#I mean I don’t even have the job anymore so

[revelboo]

Not a request but just to say thank you for all the work youve done for us!!! Your characterization’s are just top tier and I love how you build up the interactions and focus on the smaller things, really gives us a feel of everythingg

Please do take breaks though!! The rate which you write is crazy honestly😭😭😭

I can technically do these short form fics very quickly if I want to, but my day job is keeping me a bit busy right now.

Better Open The Door Pt 8

IDW Thundercracker x Reader

• Using a spare blanket to rub your hair dry, your mind keeps dredging up the memory of his lips pressing softly against your spine. He’d behaved himself after, but he’d spent more time watching your furtive attempts to wash without flashing him than even trying to wash himself. It’s just his weird fascinations with humans and you know it, but still. The feel of his lips on you had been warm, felt real even if it can’t possibly be. Groaning, you drape the blanket over your head and just hide. From him and from your own weird thoughts. From the fact that even though you should resent him, it’s hard to.

• Watching you from his desk as he fiddles with his data pad, he leans to try and tug the blanket off of you. “What are you doing?” You latch onto it, resisting and while he knows he could easily uncover you, he lets you have whatever this is. Privacy? You’re back in your coverings, so maybe you’re just tired? “I can dim the lights if you need to rest.” And there you are, peeking out at him.

• You want to ask. About his possessive words before and that touch, because you’re not sure he’s playing the same game anymore and you hate not understanding the rules. He’d taken you just to play pretend, playing house with you to satisfy some weird desire from watching too many movies. Right? Whatever that was in the wash racks hadn’t felt like playing, though. “What am I to you?”

• Don’t you already know? Reaching out to tip your chin up and smiling when you catch his servo, but don’t push him away, he studies your expression. “We’re friends, right?” He asks even though that’s not quite right at all. Wants to protect the peace you give him, your smiles and laughs that had come so easily before he’d taken you, but now they’re brittle. Unhappy with him for keeping you here. For not giving you a choice.

• “Yeah, friends,” you mutter, blowing out a breath. And as annoyed as you are with him, he’s just so genuinely invested in you, in worrying over you and trying to make you happy, that it’s hard to stay furious with him for kidnapping you. No matter what he insists, he will get bored with you. You’re not that interesting and he has to realize that. This can’t last, but it’s not like you can hate him. He’s still Thundercracker. Still painfully optimistic and hopeful, just wanting to be with you. Maybe lonely, too.

• “Best friends,” he insists, choosing to ignore it when you roll your eyes at him. “I downloaded some movies on my data pad.” Reaching for you, his servos stop shy of touching you. Giving you a choice. He misses your real smiles, wants to go back to when you trusted him. Because this uneasy tension hurts. It’s almost more lonely than he’d been before he found you. Your head tips to study his expression and he fully expects you to refuse, so when you wrap yourself in your blanket and place yourself in his servos, it means everything. He can’t tell you the truth, yet. Can’t explain why he took you, what’s coming. Because when he admits that his war is likely going to take everything from you, you really will hate him.

Previous

[acommonanomaly]

I’ve seen a lot of criticisms of how the Crows are portrayed in The Veilguard, the biggest one being that they are “sanitized,” and while I can sort of see why people think this, I personally don’t see it. 

I was thrilled with the Crows in the Veilguard. My Crow Rook playthrough was so satisfying, and I came to love the Crows even more than I did before. 

Maybe that’s because I don’t feel the need to be constantly reminded that they are assassins who kill people for money. Or maybe it’s that I love them because they are assassins who kill people for money. I thoroughly enjoy morally gray characters, those who struggle against or give in entirely to the darker sides of their natures. I enjoy them because they are a warning of what any of us could become under the right (or wrong) circumstances.

And that’s why it’s so vital to me that they are not dehumanized. 

Of course some of these people who have gathered together as a group are going to form found families. I LIVE for that shit. Them being assassins doesn’t mean they're incapable of seeking friendship, family, and love. They’re people. Of course they’re going to fight for the freedom of their city and their people when Treviso is occupied. That doesn’t mean they aren’t assassins anymore and it doesn’t mean they’re knights in shining armor. It means they’re people fighting for what they love.

Zevran told us about the horrible recruiting methods of house Arainai and their torture of children. But it’s also heavily implied that he really cleaned house and stirred up change. I like to think that his campaign against his house made waves, that it changed some things. Not to mention, I find it very likely that each house has its own methods, its own way of doing things. 

And really, there’s no reason to believe that there isn’t dark shit still going on behind some closed doors just because the Crows don’t open those doors to Rook, especially a non-Crow Rook. The Crows not showing dark shit to this ally who is helping them doesn’t mean they don’t have dark shit going on. The Crows absolutely have their infighting and betrayals, look what happened with Illario!

(As a side note: I would have loved for Caterina to have been called out for her abuse of Illario and Lucanis, but Lucanis has been through a crap-ton of trauma and probably feels like Caterina is all he has left, especially after Illario’s betrayal. It makes sense that he’s not ready to face that just yet.)

What I find really fascinating is how a lot of the Crows seem to see themselves. The Crows grow up in a place where being an assassin has become completely normalized. Antiva has no standing army and relies on the reputation of the Crows to deter other nations from engaging in open conflict with them. Many of the Crows seem proud to be Crows.

And they have their own code they live by, even if we in the real world wouldn’t find it a particularly moral one. 

It’s illustrated most clearly in regards to Jacobus:

.

.

.

Imagine the chaos that would ensue if Crows were allowed to just kill willy nilly? How would they look then? They do not want to be seen as mindless killers. They don’t want their new recruits to fall into the habit of killing without a contract, as this would make them something other than what they would like to see themselves as. 

This makes sense and I like seeing it examined.

I love the Crows being explored more deeply and given more depth. I love seeing them as people as well as assassins. I would love to see even more of it, to see how these people who go out and kill for money behave once they’re not on the job. 

