#and periods of adjustment in between

[marsixm]

no im not saying this is a unique experience no im not saying im uniquely worse off or whatever for this but its an interesting thing abt my life that i quite literally can never return to certain places from my past. like thats usually mostly a metaphor, or half true, but like for example the high school i went to was being remodeled as i went there. there are buildings i spent hours in ever day for years that just dont exist anymore, and it happened within like a year of leaving. the auditorium was even worse bc i first performed on that stage when i was like 4? its gone too. right before i moved out of my childhood home i had to move all the furniture around for a slapdash and disruptive remodel. everything is gutted and rearranged and looks different. id say barely it functions as a house but it was a hoarder house growing up, so the functionality is probably equal, except now i guess its empty instead of over-full. even the house i lived in w my friends was drastically remodeled into some kind of workshop when they finally moved. even the big tree in the front is gone. my grandmother's house had to be remodeled after it got flooded in hurricane harvey. the dance teacher & studio head i had for a decade died. like god damn the liminal spaces sure do be liminal (im sorry)

[yergink]

continuing my "the innkeeper is the best ep of ofmd s2" propaganda, i love that scene of stede walking through the hallway to the captain's cabin after they stumble across the revenge. something poignant about liminal spaces, about the use of walking through one and coming out changed on the other side.

something about how stede climbs aboard the revenge so achingly hopeful, after literally throwing himself out towards it, only for that to shatter as he takes in the wreckage. entering that hallway and seeing the stabbed portrait, and the knife marks and blood on the walls. that tense, drawn out shot as he makes his way to the cabin door. you get the perfect sense of him realizing there's so much more to fix than he thought, hopeless optimism fading even before he finds the crew and does not find ed. that hallway as another example of a transition from fantasy to reality.

[found--family]

am i the only one who sensed some jilted lover vibes from jensen? 

[muirneach]

idk i just hope the tournament organizers see this (and tbh probably inevitably rome also) as a real wakeup call as to how scheduling goes and how they need to give them a goddamn break. i honestly doubt it because i do not think any organizers really give a shit about the actual players (otherwise this would probably not have happened tbh) but i hope they get it together

[set-phasers-to-whump]

shatter

prompt: voice breaking

whumpee: peter sutherland

fandom: the night agent

hi hi hi!! sorry it's been absolute ages since i last posted, school was a Thing but i'm on break now so i'm actually gonna finish off this card at long last :) anyways i watched this show a couple weeks ago and really enjoyed it, hope you'll like this fic!

The first time they actually, literally sleep together is the night after Peter returns from wherever it was that the FBI had shipped him off to (information that Rose, apparently, is still not allowed to know). She isn’t expecting him: he’d called her from a burner when he’d landed in DC that morning, but he hadn’t said anything at all about coming out to California. 

So she’s understandably surprised that evening when he shows up on her doorstep with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, his hair slightly damp from the drizzle outside. 

As soon as she’d seen him pop up on her security feed, she’d gone to unlock the front door, and he doesn’t even have the chance to ring the bell before she’s opening the door and pulling him inside. 

“Peter!”

She wraps him in a hug, pressing her head to his chest and listening to his heartbeat and just breathing in his presence. It’s only been a little over a month since they’ve seen each other, but the calls had been sporadic and short and anyway, nothing compares to having him here, now, slowly dripping water onto the tiles of the foyer in her small one-bedroom house with all the security features of a billionaire’s mansion.

“Hey, Rose,” he says against the side of her head. His voice is heavy with exhaustion and he’s leaning into her enough that she has to work to keep her balance. He doesn’t show any signs of letting go of her anytime soon, and honestly she’d be willing to stay like this forever, but she can feel herself starting to keel over, so she reluctantly pulls away from him before they both go falling to the ground. 

For a few seconds, they both just stand there, looking at each other. 

Peter looks terrible. During their one hectic week together (which feels simultaneously as though it had been years ago and just yesterday), when she knows he’d barely slept at all, he’d looked less tired than this. 

There are dark circles beneath his eyes, almost black, one puffier than the other. Quite likely there’s a black eye hiding beneath the exhaustion. There’s a fresh scrape across the bridge of his nose and a yellowing bruise on his temple and he’s almost shaking - she can see it in the way his fingers grip the strap of his bag. 

“You look terrible, Peter,” she says, trying for a tone somewhere between joking and concerned. She pulls the duffel away from him - he winces when the strap brushes his ear, though there’s no visible injury - and sets it down on the floor. 

