#I will never ever be good enough and it fucking hurts

[takes1]

i would LOVE to know which haikyuu boys would be brat tamers… and perhaps their favorite kind of punishments? (overstim, spanking, denial, paddling, etc) :333

basically just an s/o who sasses them all the time, loves to tease and talk back, and loves punishment hehe :3

haikyuu brat taming headcanons (nsfw)

loved this idea! just didn't have the format for when it got requested, then it got buried. tbh kuroo was the hardest to place out of all the names!!

warnings. heavy nsfw. minors DNI

characters. bokuto, nishinoya, oikawa, suga, kuroo, shohei, osamu, tendou, kentarou, daichi, atsumu, mattsun, iwa, tsukki, suna, sakusa, kenma, kageyama, aone, asahi, ushijima, lev, koganegawa, hinata, akaashi, yamaguchi details. lots of kink discussion. (implied mutual understanding, consent, and communication) aged up characters.

links. my masterlist. my ao3. more haikyuu. my imagines. requests open.

spoils you in and out of the bedroom. this guy has too much love in his heart to ever catch a stern tone with you, and especially doesn't like to use his strength against you. that being said-- he will hold you down after your fourth orgasm, as you squirm and tremble, cursing at him that it's too much- you can't take it- and the like. he still kisses you through it, call you his pretty girl, but it doesn't change the fact that you do need to learn some manners. you love that you can never make him upset, and learn to love his endurance, the way he grins and baby-talks you through your tears, because he finds it so cute that you always think you can get away with being such a brat. (BOKUTO, OIKAWA, kuroo, suga, nishinoya)

bondage, blindfolding, restriction. something about robbing you of a sense after you act up has no other match. you're so confident until your hands are tied, useless, behind your back or above your head. he can leave you like that for as long as it takes for you to apologize, or admit that you're wrong. it's usually paired with some type of slow, and cruel play that keeps you just stimulated enough to enjoy it, before he steals it back. it's the most absolute reminder of control and dominance; he's the type to kiss you through a long, and difficult type of tie, because you're too pretty not to taste while he's rendering your arms at your sides, or restricting how much you can breathe. probably the most patient, and twisted, form of punishment. (SHOHEI, osamu, TENDOU, kentarou, AKAASHI)

spanking, striking. loves seeing a clear print of his oversized hand across your skin. he knows you love it, too. that's why you keep pulling petty bullshit to get bent over his knee again, and again, and again. tears might be pricking your eyes, you might yelp- but you can't help but look back, a bitten back smile once the sharp pain becomes a lasting sting. you'll bite him just to get a little lovetap across your face, because you love watching his surprise shift rapidly into this possessive, corrective arousal. it gives you a sense of connection beyond what kissing, or even sex, can give. because, really, who else is going to look at you like that, all preoccupied, full of lust, but secretly attentive, after they hurt you? (DAICHI, ATSUMU, mattsun, IWA)

denial is his game. he takes his time already, keeping you on your toes, frustrated and needy-- he's ultra gentle despite his ability and disposition, never wanting to let you get a true taste of what he can give you if it isn't earned. time with him is filled with baited breath, muffled, almost-there whines, and shaky fingers that stay clenched, only to yourself. don't think he doesn't notice it, just because it isn't explicit. that's his purpose. to read you, analyze you, like a slowburn, steamy novel. he can fuck you so good, but he won't. he wants you to be desperate. be a good girl first, then he'll let you cum. (TSUKKI, suna, sakusa, KENMA, kageyama)

not much of a 'tamer.' while usually opting for a softer, guiding vibe in the bedroom, if provoked enough, he will not just roll over. when he understands what you're trying to do -get a rise out of him- he wears a stern squeeze in his brow. he's all focused on your smile, calculating, like you've just spoken another language. he wouldn't strike you, and doesn't enjoy giving verbal harassment, because when would he ever need to learn those skills? he's gigantic and intimidating. all he needs to do is remind you that you probably shouldn't be barking up the wrong tree. a big, strong hand squeezes around your throat, he finds just the right position to show you that you can't move under him, and a whisper, asking you, "what did you just say?" that's all you need to be subdued. (AONE, ASAHI, ushijima)

he would hardly know what to do with you. the idea of domination/submission, brats/brat tamers probably gets him hard, but there's not enough blood to share between his brain cells and his dick to play around with you the way that you're trying to instigate. he would need to be taught how to fill that role long before you could get what you wanted out of him. (LEV, KOGANEGAWA, hinata, yamaguchi)

notes. if the name is in caps, then i felt like their category is 100% in my brain. if the name just lowercase, then i felt like they could easily be in another one too. rlly liked writing this!

taglist. @integers @paradoxicalwritings @yuchacco @megapteraurelia

links. my masterlist. requests open.

[pleasestophurtingmek]