This is good stuff and I’m all for it. 

[cyarikaplease]

this is the way to behave

professor!din x student!reader

summary: act up in professor djarin’s class, suffer the consequences.

warnings: smut

You’re in your senior year at Coruscant University, inching closer and closer to finally graduating. You’re a history major and while you love history with all of your heart, school is draining you. So when your advisor tells you that you have to take Mandalorian Studies this semester, you’re less than thrilled. She sends you a copy of your schedule on your data pad and you take a look at the Mandalorian Studies section you’re in. And apparently, it’s being taught by Professor Djarin? You don’t even know who that is. Maybe they’re new to campus or an adjunct professor? Whoever they are, you hope they’re a good professor, or else this is about to be the longest and most boring semester of your life. 

You send your schedule to your friends, Helia and Mione, also history majors. To your delight, they’re both in Mandalorian Studies with you. At least you can goof off together. You’re so close to graduating that class isn’t that big of a deal for you anymore, you already have some promising job prospects after graduation. You’ll just have to suffer through this boring class. But at least you and your friends will do it together… Right?

-

It’s the first day of the semester. You’re about to head to Mandalorian Studies, in a particular part of campus you don’t normally frequent. The classroom is your typical university lecture hall, with a pitched floor with a desk situated in the center, large screens behind the desk, and seats on each of the steps. Your friends wave to you and you head over to them, sitting in the seat they saved. 

“Are you ready for the most boring class ever?” Helia snickers. 

“Don’t get me started,” you groan. 

You lean back in your chair and close your eyes, shielding them from the bright lights of the lecture hall. Until you hear a collection of gasps followed by one of your classmates saying, “That’s the professor?”

Your eyes fly open to see a Mandalorian in shiny beskar armor heading down the steps to the desk in the center of the floor. Kriff, you didn’t think the professor himself would actually be a Mandalorian. 

He faces the class, a group of about forty students, and takes a deep breath. 

“Hello. I’m Professor Djarin. Welcome to Mandalorian Studies. This semester we’ll be learning about Mandalorian culture starting from the beginning until the present day.”

Maker, his voice is so nice, with a sultry modulated tone. Maybe you could get used to this. At least the boring topics will have a soothing feel to them. 

That is if you pay attention. Because all of a sudden class is over and you didn’t retain a single piece of information. Great. 

As you leave the classroom you glance over your shoulder and get one last look at Professor Djarin. He notices and his visor locks onto you, so you look away quickly and feel your cheeks go hot. 

Upon entering the hallway your friends say, “Total snooze fest, right?” followed by a laugh. 

“I mean…” you respond. 

“Don’t tell me you actually enjoyed that,” Mione says. 

“I didn’t enjoy it. I just think his voice is nice.”

“Maybe it would be nicer if he wasn’t talking about the most mind-numbing topics in the world,” Helia says. 

“Yeah… I wasn’t paying attention,” you admit. 

“Oof, don’t make that a habit if you actually want to pass. I have no idea how this guy grades,” Helia says, pretending to scold you. 

“Oh, he seems like a total hardass,” you snort. 

You all groan in unison. Here’s to the start of a long semester. 

-

It’s been a few weeks since your class with Professor Djarin started. You’ve been doing… alright. It’s been a little tough to pay attention between zoning out to the sound of his deep voice or your friends goofing off. You got a B+ on your last paper, not your best but also not your worst! It was a paper on the Siege of Mandalore during the Clone Wars, so lots of information and also a heavy topic. 

You’ve also come to a realization you haven’t shared with your friends… Professor Djarin is hot, like really hot. You don’t even know what he looks like under all the armor but between that voice and the way he saunters into the classroom and the way he tilts his helmet to the side whenever he’s listening to someone talk, and- Kriff, you got it bad. 

You’re not even subtle about it, fully checking him out as he’s in the middle of lectures, admiring the way he rests a hand in his belt… the arrow on his glove pointing directly to where his cock is under his flight suit. 

Class is about to get a lot worse for you though. Because you’re sitting in the back like you and your friends typically do. And Professor Djarjn is explaining the Mandalorian phrase “This is the way” and… you all can’t stop laughing. 

“This is wayyy,” Helia says in the sassiest but also quietest voice she can muster. 

“This is the wahhh,” Mione says, holding back her own laughter. 

It shouldn’t be funny but it is. And you’re doing your best to stifle your laughs but it’s hard, threatening to rip themselves free from your throat. You swipe the tears from the corners of your eyes and blink a few times to regain focus to see… Professor Djarin staring directly at you. 

“Oh kriff, guys stop it,” you say, lightly slapping Helia on the arm. 

“What?” she asks before following your gaze and realizing what’s going on. “Oh,” she lets out softly. 

For the rest of the class you don’t look at each other, because if you do the laughter threatens to come back. Thankfully, Professor Djarin didn’t say anything. Maybe it’ll all be okay. 

Class is over finally and you get ready to leave. But before you pass through the door, you feel a hand on your shoulder followed by your name being called out. It’s Professor Djarin. You don’t even need to turn around to confirm it. The voice is a dead giveaway. 

You turn around to face the stone-cold glare of the T-shaped visor and take a deep breath. 

“Can you stay back for a moment?”

“S-Sure.”

“You guys don’t have to wait. I’ll catch up with you later,” you say to your friends, both of them looking like they’ve seen a ghost judging by their clammy, panicked appearance. 

This has to be about what happened in class just now. What else could it possibly be? 

But if this is about being reprimanded… Why isn’t he making them stay after class, too?

He walks past you and locks the door, before turning to you and saying, “Meet me by my desk.”

He heads down to the desk and you gulp. Why did he lock the classroom door? This can’t be good. 

You head down the steps and set your bag on an empty chair before walking over to him, facing him and his glaring stance. 

