take it all back i swear that i would pull you from the tide

~ one of my all time favourite songs fr, im ngl imjust going through another episode but instead of processing it like a normal person i just write fanfiction instead ~

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

Who you first truly fall in love with will shape the way you show love to others. They shape the way you view love, especially after you lose it. There are those lucky enough to stay with their first true loves, and there are those who experience watching someone who knew how many freckles were on your face become a stranger you pass by on the streets without as much of a second glance. But you both still feel your heart stutter slightly, a small flutter that can be accompanied with a bittersweet twist, maybe one fuelled with anger, or maybe one of longing- even after all this time. You wonder what happened, why she went from your home to nothing but a shell of someone you once knew. She is still her, she is a new version of her. One you can't read like you used to. A book that you know the story of inside and out, but written in a language you can't understand. The day you lost the love of your life to fate dividing the path you've been walking on together was the day you learned what heartbreak really meant. It's not screaming and sobbing and crying- that is simply an accompaniment to heartbreak. The real heartbreak was standing alone on the streets when you see a blooming flower and you think to yourself that she would have loved this. You think to yourself you want to show her this. You realise to yourself she is not here anymore.

Heartbreak is that sense of emptiness that follows that realisation, where you are a void waiting to be filled. Hollowness rumbling through your chest, leaving you with only a desire to crumble to your knees, curling up into a ball and just staying there with the pieces of your heart left up for grabs.

"Hey, come on, let's go."

You had forgotten what you were staring at, only knowing that some part of you had been drawn to this item on display at a bookstore and it reminded you of her. Himeko's voice snapped you out of it, and you force yourself to look away.

"Okay."

It doesn't fade, even though it has been over a year since she ended things with you. You still hold onto what had happened, how things unfurled. You wished more than anything that there was some way for you to turn back time, for you to have maybe loved her a bit harder so that she could still be in your life. You want to not believe in fate in that moment, because it would mean that you were predestined to be driven apart and nothing you can do would've kept her in your life.

"Are you okay?" Himeko asks you softly, her eyes darting across your face anxiously. Your eyes have that same glazed over look that you've carried ever since that day, it shows when you see something that's the same colour as her lilac eyes or maybe a blooming clematis. You clench your fist, letting out a short sigh as you nod.

"Yeah."

You have your ups and downs, some days Himeko will find you flirting with a woman at a bar, the next she will find you moping in in the parlor car when you think everyone else is asleep. You stare off into space often during moping sessions, your brain going through a flurry of thoughts and regrets and 'what if's even if you face is completely stoic. She knows, because whenever you get into these types of states your eyes are completely hollow. The usual spark when you are out with March and Dan Heng is gone, the usual light that shows around Stelle is gone. When you're alone, your eyes lose the light it once had and you become a shell. It hurts to watch from afar, knowing there was nothing she could do except simply watch you hurt. She's offered out a hand multiple times, but every time you turned her down. You say you'll get through it, and maybe the next day you do a bit better, but you're always hurting.

"It does get better, you know?"

She remembers the day Castorice broke up with you, how you had turned up to her doorstep with tears in your eyes but you never cried. You sat on her floor, staring at a spot on the ground and she sits next to you. You say nothing, only letting out shaky sighs once in a while as you look down to wipe at a tear that threatens to fall. She's afraid to reach out to touch you, worried that you will crumble and break completely. So she sits with you. Through all of it.

"I know."

Now you two are sat on the floor again, except this time it's been over a year and a half.

"I feel stupid for still caring." You whisper out "I fucked it up, so why am I still..."

"You loved her." Himeko frowns "It's understandable. You don't ever move on from your first love that fast."

You swallow painfully, trying to force down the lump in your throat.

"You don't let yourself grieve because you think you don't deserve it." Himeko says softly, and you tense up but she keeps going "But you have to. You made a mistake, you hurt her. You think you don't deserve to grieve but-"

"No." Your voice is strained, you feel the same burn in the back of your throat, the same feeling right before you break into tears and you just need that feeling to go away because you cant't cry "I don't deserve to."

You look down, wiping away at a tear.

"I just hope she knows I'm really sorry."

Himeko knows that whatever she says next will have no effect on what you think or say. She can give you all the advice there is on this earth, but you still refuse to do anything to make a change. So you're stuck there, even after all this time. Stuck in the same place she left you, rusting, cobwebs growing. A statue frozen in time, a permanent reminder of heartbreak.

Another year will pass, and you find that the pain will begin to dull down from a sharp sear into more of a dull ache that beats with your heart. It becomes a part of you. You don't find yourself drawn to anyone like you were drawn to her, you find yourself unable to love anyone because you compare everybody to her.

"Will I ever love again?" You mumble, pushing the now-empty glass away from you as you lean against the bar table. Himeko sighs, taking a sip from her espresso martini that you had so kindly bought for her.

"Yes."

"But it's been over two years-"

"Y/n." She looks at you with a more firm expression, reaching out to put a hand on yours "There is no timeline for healing, you don't need to rush anything. Take it at your own pace, but just know there is more to life than a heartbreak and there is more to love than romance."

You drop your head on the table, letting out a quiet groan.

"I don't wanna date ever again."

She laughs.

"For now, maybe you shouldn't."

A few months later, you find yourself walking through the streets of Amphoreous with Stelle. You don't like being back, with every corner of every street reminding you of her. How a place can scream her name, you will never understand. How she has left her mark on every cornerstone and every brick in every wall, you will never understand. But you are going to move on, you tell yourself. It is all in the past, it-

The sight of lilac hair has your heart stopping in your chest, an iciness rushing through you that you haven't felt since the last time you ran into her on the streets two weeks after she broke up with you. Her eyes meet yours, and you notice the way her small smile drops and that breaks you in ways you didn't even realise could be broken. Already shattered pieces now disintegrating into dust, fading into the memories you had with her.

You want her to walk towards you, maybe hold eye contact for a bit longer, shoot you a look or a smile or a frown or anything. Initiate something. Instead, she looks away first, and you turn around because you don't want Stelle to see the tears that are falling. You put a hand up to your face, trying to stop yourself, trying to stop the waterfall but it doesn't happen. Broken sobs fall from your lips as you push past the crowd, Stelle hot on your tail and calling your name but you don't hear her. You just run, you run wherever your legs can take you. Maybe it's the edge of the earth, maybe you can finally fall off and disappear into the depths of nothing. Instead you find yourself instinctively running back to the express. You find yourself collapsing onto the floor of your room, and for the first time since it all ended, you scream with no voice.