But I’m supposed to believe you’re not a hoe? And you wanna sit here and call me a pervert you’re literally a sick fuck. That entertains anything that comes your way sexually . It’s crazy 2 me how u can do me so dirty when all I’ve ever done, was do right and love you . I slapped tf out of you one time and you beat the fuck out of me the whole time b4 it. I don’t ever wanna go through that again. You don’t understand what it felt like to be me n the situation. I know you know what it felt like to be you baby and I know that u was hurt the most & felt helpless and scared because the person who is supposed to be protecting you is hurting you. But I was the person that had to sit there and stand alone and understand everything I’d ever done wrong 2 u. for months and months even after you left me.and how fucked up the whole situation was.there’s not been one day since the day I met you that I haven’t went longer than 15 minutes without thinking about you. I don’t think you understand how much you run through my fucking head. I’ve never been like this with anybody’s soul on this planet in my entire life. What I have with you will never be re-created because I know it was meant to be forever . It’s just getting you to understand that and getting to change your ways long enough for you to actually talk to one person (me) so you can see how much I’ve always loved you. You’ve always been my ride or die. From the second I pulled up to your apartment and I told you to get in this truck and park it for me because I didn’t think I knew I couldn’t fit. I clicked with you right then. Cause This girl is funny as fuck. She’s so cute and bossy, you was trying to tell me you could park this truck cause I was taking to long to park and it started raining. And you knowing damn good and well u don’t know what it’s like to drive this big ass school bus. I made you learn your lesson. I told you to get up in this truck and park it for me. Guess what you did ?😂😂 you figured out this man actually knows how to drive a truck. And you jumped up in that truck and had to get right back out 🤷‍♂️🤣😂 i don’t get y u act like u want one person when you’ve never stopped entertaining less than 3 people the entire time you’ve been with me ???? It’s the fact that you sit here and paint this picture of this beautiful woman who has been nothing but hurt her whole life and wants to be loved by one person, but can’t never focus and slow down and understand that one person‘s love they have for her. It’s confusing because you sit here and expect me to believe that you’re not a hoe but yet you entertain two other guys the entire time you’ve been with me … literally you’re posting stuff about wanting Patrick to hug you so soft that you melt? So please tell me why the fuck you would ever want to be held by somebody that you don’t even find sexually attractive.??? It’s the lies, bro. You wanna know why you can never be happy. This is why you can never be honest.. I get it. You’ve done a bunch of fucked up shit it’s hard to fucking say shit out loud Cause most of the time that shit is embarrassing when you fuck up and do stupid shit like that. But all I’m asking you is to just focus on me and actually try to understand how much I love you. When can u ever tell me the truth? Like if you say you don’t love me you don’t wanna be with me. Why the fuck not just tell me the truth. So everyone can try to move on and understand what we’ve done to each other. I’m tired of u lying to me acting like you haven’t been cheating on me and talking to other people the whole time you’ve been with me…. And is honestly kind of funny and weird that you made patrick sit here and type some weird ass shit about y’all supposedly not never doing anything. And about how it was a sole purpose to meet each other.. for what motherfucker?? she’s been dating me for two years. Why the fuck do you think you need to get to know her??…. When you told me that he told you he was only coming there 4 his birthday. He was never even supposed to come and c you. The things you say don’t make sense.

by anonymous

[blackdykegirlblogger]

a/n: in honor of this ask . could be interpreted as g!p or strap, whatever gets you wetter.

thinking about cowboy!abby who loves her rope almost as much as she loves you. she got it when she was just a little girl, gifted from her father on his deathbed, and it's been on her hip ever since. it's good for a lot of things: wrangling horses, showing off at the rodeo on friday nights, or....

having it looped tight around your neck, cutting off your air supply as she bounced you on her cock from behind, one leg propped up on the bed for extra leverage. it's quite the sight, your ass up in the air as your head is shoved in the pillows, the strain from the nylon cutting into you in the most pleasurable way. the way the plush of your ass bounced against the expanse of her stomach was hypnotizing, almost enough to make the cowboy drool. the room smelled like pure sex and she breathed it in, the scent giving her a twisted motivation to keep drilling you stupid.

you could feel your brain slowly leaking out of your cunt as you pulsed around her cock. abby wrapped the excess rope tight around her hand before giving it a sharp pull, yanking you up suddenly as her cock slid even deeper inside your icky cunt. you tried your hardest to think actual sentences, but the grip around your throat and her tip on your cervix made it close to impossible. your hands curled into the headboards, and the feel of your nails scraping against the wood served as your slight tether to reality. your head felt so heavy and the ringing in your ears got louder by the second.

"well, ain't that somethin’? you’re usually runnin’ that mouth a mile a minute. what’s the matter, hmm? don’tcha wanna tell daddy just how good it feels?"

she saw the dazed look in your eyes, grinned at the way they crossed ever so slightly as her balls grazed your clit with every movement. "go on now, tell me how it feels." she pistoned her hips even faster, and you swear you saw god. he was definitely laughing at you.

"s-so...go-ood."

your voice came out in a ragged whisper that you've never even heard before. shit, eating was going to be a pain for the rest of the week. but you loved it, as if abby somehow couldn't tell by the way your juices coated her completely, leaving a gooey white ring all along her base. if you were lucky, she'd make you lick it up afterwards, something to soothe your throat as an apology for making her pretty girl hurt so much.

"c’mon now, mama, i know you can do better than that."

"...ca-can't talk d-ddady."

you could feel her annoyance behind you, dropping you abruptly and pressing your face back into the mattress, one hand still wrapped around your binds. "always with the damn excuses. when i say talk, you best start talkin’."

you felt the telltale signs of unconsciousness creeping up on you, because abby suddenly sounded like she was miles away and the room was floating and-

oh shit. oh shit oh shit oh-

out of nowhere, you felt the rope loosen, and you don't think you've ever taken a bigger gulp of air as you came around her length, harshly. your senses came rushing back to you in a hot flash, and the overstimulation became too much to bear as you thrashed in her arms. you were boneless and delirious and....when the hell did you start sticking your tongue out? when did your chin get covered in spit? god, this was so fucking embarrassing.

you snapped out of your daze when you heard abby chuckle behind you, the sound teasing and slightly dark.

"welcome on back to planet earth, darlin'."

[vacationbimboschool]

Why’d you only ever call me when you’re high?