“Do you know why I’m speaking to you privately right now?”

“Look, if this is about what me, Helia and Mione were doing, I’m sorry. I meant no disrespect. I was trying not to laugh but-”

“Oh, before we even get to the topic of that. We need to talk about you eyeing me up and down like a piece of meat, in my own classroom.”

“Uhh-”

“Oh yes, I noticed, pretty girl. Doesn’t help that you’re so obvious about it.”

You’re mortified right now, completely skipping over the fact that he called you pretty girl. As soon as this little talk is over, you’re heading to your advisor’s office and dropping this class. 

“I’m-I’m sorry,” you manage to spit out. 

“That’s all you have to say?”

“W-what do you want me to say?”

“How about I’m sorry, sir?” 

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“I don’t think that’s enough. I think you need to be punished.”

“What? Please, sir. I’ve already apologized.”

“And I said I don’t think that’s enough, pretty girl. Bend over the desk.”

You can’t deny how hot this is. Being disciplined by the hot professor? Never in your wildest dreams did you think this would happen, especially in this class. 

You move around to the back of the desk, bending over and resting on your elbows. You picked the worst day (or maybe the best day) to wear a skirt. As you bend over, your skirt rides up, exposing more of your thighs. He moves behind you, running his gloved hands along your soft flesh. 

“And who do you think you are? Wearing this short skirt to my class like a whore. Did you want my attention?”

“Maybe…”

“What was that?” he says, resting a hand on your ass. You also picked the worst day (or again, maybe the best day) to go commando. You shiver at the feeling of the leather against your bare ass. 

“Yes, sir,” you say, gasping at the end of your sentence as he runs finger along your entrance. You’re already soaked, having fantasized about him in every class since you laid eyes on him. And of course he notices, bringing his hand in front of your face to show you the physical proof. 

“Dirty, dirty girl, getting wet in class while I’m just trying to teach… Time for you to get punished.”

He moves his hand from your face and spanks you on the ass, the leather colliding with your skin. You let out a moan, the stinging feeling left on your skin in the aftermath. 

“You liked that, didn’t you?” he rasps by your ear. 

Another spank. Another moan, this one deeper than the last. 

“Dirty girl likes getting punished over my desk, doesn’t she?”

“Y-yes, sir,” you breathe out, getting off from the sound of his voice and the feeling of his gloves on your ass. 

“Thought so,” he tuts, drawing his hand back and spanking your ass again. 

You moan again and he says, “I don’t think the spanking is enough. I think you need a real punishment.”

“Please, sir.”

He runs his hand along your wetness again before sliding a finger inside, slowly working your walls before adding a second one. You think about his gloved fingers, pumping in and out of you. Kriff, that thought drives you crazy. 

“You get to cum when I say so, got it? And don’t even think about coming without telling me, or I’ll pull out so fast.”

You whine in response, prompting him to grab you by the throat and pull you upright against him. 

“Got it?” he reiterates. 

“Yes, sir. I understand.”

“Be a good girl for me,” he teases, letting go of your throat and bending you over the desk again. 

He curls his fingers inside you, pressing up against your g-spot. You feel your pleasure mounding, teetering on the edge of orgasm. You do your best to hold off, to wait for his approval but it’s too hard. 

“Please, sir. Can I cum?”

“Not yet,” he commands. 

You whimper in response, fearing you won’t be able to hold on and you’ll be punished. 

“Please, sir,” you beg, the desperation heavy in your voice. 

“Fine,” he sighs, feigning kindness. 

You cum around his fingers, his leather-clad fingers, shaking against the desk. You shake a little bit, knees threatening to give out just from being fingered. He pulls his fingers from you once you’re done coming, spreading your release around his cock and slamming into you, giving you no time to recover. 

“Oh, kriff,” you curse, walls adjusting to the newfound length and girth inside you.

“You can take it,” he commands. 

“Yes, sir,” you spit in between your labored breathing. 

His hands grip your hips tightly as he fucks you against the desk, making it shake beneath you. He pulls you into him as he thrusts back into you, making your ass slam up against his groin, all while he talks you through it. 

“Dirty girl likes taking my cock over my desk, huh?”

“It’s- it’s so good, sir,” you respond, completely blissed out. 

“Oh, I know. And you’re taking it like such a good girl,” he praises. 

You whimper at his praise and stars cloud your vision, the euphoria swirling throughout your body.

“Can I please cum?”

“I suppose since you’re taking my cock so good, pretty girl.”

His praise does it again, pushing you over the edge. You cum around his cock, convulsing and gripping him as you ride out your high. The lecture hall is filled with the sounds of your moans and cries as he fucks you through your release. 

“Good girl,” he praises, his voice dripping with his own pleasure. 

He grunts and you feel his cock twitch inside you. Kriff, he’s going to cum soon. Before you can even tell him to pull out he’s painting your insides with his release, holding your hips in place. He pulls out of you once he’s done and you collapse onto the desk, your knees finally giving out. 

There’s a layer of wetness in between you and the desk. Professor Djarin chuckles and says, “Look at you. Made a mess all over my desk.” 

You pull yourself off and smooth down your skirt, averting your gaze to the floor. 

“Sorry about that,” you say sheepishly. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he chuckles again. 

“Well, uh, I’m sorry about what happened in class earlier. It won’t happen again,” you respond, suddenly feeling embarrassed. 

You grab your bag off the chair and quickly head out. But before you can leave through the door, he says, “Feel free to stay late after the next class,” in a sly tone, hands on hips. 

You nod, feeling your face go hot, and dart out the door. 

Yeah, you’re definitely not dropping his class now. 

[mybworlds]

Chapter 9: Emptiness

Pairing: joel miller x f!reader (no use of Y/N) | Rating: 18+ Minors DNI | W.C.:

Summary: Your life sounds perfect: you live with a perfect man, you live in your dream house, you do the job you love, you don't miss anything, except love and passion.