[farfromstrange]

Heya Lizzi! Happy early bday to u 🥺❤ I think it's amazing that you give away presents when you should be the one getting them!! But I do hope this can be fun for u, too: So, for my bouquet, I would love some peonies and daisies with the prompt "This is the best uniform a good lawyer could ask for" and HEAR ME OOUT: gn!reader is an artist that has been feeling down for a few months - mental health stuff, you can do whatever here - and stopped drawing, painting, doing pretty much anything for a while. so to get back in track they try out a new form of art - sewing, embroidery, and pretty much anything fashion related. What if they start by... Maybe embroidering small flowers and hearts inside the sleeves of Matt's suits or maybe a little sun in a hidden corner of his tie? Until they turn into more elaborate designs such as flowers with different sizes and shapes (Matt obviously being able to feel the patterns made with thread and needle and discern them) and he just realizes happily his partner is back to making art again... I know this is a VERY specific ask and I'm so sorry 😭 you don't have to write it if you don't want to 😭 but it would make me really happy too bc... It's sort of a self insert there to be honest... Well anyhow SORRY FOR THE LONG ASK (and for my poor english) and again HAPPY BIRTHDAY QUEEEEEN!!!!

— 🌞

AHHH this was such an amazing idea to write! Thank you so much for your request, Sun! This ask was so incredibly detailed I was scared of doing it wrong, so it took me a few days to finish. But don't ever apologize for telling me exactly what you want because getting this request was honestly a joy. I know that feeling of not being able to, in my case write because of my mental health, sometimes for months on end, so this was personal. It makes me all giddy that you trusted me to bring this idea to life. In this house, we support self-indulgence! I tried my best to stay true to your request, so I hope you enjoy! It turned from a Drabble into a whole-ass One Shot, but honestly, you deserve it. (Also I love how you signed off as a sun and wanted me to incorporate embroidering a sun into Matt's clothes, which led to me using that word a lot during this fic. I don't know it just makes me really happy).

Of Suns And Flowers

Event Masterlist | Matt Murdock Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x GN!Reader (no pronouns or physical descriptions used)

Request: A bouquet of… peonies and daisies.

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of mental health issues (depression, anxiety, but nothing explicit), struggling with creativity due to said mental health issues

WC: 1.2k

(This also marks the last request for this event. Wrapping things up with a sweet little treat.)

You haven’t been yourself lately. Depression. Anxiety over being depressed. Work. It’s a toxic cocktail that poisons you from the inside out. When it happens, you retreat into your shell like a scared turtle to somehow survive the million thoughts rushing through your mind. 

Matt doesn’t need you to say the words to know. What hurts him most is sensing the light leave your body whenever the demons take over; they turn every brightly colored aspect of your character and paint them dark. 

The art you usually burn for lies discarded in a box in the closet. Brushes, pencils, empty canvases, and even the expensive collection of oil paint he got you for your birthday remain untouched. 

Matt is aware of how guilty you feel when you can’t create, but every time he asks you, “You want to do some pottery together?” Or anything else that would tickle the light out of you, you just smile and say, “I’m sorry, I’m busy. Maybe tomorrow.” But tomorrow is always the same. 

He knows you’re not fine. Your inspiration has died, and he doesn’t know what to do. He can hold you as you cry. He can try and put out those fires of doubt that consume every fiber of your being, and he can love you, but he doesn’t know how to bring the art back into your life. 

One morning though, when Matt adjusts his tie back at the office, he notices something different. He traces his fingers over the intricate design on the inside of the fabric. At first, he can’t make sense of it. It feels odd, almost, an amalgamation of thread in the shape of a sun. He can’t remember it being there when he first bought it, but he doesn’t question it further—until the strange sensation finds him again on the inside of his suit jacket a few days later. A flower, he’s sure of it. Most of his suits are as old as his law degree, so he’s sure it wasn’t there before. 

To study the sudden appearance of these designs further than the one thought in his mind telling him exactly what he wants them to be, he decides to pull Foggy into his office one day and ask him, “Can you look at something for me?”

His friend raises his eyebrows. “You know I don’t mind helping you, buddy,” he starts, “but I’m not a doctor.”

Matt sighs. “That’s not–” He opens his suit jacket to demonstrate. The thread is now carefully placed right where his left chest pocket lies, in the shape of what he assumes to be a bouquet of lavender, poppies, and daisies. “Here,” he points to it, “See that?” 

Foggy gasps, and he bends down a little to observe the design. “Oh, wow! That’s awesome. Where’d you get that?” 

Still not sure if his senses are betraying him, he runs his finger over it again. “That’s the thing. I don’t know.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know?”

“I don’t know how it got there. It wasn’t like that when I bought it.”

“Well, they’re flowers,” Foggy states. “Embroidered flowers. Poppies, lavender… and I think those are daisies.”

“Embroidered?” Matt asks.

“Yeah. If you ever find out who did this, tell them to send me the pattern. It’s amaze-balls. Marci would love it.” 

Huh. Embroidery. It doesn’t take him long to put two and two together, and his lips curl into a smile. A broad one, not a smirk. It’s like the sky has opened up and the sun is shining down on Hell’s Kitchen again. On him. On you. And the weight on his shoulders seems to fall off almost instantly.

When he comes home later that evening to find the air smelling of his favorite Indian takeout, he drops his bag by the door and makes his way toward the sound of your heartbeat. It’s getting steadier, he notices it. Your breaths weigh less heavily in the air. The one thing he wanted to be true seems to have actually become true: you’re creating again. 

“Hi,” you greet him with a smile, albeit a little exhausted.

“Hi,” he smiles back, not wasting a second to wrap his arms around your frame and press a chaste kiss to your head. “I missed you.”

“Missed you too. How was work?”

“Lots of paperwork. How was your day?” 

“Same,” you say, “but I picked up dinner on the way home.”

He hums. “I can smell that. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

You reach for the cutlery to set the table, but Matt catches your wrist mid-action. “Actually, I have something to ask you,” he says.