ˏˋ°•*—☏ Rafe x reader

Content below: Phone sex, masturbation, dirty talking, mention of drugs, smut all the way, 18+ MDNI

Words: 962

It was 3 a.m. when your phone rang.

Rubbing your eyes, still half-asleep, you reached for it without checking the caller ID.

"Hey, baby," a husky voice murmured on the other end.

You knew instantly—it was Rafe. And you knew why he was calling. He had been using again. He knew you hated it, but life weighed heavy on him sometimes.

"Rafe? What could you possibly need at this hour?" you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration. But your annoyance faded as you caught the sound of heavy breathing.

Maybe he was hurt. Maybe he needed you.

And in a way, he did.

"Please," Rafe said, "I just want to hear your voice."

"Rafe, I'm trying to sleep. I don't want to do this right now. I have to get up early and go to work tomorrow, and—"

"Come on, babe. I've been waiting all night."

He wasn't asking anymore. You could tell by the tone of his voice, the way his breathing was starting to deepen.

You paused, debating whether you should just hang up and try to go back to sleep. But the longer you thought about it, the more the idea excited you.

You hadn't seen Rafe in a while, not since his parents kicked him out. You were the one who had talked to him most recently, the one who had been there for him.

"Fine," you said, sitting up and leaning against the headboard, "But only if you tell me what you're wearing."

You heard the rustling of fabric.

"Black briefs and a white t-shirt. You?"

"An oversized band tee with a pair of black panties."

You heard him exhale, the sound making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

"Are you touching yourself yet?" he asked, his voice thick.

"No. Are you?"

"Just getting started." He said letting out a low groan.

You bit your lip. He had never sounded so sexy.

"Do it again."

He let out a shaky breath, followed by a soft groan.

"I wish it was your hand. Your lips."

"Tell me what you would do if I were there."

"I'd kiss every inch of you."

"And what else would you do?"

"I'd run my fingers through your hair, tug it just hard enough to make you moan."

Your eyes closed. Your own heartbeat quickened. You were picturing him, lying in his bed, his hand inside his briefs, his hair a mess from running his fingers through it.

You felt heat rise in your cheeks.

"And then what?"

"Then, I'd kiss your neck. I'd bite and suck and lick. I'd leave hickeys. I'd mark you as mine."

His voice was rough, ragged. You could tell he was getting close.

"Keep going," you whispered, reaching down and slipping your hand into your panties. You were already wet.

"And then, I'd take off your shirt, and I'd kneel between your legs. I'd take off your pants and kiss every part of you, your stomach, your thighs. I'd put my mouth on you, feel your hands in my hair. And then, I'd eat you out."

His voice was deep, gravelly, and his words sent shivers up your spine.

"Mmh... Rafe," you moaned.

"That's it, baby, get yourself all ready for me," Rafe rasped. You could hear him fumbling with something, and then a soft hissing noise, and then—

"Fuck..." Rafe hissed.

He was pumping himself, and you could hear every stroke over the phone.

You gasped softly as you circled your clit, picturing his gorgeous cock. You could imagine him sprawled out on his bed, his eyes fluttering closed.

"That's my good girl, keep playing with that pretty pussy," Rafe muttered, his voice low.

You were getting off on his words alone, and the slick sounds of him stroking his dick.

"Now slide a finger inside. That's what I'd be doing, baby, sliding into your hot cunt. I want to hear you," Rafe growled, his breath hitching as he pumped his cock.

You slid a finger inside, moaning softly as you began to imagine Rafe was there with you, his hand between your thighs, his eyes burning into yours.

"Good girl. I want you to cum for me, sweetheart. Let me hear how good it feels," Rafe said, his voice strained.

You cried out as you rubbed your clit faster, pushing a second finger inside. "Rafe, fuck, it's so good. I wish it was you."

"It's me, baby. I'm right there, fucking you with my fingers. You feel so tight, so wet around my hand."

"Keep talking."

"I'd slide two fingers inside you. I'd thrust them in and out, curl them inside you, make you cum. And then, after you've finished, I'd climb on top of you and fuck you until you can't walk."

You were rubbing yourself even faster now. His voice was like silk on your ears, his words like electricity on your skin.

"Oh God, Rafe," you breathed.

"Come for me, baby."

You arched your back, gasping and moaning. You were so close. "Oh, god, Rafe"

“Let go for me, sweetheart," Rafe said, his words muffled.

The tension broke, and you came hard, crying out his name.

"Fuck, yes, I'm coming too, baby," Rafe moaned, and you heard him spurt onto his stomach, his chest. You imagined the look of pleasure on his face as he stroked himself through his orgasm.

You both lay in silence for a few minutes, catching your breath.

"So, uh... What was that all about?" you asked, still a little dazed.

"Just wanted to hear your voice. You sounded so beautiful when you came," Rafe murmured.

You couldn't help but smile. "Well, maybe next time, we can meet up and you can hear it in person."

"Mm, I'd like that."

[starkerobsession]

I’ve said something like this before but I love the idea that when Peter is nervous, he’s not as in control of his powers. Specifically his ability to stick and unstick to things. And who makes him the most nervous? Tony Stark.

When Tony first takes Peter’s hand, Peter’s nerves are through the roof and when it’s time to let go of his hand, Peter is mortified to find that he can’t. He’s stuck to Tony. The embarrassment only makes it worse. It takes him a good ten minutes to compose himself before he finally unsticks. Tony finds it adorable.

