#I did everything I could think of but it was so miserable

[prisjean]

₊˚ˑ༄ؘ late night confessions

synopsis: after confessing how you've never had any of your firsts, frat boy!caleb is there to listen (and help  ¬ᴗ¬) but he also has something to confess aswell?

tw: MDNI +18, p in v (use protection), virginity loss, fingering, cummin inside, oral, squirting, teases a bit, caleb is a bit of a groaner, your pleasure comes first!!

author's note: hihi lovelies! so sorry i took awhile to post, life has been busy. i wanted to make something extra long because i will continue to be busy these next few weeks so i dont know when i'll be able to post but thank you so much for the love on held close, it was my best work and i wanted to capture the essence on how caleb is hehe. happy reading!

the party was still going strong downstairs. music thumping, drunken laughter spilling out onto the front lawn of the frat house, but up here, in caleb’s dorm, everything was quiet. you sat cross-legged on his bed, picking at the frayed hem of your hoodie while he lounged back against the headboard, one arm slung lazily behind his head.

this wasn’t unusual. you and caleb always ended up like this after nights out. he might be the life of the party, but he never let you walk home alone. not when he could just let you crash here, giving the two of you privacy while his roommate was away.

he took a sip from his water bottle, tilting his head to the side as he studied you. “you looked miserable down there,” he said, a smirk tugging at his lips. “don’t tell me you’re finally admitting frat parties aren’t your thing.”

you rolled your eyes. “they never were.” you take a sip from your water bottle that caleb handed to you.

he chuckled, setting the bottle on the nightstand. “then why’d you come? you know i wouldn’t have invited you if it meant you would feel terrible.”

you hesitated, tracing patterns on his blanket. “i dunno. just figured…well it’s college. i should probably try to enjoy it like everyone else.”

caleb hummed like he didn’t quite believe you. “uhuh and did you?”

you shot him a dry look. “i spent half the night dodging drunk guys who couldn’t take a hint, so what do you think?”

his smirk faded. “who?”

“relax, nothing happened,” you said quickly. “but that’s kind of the problem, isn’t it?”

caleb frowned, pushing himself up so he was properly sitting. “what do you mean?”

you let out a slow breath, you looked down at the floor. “i just… i feel like i’m behind.”

“behind what?”

“everything,” you admitted. “i’ve never had a real boyfriend. never had my first kiss, never-” you paused, suddenly regretting saying anything at all. “never mind. it’s stupid.” you dismiss your comment with a slight chuckle.

caleb was quiet for a moment. when you finally glanced up at him, you expected teasing, maybe some cocky remark about how he could “fix that” if you wanted.

but he just looked… thoughtful.

“that’s not stupid pipsqueak” he said finally. his voice was quieter now, more serious.

you sighed. “come on, caleb. you..you’ve lived. you’ve had hookups, flings, relationships or whatever you call them and i’ve had nothing.”

he gets closer and sits next to you on his bed, keeping his gaze. “and? why does that matter?”

“because,” you huffed, frustrated. “people expect you to have certain experiences by a certain age, and i just… haven’t.”

caleb’s brows furrowed. “who the hell cares what ‘people’ expect?”

you bit your lip, shrugging. “it’s just embarrassing sometimes. i feel like i’m missing out.”

he was watching you closely now, something unreadable in his gaze. “you’re not missing out on anything, pipsqueak,” he murmured.

your stomach flipped at the nickname, but you ignored it. “easy for you to say. you’ve had all your firsts.”

caleb froze but leaned closer, something like a smirk tugging at his lips, but it wasn’t cocky this time. he cups your cheek. “yeah? and you wanna know something?”

you hesitated before nodding.

“they were forgettable.”

that caught you off guard. “what?”

he exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “i mean… there were moments. but i could never look them in the eye. i just couldn’t..” his fingers curled into the fabric of his hoodie, gaze flickering away. i always made sure i wasn’t facing them, like if i did, it’d make it real and something in me would just freeze.” 

he let out a short, almost self-deprecating laugh. “like some part of me knew it wasn’t supposed to be with them or other times i would call them the wrong name.. and it would be the same name every. single. time” his jaw tightens, now his gaze never left yours. 

your stomach twisted. “caleb…”

he shook his head, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. he ruffles your hair. “you’re not behind, pipsqueak. you’re just waiting for it to actually matter.”

your breath caught. “you’ve never…?”

he shook his head once, a small, almost embarrassed smile tugging at his lips. “not in the way you think.”

the room felt smaller somehow, the space between you charged with something unsaid.

“you don’t regret that?” you asked quietly.

he hesitated, he huffs. “i think i’d regret it more if i gave my firsts to someone who actually meant something… and they didn’t feel the same.”

your heart stuttered in your chest, the weight of his words pressing down on you. but before you could say anything, caleb just gave you a lazy, lopsided smile, like he hadn’t just dropped a big piece of his life on you. he grazed your cheek, his touch lingering for just a second too long.

“don’t stress about it, okay?” he murmured. “your firsts should be with someone you want them with. not just someone convenient.”

a heavy silence settled between you, but your mind was spinning now, turning over every moment, every lingering touch, every look he had given you that you never understood, until now.

“all those girls,” you said hesitantly, your voice quieter now. “the ones you’ve been with… did none of them ever mean anything?”

caleb stiffened, his jaw tightening. he looked away, exhaling sharply through his nose like he was debating whether to tell you the truth.

then he muttered, almost too low for you to hear. “none of them were you.” he finally admitted.

you felt your cheeks heat up by the sudden change in tone. 

he scoffed at himself, scratching the back of his head. “it’s silly, huh? i’d go out, find someone who-” he let out a humorless laugh. “someone who looked just enough like you if i squinted. your hair and that same kind of smile that i adore too much. sometimes they even smelled like your vanilla perfume.”

you stared at him, your heart beating against your ribs.

he shook his head, laughing bitterly. “and for a while, it worked. i’d close my eyes and pretend it was you. just for a little bit.” his voice dropped lower, ashamed. “but then it’d be over, and i’d wake up, and it wasn’t. and i’d hate myself for it.”

you swallowed hard. “caleb…”

his eyes met yours again, and for once, there was no smirk, no teasing glint. just raw honesty.

“but that didn’t stop me,” he admitted. “because i thought..heh i convinced myself..i’d never actually have you. and if I couldn’t, then what was the harm in pretending?”

a heavy silence settled between you. your chest ached, not just for him, but for yourself, for all the moments you never realized he was looking at you like that. the only thing that echoed now was the faint music from the speakers coming from the party downstairs.

“…and now?” you whispered.

caleb exhaled, something almost resigned in his expression. “and now i don’t even wanna pretend anymore.”

“you don’t…have too..” you whispered as both of your faces were mere inches from each other. a quiet breath came first followed by caleb looking down at your lips before he traced his hand down your chin. then, caleb kissed you.

he was slow at first but hesitant, as if he was still trying to convince himself this was real. his hand slid to cup the back of your neck, pulling you in deeper. he places your back on his bed, the weight of him settling over you while fighting for dominance with his tongue. 

he kissed you like he was making up for every stolen glance, every moment spent pretending. his tongue brushed against yours, coaxing, claiming, demanding in a way that sent heat pooling in your stomach.

then he slowed, breathing heavy as he pulled back just enough for his forehead to rest against yours. his thumb traced your jaw, his voice barely above a whisper.

"tell me to stop," he said, but his voice wavered, like he was terrified of what he’d do if you actually did.

you swallowed hard, your hands turned to knuckles."i don’t want you to."

a sharp exhale, like he had been holding his breath. his lips ghosted over yours, his grip tightening ever so slightly. his breath hot over your lips "then tell me…" his voice was desperate. "tell me that whatever happens next, you won’t regret it." he grabs your hand to kiss it before looking into your eyes once more awaiting your answer. “i want to be your first.” his puppy eyes now settling upon you. 

you lifted that same hand, brushing your fingers through his hair. “caleb,” you whispered, soft but certain. “i could never regret you. i want this more than you could ever know.”

with a warm smile, he kissed you again, harder this time, more sure of himself. his hand slid down your waist, grounding himself in the feeling of you beneath him.

his hand traced the curve of your cheek before trailing lower, his lips followed.

he dove into your neck, attacking you with nibbles. what started as slow, lingering kisses turned into teasing bites that sent a shiver down your spine. his teeth grazed over your skin before his tongue followed, soothing the marks he was leaving behind. your clear skin was now painted with his touch, evidence of his undying love for you. he thought, what could be just a one-night fling to you, felt like more than everything to him. if what was happening now was just for one night, he was determined to make this into a memory that will keep him going. 

he trails a free hand to the base of your skirt, tugging on the zipper while his lips stay latched on your neck. with a sudden “zzzip” filling the room, he continues his path, guiding his hand lower and successfully reaching inside your underwear. you felt shivers down your spine as caleb rolls circles on your clit, sending a gasp out of you. 

you grip at his shoulder, feeling the fabric of his jacket wrinkle under your grasp. you didn’t know how to comprehend the amount of pleasure he was giving you. moans started to escape your lips as caleb continued to caress your clit, his every touch left you almost breathless but wanting more. your body started to tense up, an unknown feeling that only escalated your arousal. 

caleb let out a low chuckle before trailing a series of soft, lingering kisses along your lips. just as you try to keep up with your breath, he captured your mouth again, tilting your head to deepen the kiss, his touch both teasing and possessive. his tongue slipped past your parted lips, prying your mouth open as he explored you further, muffling your shaky moans with an intense and consuming kiss.