Warnings: no use of Y/N, use of you, reader is a photographer, reader has no physical descriptions except hair (no type or color) long enough to hold on to, unspecified age gap, Joel and reader are two cheaters, for a while. Smut, use of pet names, dirty talk, masturbation, unprotected PiV but the first time, creampies, comeplay, oral (both f and m recieving), exhibitionism, size kink, personal use of an unspecified sex toy. No outbreak here. Let me know if I missed anything!

Masterlist

follow @mybworlds and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics

Thx for the dividers @saradika-graphics

Taglist @harriedandharassed

The air suddenly becomes suspended, as if charged with a strange electricity. Patrick no longer speaks and Joel seems to have become a statue, you don't know what to do or say. You wish you hadn't been so direct and hasty in your words, but now it's done, you can't go back.

“Patrick?” you resume “I'm sorry, but I had to tell you the truth. It's not fair that you still believe or hope that we'll get back together.” you are lapidary even though you don't know if there will actually something with Joel, but you really hope so.

Patrick sighs, “I see.” He sighs again, “Are you happy?”

You feel a tightness in the pit of your stomach, you close your eyes and look up at Joel who instead is not looking at you anymore and you feel empty. Is he afraid? Does he not want to? Does he not care about you?

On the other hand, he’s always been clear, he told you since your first meeting that he doesn't want a relationship with you or anyone else, why should he change his mind now? For you? Not even before you were in bed, he told you that he wanted a future with you, he just told you that he was fine, but... while for you that might mean having feelings, for him it might not be like that.

“I'm confused.” You are sincere in your response to Patrick.

“He doesn’t want you?” he asks you.

You look up at Joel who has his back to you now, his body turned toward the kitchen and his hands resting on the sink, his head still low.

“I don't know.” You answer him and in those moments, seeing his reaction, you can't help but wonder if deep down you didn't do everything wrong with Joel and Patrick. “Patrick, I'm sorry,” you add, clutching the phone tighter.

“We’ve both hurt each other, baby.” He sighs. “I don’t know what’s going to happen with him, but I hope he makes you feel more important than I did.” he adds with a regretful tone.

You wanted to tell him that given Joel's expression, it's highly unlikely that you can or he will want to continue seeing you. But you don’t say anything.

“I wish you every happiness,” Patrick tells you again.

“Yes, you too.” there’s still a moment of silence between you, then he ends the call.

You place the phone on Joel's kitchen peninsula and then look up, taking in the weight of the words you just said: Joel is silent and motionless as if everything he has heard has robbed him of the strength to move and speak. He still doesn't look at you.

“Joel?” you call, getting up from the stool. “I’m sorry you heard it that way, but… it’s the truth.”

He sighs, looking towards the window next to the kitchen, “Do you know why I never wanted to bond with someone again?” he asks without looking at you.

You shake your head, even though you know he's not looking at you.

“Because I can’t stand to see or hear words like the ones I heard. D’ you know what my ex-wife said to me when I tried to find a way to get back together?” he pauses, a long one and that's when he turns towards you “That she had fallen in love with someone else, that she was confused, that things between us weren't workin’. Do you know how that made me feel? Useless, a useless man." he nods “And the worst thing is that Patrick is my friend and I did what I did to him.”

You frown, “There were two of us, there have always been two of us who were together, in confiding in each other.” You tell him almost in a pleading tone “Please, don’t feel guilty. We both wanted it.” he shakes his head. “Joel? Please don’t.” a horrible creepy feeling spreads inside you, Joel doesn't want you. He's pushing you away.

Your eyes fill with tears, your lips tremble, you look down, while timid tears fly towards the floor. You feel like throwing up, a feeling of rejection, of pain tightens your stomach making you almost unable to breathe.

“Please, talk to me.” you beg.

His face becomes tense, then he finally looks up at you and the sweet look you had found there until a few minutes ago has disappeared. He looks cold, his gaze hard, then shakes his head, “I can’t.” his gaze is empty, unrecognizable.

“Maybe we could...”

“No.” his tone is cold, he doesn’t allow for replies “There’s no us.” you freeze in place "You better go.” he adds, looking everywhere but at you.

The world around you is spinning wildly. Suddenly nothing seems to make sense, every thought you have is jumbled together so meaningless. Your lower lip is trembling, shy tears are streaming down your cheeks, “That was the reason why I just fucked. Now even that won't be possible anymore because every time it’ll happens, I won't be able to help but wonder if I will see your same look in another woman, or if any other woman won't want to change her life because of me." his is a thin whisper in which each word is well articulated and impossible not to hear.

You’re about to tell him not to shut himself away, not to treat you like this, but he interrupts you again, “When you go out, make sure you close the door tightly.”

You're about to repeat his name and beg him not to treat you like this, but nothing comes out of your mouth, not even a sound. He gives you one last long, silent look, then you're left alone in his house.

You look desperate and absent at the same time, you don't even know where you're going. You only know that you're empty, completely empty. Your heart is beating hard in your chest, it hurts. You are speechless and almost breathless. What happened has completely shaken you. You are struggling not to give in to the tears that are building up in the back of your eyes.

Everything is destroyed. Everything is lost.

You have lost everything.

You have nothing left and what could have been a beautiful project that you could have shared with him, with Joel, has disintegrated because by his own admission he himself has already lived everything and does not intend to do it again. He's always been clear from the beginning. His previous relationship burned him so much that even his heart is reduced to ashes and now maybe hearing it beat again for someone pains him so much that he doesn't want to feel it.

You wipe away your tears a couple of times, not wanting to attract anyone's attention. You know that surely no one will even look at your face, but crying for you has always been an act to be done alone.