Becomes smutty here:

He starts to get it under control, that is until the first time he gets to touch Tony’s dick. Peter is down on his knees with Tony’s hard dick inches from his face. He has one hand rested on Tonys leg and then he hesitantly wraps his hand around Tony’s cock. Tony’s murmuring sweet praises to him and Peter is super horny and super nervous, and he’s about to start stroking when he realises he can’t. His hand is stuck. In fact both hands are stuck. He’s stuck kneeling in front of Tony’s cock, holding onto it like a slut. He’s sweating as he looks up at Tony in shame. It takes Tony a minute to realise what’s happened. To be honest, the position they’re in, Peter’s warm hands on him and the shameful look on his face makes Tony even more horny.

“What’s going to relax you?” Tony asks him. “You want me to make you cum?”

“It- it might work but I… how? I can’t even move my hands…”

“Don’t you worry about that, Kid,” Tony smirks as he uses his own hands to push Peter’s head closer to his cock. “Open up.”

Peter opens his mouth and lets Tony’s dick slide inside. God it feels good. He can’t even take Tony’s full length in his mouth because his own hand is in the way, but Tony’s got his fingers tangled in Peter’s hair and is forcing the boy to make do with what he’s got. Can he really cum from this? From sucking Tony off? Probably. His own dick is extremely hard right now. Everything about this situation is making him aroused. But he’s never cum untouched before. He doesn’t think about it.

“Look at me while you suck me off, I want eye-to-eye contact, you got me? Good boy. There you go. God, look how beautiful you look. You’ve never looked prettier than you do right now, with your pretty lips wrapped around just the tip of my dick. You like that, don’t you, baby? Hmm? Didn’t hear you. Do you like that?”

Peter is becoming a mess with Tony’s words. He nods desperately and moans around Tony’s cock, trying to tell him “yes”.

“Mm, good. I’m glad you like it. You’re making daddy really happy right now, you know that? You’re such a good boy. Sucking daddy’s cock like you were born for this. You’re making me feel so good, Kid. Fuck. You want to taste how good you make me feel?”

Peter feels like he’s going to cum any second. He moans against Tony’s dick again and nods up at Tony. Within seconds, he feels Tony’s grip tighten on his head as he holds Peter in place and he feels his mouth fill up with Tony’s cum. He doesn’t dare break eye contact. If staring up at Tony while he literally cums in his mouth isn’t enough, Tony murmurs “swallow it all, Kiddo”, and Peter does as he’s told while he feels himself cum untouched in his pants. It’s all too much for him. He’s just an inexperienced kid, and this is just so good, and his orgasm is probably the most intense orgasm he’s ever had.

After a moment, Tony pulls Peter back off his cock, and Peter breathes out, trying to compose himself.

“So did my baby boy cum?”

Peter blushes hard and nods. “Yeah. Yes. I- uh. Thank you.”

“Thank you. Did that do the trick? Are you relaxed now?”

Peter tries to let go of Tony and finally his hands are working properly again. He’s not sticky. He lets out a relieved laugh and stands up shakily. His knees hurt from being on the floor for so long. He smiles sheepishly at Tony.

“Have you got any spare clothes for me to wear? I kinda- I made a mess.”

Tony smirks, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on Peter’s sweaty forehead. “I think that can be arranged. Come on, Kid.”

[ninyard]

just because i feel a little cuckoo crazy about Jeremy rn i want to go back to chapter 15 again because i have so much nonsensical rambling left to say

Just him. Fierce, strong, positive and powerful Jeremy. Perfect Jeremy. he who can do no fucking wrong. Perfect athlete. Star player. and a disappointing cigarette between his lips. Did he start to smoke as a rebellious teenager? and him being conscious enough so the smoke doesn’t blow back at Jean.

Redemption, perhaps. There was more to it and Jean KNEW it. He’s trying so hard to be a good person, to make up for his mistakes. His fall from grace before he’d even gotten there. This stain on his reputation that he tries so hard to be different from.

Jean didn’t elaborate and Jeremy had never liked him more. This grief is so fucking rough. It’s not like Andrew killing his mom to protect Aaron. It’s not like finding out Grayson was killed to keep Jean safe. No motive, no reason, only Jeremy’s brother being let down by him when all he needed in that moment was someone there for him. And that’s all Jeremy sees - a moment where he failed his brother. This was not supposed to happen, and this was his fault, and this is something he can never, ever change.

Not you! Not like that! Cat is so healing for Jean. Touch and love. The way she so casually kisses his palm and all he’s knows in violence but he can still say no, not you, this isn’t the life that was ever supposed to touch you. It’s all he’s known and STILL he knows it’s not what he deserved. Because he KNOWS that it never worked, it was never meant to work, it was just cruel and unjust and he could never do that to someone he loves. Someone who shows him love like she does.

Who’d question it once USC got involved? They signed you, Jeremy, the moment your brother fucking died because you were too busy getting off to save him, reduced down to you being a whore and that’s it. And look how hard he tries to be known for something different. But a whore and a slut is all he’ll be known for. It’s sex, and Fraser likes to be mean and rough, but fuck, how did he feel seeing WHORE written all over Jean’s notebooks? When Annalise said he was ending the way he started, when he read the rumours and knew to see past them because at some point in his life that’s all he was known for, too. Is he against the idea of Jean as much as Jean is, because he knows his reputation comes with their relationship as much as Jean’s does?

This hurt, this hurt a lot. Imagine having seen your friend at this low point in his life, drunk and high out of his mind, making bad decisions and becoming a bad person. And now he’s reliving trauma he hasn’t been through in four years and he leaves for a few hours and comes back smelling like alcohol and bruised up from bad decisions with a bad person. She had every right to be concerned. Not a day like today. Not after everything.

