#how dare she fall in love

[crookedfivefingers]

Smith and Jones Doctor Who [s3.e1]

[me-and-me-fr]

They’re having discourse on Tiktok about attachment issues. Attachment. Issues. You know, the thing usually caused by some trauma or underlying mental issues. Cool, great. They love to victimize people with anxious attachment styles, while villainizing people who have avoidant attachment styles.

Both can be terrible to someone in a relationship.

Both are capable of recognizing that and changing it.

Call me chronically online all you fucking want, but if you believe someone is undeserving of love because of a trauma response, maybe it’s you who needs to take a step outside.

[espurr-roba]

"i will fall in love with you over and over again / i don't care how, where, or when / no matter how long it's been / you're mine"

ithica saga.............. oughhhhh

[soupradio]

Won by a land slide might 1 add

I keep reediting this one I'm never happy enough with it

Honda Odyssey style fight scene me x sevika would fix me I would never complain ever again

[doodleynan]

and shadows blend one last time (save those kisses)

[pergaminaa]

Modern au

lol okay this is a little snippet of something. Dorian thought it was time they change the bed mattress and this started the arduous process of looking for one. The one they settled on was really nice and had the perfect balance between firmness and softness.

Manon joked that their 4 year old daughter would treat their bed as a trampoline.

Dorian was appalled and declared “Rhia is an absolute angel, she’s no monkey,”

A week later, while Dorian was out, Manon texted him:

Manon: our daughter is a monkey

-attached is a short video of the 4 year old jumping to her heart’s content on her parents bed-

[ktriesoutlayouts]

I think this really sent me deeper into the feeling I got all season.

It's not that Mark S doesn't love Gemma and that Mark's love for her doesn't transcend Severance. It's that as it is, Mark S can't love Gemma because he was created to not love her.

The entire reason Mark S exists is because Mark desperately wanted to forget his love for Gemma. He wanted for there to be a part of him that kept on living while being blissfully ignorant of how much it hurts to lose the person you love the most in the entire world.

Even Mark himself, who has spent every waking day since he lost Gemma choking on her ghost, had to have a literal hole dug in his brain for his memories of Gemma to come washing over him. That's how deeply buried he has tried to keep her.

So it makes perfect sense to me that when Mark S sees Miss Casey, he may feel a little twinge of something he cannot understand. But Mark's love for Gemma doesn't bleed through because how could it? It would be going against the very reason for Mark S's existence.

But that doesn't mean that Mark S doesn't have the same Gemma-shaped hole that Mark lives with everyday on the outside world. Petey said so himself, that Mark's grief seeps through and that Mark S feels it down there, he just doesn't know what it is.

And what is grief if not love persevering, right?

So it also makes perfect sense to me that Mark S is unknowingly, unconsciously, fiercely filling that Gemma-shaped-hole with H.R. Because who is the woman most alike Gemma in the Severed floor? It's certainly not Miss Casey, nice but passive and almost robotic. It's fierce and real H.R, and the show showed us this through the parallels established between both women during Gemma's flashback episode.

Gemma was the center of Mark's universe. Without her, he was off-kilter. So it's only natural that Mark S has been swiftly turning H.R. into the center of his, because he's been off-kilter, too—he just never realized it before because he had nothing to compare that emptiness to.

[itspileofgoodthings]

the affection? sustained. the warmth? believable. the love? real.

[coachbeards]

People overlook this severity of Ted's mental illness because he's attractive. This is a traumatized alcoholic with an anxiety disorder who makes impulsive decisions. And usually those impulsive decisions are self-destructive.

yeah!!!!! ted is SEVERELY mentally ill and traumatized. like. that’s a huge plot point in the show, and i’m not entirely sure how people keep missing it lmao but that’s another thing. there’s a few posts floating around that talk about Ted having bipolar II disorder and, I’m not an expert by any means, but i definitely could see the possibility of it. I also think that,,, people ignore that whenever the topic of why Ted and Michelle got divorced, too. like. most people completely blame michelle for the divorce as if like. Ted’s inability to open up to anyone wasn’t something he needed Sharon’s help with lmao. Like. Yeah.