You swallow. Your pulse starts to race. You’ve been waiting for this moment, he can tell, trying to figure out how long you can get away with this, and once again the sun comes out. 

“Someone’s been tampering with my suits.” He reveals the embroidery on the inside of his suit jacket as if it were news to both of you. “They’re flowers, I asked Foggy, and somehow every item of clothing I own suddenly has one. You have any idea who could’ve done this?”

Blood rushes to your cheeks. “I am so sorry,” you ramble. “I got this new embroidery set, and I got really into it, so I wanted to try out how they’d look on different fabric, and… well, your tie was kinda just there, and then I moved on to your jackets because why not? You know, and–”

“Baby,” Matt laughs, cutting you off with his hands on your shoulders, “Baby, breathe! It’s okay. I’m not mad.” 

You shut your mouth. “Oh.”

“I just… you haven’t touched your arts and crafts in, what, weeks? Months?”

“I felt like trying something new.”

“And you have no idea how happy that makes me,” he says. “These flowers… They feel amazing. Beautiful.”

“They’re a bit crooked,” you try to argue.

He shushes you, his forehead now resting against yours. “You’re making art again. That’s a big deal. And crooked or not, they’re beautiful to me.”

You melt against him. How can you not when the thing you were most insecure about turned out to be a good thing?

“I missed you,” his voice is barely above a whisper, “and I am so proud of you.”

You take his hands off your shoulders and into your own. “Thank you.”

“I mean it, sweetheart.” He kisses your forehead, your eyes, your nose, and then finally, he reaches your lips. The kiss is soft, chaste, but it conveys those three little words he doesn’t even have to utter anymore. 

I love you. 

“You really don’t mind?” you ask then, uncertainty still gnawing away at you. 

“Mind?” he says, almost offended you would ever think that, and he places your hands on his jacket. “This is the best uniform a good lawyer could ask for.”

From that day on, Matt flaunts every little (or big) piece of embroidery on his clothing. Even long after you have crawled your way out of that slump, he keeps flaunting the fact his partner is such a talented artist in everything they do, and when you forward the pattern to Marci, Foggy soon enough joins in on the trend. 

[sorrowsofsilence]

memento mori • n.s

pairing: noah sebastian x gn!reader

words: 1.6k

warnings: ANGST, grief, loss, death, mourning (this is kinda heavy, please do not feel like you need to read im getting out feelings)

summary: "if you're watching this, im dead."

note: i think i was feeling some kinda way because i don't really know where this came from lol, but here's a quick little blurb if you enjoy angst <3

THIS IS A FANFICTION USING A REAL PERSON IN A FICTIONAL SCENARIO! I AM NOT IMPLYING THEY WOULD ACT THIS WAY OR DO THE THINGS IN MY FANFICTION- IT IS FOR FUN, AND IT IS SIMPLY FICTION! <3

I sat in front of my computer screen, shell-shocked as the haunting words of his last video echoed in my ears.

"If you're watching this, I'm dead."

My heart clenched at his words, chest tightening as my breath caught in my throat. My room around me felt cold, too large and too empty, even with the myriad of knick-knacks and photos that adorned every available surface.

With trembling hand I reached out a to replay the video, but hesitated before I could do it. His face was frozen on the screen, eyes full of sorrow and resignation. A face I had fallen in love with; a stranger’s face that had brought so much unanticipated joy into my life.

His voice echoed through the silence again, the words heavy with grief and regret.

For what? For whom?

Refreshing the page, I watched his face light up the screen- his brown eyes warm and laughing, a stark contrast to the somber look from the end of the video. I watched as he talked about his day, his love for music, his appreciation of movies and games. It was all so normal, so Noah. It was easy to forget, just for a moment, what the end of the video would bring.

Then came the shift, where his bright demeanour began to fall away, replaced by a solemnity that felt unnatural on his usually vibrant face.

"I have some news," he began, his voice cracking slightly under the weight of his words. Even though I’d already heard him say it, part of me still hoped the next words out of his mouth would be different.

"But before I tell you," he said with a long pause, staring directly into the camera as if he knew I was watching, “I want you to remember the fun we had. I want you to remember the laughter, the joy...how I always kicked ass at super smash," His voice wavered with a stiff laugh, vulnerable and raw.

"I want you to remember me as I was, not as I will be."

My vision blurred with tears as his gaze bore into mine through the screen. Pulling my knees to my chest in an attempt at comfort while sitting at my desk, I choked back the tears that threatened to spill.

His words, even though for thousands, felt painfully intimate; like we were alone in an empty world, sharing a private moment of heart-wrenched farewell.

The long-haired brunette continued, "If you're watching this, I'm dead."

The harsh reality of his words hit me again like a physical blow, the tears falling as saliva grew in my mouth, lips quickening.

I watched his face crumple with sorrow before he collected himself, taking a deep breath. An inked hand came up to rub his face, as though he was struggling with words.

"There's no easy way to say it," he said, voice trembling with held-back tears, "I've been sick for a while... I didn't want anyone to worry. So, I kept it to myself."

Taking my sleeve, I rubbed my eyes as he continued.

"But now..." His voice wavered, "Now, I'm gone."

I watched in helpless agony as he tried to smile through his tears, a raw attempt to offer comfort, that he may have needed more.

The image of Noah, smiling despite everything, was a painful reminder of just how much I had lost; what the people in his life had lost.

“And I’m sorry.”

And here he was, apologizing to us for dying.

His brave facade crumbled then, and he broke down, weeping openly on screen. Noah’s sobs echoed through the quiet room, filling the spaces between my cries. I wanted to reach out to comfort him, but he was no longer there…only his digital ghost remained, memorialized within the code.

"I don't want you to mourn me," he said, his voice merely a whisper. "I want you to celebrate me for the life I've lived, and not the life I've lost."

His words knotted in my chest, a cruel irony in the face of the anguish that strung me. How was I to celebrate him? When every fibre of my being felt shredded by grief?

"You’ve been my friends," he continued softly, “and in a weird way, my family. You’ve joined streams with me through my best and worst times. I read every comment, every message; you didn’t know it but you gave me strength and laughter when I needed it most.”

Tears welled anew in my eyes. The impact of his sincere words left my heart racing, and limbs warming in misery.

"I need you to promise me something," he choked out after a moment, his gaze unwavering from the camera.