I SET THE PRECEDENT. It’s not “these rumours are incessant because people have always believed them” it’s “these rumours aren’t going away because of course they must be true. Their captain is a slut, and look at where his fucked up decisions got him. Of course they’d sign another one”. He takes so much blame and fault and so much onto his own back because he feels like he deserves it. He needs redemption, right? He needs to do something good to make up for the bad. And he can’t fight back. There’s nothing he can do except just take it.

“They are not your partners”. Because Jean was fucking betrayed and destroyed and hurt by his partner. it’s not partner meaning hook up or date, it’s partner as in protector, as in the one to keep you safe, as in the one by your side. Your failures are my failures. And Jean being so worried after seeing Jeremy in such a state earlier thinking he’s seen this before, he knows what he’s looking at. Jean, who asked “is cody safe?”. But Jeremy still lying so easily because he can’t tell Jean that the violence in sex is… acceptable to him? Normal? Is it? or is he also just used to heavy hands and finishing with bruises?

This feels like a crumbling of Jeremy’s facade, i think. Like everything he’s been portraying himself as, the person he’s been trying so hard to be, is going to be ruined for Jean in a moment because he asks him about that part of his life. About the coke. It’s easier for him to say he partied than it is to say he destroyed himself mentally and physically for the sake of what, escape? A break? And now Jean, who’s supposed to see him as this unbreakable character in his life, his unmoving and indestructible partner, is going to see through his skin and bones for what he’s always seen himself as; an addict, a slut, a disappointment. A terrible brother. A bad influence. It’s the moment his facade fucking cracks in two and it’s so necessary, it’s so fucking late for his truth to come out, and he’s laying himself bare in front of Jean who needs to see this, hear this, more than anyone else.

[raikirikiri]

anbu tattoos remain one of my favorite things in naruto purely because they’re like a sign of ownership. anbu ninja are tools moreso than than the normal shinobi of their village. so much so that the village marks them with a signature that everyone recognizes. and even when that anbu—that tool—is allowed to rest, manages to leave anbu ranks, or dies, they remain branded by the village that owns them. they don’t truly escape, they can always be called on again because a tool does not have feelings, it does not have choices, it’s only made to be utilized by those who know how to wield it.

anyway. anbu is so fucked up and minato…i love minato but the illusion that he’s a pure little guy who’s a wife guy and a little shy nerd is crazy. he saw kakashi, someone he’s seen grow up, someone he’s guided and taught, some he’s supposed to care for. and he thought, ah yes, i need to keep you close to me. how best to do it? perfect! you are now forever marked as an asset to me and the village! and he does it with what he assumes to be love in his heart.

and i’m not saying this is a good or a bad thing, the morality of minato’s choices within the context of the story is nothing entirely out of the ordinary, but the way in which he’s portrayed, how we see him and his demeanor… it’s all very much a sweet facade to mask what’s hidden underneath. he’s twisted and calculated and ugh, i love him. because he genuinely thinks he’s doing the best thing he can by kakashi and also by the village. kakashi is talented. he has a sharingan and he’s vulnerable. of course minato wants to help but he also sees an opportunity and he strikes. now they have kakashi of the sharingan in their highest ranks, and he won’t ever be able to escape the duty instilled in him. not unless he becomes a nukenin but everyone knows by that point that kakashi is so indoctrinated, the thought of leaving never crosses his mind.

and then minato dies. and kakashi is still a tool. his feelings should not affect his use. but they do. and for the first time…

kakashi of the sharingan, anbu hound, thinks maybe… leaving the village might be a good idea. if not to get away from everything. he can’t be a good tool if he’s rusty and broken. he can fix himself, he can he can. he doesn’t want to keep breaking over and over again. it hurts it hurts it hurts and the village never puts him back together the right way and for once he just wants to feel whole.

so when kakashi disappears, it’s quiet. it’s full of guilt. ashy tongue, scratchy throat, tears in his eye, and aches in his joints. but he leaves because he needs to be whole to be useful again. but it hurts. it’s not right. he’s not supposed to feel this way. he’s a tool he’s a tool he’s a tool. a weapon. an extension of the village’s wide reach. he almost can’t bear it. he throws up bile all night, on the verge of returning and getting on his knees and begging for forgiveness. he didn’t mean it, he’s sorry he just wants to be better. to feel better.

he doesn’t return that night if only because he can’t make himself get up. his body weak and feverish. he’ll go back the next day.

but he doesnt. he feels better the morning after. only a little bit but it’s enough. maybe he can take care of himself. he can mend his wounds, tighten the loose screws, clean off the rust and dirt. he can do it.

and for every day he stays away, he feels better. more whole. he’s still a shinobi. he does odd jobs when he can but mostly, he takes to helping out villages in need. he likes to help out on different farms, it feels right to him, like something in his muscle memory. he’ll also help with construction if needed, anything that uses his hands in a thoughtful, meaningful manner is good. it makes him feel good.

he likes being a shinobi, he thinks. it doesn’t feel quite right when he says that anymore. but he loves the way it feels when he builds something instead of destroying it. when he uses chakra to make the kids in all the villages he visits eyes light up with joy and wonder. he loves using katon for fires that create. he loves it he loves it he loves it.

it takes time to learn what he’s feeling, and the ever remaining guilt and shame linger in his chest when he remembers that’s he’s supposed to just be a tool and he has to return back to his wielder at some point. but for a long time, years even, kakashi lets himself be something else. something that feels close to human and he thinks he can put off going home a little longer.