“this feels s-so good..” you managed to whisper in between kisses, your body responding to every relentless touch. caleb still not losing his rhythm on your clit, his lips never leaving yours as he pulled back just enough to smile.

"i'm glad..because I won’t be stopping anytime soon," he said, his voice low and teasing.

his words sent a thrill through you, a mixture of excitement and anticipation pooling in your stomach. the more he kept playing with your clit, the more this..unknown sensation was rising inside you and he didn’t want him to stop. 

pulling his fingers away, you immediately missed the feeling, a whimper catching in your throat. before you could make a fuss on the loss, caleb dipped his head down, his breath warm against your skirt, nearing your cunt. you sucked in a shaky breath, trying to regain some semblance of control. your eyes, heavy-lidded and hazy with pleasure, flickered to the window. the stars had never looked so bright, distant, shimmering, and endless, just like the party still going on downstairs.

his hands found your hips, thumbs pressing into your hip bones in a slow, soothing motion before he hooked his fingers into your skirt. with a smooth tug, he slid it down, taking your underwear along with it, leaving you bare beneath him. caleb glanced up, his eyes smoldering as he murmured, "after tonight, i promise..this is all you'll ever think about."  

before you could even form a response, he lifted one of your legs over his shoulder, keeping you open for him. then, without warning, his mouth descended on your exposed pussy.  

the first swipe of his tongue was slow, deliberate, as if he wanted to savor you, to let the taste of you settle on his tongue. but that restraint didn't last long. his groan vibrated against your core, low and needy, like he was already losing himself. his hands gripped your thighs tighter, fingers pressing into your flesh like he needed something to ground himself. but even then, he was slipping, unraveling with every lick, every sound you made.  

his tongue moved with an eager desperation, tracing over your folds, as if he was memorizing the way you felt against his tongue. he devoured you like a man starved, each groan growing rougher, throatier, as his self-control decreased. his movements became sloppier, greedier. his lips sealing around you, sucking just to hear you gasp, his tongue lapping up every drop like he couldn’t get enough.  

when he pulled back just slightly, his lips glistening, his breath ragged, his pupils were blown wide, almost black with hunger.

��"fuck..." he exhaled, his voice rawly thick. his grip on your thighs tightened for just a second before he dove back in, dragging another long, almost desperate lick through your folds, like he had lost all sense of anything else but you. 

your fingers tangled in his mullet without thinking, pulling him closer as your hips rocked against his tongue, chasing every wave of pleasure he gave you. the heat pooling in your stomach burned hotter with each flick of his tongue, each hungry suck that left you trembling beneath him.  

"caleb—" his name slipped out in a breathless moan before you slapped a hand over your mouth, trying to stifle the sounds spilling from your lips. "that feels… s-so good," you mumbled against your palm, your voice barely holding together.  

but caleb wasn’t having that.  

still buried between your thighs, he hummed against you, a deep, satisfied sound that sent vibrations straight through your core. without pausing, he reached up, his fingers wrapping around your wrist, pulling your hand away from your lips. he laced his fingers with yours, his grip firm, grounding.  

his lips curled into a smirk against you before he murmured, voice thick with want, "you don’t have to hold back. be as loud as you want… i’m right here."

he pushes you back, pinning you against the bed with ease, his face still hovering over your pussy.  

"caleb, i…ah!"  

a sharp cry cuts off your words as his fingers sink into you, stretching you open inch by inch. the sudden fullness sends a jolt of pleasure through you, making your body arch into his touch. before you can even catch your breath, his tongue joins the mix, dragging along your folds with a slow, deliberate lick that has your thighs trembling.  

"you taste so sweet…" he groans against you, his voice dripping with hunger. "i could do this all night..all day even", he chuckles. 

your slick coats his fingers as he pumps them in and out, the pace teasingly slow, as if he’s memorizing every reaction, every little sound you make. your whimpers fuel him, a spark igniting in his chest as he watches you come undone beneath him.  

then, he curls his fingers just right-  

your back lifts off the bed, a choked moan escaping your lips as your body tenses. his smirk deepens, dark and knowing. he’s found it.  

"there it is," he murmurs, his voice dripping with satisfaction. he doesn’t waste a second. his fingers pick up speed, thrusting deeper, pressing against that same spot over and over again. every movement is deliberate, every stroke meant to unravel you. the room fills with the slick sounds of his fingers working inside you, the wet heat of his mouth still teasing your clit, and the way your moans spill out, growing louder with every calculated thrust.  

caleb hums against you, his own pleasure building just from watching you come apart. "that’s it… let me hear you."

your grip on his hand tightened, fingers trembling as your body squirmed beneath him. a desperate whimper escaped your lips.

“c-caleb… i—ah… i think i’m close,” you gasped, your voice breathless, barely above a whisper.

his response was immediate, “come for me, princess… i’m right here.”

a shiver ran down your spine as his words alone sent you teetering on the edge. your back arched, muscles tensing as pleasure coiled tight in your core. caleb didn’t stop, his touch was relentless, his tongue and fingers working in perfect sync, dragging you through wave after wave of ecstasy.

your release crashed over you, sending you spiraling. a gasp came from your throat as warm liquid flooded through you, coating his face and fingers soon part of the liquid dripped down to the bed. caleb groaned against you, savoring every moment, every sound, every taste. he pulled away only to lick his lips, eyes dark with satisfaction as his thumb traced soft circles on your inner thigh.

“that’s my good girl,” he murmured, his voice dripping with praise, a smirk tugging at his lips. even now, with your body spent and breath uneven, the hunger in his gaze told you..he wasn’t done with you yet.

he wastes no time before hovering over you, caging you beneath him. his fingers fumble slightly as he works at the buttons of your top, eager yet unsteady. one by one, they come undone, revealing more of your skin to his hungry gaze. his pupils darken, widening with sheer desperation. he had imagined this moment countless times, but nothing compared to the reality of seeing you like this.  

“you’re even more stunning than i imagined,” he breathes, voice thick with longing. the last of the buttons popped off and you help him as he gently swifts it off your shoulders, putting it to the side. there’s no hesitation in his movements as he expertly unclasps your bra with a single hand, discarding it just as quickly. 

for a moment, he simply stares, enamored, breath hitching as if he doesn’t know where to begin. but desire overtakes him, and he dips his head, capturing one of your sensitive buds between his lips. the moment his mouth latches on, he sucks greedily, the same feeling he had between your thighs now channeled into worshipping every inch of you. he makes sure to give the other breast the same attention, his fingers kneading your soft flesh while his mouth continues its worship. caleb was always the type to ensure you were taken care of, and this was no different. his touch was deliberate, yet dripping with desire.  

your whimpers slip past your lips, each sound fueling him further as he overwhelms you with sensation after sensation. his tongue flicks and rolls, alternating between slow, teasing swirls and desperate, heated sucks, never giving you a moment to recover. every movement was a silent promise. he wasn’t stopping until you were completely undone beneath him.

eventually pulling his lips away from your breasts, his breaths were ragged, heavy with restraint as his fingers made quick work of his belt. “you have no idea what you do to me,” he murmured, the sharp clink of metal echoed in the room, followed by the unmistakable sound of a zipper being dragged down. 

his hands trembled slightly, whether from excitement or the sheer need to feel you, you weren’t sure. but the moment his pants hit the floor, he wasted no time. he leaned back over you, the heat of his body radiating against your skin as he traced a hand along your thigh, his touch very  worshipping. he releases his erection from his boxers and he was big. his tip glistened with pre-cum. he guided his cock before your pussy. 