[fitzrove]

Started watching a "problem with greek myth retellings" video and it began with a blurb montage like "Condemned by the misogynist guys of history, this is the true girlboss feminist story of [A WOMAN]" and like. brb writing one of those about crown prince rudolf. It's ok he's like a misunderstood girlboss to me<3

[blueheronpronouns]

I just finished watching Gravity Falls for the first time and I am NOT DOING OKAY !!!!!

for starters: I highly highly HIGHLY recommend that you watch the show if you haven’t before!!! It may be a kids show, but my god is it incredible!!! The finale had me CRYING (5.5 times total!!!) I am a MESS I may never be the same,,,,,,,

Man. Anyways where to start???? This WHOLE show is SO incredible, and I could just go on and on and on!!! AAUGHHH

I think what just really hit me with the finale in particular is leaving behind people and places that you love so very dearly… and knowing that it may be at least another year before you see them again…. and knowing that you’re gonna change and you may not fit together exactly the way you used to…. and knowing that things are gonna change and you can’t stop it…. but also knowing that you are so loved and cared for and always have those people to fall back on…. also knowing that things will still be okay, you’ve overcome so much and you know now you can get through anything…… that just hits so hard for me !!!!

and Mabel’s line in particular to Candy and Grenda - “thank you for being my people” - absolutely tore me apart because it made me think of my two best friends that I had to ‘leave behind’. I still talk with them but we’ll never be together and close in quite the same way and it’s so hard to accept that,,,,, so yeah,,,,, thank you for being my people!!! I’m so grateful to be able to find my people and I think this show is just such a beautiful thing and I won’t stop thinking about it for a while now!!!!!!!!

[red-hemlock]

What Type of Lonely are you?

Loneliness of the Lover

You were born into your loneliness, your family always had better things to love. You're a hopeless romantic, of your friends there's only one or two you haven't fallen for. It's a pattern, you don't want to think about that, though. Every person you get close with, your heart locks them into your life. The chains are too tight, or too heavy because they always become overwhelmed and leave. You're too much, a violently bright fire trying to be held by gentle human hands. It's no wonder you burn them. You just aren't meant for love like humans are.

Tagged by: (Stole from @ratwhsprs and @cxpedcrusxder) Tagging: (Anyone who wants to do this! =D <3)

[shanklin]

The Shack hates them of course!

At first at least.

Stan was so excited to have them over. He prepared for weeks for their arrival, planned fun family bonding adventures and made the Shack look extra pretty! He even cleaned out the attic and gave the Shack new furniture offerings! The Shack could see Stan finally brightening up!

And then those damn kids go and break Stan's heart by insulting Stan and having an 8 Ball decide if they stay or not.

The Shack won’t stand for it! They were supposed to make Stan brighter but instead they made the Shacks human more miserable than he’s been in years. All the hard work the Shack put into making Stan feel better and they destroyed it all with just a couple of words.

It needs them gone NOW.

So it does its best to scare them off without actually hurting them. Stan wouldn’t like that. Unfortunately. 

The Shack makes it so the kids think they’re haunted and lets in monsters to attack them. The Shack is confident the kids will run and never come back just like all the other handymen Stan tried to hire before Soos, but the boy pulls out a camera instead and investigates! 

Oh dear the Shack rarely felt this seen. That only ever happened with Stan in private. It should’ve tried to make itself more presentable. 

And then the girl compliments its splinters and the Shack is utterly charmed. Before the Shack can realise what's happening, it tries to keep them close and play with them! 

It even brings out some of the forgotten rooms like the party ones or the one with the wax statues for some light family fun!

[That one didn't go so well for Stan which the Shack regrets, but it's the thought that counts right?]

Luckily just as the Shack was warming up to the kids, the kids were warming up to Stan and then finally FINALLY the Shack gets to see more of Stan's honest smiles and laughter. It couldn’t be more grateful to the kids. And just like it did with Soos and Wendy before that it promises to keep them safe and protected no matter what!

The Shack loves its humans dearly!

Sentient Mystery Shack, who is really biased towards Stan, so when Ford tells Stan he has to give it back after the summer it’s on sight.

Ford keeps tripping over nothing, nothing is where it's supposed to be and somehow he keeps running into closets when he tries to go outside.

But the worst part, the WORST part is that Ford's lightbulb just won't. Work. No matter what he does it keeps flickering and exploding.

Ford is spiraling. 

There is no reason why it shoudln’t work. All his trial runs work perfectly. He’s already checked the Shacks wiring three times and relearned this dimensions science from the ground up. 

Nothing works.

The Rift? Bill? The impending apocalypse? Eating? Sleep? Who cares about that. 

WHY. WONT. THE. LIGHTBULB. WORK???

It doesn’t help that Stan keeps laughing at him.

“Then you do it!” Ford eventually snaps at Stan.

Stan shrugs and with a little song under his breath screws his own lightbulb in. It works perfectly.

Stanford screams.