You have now arrived in front of your shop, the seat of your great infinite pride, your job. Maybe everything can start from here, from who you are, a photographer, a good photographer. And it's not you who says it, but the people who turn to you.

You struggle to concentrate, your mind often goes back there, to that silent goodbye. Joel won't go back. If his ex-wife hurt him as much as he says, he won't look for you again.

No matter how hard you try to think positively, to focus on something else, your mind always takes you back to that exact moment, to when you destroyed three lives at once, when you uttered those fateful words.

I fell in love with someone else.

You feel stupid because for a day you really had illusions that Joel could choose you, but then all of that dissolved before your eyes, shattering your hopes and your heart.

Emptiness.

That's what you feel.

Emptiness.

Just a deep, unbridgeable void.

As the hours pass, the situation does not improve, indeed it seems always be worse.

You feel weak, cowardly, maybe the problem is not Patrick or Joel who clearly rejected you, but you are the problem. Maybe you need so much love, passion, desire that you don't care about making others feel bad if you're fine.

What kind of person have you become?

Daisy's words that should comfort you make you collapse into a state of great despair. She’s very sweet, she takes great care of you in every possible and imaginable way, but all this doesn't lift your spirits.

You don't know what kind of person you are anymore. You once knew exactly who you were and what you wanted, you thought you knew it and you went straight down that road.

The result?

You hit a wall called Joel Miller. A wall that left your heart broken, bleeding and humiliated you like no one had ever done before.

But you want to make a last desperate attempt, you want to talk to him. You want to do it calmly, find the right words and not be reckless. You know it will almost certainly hurt to hear certain things, but you want to hear them. You have two.

Are you a masochist?

Yes, maybe.

But then you tell yourself that if he's cruel to you again, you'll be the one who doesn't want to think about him anymore. You want him, you want him in your life, but you don't want someone who makes you feel weak and vulnerable, who uses you and then throws you away like that.

You are not like that, you know it. You know you are worth so much more than this. You deserve better. And if that better is being without Joel Miller, then so be it.

Daisy of course advises you against it. She says you aren’t thinking clearly yet. You feel confused, but determined.

It's been almost three weeks and now you're sure you want to talk to him, you need to. Even if you know you probably won't get a different answer than the one you've already had, but as much as it may hurt you now you want to put an end to it.

The emptiness he left in you has given way to disappointment and anger.

You reach his house thinking about what to say to him, but everything seems stupid or incoherent. You are in front of his place.

You ring the bell.

What the fuck are you doing here?

You hear a voice shouting ‘comin’, it’s a woman. Your heart skips a beat. A moment later, a beautiful woman opens the door. The woman is wearing a bathrobe, she looks strong and determined, but above all happy. She smiles at you, “You’re the delivery guy, aren’t you? You were fast!”

You're shocked, “No... uhm, is Joel there?”

“Yes, are you a colleague of his?” she asks you, pulling the edges of his bathrobe a little tighter.

“No.”

“So, who are you?” she asks.

“Uhm…”

“Tess, who’s there?” another voice from inside reaches your ears. It's Joel.

Joel appears behind her, opening the door a little wider. His expression changes from puzzled to astonished, then he becomes gloomy, “What are you doing here?” he asks you.

What are you doing there? You're wondering that too.

Tess looks at your face, then at Joel's. You don't know what to answer.

You kind of expected it, but not in such a brutal way. He replaced you even though he told you he couldn't do that anymore after what you told him.

“Sorry, I was wrong to come.” You don’t know what else to say to them.

How stupid!

You turn your back on them, feeling a lump in your throat. You move away quickly from Joel’s place. You were wrong to go there, but now more than ever you feel like you can move on and stop thinking about him. He has already replaced you. There’s nothing left for you.

You decide you don't want to think about Joel Miller anymore, since you met him you have fallen into a vortex of passion, he has satisfied you every time, but no one has shattered your heart like he did. You hold your hair with both hands, tonight you stay in your shop where you tinker with the computer. You look back at all the photoshoots you've done over the last two years and think about how many times you've put yourself aside to please others, but making yourself unhappy and pretending it was your decision.

Now all this has to end. From now on you will only think about yourself, for a while enough with love. You have only known how to make a lot of messes. You go through some old emails and find one from a few years ago that you received for a fashion show of a prestigious fashion house. You never wanted to trash it because you liked to remember that moment and then because in the email as a post scriptum they had written to you that if you had been interested there would always have been a place for you. It was really a great service that you did, you remember that they wrote to you that the sales had even tripled after your work!

You smile while looking at the screen. Why not!

Maybe Saint Barbara will do you good.

[jeonsblackgf-writes]

Every inch of you | Eddie Munson

summary: you’re insecure about yourself after having a baby. as your husband, its eddie’s job to reassure you no matter what.

warnings: none

word count: 2,554

pairing: Eddie Munson x black!reader

——————————————————-

The soft hum of a lullaby drifted through the room, a faint melody playing from the baby monitor on the dresser. The night outside was still, the only light in the room coming from the soft glow of the nightlight beside the crib. The baby, barely a few weeks old, lay in her crib, her tiny form curled up in the soft blankets.

You were sitting on the edge of the bed, your eyes staring down at the remnants of your pregnancy—your body having undergone so much in the past months. You couldn’t help but feel a sense of disconnection, a weight on your heart that wasn’t from exhaustion, but from something deeper. You’d just given birth to your beautiful daughter, but somehow, looking at yourself in the mirror, you didn’t feel like you recognized the woman staring back at you. Your body had changed. You weren’t the same, and though you knew you shouldn’t feel this way, you couldn’t stop the insecurity from bubbling to the surface.

A soft knock at the door pulled you from your thoughts.

“Hey, you good?” Eddie’s voice called, the warmth of his tone doing little to quell the storm inside your mind.

You sighed, wiping your hand over your face. “Yeah, just… just tired.”