“i’ll go slow, i promise” he breathed out, using your slick to coat himself. he aligned himself with your entrance, teasing you with the tip before slowly pushing in, letting you take him inch by inch.

a groan ripped from his throat as your walls wrapped around him, his fingers digging into your hips as he tried to steady himself. his head fell forward, his breath hot against your shoulder. "fuck," he rasped, voice shaking. "you're—you're squeezing me so tight." he shakily pumps in you slowly.

"c-caleb," you whimpered, voice breaking as you tried to adjust. "you're so… big—"

his grip on you tightened, his chest rising and falling in heavy pants. "god… you feel too good," he nearly whimpered, his voice filled with desperation. his body trembled, pressing his forehead against yours as he fought for control. 

“if you keep squeezing me like that,” he murmured, his voice husky and uneven, “i don’t think i can go slow.”

you swallowed hard, your walls fluttering around him at his words. “please… don’t,” you whispered, meeting his half-lidded gaze with your own. "i want to feel all of you." you tugged at his jacket, it being the only clothing left on between the two of you. you slipped your hands beneath the fabric, pushing his jacket off his shoulders before sliding it down his arms, letting it fall carelessly to the floor along with your clothes. you guided your hands on his chest, feeling every muscle he had. you were used to seeing caleb shirtless but tonight, it was in a different light that only increased your arousal. 

once he was halfway in, his breathing started to become heavy as he studied your face for any sign of discomfort. “alright..” he hums, his thumb stroked gentle circles on your hip. “but tell me if it’s too much,” he whispered.

your nails dug into his shoulders, your body desperate for more despite the slow burn. “keep going,” you urged, your voice breathless and cheeks flushed.

caleb let out a shuddered exhale before pushing deeper, groaning as he finally bottomed out inside you. he buried his face in the crook of your neck, overwhelmed by the warmth embracing him so perfectly. his body trembled to move at a pace that wouldn’t break you, despite the way your walls clenched around him. 

your moans became louder as caleb continues to fill you, his hair becoming a bird's nest under your fingers. “c-caleb..more” you bit your lip, scratch marks forming on his back the more you cling onto him. “hhhg…i need more” you pleaded. a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips before he captured your mouth in a searing kiss, his restraint finally snapping as he began to move in a quicker pace, rocking into you with deep, measured thrusts that left you gasping.

caleb groaned against your lips before pulling away, his hands gripping your thighs as he adjusted his position, sliding his hands under your legs before lifting them onto his shoulders. the shift made you gasp, the deeper angle sending a shiver through your entire body. the perfect angle he knows to get you into a mess. he leaned forward, pressing your knees closer to your chest, trapping you beneath him. 

"c-caleb—" you choked out as he pushed back in, deeper than before, the sensation overwhelming his grip on your thighs tightened as he adjusted, his thrusts being so deep, hitting that sensitive spot inside you with precision. every roll of his hips that kissed your g-spot sent sparks of pleasure shooting through your body, your moans growing louder with each push and pull. 

caleb’s breathing was ragged, his control unraveling as he watched you writhe beneath him. "look at you," he murmured, his voice dripping with admiration. "so beautiful like this..so perfect for me." he places a kiss on your calf. 

you reached for him, hands on his chest to gesture him to slow down. something was building up in your core. sounds of skin slapping filled the room. "i’m-..so cl..close caleb.." 

"i know," he cut in, voice strained as he instead quickened his pace, wanting your release to fall through for him and by him. "give it to me... please let me feel you.." 

with a final, deep thrust, he angled himself just right, sending you over the edge with a cry, your body tightening around him as a warm liquid gushed out of you. the liquid coated on caleb’s cock and inner thighs. witnessing this, caleb groaned loudly, his hips stuttering as he came completely undone by the way you pulsed around him. his movements grew more erratic as he felt your walls clamp down around him. the grip on your thighs tightened, as he tried to hold himself together.

"good girl.." he panted, his mind still onto the sounds and the expressions of you coming undone before him. he continued thrusting, now chasing his high. after a while, caleb announces “i’m ugg.. gonna..” his body comes to a stop as he releases his seed inside of you, coating your walls.

the world around you both seemed to have stopped, nothing but the feeling of him filled your mind. caleb's weight sank into you as he rested his forehead on your shoulder, trying to catch his breath.

a small smile curled at your lips as you traced your fingers through his damp hair, feeling his body twitch slightly against yours. "that was…" you trailed off, still breathless, your mind hazy from the intensity of it all.

caleb let out a weak chuckle, pressing a soft kiss against your collarbone before pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. his purple-pinkish eyes, still heavy with satisfaction, softened as he took you in. "yeah," he murmured, brushing his knuckles along your cheek. "it was."

he slowly pulled out of you, making sure to be gentle as he settled beside you, pulling you into his arms without hesitation. his hands roamed over your bare skin, his eyes full of adoration. caleb reached for the blanket, pulling it over you both, carefully covering you up as if protecting the moment, his moment. he held you close, his breathing still getting adjusted for his body to fit around yours. 

you cleared your throat, lifting your head to face him.

“hey,” you started softly, your voice a little unsure. “earlier… when i said i felt like i was behind, that I hadn’t had any of those firsts… i still feel that way sometimes. even now.”

caleb’s gaze softened, and he shifted, lifting his head to look down at you. his hand gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin in a quiet gesture. “you’re not behind, pipsqueak,” he murmured, tender now. “everyone’s timeline is different. and whatever you haven’t experienced yet? i’m not going anywhere. i’ll be right here, whenever you’re ready for all of it.”

a smile tugged at your lips, his words comforting you. “i know. i guess i just needed to hear that.”

caleb’s smile was soft, his eyes full of warmth. he pulled you closer, holding you a little tighter. “it’s not about what everyone else does or what they think. it’s about what feels right for you. don’t ever feel like you’re missing out, because with me… you’ll always have all the time you need.”

you let out a contented sigh, your hand resting on his chest. “thanks caleb,” you whispered. “i’m glad i have you here.”

he kissed the top of your head, his voice with reassurance. “i’ll always be here, pipsqueak.” you begun to doze off, leaving the memory of the night you and caleb in your head. he was right, this is all you’ll ever think about. “goodnight, pipsqueak,” caleb whispered softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. you didn’t have the energy to respond, the last of your thoughts dissolving into peaceful sleep.

caleb smiled down at you, his heart swelling with affection. his hand came up to brush a stray lock of hair from your face, his gaze lingering on you with a tenderness that he had always felt for you before. you looked so peaceful, so content, and he could hardly believe you were in his arms, trusting and letting him help with one of your doubts could easily fill him for the rest of his life.

he watched you for a while, tracing the outline of your face with his eyes as you slept, aware of the way his heart beat faster with each passing second. with each second having him fall more and more in love with you. caleb smirked to himself, imagining the questions that would come once gideon finds you sleeping in caleb’s bed. he let out a contented sigh, looking down at your sleeping form. “let him ask. i won’t let out a peep” he muttered.

not that gideon would believe any excuse, anyway. caleb could say you had a nightmare, that you tripped and conveniently landed in his bed, or that aliens abducted every other available sleeping surface but gideon would just wag his eyebrows and call it bluffing.

whatever. let him talk. let him annoy the hell out of him. caleb didn’t care.

all that mattered was the pretty girl curled up in his arms, fast asleep because for the first time in a long time, caleb was exactly where he wanted to be. and nothing else mattered.

[ssahotchnerr]

omg Katie i was rewatching s7 (as one does) and ohhhh my gosh I forgot how delicious and gorgeous beard!Hotch is😔😔 he’s just soo!!

I can’t stop thinking about maybe the beard making a comeback while on vacation or something, him being all domestic with that beard — and it’s just such a change from his usual suit and tie lawyer important job vibe😔 sorry just thought to share and wanted to know what you think of him <3333

while on vacation

i just couldn't not write a fic about this 🤭 bearded aaron my beloved cw; fem!reader, established relationship, jack calls reader mom, domestic fluff with a hint of spice❤️‍🔥, light suggestion <3 wc; 1.2k

"Don't scrunch up your face so much," you laughed gently, applying sunscreen thoroughly across Jack's face. Whether it was his forehead, the bridge of his nose, or his cheeks, he either attempted to move out of the way or scowled further in protest.

"But I don't like it," Jack complained. "It's cold and smells funny."

"I know you don't bud, but the last thing you want is to get sunburnt," you told him, your eyes sympathetic. "The sun here is a lot more harsh compared to how it is at home. I'd hate for you to be miserable, and not have as much fun because of it."

"I guess. It stings my eyes sometimes too."

"Just try your hardest not to touch your face, and you should be okay," you reassured him, snapping the sunscreen shut and pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "Plus, I don't think you want your father's lecture on the importance of SPF."

Speaking of - "Aaron?" you called out. "Are you almost ready?"