[jj-mybnk]

Some Protector - J.J. Maybank

Pairing: JJ Maybank x ex!Reader

A/N- Hi! This is my first fic ever, so please excuse the lack of experience and any mistakes. I've been reading so many fics since the end of S4, so I decided I'd give this a shot lol. Inspired by the song "Some Protector" by Role Model. I actually cannot stop listening to it, and highly recommend you also listen while reading.

Summary- JJ let you go because he thought it was the right thing to do—because he thought you deserved better. Five months later, he watches from across the bar as you smile at someone else, looking like you finally got it. He should be happy for you. He wants to be happy for you. But all he can think about is September, the way you looked at him across the fire, and the words he should’ve said before he lost you for good.

Word Count: Slightly over 1k

Warnings: Angst, some swearing, JJ in denial, too many what-ifs, and a love that lingers even when it’s over.

The neon buzz of the Wreck’s old beer sign flickered against the hazy summer night, casting a dull glow over the bar’s wooden patio. JJ sat at the far end, fingers wrapped around a half-empty beer bottle, watching the scene unfold like some twisted déjà vu.

It’s closing time, and I'm leaving You're holding on to someone new Are you still picking up the pieces? Am I still worried about you?

You were there.

You always had been.

Except now, you weren’t his.

You sat at a high-top table, your fingers laced with someone else’s. He was clean-cut, a little too polished for the Cut, but he made you laugh—JJ could hear it from where he sat, and that hurt more than anything. Because that laugh used to be his.

Holding on from a distance I'd never wanna intrude Does he love you any different? Am I still sounding like a fool?

His grip tightened around the bottle as he watched the guy place a kiss on your soft cheek. An action that seemed all too familiar to JJ. Was he treating you right? Was he looking at you like you were the best thing that ever happened to him? Was he protecting your heart in all the ways JJ had failed to?

The answer should have been simple. If you were happy, that should have been enough for him. But it wasn’t.

Why, yes I am, and I always will Yes I am, and I always will Yes I am, and I always will Be some protector Some protector to ya

And yet, he couldn’t stop thinking about how he used to be the one sitting across from you, tracing circles on your palm while you teased him about his wild plans. He couldn’t stop wondering if you still kept the hoodie he left in your car or if you still slept with the fan on because you hated silence. And much to his demise, he couldn't stop thinking about the damned night where it all came to an end.

“Am I guilty? Am I sorry? Do I miss you at the party?”

“Am I dragging this forever? Am I thinking 'bout September?”

JJ exhaled, the scent of salt and cheap whiskey heavy in the air. It had been five months since you ended things—three years of love and chaos slipping through his fingers because he couldn’t be the guy you needed. He was unintentionally, constantly putting you in harm's way. And when he wasn't doing that, he was abandoning you for days on end for expeditions with the Pouges, leaving you to wonder whether he was ever coming back. He had told you as much, standing in the sand at a bonfire in September, the flames flickering between you. The same bonfire you had gone to together every year, just days before what would’ve been your anniversary. He could still hear the crackle of the fire, the way the embers burned into the night sky like the last traces of what you had.

“I can’t do this anymore, JJ.”

Your voice had wavered, but you stood firm, arms wrapped around yourself as if shielding from the words you were about to say.

JJ had scoffed, kicking at the sand beneath his feet. “You think I don’t know that?”

You blinked at him, hurt flashing across your face. “Then why are you acting like this is a surprise?”

“Because it fucking hurts,” he snapped, voice thick with frustration. “Because I love you, and I don’t know how to be what you need.”

You shook your head, looking away as the fire crackled between you. “I don’t need you to be perfect, JJ. I just need you to stop pushing me away every time things get hard.”

He swallowed, jaw clenching as he struggled to find the right words, the right way to fix something that had been broken for far too long. “I think letting you go would be better than holding you back.”

Your breath hitched, but you smiled sadly, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “You were always the one holding yourself back, JJ.”

You had looked at him with eyes full of something—hurt, disappointment, maybe even understanding. And then you left. And he let you.

“Am I wrecking reputation while you’re making reservations?”

“Am I lying to my mother that someday I’ll find another?”

Pope nudged his arm, pulling him out of his head. “You’re staring.”

JJ scoffed. “So what?”

“So,” Pope shot him a look, “either go talk to her or stop torturing yourself.”

JJ took a long sip of his beer, shaking his head. “She looks happy, man. What am I supposed to do? Walk up and ruin that?”

Pope sighed. “You don’t have to ruin anything. Just say something. You still love her.”

JJ let out a dry laugh. “No, I don’t.”

Pope raised a brow. “Really?”

JJ shrugged, leaning back against the chair, feigning indifference. “I’ll find someone else. There’s always someone else.”

But even as the words left his mouth, he felt the lie burn in his throat. He could try to replace you with a hundred girls, a thousand nights of drunken distractions, but there would never be another you.

Pope studied him for a long moment, then shook his head. “You’re so full of shit.”

A flash of movement caught his eye—you getting up from your seat, heading toward the bar. Alone.

His chest tightened. This was his chance. To say something. Anything. But what would he even say? Hey, I still love you. Hey, I am so sorry. I should have never ended things. Hey, does he know you hate pickles on your burger? Hey, do you ever miss me the way I miss you?

You reached the bar, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, completely unaware of his presence and the war raging inside him.

JJ swallowed hard, setting his beer down.

(Am I guilty? Am I sorry?) (Do I miss you at the party?) Yes I am, and I always will (Am I dragging this forever? Am I thinking 'bout September?) Yes I am, and I always will, ah-ah, ah (Am I wrecking reputation while you're making reservations?) Yes I am, and I always will Be some protector Some protector

He stood, but then your new guy appeared behind you, sliding an arm around your waist. You turned into him, smiling up at him like he was your whole world.