“Thanks,” he replies. She doesn’t know whether it’s meant to be a sarcastic acknowledgement of her you look terrible comment or a genuine appreciation for her taking his bag. 

She’s about to ask this question, but something in the way that Peter is looking at her makes her hesitate. It’s his eyes, she thinks. Their unnatural shine in the soft light. How he looks simultaneously afraid and ashamed and just fucking raw. 

“Hey,” she whispers, stepping forwards to grab onto him at the same moment that he all but collapses into her. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

She guides them both to the ground, leaning against the wall. Peter doesn’t say anything. 

“Hey,” she repeats, more insistent. “Look at me.”

He does, but he still doesn’t say anything. He looks so miserable and so tired and she just wants to help but she doesn’t know how, doesn’t know what he needs, doesn’t know what’s wrong. She can make guesses, but she can’t actually - she doesn’t actually know how to help if he won’t tell her what’s wrong. 

But she isn’t going to push him. She sometimes forgets that they’ve known each other for less than two months. She doesn’t know everything about him yet. Doesn’t quite know how far, how hard, to push. She’ll let him come to her. 

He looks away from her again, stares at their knees pressed together, side-by-side. Then, at long last, he speaks.

“I don’t know if I can do this.”

“This?” For a heart-wrenching moment, she thinks that he means this, the two of them, and she braces herself for a blow that never comes. 

“This,” Peter repeats, gesturing loosely to himself with a hand that is now definitely shaking. 

Oh. 

“Can I - What do you need?”

She’s never seen him look quite so lost. 

“I don’t…I don’t know.” His voice is strained until it breaks on the last word, and Rose doesn’t let herself think. She just reaches out and wraps her arms around him, guiding his head to rest on her shoulder, and Peter freezes up for a fraction of a second, and then he just shatters. 

He falls apart nearly silently, but Rose can hear the hitches in his breathing, can feel him trembling, feel the tears soak into her t-shirt. 

“I don’t know what to do,” Peter whispers after a while, his voice rough and a little unsteady. One of his hands loosely twists the hem of her shirt, and Rose cautiously threads her fingers into his hair. 

“You don’t have to know anything right now,” she whispers back. She imagines the Bureau might feel differently about this, but for the time being, it’s just them. Nothing else matters. 

Peter shakes his head against her shoulder. “I thought I would like it.”

“But?”

He shrugs, sniffs. “I was good at it. But - the Metro bombing, the assassination plot - plots - it’s not…it’s not the same as this.”

Rose thinks she understands. There’s a difference between being thrust into something and jumping in voluntarily, between a day or a week and a month. Between being with someone and being essentially alone. 

Peter doesn’t say anything else. At first Rose assumes he’s just thinking, and then she realizes he’s falling asleep. 

“Hey, c’mon,” she says softly, nudging him. “Let’s get you to bed.”

Peter looks up at her for the first time in what feels like forever. His already-battered face is now tearstained, his cheeks and eyes pink. 

“Sorry about all that,” he tells her, as the two of them get to their feet. 

“Don’t even think about apologizing,” Rose responds, taking him by the hand and leading him to her bedroom. “I’d say you’re more than allowed to fall apart on me, all things considered.”

Peter doesn’t say anything to this, but he squeezes her hand and doesn’t offer up any resistance when she goes to help him out of his still-damp clothes and shoes. 

“Make yourself comfortable,” Rose says, gesturing to the bed, as she leaves the room to sweep the house. She checks that all of the doors and windows are locked, makes sure the alarm and cameras are set, then grabs Peter’s forgotten duffel bag and brings it to her bedroom. 

He’s almost asleep by the time she returns. One of his arms has been left outside of the comforter, and there’s a massive bruise on the elbow. She thinks about the various injuries she’d glimpsed while helping him undress and decides to spend some serious time cataloging them all in the morning, if only to make sure that nothing is seriously wrong. 

For now, though, she just double checks the window above the bed, changes into her pajamas, and climbs into bed beside him. 

There will be time for everything else tomorrow.

thanks for reading!! hope neither of them was too ooc, this is my first time writing them (but probably not my last). love you all (and sorry for the massive unplanned break lmao)!!