I sniffed, wiping my eyes again, his plea holding an intensity that made it impossible for me to look away

"Promise me you won't let my story end with my death," he said, sharing a small smile.

His voice tremored, yet it was filled with a surprising steeliness. "Promise me that you'll remember the joy, the laughter... the love."

His eyes held a fervour that pierced my heart; a vow exchanged under the silent witness of testimonial sorrow.

"I want you to take whatever you’ve found in my videos. Every smile, every piece of advice- every Mortal Kombat combo,” He paused, swallowing harshly with a dismissed laugh. "I want you... I want you to live."

The weight of his words hung in the air like a solemn promise. Live. He wanted me to live, us - fully and completely

"Love generously," he whispered, "Don’t take being here for granted.”

Noah smiled, nodding towards me, “You are worthy, and you are cherished. You make an impact on this earth, whether you believe so or not. You have a purpose.”

I continued to sob as his words flowed out of the speakers, dancing through the room in a mournful ballad.

His brown eyes bore into mine from the screen as he tucked a strand of brunette hair behind his ears.

"But most of all," he added, his voice barely more than a whisper now, "I want you to know that even though I'm not physically here anymore, I'll always be with you."

His words wrapped around my body in a comforting hug, and I squeezed my knees closer to my chest. As I rested my chin upon them, letting the tears stain my jeans I shared a bitter smile with the man I appreciated more than life itself.

The finality of Noah’s message was there – stark and painful – yet beneath it was an underlying message of hope and resilience.

"Thank you," he smiled after a pause, wiping away his cheeks with the sleeve of his black hoodie, "Thank you for being a part of my journey."

The screen blanked as the video ended, leaving me alone in the silence.

A sense of loss washed over me, raw and broken, desolate and despondent.

I sat there for a while longer, holding my body as his words echoed in my mind.

'Love generously. You are worthy. You have a purpose.’

The sentiment clung to the edges of my consciousness, like a mantra slowly seeping into my being.

My steps felt heavy and slow when I found the strength to leave my room, each one an effort to move forward.

Grief was insidious like that, invading every thought and action with its hollow grasp, embellishing its roots deep beneath the skin of heartache.

Yet, was I allowed to mourn someone who was ultimately in the end, a stranger?

But when I crawled back up the stairs, into the safety of my room, I crawled into bed and let myself open his channel once again.

Unwanted tears welled up again as I glanced at the screen, scrolling through the various streams and uploads. For so long, it had been my window to Noah - his thoughts, his creations, his heart-warming smiles.

Now, it was merely a screen- the end of the illusion that I had been a part of his life, even though we were strangers separated by thousands of miles.

The digital veil was a beautiful thing; allowing us to feel a brief sense of connection- until it’s pulled away.

And although we were strangers, he reached out to us in his most vulnerable moment.

He had shared his pain, his fear, and ultimately his hope for those of us left behind.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, I hovered my thumb over another video title - 'Noah's Adventures: Ocean with the Boys’.

When I hit play, there he was. Alive. Vibrant.

His infectious smile tugged at my heartstrings as he pointed excitedly at the stunning sunset around him, knocking into his best friends. The brunette’s laughter filled my room, dispelling the stifling silence that had taken hold of my heart.

With every passing second of the video, I cried, my chest aching as my throat tightened with grief and pain- yet nostalgia and laughter as I smiled with him.

"Ya boy Noah here," he said with that familiar twinkle in his eyes, "Me and the gang thought a picnic would be a good idea,”

He then held up a container of sacramental bread, his bizarre favourite snack.

“I got jesus bones, Nick’s got the vodka.”

The chorus of laughter that erupted as Noah smiled cheekily into the camera left my heart aching at the sight of his friends- his family.

I mourned for them, too.

This was the Noah he wanted us to remember: full of life.

As the video drew to an end, the screen filled the brilliant hues of orange and purple splashed across the sky, as if painted by an ardent artist.

Noah looked at the camera with a serene smile.

"Life is a masterpiece," he said, out of breath as he stood upon the hill, capturing the water behind him, "Each day is a new brush stroke adding to its beauty.”

The video ended with a shot of the sky, Noah's laughter dancing into the twilight.

His last phrase lingered into the silence:

"Remember to appreciate it."

memento mori.

tags:

@thefallennightmare @xxkittenkissesxx @deathblacksmoke @nyxisnotok @anameunmusical

@sitkowski @sammyjoeee @cookiesupplier @th4t-em0-k1d @dsireland86

@whenthesummerdies @spicywhenspeaking @veronicaphoenix @lma1986 @calleyx13

@somewhere-diamond @auratheopossumwitch @blackveilomens @skulliecadaver-blog @silentglassbreak

@darkmxgician @sprokat @thatchickwiththecamera @reyadawn @xserenax-13

@philomenie @into-the-grey @amelia-acero @blend-in-with-the-madness @rumoured-whispers

@anything-more-than-human @blacksoul-27 @sweetwombatpizza

[jelsah27]

imposter syndrome talked ab just some forewarning

In History Class

MC: *walks into class with a small smile on their face*

Deuce: Good morning, MC. You seem happy today.

Ace: Yeah what's got you all smiley?

MC: Well, Kalim and Jamil were at my dorm the other day. Kalim really wanted to know about foods from my world and Jamil tagged along for obvious reasons. At on point Kalim wanted to look at my room and he found my snap-out-of-it post-it notes on the wall.

Deuce: Snap-out-of-it post-it notes?

MC: Oh, yeah they help remind me that a lot of the problems I think I have aren't really as problematic as I think. Like "Every personality is a creation of experiences that make you you." or "My friends like me because I am me". You see a while ago I figured out that I have a bit of Imposter Syndrome.

Ace: A bit of what?

MC: Well, it's pretty much I feel like I'm not the person everyone thinks I am. I'm not the gifted child everyone remembers or the smart person everyone seems to think I am. That if I can't hurry up and live up to everyone's expectations that they'll figure out I'm not as great a person they think I am and be disappointed and angry that all I am is an empty shell of who they believed I was and leave. Some times it will also come in the form of believing that my friends only want to be around me out of pity or that if I don't like what they like or want to do the same things as them then they will leave, even if they've reassured me they love me. I think the worst thoughts I ever got from it was when I started to believe that my personality was fake and that I didn't know why I was so different than the kid everyone liked. I started to believe that I had faked my personality from different shows, books, or even people to even have one.