"Yeah..." You heard him sigh from the bathroom, the faint sound of him searching through his toiletry bag audible. "I forgot to pack my razor."

You grabbed Jack's hat and placed it atop his head, angling it more downwards to playfully cover his eyes. You got to your feet, meeting Aaron in the bathroom. "You? Forgot to pack something? What happened to the spreadsheet?"

"I don't make spreadsheets for everything," Aaron laughed at your teasing, an inquisitive expression soon taking form on his face. "Do you think the hotel carries razors?"

"I don't see why they wouldn't."

"Or we'll just have to stop at a store later," he shook his head, giving up his search and zipping up his bag.

"Or we could just... not," you suggested, pushing yourself off the doorframe and running your hands under water quickly. Once clean of any lingering sunscreen remnants, you gripped onto Aaron's polo, your hands soon roaming his torso.

An amused grin formed on his face, "Oh?"

"We're on vacation. That means getting out of routine, taking it easy, not shaving." You shrugged, continuing your flirtatious touch by toying with the collar of his shirt. "So what if a light beard makes an appearance. It wouldn't be the end of the world."

"And that's the only reason, right?" Aaron inquired as a mischievous smile tugged at the corners of his lips, his eyes gleaming with a playful understanding. "That we're on vacation?"

You weren't slick, and he knew it. However, your request did surprise him - you've only seen him with a beard once when he returned home from Pakistan, short lived as Jack despised it. But you hadn't mentioned it since.

You widened your eyes, feigning innocence, "I can't imagine there being another reason."

He lowered his voice, leaning in close. "Just say it turns you on sweetheart, it's alright."

Surprised at his sudden forwardness you immediately blushed, but he also wasn't wrong. However, before you had the chance to respond -

"Mom, Dad, you coming?" Jack asked, waiting patiently at the door with his beach towel in hand.

"Yeah, we're coming." Aaron clicked off the light, his hand finding your lower back. As he guided you out of the bathroom, it wandered further down, causing you to playfully push it away with a giggle before any young eyes could see. "Did Mom put sunscreen on you?"

He got a groan in response.

Over the course of the next few days, Aaron obliged, heeding your wishes and not shaving. It was mere stubble for a day or two, which was still a sight to see. But towards the end of the week, the beard was coming in wonderfully.

With his dark hair, slightly tousled from the laid-backness of the week's pace, the beard also complemented the sharpness of his features. It brought out the color of his eyes, enhancing their deep, intense color. His jawline, which could make you go weak in the knees any day, was more defined, a perfect contrast to the soft yet rugged texture of his beard.

Add in his sunglasses, the sweaty t-shirt clinging to his body at times due to the heat, and his developing tan, you were absolutely swooning. It was nearly impossible to tear your gaze away from him.

Even the smallest of things were driving you wild. Aaron simply placed breakfast in front of Jack one morning; face adorned by his beard, conversing with his son naturally, the domesticity had you fluttering in all ways. You found yourself wishing you had the same request on your honeymoon.

In addition, the slow vacation mornings also allowed you the time to admire Aaron before he awoke, peaceful and content in sleep. For the first time in a while too, he looked well rested.

Jack had been worn out and sleeping in also, due to the sun exposure and the long-yet-fun days catching up to him. It thankfully granted you and Aaron some much appreciated time to spend alone together.

"Good morning," you mumbled softly when Aaron's eyes found yours, reaching up slightly to press a kiss to his lips, his jaw, neck, anywhere you could reach. You continued to litter him with kisses, before full-on straddling him.

Aaron chuckled, his hands landing on your hips. His voice was still rough with sleep, peering up at you with his sleep-heavy eyelids. "I'd say it is."

You laughed softly against his skin, pulling his t-shirt collar down, giving you access to kiss his chest.

"What do I need to do to get a wakeup call like this every day?"

After pressing one more kiss to his collarbone, you sat up, remaining on top of him. "I can't believe it's our last full day," you whined as a dull filled you; back to the city, back to normalcy, back to clean-shaven Aaron.

He hummed in agreement, his finger tracing the tan line from your bikini bottoms, visible above the waistline of your pj shorts. "It did go by fast, didn't it?"

You nodded, your shoulders slumping as your bottom lip protruded in a pout.

"Are you mourning the end of our time off, or the fact that the beard will be leaving," Aaron questioned, an admirable glint in his eyes. Again, he looked thoroughly relaxed laid against his pillow, his hair sticking out in all directions as he gazed at you.

"Both," you sighed, cupping his jaw and letting your thumb graze his stubble. "Don't get me wrong, I adore seeing your clean and attractive face. But I am going to miss this."

"I'll tell you what, I'll keep it a few more days. To allow you to enjoy it thoroughly, in the privacy of our bedroom." He sat up, positioning you on his lap and easily bringing his lips to yours. With Jack so close, the two of you hadn't been very adventurous in fear of being caught. "And maybe it'll make an appearance more often. Since you like it so much." He mumbled lowly amidst the fierce kiss, a light smirk tugging at the ends of his mouth.

You pulled back briefly, a finger pressed to his chest. "Is that a promise?"

"Definitely."

[drdemonprince]

A little positivity for your inbox :). I'm a queer, autistic generally gender-fucked individual and I wanted to share how much your posts ab building community and putting yourself out there have helped me. I moved to Chicago 9 months ago and felt like the most miserable version of myself. I had like 1 friend and felt too socially inept to pursue any other connections. My anxiety had me locked in a state of inaction. Seeing you post about the merit of just GOING to things, just putting yourself in spaces helped me feel like that was something I could do too? And so I did. I would go events (with my 1 friend) I never really knew what to do with myself I would just kind of...be there. And for a while it was really uncomfortable and I would freak out afterwards. Like every time. But it felt good to be doing SOMETHING to improve that part of my life. It was one of those things that sucked until it didn't I guess. Cut to present day and I'm a version of myself that I didn't know I could be? I go to parties where I know almost no one and I talk to people even when I'm a little scared to approach them. I have so much confidence?? I have to acknowledge that this was more attainable for me than some because I'm an autist who's able to mask. Even still, I was able to find people like me who I can unmask around by venturing out a little. It is possible. My friendship circle has grown into this beautiful collection of neurodivergent weirdo freaks who I never would have known had I kept to myself day in and day out like I wanted to. I'm also not someone whose body meets most standards of desirability, it made it harder but not impossible. Anyways, thanks for being loud and obstinate and also hopeful! You make people's lives better by doing these things. I hope you have a wonderful weekend and enjoy the little bit of sunshine being thrown our way ♥️♥️♥️

Yay thank you. I most want to share this ask so that other people can see it and think about whether your experience could be relevant to their own lives. A WHOLE lot can happen just from showing up to things a bunch of times, getting a little *less* uncomfortable being there (even if you always feel kinda uncomfortable forever, i still do!), participating in what you can, becoming a familiar face, talking to people, and seeing who you vibe with. that's the work. that's everything. and you can do it being shy/anxious/awkward/having highly particular needs/being visibly othered/etc. It's HARD and not everyone is gonna be your people but it is possible. It's a lot of work but it's worth it.

[bm571158]

Free Now LN4 (Part 38)

"Well?!" Flo demanded the second Lando answered the phone. "How did it go?"

"How did what go?" He asked.

"Don't play dumb with me, how did it go with Lottie?"

"How did you know I was there?" He asked, confused.

"Well, mum said you were coming over to go to McLaren so I took a guess, and now you've just told me that you were there. So come on, tell me!" Flo demanded.

"Lottie didn't call you?" He asked.

"No." Flo told him. "I was going to call her, but you're my brother and it's way easier to interrogate you. Now, tell me."

The way Lando sighed into the phone was enough of an answer for Flo to know that it hadn't gone the way that he had expected it to. "Oh...." She mumbled.

"She uh... she's better, she's happy." He sighed, as if that somehow made what he was feeling less painful. He supposed in a way it did. Seeing her happy, knowing that she had the chance to get back to doing what she loved and finally something to look forward to was great, but it hadn't made it any easier walking back out of her house and getting in his car to drive away.

"I'm sorry, Lando." Flo said quietly. "I never should've suggested you go there, I really thought that she'd change her mind and it would all be fine... shit.... Are you alright?"

"No." He admitted. "But I'm about five minutes away from MTC so I haven't really got time to worry about it right now I guess."

"Why don't you come here tonight, rather than going back to Monaco?" Flo suggested. She hated the idea that he was going to fly back to Monaco to sit alone in that apartment and be miserable on his own.

"It's alright." He reassured her. "I need to get back. I've got stuff I need to sort before Zandvoort. I'll be okay it's just... well, it sucks."