The door creaked open, and Eddie stepped inside, his eyes immediately finding yours. His dark hair was messy, his usual wild curls even more chaotic after a long day of being up with the baby. He wore a faded band tee and a pair of loose jeans, but it was the way he moved—slow and deliberate—that made you pause. You had always noticed how gentle he was with you, but these past weeks, as new parents, you’d seen a side of him that made your heart swell.

Eddie’s brown eyes softened as he took in the sight of you sitting there, lost in thought. His gaze flickered to the baby, then back to you. Without a word, he crossed the room, sitting next to you on the bed.

“Hey,” he said quietly, his hand gently brushing against your back as he reached for you. “You okay?”

You didn’t answer right away, instead, you looked at the baby—your baby—her tiny chest rising and falling with each soft breath. She had Eddie’s eyes, dark and intense, and your skin—smooth, rich, and radiant. You loved her more than anything. But still… you couldn’t shake the feeling that you had lost something in the process.

“I just… I don’t know, Eddie.” Your voice cracked, and you felt tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “I just don’t feel like me anymore.”

Eddie’s hand was now resting on your knee, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into your skin. He didn’t say anything for a moment, just letting you process what you were feeling. He knew you were overwhelmed, but he also knew that this was something you’d have to work through in your own time. The one thing he was sure of, though, was that you didn’t have to do it alone.

“Listen to me, okay?” Eddie said softly, his voice steady and comforting. “You are more than just your body. You’re… everything to me. And you’re everything to our daughter.”

You met his gaze, and something in his eyes made your heart twist—soft, sincere, and full of love.

“I know you’re probably not feeling the greatest about everything right now. You’re adjusting, just like I am. But—” He stopped, his words a little more playful, his lips curling up at the edges. “—you’re still the woman I fell in love with. The one with that amazing smile, and the way you laugh when you think something is funny, even when it’s a little dumb. You’re still you, babe.”

A laugh escaped your lips at his words, but it was tinged with sorrow. “I just feel like I’m not—”

“You’re still beautiful.” Eddie interrupted gently. “You’re the most beautiful woman I know, and I don’t mean that just because you’re my wife. I mean it in every possible way.” He took your hand in his, his thumb brushing the top of your knuckles. “I can see it, in the way you hold our daughter, the way you care for her, how gentle you are with her, even when you’re completely exhausted. You’re perfect to me. And you’re perfect for her.

You swallowed hard, the tears you’d been trying to hold back threatening to spill over. “I don’t feel perfect. I don’t even feel like myself right now, Eddie.”

He let out a soft breath, his thumb rubbing over your hand in slow, tender motions. His gaze never left yours, the love in his eyes so raw and true that it made your chest tighten.

“I get it,” Eddie said, his voice low and sincere. “But what I see in you, babe… it’s not just your body. I mean, you’ve got the most beautiful body I’ve ever seen, but it’s more than that. It’s the way you care, the way you love with everything you have. The way you put everyone else’s needs first. I’ve never seen anyone more selfless, and more… incredible than you.”

You shook your head gently, feeling the weight of his words, but still unsure of yourself. “I’ve changed, Eddie. I don’t look the same. I don’t feel the same.”

Eddie moved closer to you, his hand on your cheek now, his thumb gently wiping away a tear that had slipped down your face.

“You’ve had a baby, sweetheart.” He smiled softly, his lips brushing against your forehead as he whispered, “That’s gonna change things. But that doesn’t mean you’re any less of the woman I love. You know that, right?”

You nodded, but your eyes fell to the blankets, the weight of your thoughts still clouding your mind. Eddie’s finger lifted your chin so that you were forced to meet his gaze.

“Look at me,” he said softly, his voice steady and reassuring. “You’re not alone in this. And I’m not going anywhere. I’m here, every step of the way. You’re perfect, just as you are, and that’s how I see you. Always.”

His hand slid from your cheek down to your collarbone, his fingers gently tracing the soft curves of your body. “I see you, all of you. And you’re more beautiful than you’ve ever been.”

The words settled in your chest like a warm balm, and you let out a shaky breath, closing your eyes as you leaned into him. Eddie’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you close, and for the first time in weeks, you felt a wave of peace wash over you.

The room was quiet for a moment, save for the sound of your baby’s soft, steady breathing. You rested your head on Eddie’s shoulder, letting his warmth envelop you. He wasn’t pushing, just letting you be. And somehow, in that moment, you knew he was right. You were still you.

“I love you,” you whispered, your voice muffled against his chest.

Eddie kissed the top of your head, his hand running gently through your hair. “I love you more than you’ll ever know. And nothing, not even time, can change that.”

You stayed like that for a while, in the quiet stillness of the night, wrapped in each other’s arms. With Eddie by your side, you could face anything, even the uncertainty that came with motherhood and the changes in your body.

And when you looked at your daughter, peacefully sleeping in her crib, you realized that this new chapter—this beautiful, chaotic, life-changing chapter—was something you could navigate, with Eddie and your little girl by your side.

The room was peaceful now, the baby monitor quietly hums as you and Eddie sat together in the dim light. The quiet, soft breathing of your daughter, still in her crib, was the only sound that filled the space, but you felt like the air between you and Eddie was thick with something deeper, something comforting.

Eddie’s hand still rested on your knee, his fingers occasionally brushing against the skin of your leg as he just… sat with you. He didn’t say anything more at first, but his presence was enough. You could feel his steady heartbeat, the calm energy that radiated from him. He was here, with you, and somehow that made all the difference.

You leaned into him a little more, letting his warmth seep into you, feeling the comfort of his embrace, as though he was giving you the strength to keep going, even when you felt like you didn’t have enough.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, the words falling out before you could stop them. You weren’t even sure why you felt the need to apologize. “I’ve just been… so hard on myself.”