MC: Honestly I didn't even realize it was imposter syndrome till someone else pointed it out to me after telling them this. I genuinely had no clue I was so disgusted with myself till I was talking with them about it and they pointed out that none of what I was saying was true, that everybody knew who I was and loved me as I am. I think I cried when they told me that.

Deuce: Prefect... I had no idea...

MC: It's alright, I've been learning to get better at combating it. Anyway, Kalim asked me about it and I basically told him and Jamil what I just told you. He then asked me what I'm doing to overcome it. So I told him about the main things that have helped. Reminding myself constantly that I am not fake or hiding who I am from people I love and who love me. Whenever I feel negative thoughts try to take over, think about one positive thing that I have done or something someone had said they love about me for every dark thought. If it gets to bad though, go to someone I trust and ask them flat out about those thoughts, it helps a lot. And twice a week I make a post-it or journal about one or two small things. Maybe a compliment someone gave me, or a task I completed. So every day or so since they've-

Jamil: *walks into the room* Prefect, here. I must get to class before Kalim catches something on fire I mean gets into trouble. Have a good day.*hands MC a small note and leaves the classroom*

MC: *smiling contently* It say 'Thank you for helping Kalim study yesterday great sevens know he needed it and your smile is unique'

Deuce: *getting out paper* If it helps you, I'll gladly join in.

Little bit of a rant u can skip I hope you enjoyed the post <3 Y'all I'm sorry I didn't mean to trauma dump but I really like the idea. But the story is true and I did cry (and it was in a restaurant) when my sis told me I was wrong and she knew who I really and she loves me. That our friends won't leave because all humans have opinions and we are allowed to clash. And that my personality isn't fake, that everyone's personality is what they've created themselves and that people add and take away from themselves all the time and work on parts of themselves they don't like to become better. That my brain was just being dark when there was many lights around me, waiting to be recognized. If any of y'all read this its just one side of imposter syndrome, there are a few versions and many levels of severity. I genuinely think you are awesome and perfectly imperfect the way you are!

Anywho thanks for reading!

[shootingmorningstar]

Hello! I love your writing🤍 could I request sfw and nsfw head-canons for Husker? He doesn’t get enough love. Thank you and take your time.😽😽

Of course you can, anon .ᐟ Maybe I'm just a little biased, big fan of cats that I am, but I completely agree. Thank you, by the way. That's so sweet .ᐟ Don't worry, I saw your extra ask about a fem reader, so I'll be adding that in .ᐟ

The NSFW parts of this post will be hidden under the cut ~ . Enjoy .ᐟ

HUSKER X FEM READER HEADCANONS .ᐟ

This poor kitty cat is entirely too touch starved, even if he won't show it. Asking for affection is just not something his persona really allows, you know .ᐣ So unless it's just the two of you and your relationship has been established for quite some time, it's likely you're going to be the one to initiate physical contact.

Once you have, though .ᐣ Good luck getting him to get up. You know that feeling that you get when a pet sits on your lap and you want to get up but they just look so comfortable that you can't bear to move them .ᐣ

It's the exact same for Husk. You'd been the one to start it, your head leaning against his shoulder. It had been a long day at the hotel for both of you and you'd settled yourselves into his room, some movie that had lost the both of yours attention a while back.

Still, you love getting to spend time with him, no matter what the scenario is. Something like a boring movie couldn't even begin to put a damper on your mood. You'd just have to find something else you could enjoy doing together.

So, innocent as it had been, you'd looked over to him for some cuddles and the second he felt your weight against him, he just sort of deflates.

Like I mentioned earlier, I think he'd try to be at least a little slick about it. Sure, he's leaning back into you but that's not so bad, right .ᐣ It's not like you can tell the second you'd touched him the stress of his day had melted away, surely .ᐣ

You can absolutely tell. You wouldn't ever get this far into a relationship with Husker without being able to tell just how he's feeling.

To me, Husk isn't the sort of guy to get into empty relationships. His life is already empty enough as it is. He's practically a shell of his former self. No soul, no power, bound to a chain at Alastor's grasp .ᐣ Booze is his only vice left, and even that doesn't seem to help.

So I really can't see Husk doing anything without emotion behind it -- especially with being coerced to work full time at the Hotel. What good is something, someone else who's going to leave him after they get what they want .ᐣ

All this is to say that Husk isn't the one night stand type, or is he in it for any sort of flings. When you'd become his girlfriend it was after he'd taken the time to get to know you and you him. You were the first person in the decades that had passed after he sold his soul that made him feel something, and that doesn't happen overnight.

So, yes, you can easily read him, and you can tell that he's getting far more comfort from your touch than he's letting on. That's exactly why it's so endearing when you see him subtly reach for your hand to entwine with his own, or the way his hand seems to pause in uncertainty before wrapping his arm around you.

He also doesn't seem too outwardly excited about going out -- that is if Alastor even allows it, but don't be fooled, he is thrilled.

He loves hearing you talk about things that matter to you. You have so much passion, so much life that it helps him fill his own voids in those areas. He loves the excited look in your eye as you drag him around Pride, sharing a memory or two about your life while you were alive as you do.

Take him home after a date and grab a drink with him -- the best thing about drinking with you is that you won't let him go too far. Addiction can't be cured by love alone, but having someone to take care of him helps his mental health enough to make him want to get better.

Speaking of taking care of him .ᐣ NSFW cut here .ᐟ

If you ask me, Husker's a switch. I don't think he'd mind being the dominant partner, not in the slightest. If that's what you're into, he will gladly take that role for you. Same for submissive - he likes being dominant and submissive equally, but for different reasons.

It takes a lot for him to open up enough to admit it, but I think what he really enjoys about being submissive is just that -- by taking that role, he's getting the chance to be taken care of. That's something he never gets, not anymore.

I want to say his dick is like.. 6.5 inches .ᐣ It's always the grumpy ones with big dicks. Perfectly sized, big but not to the point where it's painful.

Kiss all over his face while you take the time to undress him and he will be putty in your hands. This is one of the only times you'll catch him blushing.

Not to mention the instant hard-on.