"I'm so sorry Lando, I really thought all she needed was to see you again and she'd realise that she's being stupid. What did she say?"

"It's fine Flo, really." Lando brushed her off, he didn't want to get into the details of what had been said with his sister. "I need to go now, I'm at MTC and I'm already running late." It was a lie, he was actually early and still fifteen minutes away but he just wanted to get out of the conversation.

"Okay, call me later?" Flo suggested. "And if you change your mind and want to come and stay then the offer is still open, okay?"

"Okay." He agreed quietly, ending the call. He had no intention of going to Flo's no matter how many times she suggested it. He just wanted to be on his own where he could think and digest what Lottie had said to him.

He was still sat in his car staring into space thinking about it when Oscar had arrived at MTC, tapping on the car window and making Lando jump.

"You alright mate?" Oscar asked him as he scrambled out of the car, realising he'd now only got a couple of minutes before he was supposed to be somewhere. "You looked like you were miles away."

"I uh... yeah. I've got a lot on my mind I guess." Lando mumbled, shutting the car door behind him.

"I know it's none of my business..." Oscar said hesitantly, and Lando looked up at him in surprise. His teammate was quiet, never stuck his nose into anyone else's business, he always had been. "But you and Lottie... there's so many rumours going around online and I haven't seen her for a few races now. Is everything okay?"

Lando hesitated, halfway tempted to just lie to Oscar and tell him it was all fine. He knew Oscar wouldn't believe him, but he was probably too polite to call him out on it and it might put an end to the conversation. Lando knew what Oscar was referring to, the second he'd shown up in Spain without Lottie beside him the rumour mill had well and truly started turning.

"You shouldn't believe what you see on the internet." Lando muttered. If you believed what the gossip sites and TikTok were saying he'd cheated on Lottie, she'd cheated on him, he'd proposed and she'd said no... the variations on the story were endless. Not a single one of them was correct, but obviously the people on the internet weren't worried about how factual it was, it was great reading.

"I don't." Oscar shrugged. "But there's no smoke without fire usually, and you're not telling me nothings going on."

"It's... it's complicated." Lando sighed. "But yeah, we're... we're not together anymore."

"I'm sorry mate." Oscar gave him a sympathetic smile, patting him on the shoulder. "That's rough."

"Ironically, a lot of the problem was all these gossip sites and people with cameras who are now having a great time speculating about what happened." Lando commented dryly.

"Ah.." Oscar gave him a knowing look, after all they'd all been there. "I really am sorry, she seemed like such a nice girl."

"Yeah." Lando sighed. "Me too."

Thankfully, Oscar seemed to have decided that his one brief venture into Lando's personal life was more than enough for the for a lifetime and hadn't brought it up again. Instead he'd gone a little over the top doing everything he could to keep the conversation away from that particular topic, changing the topic of conversation not so subtly any time anyone came remotely close to mentioning it and Lando had never been more grateful.

He'd said goodbye to Oscar and the team as quickly as he could at the end of the day, heading back to the airport to go back to Monaco, but not without checking his phone one more time on the off chance that Lottie might have called him. She hadn't, of course, she'd been very clear with him when he'd left hers that he shouldn't hang around waiting for her to call, but the hope that she might was definitely still there.

It wasn't until he was back in his apartment in Monaco, haphazardly shoving the clothes he needed to take to Zandvoort with him into a suitcase, that he really started to digest what she'd said to him.

None of it was anything that he could even try and argue with, and it was clear that she'd put as much thought into whether or not she could be with him as he had put into trying to persuade her to come back. It wasn't some impulsive decision that she had made as a result of what had happened in Monaco, it was clearly something that had been bubbling away underneath the surface for quite a while and that had just been the final straw.

He couldn't say he blamed her either, for not wanting to live her life in the media spotlight. He hated it too, missed the days of being able to go out and have fun without worrying about people recording him and it ending up on the internet. He didn't have a choice, just had to accept it and get on with it, but Lottie did have a choice. She could get away from it... it just meant that she had to get away from him.

So as much as it broke his heart and he wanted to plead with her to change her mind, he understood her reasoning. It just didn't make it any easier to accept.

He was still mulling it over in his mind as he arrived in Zandvoort. It wasn't his favourite race, the win there last year and his decision to throw out a 'simply lovely' in the heat of the moment after the race had been the beginning of a level of hatred on the internet that had been like nothing he'd ever experienced before. The seemingly innocuous comment that had slipped out of his mouth in the heat of the moment being taken as something it wasn't.

He'd had to delete all his social media off his phone for weeks after that race. The comments and posts were so vile that he hadn't been able to bring himself to even pretend he wasn't bothered. He'd gone back home to his parents to spend some time with them in the hope that might offer a distraction, anything to stop him from thinking about what people were saying.

As he walked back into the paddock in Zandvoort, a year later, the same uneasy feeling settled over him. It was Max's home race, of course everyone was rooting for him to win. It made sense that if hadn't been popular with the home crowd that Lando had won, it made sense that they'd started booing him as he went past on the track this year.

It all made sense, and yet he couldn't quell the horrible feeling of anxiety that came with it.

The pressure was on for this weekend. He had the lead in the championship but a reasonable, but not comfortable, margin. It was effectively his to lose now, and that was a terrifying prospect. Then there was the pressure of returning to a track that he'd absolutely dominated at the previous year, winning by a huge margin, and people were going to expect the same this year. He could hear them now if he didn't win, saying that last year had just been a fluke- luck not talent they'd say.

He'd worked himself up into such a frenzy about it that he was pacing up and down in his drivers room ahead of his media commitments, unable to sit still with all the nervous energy coursing through his body. If he had time he probably would've gone for a run around the track, he needed some kind of distraction and way to clear his head.

The interviews went along the lines he was expecting, and he repeated the answers that he'd become very well rehearsed in giving when it came to the inevitable questions about the championship and his rivalry with Max. They were the diplomatic answers that had been very carefully though out by the McLaren PR team, the ones that had been recycled so often by this point he knew them by heart. He wasn't even sure why journalists kept asking the question really. Had they not figured out that they only ever got the same answer from him?

He'd muddled his way through, tripping over his words a few times when someone had asked him a slightly more unexpected question, but he'd recovered quickly enough that hopefully no one would think anything of it. Certainly no one from the team had said anything. Then before he knew it, the day was over and he was in the car on the way back to the hotel, ready to spend another night alone with his thoughts and absolutely no distractions.

Lottie meanwhile, had been watching the tv coverage as she always did. While no one at the track may have picked up on his rather erratic mood, she spotted within the first two minutes of the interview she was watching that something was wrong. That frown line on his forehead was back, the way he was fidgeting around in front of the camera completely unable to stand still, the way his fingers kept finding their way to his neck to fiddle with his necklace and the way he kept adjusting his cap on his head every time he spoke... it was nothing like the calm and collected interviews she'd watched him give as of late. She just couldn't put her finger on why.

She'd dialled his number before her brain really had the chance to catch up with her actions, and in the split second of indecision that she'd had about whether or not she should quickly hang up he'd then answered and taken away her opportunity to back out. She wasn't sure if their new found agreement to be friends really extended to her calling him up like this to check in on him, but she supposed she was about to find out.

"Lottie?" He sounded puzzled as he answered. "What are you doing? Is everything okay? Are you okay?"

"I was actually calling to ask you that." She told him sheepishly. "Sorry, I shouldn't have called. I don't know what I was thinking really, I just..."

"You just what?" He asked.

"I was just watching your interview on tv and you looked like you could use someone to talk to." She said softly. "Are you okay?"

"Was the interview that bad?" He groaned. "No one here said anything."

"No, it wasn't." Lottie reassured him. "But I know you well enough to know when something is wrong, so tell me."

"It'll be okay, I'm just a bit nervous. It's Max's home crowd, they're never that pleased when someone else does well... I think I just feel a bit funny after all that last year." He mumbled. "It'll be fine, I'll be fine."

"I think the first step would be for you to stop pacing up and down the hotel room." She suggested.

He stopped mid step, looking around in confusion. "How did you..."

"I can't see you." She laughed, because she could just picture the confused look on his face as he tried to work out how she knew. "But I know you well enough to know exactly what you do when you're stressed. I'm not wrong, am I?"

"No." He admitted. "You're not."

"So, stop pacing. Go and take a nice warm shower, order yourself some dinner. Play something online with Max for a bit and then get some sleep. You'll be absolutely fine tomorrow, I know you will. I'll be cheering for you, even if some of the crowd aren't."

"Thank you." He whispered. "I've really missed your pep talks. I wish you were here. It was all so much better when you were here."