And just like that, JJ sat back down.

He wasn’t your protector anymore.

[getstickbugdlol]

this is literally just a huge dump of feelings about the Everything

obviously this has fucking sucked (if you dont know what im talking about im talking about my ex's very serious affair and kicking him out of the house.) my whole world just got ripped out from under me and the one person i thought i could trust turned out to be a violent lying cheater. i never ever ever thought in a million years duncan would hit me. but i never thought hed cheat either so.

theres been a bit of relief, though - like he was soooo insistent we HAD to stay in nyc even though ive wanted to leave basically since i got here. and it wasnt even that i was opposed to nyc, i just wanted him to be committed to a life *with me* instead of me fitting well into his nyc life cause neither of us are from here. ive thought about what it would mean to never date a woman again, i thought about him not being somebody id want to raise a child with, etc etc. it's objectively good that i ended a relationship with a violent, entitled, lying, cheating, dumbass rich boy loser. now i can go wherever i want. i can do whatever i want.

however.

duncan was my first major relationship, i had never had a relationship that lasted longer than six months before i met him. he was the first person i slept with after being raped. first person i said i love you to. first person whose family i met and who met mine. this relationship was a huge fucking deal for me, it confronted a lot of fears i had about myself being fundamentally unlovable and difficult and now it's like....that was never true.

and yes, i have friends and i'm a well-liked person but we built this whole life together, and it wasn't enough for him. nobody's ever wanted to build a life with me, nobody's ever wanted me that close before and i have trouble thinking it will ever happen again. being well-liked is great but it's not the same as being loved. having a lot of friends isn't the same as being presented, cherished, folded into somebody's life, somebody saying "You have a space here."

all my friends are in long term relationships or getting married, why did everybody else get to find their person at 25 and i end up hurt and betrayed again? why do men treat me this way? whats wrong with me that i keep choosing them? why was i not worth building a life with?

there's nothing else i want from duncan. i never want to see him again. he's violent and entitled and he scares me. the fact he moved into an apartment on my same fucking street makes me paranoid. but why did he go along with this whole relationship, what was the point of lying and lying and lying to me when he knew that would be devastating to me. was that part of the thrill of it? idk maybe.

i have a lot of questions that are never going to have satisfying answers and my self esteem is really low rn, but it's not satisfying to hear anything. im in a lot of pain. im glad i have school to focus on, and that i can go anywhere because i think i probably will move - i literally have not had one year in nyc without some kind of earth shattering trauma. year 1, pandemic, year 2, discrimination at work, year 3, subway shooting, year 4, breakup #1, year 5, the final and worst breakup.

idk none of it makes sense. it is so antithetical to how i would behave. why the hell would he meet this other girl's family. what was lacking in me that he sought that out. sitting in the same bed as me in our hotel room in vienna, planning trips, while he was texting this other girl and lying to my face. he was talking to her about getting a cat, about moving in together. why would you do that. it doesnt make any sense.

i really think he deserves to lose all his money and have his ass thoroughly kicked but at the end of the day he still wasted 4 years of my life and proved all my fears about relationships true.

everybody is also acting like they all saw this coming and they didnt. ive had a lot of anger because ive felt at times that ive been guided to stay in this relationship because im always the person thats like girl dump him and a lot of people told me not to be too hasty with this but like those red flags were there day 1 and i saw them. and they were true.

it just doesnt make sense and idk how im going to move forward from this or what i did to deserve it while everybody else i know gets to be happy and supported

[xtinyslip]

"CHAINED? yes because i've experienced the feeling of being trapped so much that i can't get enough of it now?" that was ridiculous. it was and yet... she couldn't help but think of cooper, and the fact that if she'd let him go then joe would never have gotten to him. he'd still be here but no, even if that had... that hid chipped a little part of her away, she was going to do her best not to damned show it. "don't act like that's news to me? you were so distracted with your wife you forgot all about me down there. perhaps, the two of you really are made for each other and i never thought you were going to become the most selfish and ugly of us." there was a mixture of hurt and anger talking and it didn't tend to make the best mix, not that she cared right now. she would never have known he was about to bring up an autobiography and so she had no way of preparing herself against it. ugh, it HURT and she knew for the briefest of moments where she met his eyes that she'd shown it and... in the moment, the only saving grace was that it mattered to her more that he'd seen it than that it had actually had. "that would definitely have made you money, hm? but afraid my uncle has beaten you to it. well, he revealed all the juicy parts." OUCH, and her cover hadn't even been that good but OUCH. would he actually do that to her? exploit her like that? she wanted to look at him but now she couldn't, she refused. SCOFFING. "you admit it? the sex with her is about ME? you literally just said it yourself." hadn't he? that he couldn't wait to do it just to forget all about her again, because without that sex. what? oh, SHE KNEW WHAT. "and all that sex? shows just how much i'm on your mind." she would not let that drop, she couldn't because... there was a part of him that was right and she didn't want him to see it. he had ever single right to walk away from her, to leave her to her screwed up family and take the money and... the awful wife and just be... without all this shit. he had every right and that was terrifying. "and you just proved the point that you're out of your league and can't finish what you started. that's it isn't it? it's why you run to donna? FUCKING COWARD." shaking her head. "i wouldn't be so sure about that. a porsche? that sounds like it could be my style." unfolding her hand to reveal his car keys that she'd taken. "and you REALLY thought you were better at this than me?" she scoffed, dangling them out to him but just out of reach. @fcdcdmcmories