He's really big on cowgirl when he's playing the submissive role. There's something about you taking the work into your own hands by riding him and just allowing him to relax and enjoy that drives him insane. Let him lay back and watch how gorgeous you are straddling him.

Bonus points if you lean forward enough to take his hand in your own and talk gently to him.

Please praise him while he's being submissive .ᐟ Tell him how good of a boy he is and how much you love him, how good you want to make him feel. He'll purr so loudly.

Pull his tail. Do it while he's close and he's cumming immediately.

As for Husk in the dominant role .ᐣ He loves it because every single other form of control in his life has been taken away.

He gets to decide almost nothing, and the thrill he gets from being in charge of both your pleasure and his is enough to spark a possessive attitude in him.

You won't leave him like everyone else, right .ᐣ You're the last thing he has. He'll treat you so good, you'll never feel unloved when you're with him so please say you're his .ᐣ

Let him prove it with bite marks and he will be over the moon. He looks like the cat who got the cream. In more ways than one.

Call it this to his face and he'll scowl, but he's huge on doggy when he's dominant. Just the thought of getting to choose where he bends you over and takes you is enough to get him hard and aching. I can't imagine he's too big on degradation, though. It hits just a little too close to home, and even if it's just an act, you don't deserve to ever feel less than.

This was my first time fulfilling a nsfw request, so I hope it's to you guys' liking .ᐟ My last imagines blog was sfw only, so I'm just a little nervous posting this. Let me know if it came out well .ᐣ As always, feedback fuels my writing muse .ᐟ A like or a comment would make my day. Bye for now ~

[bogkeep]

when i was a teen, i was in love with my best friend. to this day i cannot tell you with any certainty whether or not i was in love romantically or platonically. i don't know and i don't care. it's very possible there is a difference, but i never found it. i've asked many people about it and everyone has their own definition of where that line goes, none that ever applied to my own experiences. there is no satisfying, universal and objective line. i think that's good, actually. the idea that there is some shining abstract concept that's specialer than all the other concepts that can only be achieved like nirvana by some people and not others is not a comfortable idea. this is not to say that everyone has the same feelings and experiences, absolutely not - but we categorize our experiences within the contexts we exist in. or maybe that's just word salad.

i know that - at the time, i knew i was deeply connected to this other person and kept thinking about her all the time and we talked about wanting to be close friends for our whole lives and wrote poetry together about our soulmateness and we made mutual friends feel like a third wheel. i knew i had no desire to kiss her or take her on dates, and she crushed on some boy at summer camp, but the connection between us was mutual and explicit. if the concept of a queerplatonic relationship had been available to us at the time, maybe we would've recognized it as such. i just knew that what i was feeling didn't match up at all with what i've been told 'being in love' was supposed to be like - especially because, at the time, Being In Love also included sexual attraction. we had just cracked open the 2010's and asexuality was a punchline and a joke.

i know that - during the time i was made to feel ashamed of my aroace identity and the narrative was that i'm actually just repressing my TRUE queer identity, i reframed my memories - i had obviously been in love with my friend Romantically. i was a Real Gay. i was Valid. I Was Sapphic Actually. you can't kick me out of the parade if i had pined for my best friend as a teen!!!!

i know that - once i reclaimed the pride in myself, i reframed the memories again: i had obviously been in love with my friend Platonically, because otherwise i would've been a traitor to the good name of aromanticism. if i knew what it was like to have a crush i would contradict myself. who am i to write about romantic love as if i know? what was i doing at the devil's sacrament?

maybe it is a mystery. maybe i don't know shit. it's hard, actually, to know anything at all when the way my strange brain filters emotions through my body reads so different to the user manual. how can anyone stand to pine for another when it's all anxiety, all day? "butterflies"???? really????? how am i supposed to know anything for sure when my brain's favourite hobby is to pick thoughts apart and run them through the distortion machine on repeat, on repeat, on repeat? i don't know if i've ever loved anyone at all, now that i think about it. maybe i'm an empty shell of a human and everything i do is an act of puppetry and wishful thinking.

i just gotta trust that the love is there, in some form or another. even when i can't reach for it and confirm its existence - let alone deduce a detailed taxonomy. what do you even need that for.

[fairycosmos]

I just read your post about your lack of identity and I feel so very similar. I've always been shy and quiet and weird even as a kid but nowadays (I'm 23) I have extreme social anxiety and one tip I always hear is to "just be yourself" and to not be ashamed if you say/do something embarassing etc etc. And the thing is...I dont know how to be myself. I spent the last 5 years basically only interacting with my immediate family because i lost all my friends due to my mental illness and my being unable to be a normal young person. And in this time of (relative) isolation all these things that humans naturally do in interactions or just everyday life have become very hard and artificial-feeling for me. Like everything i do i am aware of and i think it through, even the dumbest stuff like scratching my fucking nose. Now when I'm around other people I lose all sense of who I am and what I want to do and say. I'm not even scared to embarass myself anymore, I just turn into a completely empty shell around others because it feels like all of myself is gone then, so it is IMPOSSIBLE for me to "be myself". What would myself do now? Smile? Say something? Move around in my seat? I literally dont know. Who am I even? And then I HAVE TO put on some kind of facade and try to act normal because otherwise i would literally sit there, staring blankly into space with no expression, not saying a word. It is so fucking hard. Sorry for telling you this, I hope you have a nice day if you ever read this <3

i completely understand what you mean, im in the same boat and honestly you articulated this so well.....ive nicknamed it social or mental atrophy and it's incredibly painful and disorienting to deal with......what's worse is you'd think the simple solution is to just force yourself to be around people more but it's not that simple at all and it just sucks so fucking bad. especially the older you get. im 23 too and i just feel like i never got to develop a mind or personality of my own around others. to this day im just on autopilot with nothing to offer and my natural state is just silence and not talking or expressing anything. people are obviously not very drawn to that and it's just a really lonely way to be but i quite literally don't know how to be anything else. i go through that too - just questioning what am i supposed to do in this moment? what would "i" do or say? i just don't know and ive tried really hard to push myself into social situations for years and it still hasn't changed anything. yeah, i completely get what you mean - it's really hard and im sorry you have to deal with it as well. i truly hope you find people who appreciate you the way you deserve to be appreciated. i hope you're able to discover yourself bit by bit and that you feel comfortable enough to express that someday. i hope you have a nice day too and if you ever need a friend or anything feel free to shoot me a message ❤️

[enbyzombies2]

alright. ableism 101 for gravity falls fans. because we can't ignore it a second longer.