[scottspack]

i need a real diary but the online public one will have to do. im feeling so many things lately and have had such a crazy year of intense sudden growth and change and im trying to keep my head above water while also trying to appreciate and enjoy the new challenges as they come but also trying to synthesize and learn lessons not just go from one fire to the next without learning anything from the one I just put out. I want to be an intentional leader who leads in a pre meditative and considerate way and not in whatever instinctive and reactionary way first springs to mind when im in a situation. I want to make good decisions, not just acceptable ones, I want to build good habits, not just easy ones, I want to act, not just react. I’ve done a lot of maturing, but not enough. I’ve made a lot of progress, but there’s still so much room to grow. I’m proud of the decisions I’ve made, but I know I’ll look back on some of them in the future and see all of the ways I could’ve done better. I’m proud of myself and impatient for the future version of me that’s better at all of this.

[kissycat]

It's such a scam that in 2021 I more or less completely got over the mental illnesses and issues that had shaped my entire life up to that point and then just went on to develop(?)/discover completely new ones. Like good news you can get better! Bad news you can get worse in entirely unexpected ways

[byanyan]

byan is 19-20 and attending the local community college for a degree in fashion design.

this was not their original plan. they planned to be DONE with school after completing high school but, after both the high school and the home they've lived in most of their life pushed very hard for them to at least apply to a couple colleges, they did so to get the annoying adults off their back. ...and ended up getting accepted into one of these community colleges.

initially, byan planned to ignore this but, after some discussions with the school counselor and the people who run the home, if was decided that rather than kick them out to fend for themself now that they were an adult and finished high school, they could stay in the home for the next few summers. the requirement was, of course, that they attend college.

still, byan heavily debated it. school has never been something they enjoyed. however... after doing a bit more reading into the fashion program, they did find themselves somewhat intrigued. eventually, they agreed to attend.

sometimes they regret this.

during the school year, byan lives in a dorm, usually with no roommate. they've bullied at least two roommates out and, at least for the moment, it seems the school has given up trying to assign anyone else to share a room with them.

they skip class sometimes, but not near as much as they did in high school — now that most of their classes can hold their interest a little better, it's less of a drag to show up for them.

still a huge bully though. a delinquent who most steer clear from, who spends a lot of time getting into fights and causing shit just for the fun of it. ...and sometimes to defend themself.

they're still... adjusting to the fact that there are more consequences for them now when they break the law. they still do it, of course, but they're slowly growing more careful about it, not exactly wanting to end up with stupidly huge fines or winding up in prison.

they still find themself arrested with some amount of regularity, however.

they don't have a job, refusing to work some bullshit they hate just to make money to survive. instead, they sell shit they steal online, occasionally do makeup for someone in the dorm for some extra cash, scam people out of money on dating apps, and dabble in some mild sugarbaby activity.

basically, byan's still a huge mess, perhaps even more so now that they're trying to come to grips with adulthood in their own way. but they're determined to make things as enjoyable as possible.

[savoirbeau]

In Ultra Human society Xerosic is formally dead. He faked his death at age 152 and spent the following years traveling through Ultra Space before eventually ending up in a wormhole on Earth. Throughout his time before and after, Xerosic studied intently on those topics considered taboo--risky, "unethical"--and gave a lens from someone who would consider himself just as ethical and safe as any other. Before his "death", Xerosic had studied energies, aura, what made different radiations tick as opposed to fearing them due to their...we'll say unpleasant effects on Ultra Humans. Due to this, Xerosic--after a few unorthodox and close calls--began to grow a rather high tolerance to bursts of radiation. He is effectively "immune" to the risk of transforming into an Ultra Beast due to these experiments. He even was attempting to form a way to recreate the effects of immunity, though it was considered "too dangerous" and many believed his death was not a death but instead a transformation from the amount of risks he supposedly worked with. When be finally did arrive on Earth, he was intrigued and immediately almost entranced by two energy sources...both within Kalos. The Sundial, and something buried beneath the ground. When he had arrived, however, he required to be very low key, "underground", in a way, due to the chaos that came with the time. Kalos was recovering from something that occurred, and politics were shifting into something new. Xerosic had little human interaction for many many years, not only because he had yet to learn the language, but because he would have preferred to study on his own at the time, somewhat fearful of the ostracization he might gain just like his normal home. This changed, of course. He went under a few different aliases before landing back onto his original name--Xerosic--and during this time of anonymity he assisted and was rather well known for being far advanced. It was only coincidental that when he finally decided to be "himself", Xerosic, was when he met an ambitious inventor.