"Lando." She sighed into the phone. "Come on, let's not do this again. Especially not when you've got a race to think about."

"I know, I know." He agreed unhappily. "I just miss you. Being friends is great, but it at the same time it's really, really shit."

"I'm sorry Lando. It's the best I can do at the moment." She told him quietly. "I miss you too, but I need to do what's right for me. I'm always here though, if you need me. You can call me and I'll talk some sense into you any time."

"Maybe you could come to Abu Dhabi with Flo?" He suggested. "It'll be the end of the season. You can talk some sense into me in person then."

"You'll be world champion by then, you won't need me to talk some sense into you." She reassured him.

"Please?" He asked again. "It would be so good to have you there." Abu Dhabi was an age away, but it would give him something to look forward to at least.

"Let's see how things go." Lottie suggests, not wanting to commit but also not wanting to upset him by saying no. "I've got to go now, but you'll be fine tomorrow. I promise. Good luck, Lando."

She'd been right of course, she always was. She'd watched on with fond smile at the tv screen as he'd come home to win the race on Sunday. Not quite by the same landslide margin that he had done the year before, but a win was a win worthless. She quickly fired off a message to him to congratulate him and tell him to enjoy the celebrations.

She stared at the tv screen with a wistful smile as she watched him take to the podium, the proud look on his face as the anthem was played. She tried again to remind herself that she was doing the right thing, for both of them, but as she watched on all she could really think about was how much she wished she was there with him.

The problem was, it came and went in waves. One minute she was convincing herself that she was wrong, that she was denying herself a chance at happiness with someone she really, truly loved because she'd let the opinion of a load of strangers on the internet get in her head. The next minute though she would remember how it had made her feel watching her life and appearance get torn to shreds on the internet for other people's entertainment. She would remember what it felt like to not be able to walk down the street without having a dozen cameras pointed at her, the suffocating feeling of not ever being able to go anywhere and just relax.

It was a coin toss- the two things she so desperately wanted seemingly impossible to have at the same time. She could be with the man that she loved, or she could have her privacy and live her life away from the media to  keep her sanity in tact. The two seemed to be mutually exclusive, no matter how hard she had tried to look for a middle ground. So no, as much as she wanted to be there and be the one that he came running to when he got off that podium and was ready to celebrate, she couldn't be that person for him, as much as she wished that she was.

[tioraidh-tux]

yeagerists are really funny to me because they seem to completely ignore what isayama obviously intended to say. that's not to say isayama got that message across as well as he could have, but the anime was obviously where isayama wanted to make up for that. so i mean, outside eren...

it's made clear time and time again that genocide will not solve war as an issue, which is what attack on titan is really about after the marley reveal.

attack on titan isn't written to provide safe alternatives, because we still can't even figure that out today - but it's telling you what leads to genocide and why it isn't an answer.

we follow the scout regiment because they stand against ignorance. their victories are rare, and yet they're the only reason humanity within the walls progresses - because they do not choose easy battles, they choose to ask hard questions and answer them.

yet the cycle is perpetuated by ignorance - willing and unwilling. it's the greatest evil in attack on titan and the only reason eldians are so hated, and why paradis treats the rest of the world with the same contempt and supremacy.

it's why eren is an idiot. he's only honest about this with people who won't argue, he doesn't choose to debate, he doesn't choose to discuss - he chooses to follow and give up - he never seeks a greater understanding because "i have to kill my enemies" is an easy answer to an unfair problem, and one that doesn't cover all bases.

genocide does not answer for paradisans who don't agree with this solution, which just means tearing the island apart in the aftermath. it harms the people it wants to protect, and ultimately it sacrifices a majority for minority.

that's against everything the scouts stand for, they serve humanity, not paradis.

so again, the scouts, under hange's command, choose to try diplomacy. because it's a perspective that needs to be entertained when it could have the greatest benefit for everyone. it's a difficult and naive answer to their circumstances and does not guarantee paradis' safety. yet we'll never see how well it could have answered that problem because eren chose ignorance in another sense - he chose to attack because that didn't challenge anything paradis had done before - when eradicating titans was the ultimate goal of humanity.

aside from that, trampling the world shows erens ignorance as a paradisan. they probably didn't fully understand the ecosystems (granted, we didn't even explore it fully at this time period) outwith the walls and what balance they provide to the world. and even as they may have been learning, i really doubt eren took any interest. so not only did he kill 80% of humanity, he's eliminated so much of the world's nature and species. he hasn't just killed most of humanity, he's left the world with no biodiversity.

ultimately, if he did succeed in a full rumbling (paradis excluded) he would have doomed the island anyway. the climate is probably fucked and one island worth of habitable and fertile land would probably leave paradis miserable and war torn anyway, if they even last that long. this is essentially like nuking the entire planet.

in conclusion, yeagerists lack critical thinking and media literacy skills. eren is either stupid (true) or incredibly selfish (also true) and there is no world in which what he does is morally justified, which is the point (war = bad, racism = bad, nuclear weapons = bad).

sorry for ranting under your post.

The alliance betrayed Eren. The whole world wanted Paradis killed and all Eren did was fight back. What else should he have done? It was genocide vs genocide. His friends are hypocrites and horrible characters that wanted to play moral police. Hanji and Levi were horrible mentors. Open your eyes.

If you genuinely believe any of the garbage that you just spewed, then you need mental help.

I shouldn't even take the time to point out to you what's wrong with your "argument", because honestly, anyone this stupid and lacking in self-awareness isn't worth mine or anybody's time.

But I'll just lay out a few, basic facts for your edification.

Eren betrayed his comrades, over and over, starting with his literal incitement of war in Liberio, through his purposeful elimination of any other course of action that Paradis could have taken to secure their future. War only came to Paradis in the first place, you total clown, because Eren and Zeke orchestrated it themselves. I don't know how many times this has to be pointed out to people like you before it gets through that sediment-thick rock you call a skull and into the mush you call a brain. Go read the manga again, or watch the anime, and maybe try paying attention this time past the masturbation session you engage in every time Eren comes on screen.

The Survey Corps' entire mission statement was to dedicate themselves to the salvation of humanity. Not "Paradis", humanity. And Eren betrayed that mission in the most fundamental way possible by committing mass genocide on a global scale. He literally spit on the legacy and sacrifices of every single one of his comrades, including those who had given their lives to protect his, because they believed he was essential to humanity's survival. Instead of honoring that sacrifice by doing everything in his power to save humanity, he did the exact opposite by deciding to wipe humanity out of existence because he was disappointed the world didn't look like the pictures in Armin's books. That's how shallow, pathetic, selfish and childish Eren is.

You call Levi and Hange "terrible mentors", when Eren literally did exactly the opposite of what they both tried to teach him. Levi specifically told Eren to make the choice he could live with, the one he wouldn't regret, and yet, in the end, we see Eren filled with nothing but regret, drowning in self-loathing, because he knows he made the choice which went against what he knew in his heart was right. He spurned Levi's guidance entirely. Eren knew what he did was wrong and not justifiable on any level. What Eren did didn't sit right in any way, shape or form with his own, moral understanding of the world. Nobody made Eren into what he was. Nobody made Eren do what he did. It was a situation entirely of his own making and choosing.

You call the other members of the alliance "horrible characters" because they couldn't and wouldn't stand by and allow literally billions of innocent people to be murdered in cold blood. Remind me to pray to God that no important decisions are ever left to you. The lack of self-awareness in your statement is shocking in its depth. You don't see how, if this is what you truly believe and support, that it's you who's the truly terrible and horrible person here. Frankly, you're a disgusting example of a human being.

By stopping Eren, Levi, Hange and the rest of the alliance were upholding everything the Survey Corps originally stood and fought for. You calling them traitors and hypocrites is repulsive in its stupidity.

And that's all I'll say on the matter. You can now go back to waiting in line with Floch to swallow Eren's cock, since that's clearly what you really want to spend your time doing. Try not to choke.

[eloquentsisyphianturmoil]

Maedhros built up a high pain resistance from Angband; particularly to the burning sensation. Considering how low he thinks of himself, it’s likely he expected the Silmaril to burn him. He didn’t think he was redemptive, he thought I can take it.

Part of why Maedhros acts so viciously is because that’s how life treated him. I can take it if my brothers die. I can take it if I’m damned for eternity. I can take it if everybody thinks I’m a monster.

He’s proud, and he’s suffering. He won’t back down, he will succeed or be martyred.