"Ableism is discrimination and social prejudice against physically or mentally disabled people. Ableism characterizes people as they are defined by their disabilities and it also classifies disabled people as people who are inferior to non-disabled people."

^ we are including mental illness under the category of disabled for the purposes of this post, as so many of you can't imagine a guy with ptsd being a person

disability is not worse than death. some people may view it that way for themselves, but you have no right to say it about another person, especially if you are abled. so don't even think about it. disabled life has value, period, full stop. stop calling people with serious brain damage vegetables, empty shells, etc. They have value just by being alive and disabled even if a machine breathes for them and they need 24/7 care

^ yes, some family members and people close to a disabled person will think this way, think that they're being compassionate for "not wanting them to live this way", but again, it is not really their place to have an opinion. they can have emotions about the situation but do not place those on the disabled person, who is likely having loads more complicated emotions than they are. the disabled person's life is just as important as theirs for not being diabled.

do some research before writing about a specific symptom or condition. too many fics about ford having seizures that clearly have no idea what happens after a seizure, let alone the first one a person has had (or at least one so bad it was recognized as such by themselves and the people around them). you don't get diagnosed with epilepsy because an ED doctor who doesn't specialize in this kind of thing looked at you after one seizure and said "yeap, probably". you get an eeg and a seizure study and trial run of various medications (that you cannot just go off of without serious consequences) and a whole lot more. this is a single specific example, but generally speaking, take some time out of your day to read up on what people actually experience and how it affects them. you might actually gain some compassion for them that way (/bitter)

polydactyly is a limb difference that, yes, people are discriminated against for, socially and professionally. it's not inherently considered a disability, but it can be one depending on a lot of factors. what i'm saying is, be normal about ford or i'll kill you.

be normal about autistic ppl. stop writing them as all the same person with the same symptoms regardless of what the character actually does in canon

be normal about ppl w (c)ptsd. their flashbacks do not make them "feral", even if they become violent and uncommunicative during them, and they are allowed to have emotions about the things that happened to them without someone else butting in to tell them how to feel.

be normal about ppl w personality disorders too. you can hc ford with npd all you want, that's cool, but for the love of god, think about who your audience is and what they will take away from you attempting to say that ford is a horrible person who *happens* to have npd.

be normal about ppl w psychosis. hi. formerly psychotic person here. we are not insane or crazy or deserve to be locked up for our experiences. we are rarely violent towards other people and are more likely to hurt ourselves, or be hurt by other people who are not psychotic. our symptoms might seem scary to you, but We are not scary.

TAKE. ABUSE. SERIOUSLY. that's the entire bullet point.

take a character's experiences seriously, because all of them have happened to a real life person out there. "haha stan did sex work for drugs isn't that so funny" no, because i know people who did the same, and it was not funny in the slightest. "haha ford was abused by a loser who can't even tie his own shoes" i can't tie my own shoes due to dexterity problems stemming from autism and muscle weakness, and i was also abused by a loser (aka. every abuser out there) so how do you think i feel hearing you say that. enjoy your lol toxic yaoi but maybe consider real survivors before you go around talking about how stupid ford is for (checks notes) being manipulated and gaslit?

i hate bill, but i am also a survivor of medical neglect and psychiatric hospitalization, and i can understand that bill being sent to "haha grippy sock jail" is not funny. it is horrible and it is disgusting to joke about how he's being medically abused as if nobody actually experiences that. yes, he is a horrible person, but not even abusers deserve abuse. nobody does, that's the whole point. nobody is obligated to forgive an abuser, but nobody should be subject to systemic violence that will go ignored because they did bad things so obviously they deserve it.

don't fucking use slurs. didn't think we had to spell that one out for you.

ok? ok.

[bethanydelleman]

Pssstt what do you think of Eloise Bridgerton?

Lots of people seem to love her and her outspokenness and I understand that the show is a very fictional very fanfiction fiction set in a very fanfiction-y Regency era and her dissatisfaction of her life as a woman is justified

But

Am I the only one who distastes her attitude? She's rude. She doesn't care about other people's feelings, not even her own mother or her sister, Daphne who yes has very different views about marriage compared to her but I think most of the time Daphne is nice towards her and all that she can spout is how she's Different and she doesn't want to marry that men had it so much better than women. It's giving very condescending energy

She's not wrong about the unfairness of women's situation but she's also a higher rank woman and it's just....*frustrated noise, I wish she's written for the show as less of a child who has just learned of the phrase 'women's right' who's made it their entire personality and more of a person who's conscious of the differences in privilege between men and women and tries to change that, emphasize in 'tries' instead of whatever she's supposed to be- whiny and rude

If she's the face of women's right movement, I'll be fine with it, but it's also very annoying

Or

Am I just weird for not liking her because she actually has some really good points? Idk

I find Eloise Bridgerton incredibly annoying and I'm not sure if the show is self-aware enough to know that they made her extremely irritating. And this also comes back to my girl sad about arranged marriage post... Caveat that it's been a while since I watched S1 & S2 of Bridgerton and I won't be watching 3 because I hated 2.

Eloise sounds and acts like an incredibly entitled university student who has never had a paying job. The stuff she says is "right" in a modern sense, or at least takes a modern perspective when it comes to women's rights, but it sounds canned given the imagined era. The big problem is that as far as I remember, Eloise only cares about women, mostly herself, and not about class. Her discovery during her investigation that servants don't have the time to publish a paper could have led to her realizing something, but it didn't. She whines about her "plight" but doesn't seem to have any real compassion for frankly anyone. It's an entirely selfish one woman campaign.

The fact is, Eloise comes from a very rich family and her siblings are very kind, she doesn't have to marry. If she is like any Jane Austen heroine, it's Emma. Austen made Emma sympathetic by showing an Emma who doesn't whine at all, but suffers from the weight of her duty and limited options. Jane Fairfax was the one who very occasionally complained about her lot in life, and her future was bleak. Being a governess sucked and was usually a dead-end job that required a ton of work.