[my-thoughts-and-junk]

the setting itself can be the monster... but also... a lover? much to think about

[cakeissweeterthanpickles]

Stress? I don't know her (I do know her. I know her very well in fact)

[savethepinecones]

once again feeling guilty for setting boundaries yippee

[steviescrystals]

ignore this post i’m just whining again

[se7ens-oc-heaven]

One thing I enjoy thinking about lately is how Ritsu might be nearly functionally bilingual - since he's from Hoenn, would spend summers in Galar with Rex for his formative years, and then upon returning to the human world ends up in Hisui but Also while working under a Galarian-speaking professor...

I feel like the one thing going for him is he can actually basically understand most of the people in his day to day life no matter where he's at, which most Fallers probably don't get the advantage of.

Though admittedly, I've also considered at least in Ritsu's case that Arceus provides translation at least in Hisui automatically, which might make it a moot point...

(If only he could still speak to pokemon like that... then he'd be trilingual /lh)

[evilgwrl]

I'll suck your dick for a long breeding kink Simon story (ily) 👉🏻👈🏻

i ❤️ breeding kinks and u anon

CW: BREEDING KINK, titty sucking, PIV (No protection, pls use this irl), oral sex (f receiving), praise, slight daddy kink?, cream pie, lactation kink kinda, orgasms yippee

There was something primal inside of Simon, an urge that simmered through him like magma, coiling into every vein and muscle with a need to be filled. It consumed him wholly, wracking his brain with images and thoughts.

Images and thoughts of you, full and round with his seed, his child.

Simon never knew he wanted a family, always content with the one he met on the field. That was until he met you. You were a ray of light, always cheery and smiling, so feminine and beautiful. He needed you, and that was enough, but he wanted more.

He had never approached it with you before, but he was always so careful in case it scared you away. It all began when you were waiting in line at the supermarket, a newborn straddled to his mother’s hips as it cooed at you, slobber dribbling down its mouth as its eyes crinkled with laughter.  You were so quick to smile back, waving with glee as you pulled funny faces, a chorus of laughter soon following from the little one.

It only got worse when you were on your period, raving on about how you sometimes wanted to be pregnant just to get rid of it temporarily.

But Simon believes it really struck him when you were fresh out of the shower, pushing your belly out for fun to look as though you were expecting. You turned to him with cheery eyes and simply asked, “Do you think I would look good pregnant?”

Now, it was all the Lieutenant could think of.

You were a doll, always rushing around for him after he returned home, begging him to relax as you tended to his needs. You would be such a good mother.

“You want me to run you a bath? Give you a massage?” You murmured, rubbing his shoulders as you sat on his lap, thick hands rubbing at your thighs.

Simon groaned in a pleasured tone, nodding, “Only if you join me, sweet’art.”

The bathroom was thick with lavender, small rocks of decedent salts melting in the heated water, clouds of steam fogging up the mirrors as the fan overworked. Your body moulded to his as the bath swished around you, gently rocking against your upper back as your hands wrapped around his shoulders.  

Calloused hands rubbed at your hips, kneading the flesh delicately as he rested his head into the crook of your neck, nuzzling into your scent with a deep sniff.

“Ain’ I the luckiest man alive to have someone like you, you’re always so good to me,” Simon mumbled, voice slightly muffled by his lips pressed against your skin.

Your hands found the back of his neck, pulling him away from you with a smile as you kissed him, “I missed you, Si.”

“I missed you too. And these,” he snorted, groping at your tits as you giggled, working your fingers through his hair.

His cock grazed against your pussy, nudging your slit as you adjusted on top of him, lifting yourself slightly as he brought a breast to his mouth. His teeth grazed against the fat enjoying the way your breath hicked as his tongue swiped your hardened nipple, your fingers gripping into his shoulder with a profound tightness.

Simon was quick to work his palm against the other, enjoying your subtle moans as he tugged at the nipple, drawing the other one into his mouth with a harsh suck. You were so complicit to him, rocking your hips as you ground against his aching cock.

The man was practically slurring against your tits, switching between nipples as he kneaded the flesh. His voice was quiet as he breathed against your skin, barely audible, “Need to fill these up with milk, makes me go crazy thinking about how sweet you would taste.”

Your ears were hazed over with arousal as you only grumbled out a ‘huh’ immediately melting as he began to lick at your chest again. Your breasts were covered in spit, nipples erect and sore as you whined into the steamy air.

Simon’s hands were heavy as he pulled away from you, tugging you into the air with ease as water dripped along the floor, leading a trail to your bed before you were plopped down, wet body squealing against the sheets. He was quick to spread your thighs, lapping in the way your pussy throbbed as he tickled you with kisses, peppering over stretch marks.