Eddie shook his head gently, a soft laugh escaping his lips as he leaned back against the headboard, pulling you into his side even more. “You don’t have to apologize for that. You’ve been through a lot.” His fingers brushed your hair back from your face, his touch gentle, like he was trying to smooth away every worry you had. “You’re allowed to feel whatever you’re feeling right now. You just had a baby.”

You nodded but couldn’t quite look at him. The insecurity still lingered, despite his words. Your body had changed, and you couldn’t help but feel like a stranger in your own skin.

“You’re incredible, you know that?” Eddie said suddenly, his voice low, almost like he was speaking to himself. He was looking down at you now, his hand resting on your lower back, the touch grounding you, reminding you that you weren’t alone in this.

“I feel anything but incredible,” you murmured.

“You are,” he repeated, more firmly this time. “I’ve seen you grow, not just as a woman, but as a mother, and honestly, I’m in awe of you.”

The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard. You looked up at him then, finding him staring at you with so much tenderness that it made your heart ache in the best way. His dark eyes were soft, filled with admiration and love. He wasn’t just talking about your looks—he was talking about the person you were. The mother of his child. The woman who made him feel whole.

“Eddie…” You trailed off, not sure how to respond, but his fingers on your chin coaxed you to look up at him fully.

“I mean it, babe,” he said, his voice hushed. “I’ve never seen anyone do what you’ve done with so much grace. So much strength. You brought our daughter into this world—into our world—and you’re doing it with a love that’s so… so fierce.”

You swallowed, feeling the tightness in your chest again. It wasn’t just from the exhaustion anymore. It was the realization that maybe, just maybe, Eddie was right. Maybe you could give yourself some grace too.

“Look at you,” Eddie continued softly, his hand gently cupping your face. “You’re sitting here, taking care of us, still managing to look after her, and I can’t even begin to tell you how much I love you for it. You’re beautiful inside and out.”

His thumb stroked the curve of your cheek, a subtle reminder of just how much he adored you. You felt your breath hitch, the emotional weight of everything—of motherhood, of the changes in your body, and of the love you felt for him and your daughter—felt so overwhelming in the best way.

“Eddie, I…” You stopped yourself, not quite sure how to express what you were feeling. “I’m scared sometimes. That I won’t look the same. Or that I won’t be enough. That I won’t… be the wife or the mother you deserve.”

Eddie’s expression softened even more, and his voice was thick with emotion when he spoke next. “Stop it,” he said gently but firmly. “You are everything I need. And every part of you is exactly what I want. I don’t care if your body’s different, or if you feel a little lost right now. You’ve given me the best gift I could ever ask for: you gave me our daughter, and you’re everything she’s ever going to need.”

His words hit deep. You had known how much he loved the baby. But hearing him say that he loved you—all of you, changes and insecurities and all—was something else entirely.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Eddie continued, his lips brushing against your temple as he kissed your skin softly. “I’m right here, with you, always.”

You pressed your face against his chest then, not saying anything for a long moment, just feeling the rise and fall of his breath. Eddie wrapped his arms tighter around you, pulling you closer, as if to emphasize his words.

“You’ve got this, baby. You’ve always had this. You’re not alone.”

You closed your eyes, taking in the sound of his steady heartbeat. You knew he meant it. And in that moment, you realized that, while it was okay to feel uncertain and vulnerable, you had something—someone—who made it easier. Eddie had always been your rock. He always would be.

“I love you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but Eddie heard it, as if the words were a promise that everything would be okay.

He kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a moment before he answered.

“I love you more than anything.”

The silence between you both felt like a soft cocoon, a quiet assurance that you could take on whatever came next—together.

You sat there for a while, just holding each other, until the baby’s soft cry interrupted the peace. It wasn’t urgent, but Eddie immediately rose from the bed, moving with the same care as he always did when it came to his daughter.

“I’ve got her,” Eddie said, his voice gentle. “You stay right here. Get some rest.”

You watched him, your heart swelling as he carefully lifted the baby from her crib, holding her close to his chest. There was something so beautiful about the way Eddie interacted with your daughter. He was calm, nurturing, and oh-so-patient. Watching him with her made your heart overflow with a different kind of love.

As he cradled her in his arms, rocking her back and forth, you couldn’t help but smile.

Eddie caught your gaze, a mischievous glint in his eyes despite the tenderness of the moment. “I swear, I’m gonna make you fall in love with me all over again if you keep looking at me like that.”

You laughed softly, the sound light and carefree as you nodded. “Already did.”

Eddie smiled back at you, but it wasn’t just a smile. It was the kind of smile that spoke of a deep, unshakeable connection—the kind that only grew stronger with time.

As you watched him with your daughter, you realized something: You had everything you needed. Your body might not feel like it used to, and you might have moments of doubt, but Eddie was right there by your side. And that was all that mattered.

Together, the three of you were unstoppable. And maybe, just maybe, that was the most beautiful thing of all.

[melrosing]

MATE I have a feeling I am so late to this but what happened to your job!

lmao! so much! but I don’t have it anymore! ok you didn’t ask for the full story lmao but im always in the mood for venting lately so the full tale under the cut on What Happened With My Job

so without getting into detail they have been absolute asses all year!! like with each other the women in my team are like Bosom Pals but apart from a handful of pleasant people they just have no time for me lol it’s very cliquey??

anyway. we had some really difficult clients in the Spring who were ready to throw in the towel at every stage of our work process bc it was unfamiliar territory for them. I was leading the project but really struggling to meet their insane expectations like it was HUNDREDS of emails a day from like 8AM to 8PM and their ‘head of’ sometimes swearing at me on calls with a dozen other people and thinking I can work magic and get [MAJOR CELEBRITY] involved in a thing for them when objectively I can’t and just scream. anyway my directors get really uneasy because this is a big client and they don’t want them getting scared off so when the client starts reaching a crescendo of frustration they fully just scapegoat me right at the end of the campaign (at which point our results are great! lmao) and say it will be Dealt With

around the same time I start to realise that the business is failing and my ‘specialist position’ is typically the first kind to go and that COINCIDENTALLY they are on my ass day after day trying to insist im not meeting their ‘standards’ and genuinely making up the most insane reasons why not (like I know I’d be biased saying this but SERIOUSLY) so im like ohhh right. I see where this is going