[beforecreation]

Her words trigger a laugh from him as he stopped in his tracks. Was this a warning? Words of advice? Clearly, despite being proclaimed as unusual by the queen and a member of the cult, it made no difference in the eyes of this servant. Her submissiveness was undercut by her gentle attempt to persuade him into falling in line. Simply accepting the direction things were going? Clearly, he would've never clawed his way to godhood if he simply accepted the world around him. His grin grows wider as he stares into the servant's eyes, bright ashen eyes contrasting with her sullen expression.

She chose to submit, likely for fear of her life. He'd rather die than to be reduced to her state. Perhaps he could offer her a mercy, along with all those left in servitude to Regulus. Then again, it would seem just about all that were here had chosen to live being shackled, then to die free. This would have to be a decision at a later time, once he had a better and more concrete plan put in motion.

For now, he would simply take a step towards the servant, and open his mouth to speak once more.

"Tell me, did she omit every detail about me when she gave you her ? Reduced me down to being nothing but her next trophy? First her perversion towards me, and now this objectification? I'm so deeply wounded!"

There was nothing to gain by purposely misconstruing what was being said, if other than his own personal entertainment. This place had reeked of an obsessiveness of control, everything had to be just right for the almighty ruler of this supposed paradise. While Beerus was far from one who had any right to dictate how to treat others, the manner of how she treated her subjects was so.... dull. By at least having the freedom to say what he wished, it was a method of ensuring there was something keeping him from getting bored. Besides, it seemed to get under Regulus's skin, a thought that brought him such petty pleasure.

However, what hadn't brought him pleasure was being trapped, and treated as a treasure to be added to her collection. All the while others watched and whispered to themselves, knowing that they could not hope to do anything, lest they incur their leader's wrath.

That was just it. They were nothing more than loyal little pawns in her goals. Beings who were too afraid or too miserable to ever think of defying her. The god of destruction may have preferred a type of proper etiquette when being interacted with, but he would be doing nothing but lying to himself if he said he preferred things to stay calm and orderly at all times. After all, as a personification of destruction, tranquility was hardly his style.

"Your words are under consideration. But not to worry, I shan't cause you any trouble, just as I trust you won't be an obstacle for me."

If she truly was nothing more than a sitter for him, then there was no worry as to her actions. No attempting to obstruct his progress or attempting to chew on him as if he were a piece of meat. From all looks of it, she was a human, roped into a hopeless situation. Good, he didn't need to run into any more cult members at the moment, for one was more than enough for him.

Clasping his hands together, he would take a moment to ease his expression a bit, his eyes scanning the hallways as he turned away from the servant temporarily, before focusing on her once more. If she was to serve, he might as well truly make the best of any opportunity he could get.

"Now then, while the queen tends to her flowers, perhaps you may guide me to her room? I'd love to see how my... beloved queen keeps her quarters, the very thought makes my heart simply flutter."

The young woman looked up at him with a flicker of surprise in her eyes, which she quickly masked with a calm and collected demeanor. She knew the Queen's whereabouts, as she had been with her moments before receiving her new orders, but she had her commands, and she needed to follow through with them as well, there was no other way, she lived to serve.

"Her Royal Highness is currently in the royal garden, tending to the roses." She said, keeping her voice low and respectful. "She does so enjoy the beauty and scent of her favorite flowers as she will handpick them all for your wedding."

As she would stay close to him and keep her head down, eyes on the ground and not daring to look anywhere near him unless, she has been given permission to do such a thing.

"As for the cult, they are scattered throughout the palace, my lord, carrying out their respective duties. Some are in the council chamber, others in the dining hall preparing for tonight's feast." she replied, her eyes never leaving the ground. “They all understand the importance of your wedding and what it means.”

Her new orders were simple, yet their implications were complex. Attend to him and watch him, ensure that he does not stray from the path laid before him. The Queen had made it clear that she had plans for him, and she would not tolerate any deviation from the script. This enigmatic creature before her was the linchpin of those plans, and she could not afford to fail.

The young woman knew the price of failure in the Queen's service. She had seen others crumble under the weight of their own mistakes, their lives extinguished with the flick of a wrist. The cult was unforgiving, and the Queen's wrath was legendary. She had survived by being invisible, by being a silent observer in the grand dance of power.

But now, she had been given a task that was impossible to fail at and still survive. Watch him, but do not engage. Serve him, but do not get attached. It was a dance of shadows she had performed many times before, but never had the stakes been so high. She felt the cold steel of fate's blade hanging over her neck with every step she took beside him.

He, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying the game, a smug grin playing at the corners of his lips as he took in her obedience. She knew he was biding his time, as the queen was waiting for a misstep, a moment of vulnerability that she could exploit. 

They continued their stroll through the castle, the air thick with tension. The young woman's eyes darted around the corridors, searching for any sign of trouble, any indication that her orders might change. Her mind raced, trying to predict the Queen's next move, but she found no answers. All she knew was that she could not, would not, fail. Not again.

“Sometimes, we do not get what we want in life, sometimes, fighting is the wrong thing my lord, especially when you cannot win.”

[sysig]

Let me chew you out a little, since we have a couple minutes (Patreon)

[Panel 1] Prismo: *mumble* *mumble*

[Panel 2] Prismo: *mumble*

[Panel 3] Simon: Hmph. “Just because it’s in your head-”

[Panel 4] Simon: “-Doesn’t mean it’s yours,” huh?

[Panel 5] Simon: Give me all the responsibility with none of the privileges?

[Panel 6] Simon: And then you get mad at me for trying to pick up your slack? Prismo: Hey...

[Panel 7] Simon: Clearly you already expect that much from me!

[Panel 8] Prismo: Hey, hey! I did the best with what I had! I didn’t expect any of this!

[Panel 9] Simon: And yet you didn’t even consider telling me, so we could’ve avoided this?

[Panel 10] Prismo: It’s not like I could’ve just- taken it out! I was locked out!

[Panel 11] Simon: You could’ve done something!

[Panel 12] Simon: Instead you let my life spiral around this thing, kept me tethered to Ice King’s Madness-

[Panel 13] Prismo: Fionna and Cake are real thou- Simon: NOW you tell me! After I find out for myself!

[gxlden-angels]

Hello! I apologize if this is a nosy question, but what is the silly feelings wheel app you were talking about in a previous post? My therapist and I have been working on identifying feelings but I still very much rely on a list of feeling words to have any idea what I’m feeling, so it could be a helpful resource. No worries if you don’t want to share, just thought I would ask :)

It's called How We Feel! I'm not sure if it's available on all devices yet, but it's on ios and the google play store for sure.

I've been using it for about a year. It's more of a chart than a wheel but people usually recognize the wheel better so that's what I call it. When you first start it has a 10-part tutorial about emotional acceptance and regulation, then it has suggestions for each category of emotion. You can access both at any time tho after those first 10 days.

It has a share option so you can have friends, which has been great for me cause it prompts me to check on friends and them to do the same for me. It allows you to just respond with a little emoji in like a "I'm here for you" little notification to your friend, or you can reach out to your friend on your own. Its really helped me cause I'm bad at reaching out when I need support so to me and I'm bad about taking on other's problems even when I can't handle it so being able to send a little emoji instead to make sure my friends know I'm there if they need me and them doing the same has been great

[vonkarma2]

just had a brief moment of missing taz balance and wanting to rip off its tone pacing and aesthetics its like 2019 all over again..

[animutate]

sometimes i think about how my face could be on some pedophiles computer. but im not allowed to talk about it because last time i did is when i got taken by cps.

[savage-rhi]

I'm very much a, "fuck yeah and fuck you, I don't need validation! I'm me, cunts!" kinda fella, but sometimes I could use support.

[diegoshargrieves]

ngl if i am genuinely being honest. i think listening to mcr again made me want to genuinely try and get better instead of just waiting it out

[archaeren]

How I learned to write smarter, not harder

(aka, how to write when you're hella ADHD lol)

A reader commented on my current long fic asking how I write so well. I replied with an essay of my honestly pretty non-standard writing advice (that they probably didn't actually want lol) Now I'm gonna share it with you guys and hopefully there's a few of you out there who will benefit from my past mistakes and find some useful advice in here. XD Since I started doing this stuff, which are all pretty easy changes to absorb into your process if you want to try them, I now almost never get writer's block.

The text of the original reply is indented, and I've added some additional commentary to expand upon and clarify some of the concepts.