Two fingers were quick to spread you open, folds sticky with your slick before the hotness of his mouth sealed it with a layer of spit, suckling at your sensitive clit as Simon growled against your cunt. Your mouth was tingling with cries, prickles of pleasure settling against a sheer layer of sweat that soaked your skin.

Your body was entranced by his tongue, writhing every-time he focused on your nub, your own hands playing with your tits as you rocked against his wet muscle. “F-Fuck Si- just like that-“

You were so needy, so desperate for release as he worked against your movements, thighs closing around his head as he muffled sweet moans into your flesh.

“Tastes so fucking good,” he slurred, wrapping his arms around your thighs as he nestled in closer to your pussy. His cock was leaky with anticipation, moist with pre-cum, edging him closer and closer the more noise you made.

Your orgasm was fast, hitting you with ease as your back arched, thighs shaking as you came with a squeal. His tongue was rapid, licking at your juices like a madman as you moaned, attempting to push his relentless attack away.

Simon pulled away, chin drenched in both spit and arousal as he licked his lips, staring at you with unmistakable hunger. He was quick to work your legs open again, heavy cock hanging low as he tugged at it, pressing the angry tip against your clit.

“Need to fuck you, doll,” he spat, rubbing his pre into your squelching folds as you nodded. No matter how many times you took him, the burn always ached through you, working into your muscles as it coiled into a hot pit in your stomach.

His grunt was loud as he bottomed out, resting in the warmth of your pussy as you stared up at him with tear-streaked eyes, your mouth stuck in an ‘o’ shape. You were so full, cock rubbing against your gummy walls with every slight movement, already kissing your neglected cervix.

“Please move- please-“

He obeyed, pulling out before rocking back into you with a quick thrust. Simon moved your legs, holding them over his shoulder as he pounded into you with a relentless force, giddy on your fucked-out expressions, incoherent blurts leaving your pouty lips.

“Take me so fucking good baby, make me never want to leave. Need to cum in this fucking pussy.”

You clenched. Hard.

Simon paused slightly, staring down at your squinted eyes, hands rubbing at your pillowy tits before you relaxed again.

“You want me to cum in you? Fuck a baby into this pretty cunt, hm?”

You babbled out a yes, tugging at your tender nipples as he growled into the air. His pace was brutal now, desperate for release as you milked around his length, pants leaving your mouth in shallow breaths.

“Gonna look so fucking sexy pregnant- all full with my child. Gonna make me a Daddy? Gonna fuck you until it sticks. That’s it baby - keep sucking me in, just like that.”

Simon was feral, grunting into the air as he fucked his cock into your wailing mound, slick stringing down his full balls. Your screams were loud as your head tilted to the side, tongue lapping from your mouth as you mewled in the pleasure.

“You’re gonna be such a good mommy, aren’t you sweet’art? So fucking good- so fucking tight. Just need to breed this perfect pussy. All fucking mine.”

“Y-Yours, Simon. Please fill me up,” you said, voice cracking as you gripped onto his neck, pulling him flush against you into a mating press. Delicate fingers found your clit as you rubbed the wet bead, moaning against his mouth as he kissed you, an endless supply of adrenaline pumping through his body.

“You gonna give me as many kids as I want? Gonna keep you pregnant, so full and round with my babies. My perfect fucking girl.”

Your breath wedged in your throats as the coil grew in your stomach, sloppy motions rubbed against your clit as Simon fucked against your sweet spot.

“Milk my fucking cock, baby, that’s it- cum for Daddy.”

His words sent you into overdrive, your eyes rolling back as your noises halted, stuck in your oesophagus as your lungs jolted full of air. Simon was quick to follow, your clenches wrapping around his shaft as he came with a groan, hot spurts of come coating your walls as he gripped onto your neck.

The Lieutenant was reluctant to pull out, desperate to keep his seed inside of you, buried at the hilt. You whined at the loss of contact, thick cock leaving your aching mound with a huff as Simon rushed to the bathroom.

You melted into the sheets, gently stirring as he wiped your face and neck with a cool compress.

“Did so well for me,” he praised, rubbing at your cheek affectionately. You smiled, pressing a kiss to his wrist.

Thick loads leaked from your exposed cunt, a hiss leaving Simon’s throat before two fingers pushed his work back in.

This man meant what he said, he wasn’t stopping until it stuck. Until you were pregnant and forever his.

[sapphosboy]

Having repressed memories unlocked very suddenly, is a really terrible experience by the way. Like did not need to see a video of an incredibly traumatizing moment show up on the family digital slideshow but thanks :)