"NOPE, NOPE AND NOPE. YOU KNOW WHY THAT IS? BECAUSE YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT LOVE IS LIKE. YOU LIKE TO KEEP PEOPLE CHAINED. you talk about being chained but it's what you like to do everyone else. if people are not completely focused on you and tending to your every need, it doesn't work." bitter? yes, he was and right now, he was clenching his jaw so tightly that he felt as if his teeth were about to snap. this was her fault. HERS. "i told you. my name's parker. and came to you? please. i haven't thought about you in WEEKS. BEEN ALL TOO HAPPY WITH MY WIFE. which.. thank you, by the way. she may or may not be toying with the idea of writing a book about you. AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY, OF SORTS. FUN, HUH? and she even has an expert to fill in all the missing details." was that taking it to far? maybe, but she had caught him out of guard with her comment about the mixed signals and he wasn't about to show it and so, he went for the next best thing and yes, it was ALL that he could say, that he was sure could whip that smug smile off her face. for right now, that felt like a win. "that's fine. you're still under the impression that i care about what you think, which.. HONEY, I REALLY DON'T. YOU'RE MEANINGLESS TO ME." he laughed, actually laughed, as he shrugged and shook his head. "it does wonders for my mood and for hers. in fact, i can't wait to get home tonight and see her, so we can have the same usual mind-blowing sex and i can forget all about you again." in fact, he should have headed out the door the second that he had learned that she was here, but he hadn't and for some reason, he kept on playing this game. WHATEVER IT WAS. HE DIDN'T PARTICULARLY WANT TO KNOW. "that's what you are. desperate. because you know, deep down, that because you refused to take a leap of faith for me as i have done a thousand times for you, YOU LOST ME FOR GOOD AND THAT SCARES YOU, DOESN'T IT? THAT'S WHY YOU'RE SO DESPERATE AND ATTEMPTING TO DO WHATEVER THIS IS. PATHETIC." he should have been expecting it. truly, he had and yet, he still jumped as the win hit him. "you little-" great, now he was soaked to the bone and without anything to change into. this was fine. fine. he had t-shirts in the car and- "nice try. once again, you've proven two of my points. one," not losing eye contact with her, he threw his ruined shirt over his head, throwing it to the floor and remaining shirtless? yes. "you need to grow the hell up. two, pathetic. really. AS I SAID? NICE CHAT. LET'S DO IT AGAIN NEVER." he was going to take a bath, but.. for now, he settled on the couch again ; who cared about the wine? ; shirtless and turning on the tv. "i trust that you can see yourself out? COVERED IN WINE REALLY ISN'T YOUR STYLE. NOTHING IS, THESE DAYS." / @xtinyslip

[introvert-celeste]

Welp, I can safely say that October and Halloween have been ruined for me. I envy everyone who can actually look forward to the festivities because my heart is just not in it this year :/

[dukeofthomas]

why does every reconciliation fic go like this

[marclef]

about to get started on a long post so, to pass the time i'm dumping a few non-digital sketches i've made the past few months here.

mostly just ones that looked nice enough to post heh but all Fake Peppino (what a surprise) with a couple Eyhm cameos.

(KINDA BIG SO I'VE PUT IT UNDER A READMORE)

friends :) (IMAGES NOT RELATED)

IT'S IN REFERENCE TO THIS COMIC I SWEAR

and three actual colored ones. you can't tell my pens were dying in the last two don't worry.

.... ok images actually related this time.

THIS ONE ISN'T THOUGH I SWEAR SHE'LL BE FINE

(ok time to start working on the actual thing i'm making. it involves cats so. be prepared.)

[vaguely-concerned]

just going about my day idly contemplating how some of the ways hawke can interact with a romanced anders are not at all unlike how they interact with leandra (and a bit of carver too, especially with a purple hawke), and then thought about my hawke in the timeline where he romances anders and was hit straight in the face with 'was he ever actually in love, or was he just desperately trying to renegotiate with his mother's ghost in any way he could' and now i need to lie down. this is the power of dragon age 2

[invinciblerodent]

I don't really have time to play him more than like an hour every few days, but man, Marcus really is insufferably pretty. Half the time, I've got my finger glued to the screenshot button, lol.

His personality is slowly taking shape in my head too: so far, he's been a far kinder, more emotional person than the broody, analytical scholar I thought he was going to be (I'm leaning into the "arcane grief councilor, magic is not just engineering but also psychology/philosophy" angle a bit more, so he's approaching all from a place of emotion and analysis), and his softness is a choice that comes from a place of rigorous, painful self-awareness.

In his head, so far Marcus is kind of the king of compartmentalization: he's constantly picking through his own thoughts and feelings and slotting them away into neatly labeled boxes, while choosing which ones he'll let himself feel (and chastising himself for the rest), which then also translates to him being very cautious, guarded... maybe even somewhat cynical. He's keeping his distance in general (as one would probably expect from someone who has never much experienced a warm, emotionally fulfilling environment, and has not really been outside of an academic setting much).

I'm thinking that his personal arc is going to be based around his unspoken suspicions continuing to be confirmed over and over again in the worst ways, causing him to sort of recede more and more into himself, but it'll be the others daring to let their feelings be felt (with Neve forgiving him, and Bellara both relying on him in his field of expertise and dragging him out into the light with her exuberance) that's going to create some much-needed balance in the end.

I like to think that where Ver embodied the moniker of "Rook" from a place of strength and forthrightness (acting as Solas' foil in that way, as a leader), Marcus embodies it more from a literal sense: from being stuck, in the highest room of that (ivory) tower.

He's... probably more like Solas than either of them would like to admit, really.

[foreverxdaydreaming]

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