As for writing well, I usually attribute it to the fact that I spent roughly four years in my late teens/early 20s writing text roleplay with a friend for hours every single day. Aside from the constant practice that provided, having a live audience immediately reacting to everything I wrote made me think a lot about how to make as many sentences as possible have maximum impact so that I could get that kind of fun reaction. (Which is another reason why comments like yours are so valuable to fanfic writers! <3) The other factors that have improved my writing are thus: 1. Writing nonlinearly. I used to write a whole story in order, from the first sentence onward. If there was a part I was excited to write, I slogged through everything to get there, thinking that it would be my reward once I finished everything that led up to that. It never worked. XD It was miserable. By the time I got to the part I wanted to write, I had beaten the scene to death in my head imagining all the ways I could write it, and it a) no longer interested me and b) could not live up to my expectations because I couldn't remember all my ideas I'd had for writing it. The scene came out mediocre and so did everything leading up to it. Since then, I learned through working on VN writing (I co-own a game studio and we have some visual novels that I write for) that I don't have to write linearly. If I'm inspired to write a scene, I just write it immediately. It usually comes out pretty good even in a first draft! But then I also have it for if I get more ideas for that scene later, and I can just edit them in. The scenes come out MUCH stronger because of this. And you know what else I discovered? Those scenes I slogged through before weren't scenes I had no inspiration for, I just didn't have any inspiration for them in that moment! I can't tell you how many times there was a scene I had no interest in writing, and then a week later I'd get struck by the perfect inspiration for it! Those are scenes I would have done a very mediocre job on, and now they can be some of the most powerful scenes because I gave them time to marinate. Inspiration isn't always linear, so writing doesn't have to be either!

Some people are the type that joyfully write linearly. I have a friend like this--she picks up the characters and just continues playing out the next scene. Her story progresses through the entire day-by-day lives of the characters; it never timeskips more than a few hours. She started writing and posting just eight months ago, she's about an eighth of the way through her planned fic timeline, and the content she has so far posted to AO3 for it is already 450,000 words long. But most of us are normal humans. We're not, for the most part, wired to create linearly. We consume linearly, we experience linearly, so we assume we must also create linearly. But actually, a lot of us really suffer from trying to force ourselves to create this way, and we might not even realize it. If you're the kind of person who thinks you need to carrot-on-a-stick yourself into writing by saving the fun part for when you finally write everything that happens before it: Stop. You're probably not a linear writer. You're making yourself suffer for no reason and your writing is probably suffering for it. At least give nonlinear writing a try before you assume you can't write if you're not baiting or forcing yourself into it!! Remember: Writing is fun. You do this because it's fun, because it's your hobby. If you're miserable 80% of the time you're doing it, you're probably doing it wrong!

2. Rereading my own work. I used to hate reading my own work. I wouldn't even edit it usually. I would write it and slap it online and try not to look at it again. XD Writing nonlinearly forced me to start rereading because I needed to make sure scenes connected together naturally and it also made it easier to get into the headspace of the story to keep writing and fill in the blanks and get new inspiration. Doing this built the editing process into my writing process--I would read a scene to get back in the headspace, dislike what I had written, and just clean it up on the fly. I still never ever sit down to 'edit' my work. I just reread it to prep for writing and it ends up editing itself. Many many scenes in this fic I have read probably a dozen times or more! (And now, I can actually reread my own work for enjoyment!) Another thing I found from doing this that it became easy to see patterns and themes in my work and strengthen them. Foreshadowing became easy. Setting up for jokes or plot points became easy. I didn't have to plan out my story in advance or write an outline, because the scenes themselves because a sort of living outline on their own. (Yes, despite all the foreshadowing and recurring thematic elements and secret hidden meanings sprinkled throughout this story, it actually never had an outline or a plan for any of that. It's all a natural byproduct of writing nonlinearly and rereading.)

Unpopular writing opinion time: You don't need to make a detailed outline.

Some people thrive on having an outline and planning out every detail before they sit down to write. But I know for a lot of us, we don't know how to write an outline or how to use it once we've written it. The idea of making one is daunting, and the advice that it's the only way to write or beat writer's block is demoralizing. So let me explain how I approach "outlining" which isn't really outlining at all.

I write in a Notion table, where every scene is a separate table entry and the scene is written in the page inside that entry. I do this because it makes writing nonlinearly VASTLY more intuitive and straightforward than writing in a single document. (If you're familiar with Notion, this probably makes perfect sense to you. If you're not, imagine something a little like a more contained Google Sheets, but every row has a title cell that opens into a unique Google Doc when you click on it. And it's not as slow and clunky as the Google suite lol) (Edit from the future: I answered an ask with more explanation on how I use Notion for non-linear writing here.) When I sit down to begin a new fic idea, I make a quick entry in the table for every scene I already know I'll want or need, with the entries titled with a couple words or a sentence that describes what will be in that scene so I'll remember it later. Basically, it's the most absolute bare-bones skeleton of what I vaguely know will probably happen in the story.

Then I start writing, wherever I want in the list. As I write, ideas for new scenes and new connections and themes will emerge over time, and I'll just slot them in between the original entries wherever they naturally fit, rearranging as necessary, so that I won't forget about them later when I'm ready to write them. As an example, my current long fic started with a list of roughly 35 scenes that I knew I wanted or needed, for a fic that will probably be around 100k words (which I didn't know at the time haha). As of this writing, it has expanded to 129 scenes. And since I write them directly in the page entries for the table, the fic is actually its own outline, without any additional effort on my part. As I said in the comment reply--a living outline!

This also made it easier to let go of the notion that I had to write something exactly right the first time. (People always say you should do this, but how many of us do? It's harder than it sounds! I didn't want to commit to editing later! I didn't want to reread my work! XD) I know I'm going to edit it naturally anyway, so I can feel okay giving myself permission to just write it approximately right and I can fix it later. And what I found from that was that sometimes what I believed was kind of meh when I wrote it was actually totally fine when I read it later! Sometimes the internal critic is actually wrong. 3. Marinating in the headspace of the story. For the first two months I worked on [fic], I did not consume any media other than [fandom the fic is in]. I didn't watch, read, or play anything else. Not even mobile games. (And there wasn't really much fan content for [fandom] to consume either. Still isn't, really. XD) This basically forced me to treat writing my story as my only source of entertainment, and kept me from getting distracted or inspired to write other ideas and abandon this one.

As an aside, I don't think this is a necessary step for writing, but if you really want to be productive in a short burst, I do highly recommend going on a media consumption hiatus. Not forever, obviously! Consuming media is a valuable tool for new inspiration, and reading other's work (both good and bad, as long as you think critically to identify the differences!) is an invaluable resource for improving your writing.

When I write, I usually lay down, close my eyes, and play the scene I'm interested in writing in my head. I even take a ten-minute nap now and then during this process. (I find being in a state of partial drowsiness, but not outright sleepiness, makes writing easier and better. Sleep helps the brain process and make connections!) Then I roll over to the laptop next to me and type up whatever I felt like worked for the scene. This may mean I write half a sentence at a time between intervals of closed-eye-time XD

People always say if you're stuck, you need to outline.

What they actually mean by that (whether they realize it or not) is that if you're stuck, you need to brainstorm. You need to marinate. You don't need to plan what you're doing, you just need to give yourself time to think about it!

What's another framing for brainstorming for your fic? Fantasizing about it! Planning is work, but fantasizing isn't.

You're already fantasizing about it, right? That's why you're writing it. Just direct that effort toward the scenes you're trying to write next! Close your eyes, lay back, and fantasize what the characters do and how they react.

And then quickly note down your inspirations so you don't forget, haha.

And if a scene is so boring to you that even fantasizing about it sucks--it's probably a bad scene.

If it's boring to write, it's going to be boring to read. Ask yourself why you wanted that scene. Is it even necessary? Can you cut it? Can you replace it with a different scene that serves the same purpose but approaches the problem from a different angle? If you can't remove the troublesome scene, what can you change about it that would make it interesting or exciting for you to write?

And I can't write sitting up to save my damn life. It's like my brain just stops working if I have to sit in a chair and stare at a computer screen. I need to be able to lie down, even if I don't use it! Talking walks and swinging in a hammock are also fantastic places to get scene ideas worked out, because the rhythmic motion also helps our brain process. It's just a little harder to work on a laptop in those scenarios. XD

In conclusion: Writing nonlinearly is an amazing tool for kicking writer's block to the curb. There's almost always some scene you'll want to write. If there isn't, you need to re-read or marinate.

Or you need to use the bathroom, eat something, or sleep. XD Seriously, if you're that stuck, assess your current physical condition. You might just be unable to focus because you're uncomfortable and you haven't realized it yet.

Anyway! I hope that was helpful, or at least interesting! XD Sorry again for the text wall. (I think this is the longest comment reply I've ever written!)

And same to you guys on tumblr--I hope this was helpful or at least interesting. XD Reblogs appreciated if so! (Maybe it'll help someone else!)

[moonlight-at-dawn]

a strange thing to say as a 90s kid, but I miss when we could have fun without being assholes

[dxxtruction]

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