Eloise could have been great. They could have put the words of real women's rights activists from her time period in her mouth, like Mary Wollstonecraft. They could have even borrowed from Jane Austen, who has many women beg to be regarded as "rational creatures" who know their own hearts. Instead, she feels like a hollow shell of empty rhetoric, a petulant child with no compassion for anyone but herself, and a mouthpiece of hackneyed modern sentiments.

So yeah I'm with you.

[zhaohuis-lost-walnut]

Zechuan vs Lanzhou: What’s in a Name?

[vague spoilers up to chapter 181 I think? idk, it's not even a big deal probably]

One aspect of the story that has always intrigued me is how Shen Zechuan seems to compartmentalize "Shen Zechuan" and "Shen Lanzhou". I honestly wanted to make a post about that specifically, but I had a hard time finding the words to describe what I wanted to say ToT

But in my attempt to make that post, I realized something that I only really thought about while rereading my notes and various chapters: The way Shen Zechuan and Xiao Chiye use "Lanzhou" is very different. And it has been driving me insane!

So I guess I'm making the post I wanted to from the very beginning after all, and then some!

First, I shall establish how I believe Shen Zechuan sees "Zechuan" vs "Lanzhou". The short of it is "Lanzhou" is Shen Zechuan's carefully curated persona. But it isn't simply a mask; there are many scenes, especially in the later parts of the book, where Shen Zechuan goes into heavy detail about "Shen Lanzhou". Shen Zechuan describes "Lanzhou" as the only part of himself untouched by Shen Wei, fully belonging to himself. "Lanzhou" is like a symbol that keeps Shen Zechuan grounded. While Lanzhou can still be ruthless, it's a very calculated ruthlessness. Shen Lanzhou isn't striving to be a good person, but he's a least a lot more palatable than "Shen Zechuan".

"Shen Zechuan" has been "killed off", leaving an empty shell where only vindictiveness remains. In chapter 68, it's mentioned that "Shen Zechuan" has "a pure heart with few desires". But it is later established that that "purity" did not mean "sanctity", but rather, the idea that "a kindness given is a kindness given, and a wrong done is a wrong done" as said in chapter 72. "Shen Zechuan" is driven by revenge. In later chapters the story introduces the motif of "Shen Zechuan" needing to be sheathed and it's so beautifully well done. But it's not solely about controlling his anger and murderous impulses.

Shen Zechuan carries a lot of shame. And as much as he wants to act like none of his humanly desires remain, they do. He has people he cares about: at the beginning of the story, its only Qi Huilian and Ji Gang. But as the story progresses, his circle of those he's fond of grows. Even before he leaves Qudu he finds himself genuinely moved by Cen Yu's praise in chapter 75.

"Shen Zechuan" isn't just the angry remnants of a person wronged. "Shen Zechuan" is everything he represses. The bad and the good. In the first half of the story, Shen Zechuan is very detached from his actions. But in the latter half, especially as he gets closer with Xiao Chiye, he starts to not only criticize himself more, increasing his shame, but also confronts his feelings.

After meeting with Xiao Fangxu in chapter 163, Shen Zechuan worries that he won't be accepted because "Shen Zechuan" makes him untrustworthy. Thinking to himself: “Many of what he did in the past had their roots in impure motives. As long as he got his hands on it, he would fully exploit it. He called all of those “hypocrisies”, and they were even more atrocious before Xiao Chiye had come into the picture. That was why he could not—dared not tell anyone.”

Man, I hate it when my political strategies mess up my chances with the in-laws.

On a serious note, Shen Zechuan has had moments previous to this where he self deprecates, but I feel that after he had to confront himself in this way, (aka, his moves affecting his personal relationships) it got worse :D He continues to unpack this throughout the story with ups and downs and I simply love the way it's handled in the narrative.

Now, Xiao Chiye.

While I haven't made several notes and google docs marking down Xiao Chiye's use of "Lanzhou" like I did for Shen Zechuan, I will simply trust my brain to not lie to me for this post <3

I'm mostly focusing on them as a couple because that's what's been rotting my brain, but I find it interesting that Shen Zechuan refers to Xiao Chiye with many names interchangeably, while Xiao Chiye's sole term of endearment for Shen Zechuan is simply his courtesy name: Lanzhou.

Shen Zechuan goes by many names in his head, and he has different feelings about all of them. He's Shen Wei's Son. He's Bai Cha's son. He's Shen Zechuan. He's Shen Lanzhou. He's a pupil of the Ji Clan. Grand Mentor Qi's student. And so much more.

Shen Zechuan doesn't like every part of himself. He "accepts" that he can't get rid of them, and while he doesn't let them define him, he still wishes he could scrub such connections from himself. On the other hand, he loves everything about Xiao Chiye, and I feel like that affection is mirrored in his use of all his names: Xiao Chiye, Ce'an, A-ye, Er-gongzhi, Er-lang~

But Xiao Chiye doesn't box himself into different personas. He put on an a general act in Qudu, yes, but I don't think he necessarily labeled them the way Shen Zechuan did his own.

Xiao Chiye doesn't love "Lanzhou" while fearing or chaining down "Shen Zechuan". He doesn't resent the son of Shen Wei, nor revere the son on Bai Cha. The Lanzhou in Xiao Chiye's head is different from the "Lanzhou" in Shen Zechuan's head.

To Xiao Chiye, Shen Zechuan is Lanzhou.

There's no difference. Xiao Chiye loves him. All of him. Lanzhou encapsulates all that Shen Zechuan is in a singular word. He doesn't separate the "good" from the "bad"; they're all a part of you. Xiao Chiye is all of his many titles, but at the end of the day, those fancy words don't change how he sees himself and who he is at his core. And I think this reflects in Lanzhou simply being Lanzhou to him.

Of course, Xiao Chiye can tell when Shen Zechuan is putting on a front, and he specifically wants Shen Zechuan to feel safe enough to not have to keep up his mask with him. But he also finds Shen Zechuan's "Lanzhou" hot. We know this.

There are so many scenes where the love Xiao Chiye feels towards Lanzhou truly radiates off the page. And part of me regrets not marking down every single quote that made my heart swoon (though I did save some hehe).

I really hope this made sense ToT This has been brewing in my head for a minute and I'm happy was able to articulate it at least a little bit! Thanks for reading. Until me next bout of unwellness 🫡