THEN my dad gets goddamn incurable brain cancer and my whole life falls apart. and they suddenly have to be like ‘oh no. I am sorry this has happened. oh dear.’ I’m off two weeks having a complete mental breakdown until im kindly reminded that cough I’ve almost used up my statutory days of compassionate leave! but per company guidelines they do have to manage my workload whilst i er. struggle indefinitely w the emotional burden?? so my capacity is thus reduced and man you can tell they’re not thrilled about it

so they basically check in every Friday for a month saying ‘hope everything is ok can you take on more work yet’ CONSPICUOUSLY never asking how anything is going with dad (like when I first logged back in I had a catch up with my line manager and kind of tremulously started talking about what had happened and she literally said ‘it’s ok you don’t need to tell me the details’)

THEN I get GASTROENTERITIS 💃🏻 god knows how. but it’s a bad one and I physically can’t eat for a week man I eat like a banana a day and even that makes me sick lol. but whatever the first day I phone in and tell my director im not well. she’s like ‘WELL I ACTUALLY HAVE SO MUCH TO MANAGE RIGHT NOW SO THIS REALLY ISN’T HELPFUL LIKE I GET YOU CAN’T HELP BEING SICK BUT I REALLY NEED TO BE ABLE TO RELY ON MY TEAM TO SUPPORT COS WE HAVE A LOT COMING UP’ (I’m not even kidding)

so on the third day I log back in bc I feel like I need to just push through it but oh no im still vomiting my guts out so I message the same director ‘look I think maybe. I am still sick’ and she says NOTHING in response till I suddenly get a text from my LINE MANAGER saying ‘Hi. X says you say you still don’t feel well. We understand it’s food poisoning. That usually only lasts 24 hours’. LIKE??? apparently with all the compassionate leave I’d had to take, the sick leave was just too much for them to bear lmao so i got myself a goddamn doctor’s note and have to announce every day for the rest of that week ‘I’m still not well sorry’ (they never ever reply)

Then finally I recover and I log back in and my director doesn’t ask me how I am or anything literally just says ‘WELL let’s get straight to business’ and explains the status of everything at me for 20 mins going on about how stressful it all is.

And then an hour later I get a surprise call from my head of department telling me unforch they’re making me redundant. can’t be helped. understand this is a bad time for you personally. (said head of department has never addressed what bad thing is happening personally rn). and im in shock. till i figure that what with my dad this is probably an appalling time to make up some performance based reason to fire me so this was their only option

and then finally I see the paperwork and realise severance pay is a third of my annual salary. so i promptly get over it, log out halfway through the month whilst still being paid for my time till the end of it, and NOT ONE of those fuckers has even reached out to say goodbye in all that time but god knows I never want to hear from them again so?? fuck it! i told HR everything anyway I was like look I don’t want to take formal action but?? I think you should know.

and now im just gonna chill for Christmas w my dad and my fam and my pals and my cats and do my weird asoiaf shit on tumblr I guess lol. so there we go that’s what happened!!!!

tl;dr got made redundant lol

[quietwingsinthesky]

the last unicorn post from earlier has me thinking about the master. that yana is still in there, you know? is still someone he was, if even for a brief flash across the life of a time lord. there’s no way to unlive that life. there are ways to twist it later, sure, to make utopia into hell on earth. but the life was lived. in much the same way that the doctor can remember, can feel, the love he held onto as john smith even as that life is ripped out of his hands. the doctor choose denial and then grief and then to shutter it all away. and so john smith died, and so professor yana died, and the doctor and the master live on. the doctor has done this before, and he lives in orbit around humanity, trying to keep the best parts of them and hold them deep enough to take root (which he can pretend he gets to choose, as a time lord. as a human, it all floods in and can’t be dug back out.) but what about the master, right?

to borrow a turn of phrase: i think there are two time lords left in the universe, and they both learned how to regret.

[iliveinprocrasti-nationn]

one thing abt being disabled/chronically ill that some people don’t get is that sometimes body maintenance that ensures you have the absolute minimum amount of function can also be something that takes away a lot of control and autonomy. you can argue till the cows come home that making those decisions to try and help yourself (or realistically to try to make sure things aren’t worse than they already are) is something that exhibits control and autonomy and stuff, but they can be so limiting in practice because they’re things that take up so much time but have to be done to do anything else

[yellobb]

If things could stop going in exactly the wrong wrong direction that would be excellent

[dreamings-free]

Hi, do you know if this true? https://www.tumblr.com/awesomefringey/736084928800964608/hmmm-do-you-know-anything-about-this-some-says?source=share

hmm I don’t know.. just like op of that post, I have no knowledge of who he did or didn’t (un)follow. and most of louis’ band and management still follow him.. but I agree it is weird how he seems to have left very suddenly. I think the last time we saw him with louis was lisbon.. and then he was just.. not there for the rest of europe? he wasn’t even there for louis’ huge milestone moments on the uk tour leg which seemed very strange after how long they’ve been working together 🙁

[hazlelnoot]

…

[happy10thousandyears]

Con thoughts

[butiknowiloatheyou]

[micamicster]

I just am obsessed with any story that’s about people who love each other but cannot do justice to that love because they have a duty to something else first. That there is something else fundamental and demanding that they must choose over love every time. To be forced to choose one irreplaceable thing over another etc etc

[itspileofgoodthings]

there is a point at which using your persona to make money simply invalidates any sincerity you try to put into it.

[thnksfrthmmrs]