[yapdad]

the only drawback to making kento a father is the lack of 'alone time' you now get.

he was made to be a dad, there’s no doubt about it. he’s the perfect contender, stern but patient and understanding and so infatuated with fatherhood that you almost don’t mind the nightly interruptions.

almost. the sound of little padding footsteps leading up to your closed bedroom door gives you a trauma response now. how your husband can hold himself above you, inches away from dipping inside your sweet center, and still remain kind-eyed and cheery when your daughter starts banging on the shut door to be let in is beyond you.

he's a good man. you hate him for it.

maybe you just need sex. you've been deprived of your husband's body for so long that you're going stir crazy, in a sense. he did marry you with a vow of servitude, after all.

thank god for takuma and his wide eyes. he looks like a deer in headlights as he stands at your front door, a huge bag of toys and snacks and just-in-case diapers in one hand and your daughters tiny hand wrapped around two fingers of his other hand. she beams up at uncle ino, ready to spend a night away from home (and get unreasonably spoilt in the process).

"no snacks after her teeth are brushed. and she's developed a penchant for climbing—don't let her do that. and if she comes home with even a mark, ino, i will be breaking each and every last one of your bones, starting with the toes and moving upwards until i reach your—"

"i think he gets the point, love," you place a gentle hand on your husbands tense bicep. "please stop threatening to snap takuma's bones."

ino, who is probably going over his last will and testament in his head, forces a grin. "loud and clear, she's safe with me."

"mhm," your husband can only eye him for so long before your daughter is tugging uncle ino away and leaving the two of you in the foyer.

finally alone. just you, your husband, and his teething paranoia. he's darting to the front window and peeking through it like a yappy dog would as their owner leaves. it’s cute. you feel bad for the future-teenage version of your daughter, who will have to deal with a man like kento nanami as her father. but now she’s just a baby and in the safe (albeit shaky) care of uncle ino, and you are vying for an orgasm or six.

“ken, honey."

his eyes are stuck outside.

"kento."

still stuck. you never thought the other woman would be sporting butterfly clips and drool as a statement piece.

"oh my fucking god kento nanami if you do not fuck me right now i will take that little sword of yours and stick it so far up your— oh hi."

he's standing in front of you before you know it, with your face held firmly in his hands and an awfully stern look on his face.

"my love," he drags his thumb from your cheek, down to your bottom lip. "first of all, i have every intention of ravaging you until you're so full of me that you don't have the mind to beg for more. and second, it's more of a cleaver than a sword."

"okay nerd," you pull your man into a deep kiss, one much more intimate than you've been allowing yourself of late. kento takes the lead easily, slipping his tongue past your lips in a way he'd never dare to do over the breakfast table.

before you can register your movements, the two of you are stumbling like drunk teens up to your bedroom, a garment of clothing lost with each step to the door. you loosen your husbands tie and drop it to the ground, and he manages to unclasp your bra just as his back hits the bed and you're falling on top of him in a mess of gross kisses and shared laughter.

it's sweet, until kento tires of the homely teasing and flips you over to press his heavy body (and even heavier cock, it seems) against yourself. your legs part naturally, as they will ever do for the man you love, and kento trails kiss after kiss from your neck all the way down to the dripping mess of your cunt.

when he latches his lips to your clit you gasp and shoot your hand down to his hair. he loves it being pulled, admitted to you after a drink too many that he finds in degrading in a way that is only pleasurable coming from you: he's sensitive to that sort of stuff, so you tug lightly at his blond locks until your fingers snag against something hard.

"what's in your hair?" you manage between moans as ken savours his most favourite meal.

he pulls away for a second, resting his cheek against your parted (and already shaky) thigh as you comb through his hair with your fingers once more and pullout not one, but two hot pink butterfly clips that you were looking for only this morning.

"oh," your husband smiles when he sees them. "i got a princess makeover last night. i stopped her before she could go looking for makeup but she did manage to find those."

"they suit you," you smile, and clip them back into his hair. it look silly, but it keeps his hair from sticking to his forehead in the heat of things, so you look past the glitter. "you're a good dad, you know?"

kento presses a kiss to your clit, which has your breath hitch in your throat, before rising up to climb over you once again. his cock is heavy and pulsing with heat as it rests against you, but ken denies himself for a moment in favour of pressing a very sweet kiss to your lips. you can taste yourself on his smile.

"thank you for making me a dad," he kisses your cheek next, and then your forehead. "and thank you for everything else you have given me in our marriage."

"all those orgasms..." you muse, which earns you a small laugh from your lover.

"oh indeed," he reaches down and lines himself up with you. "you always know just how to set the mood. very sentimental, you are."

"it's what you married me for," you lift your hips a little to help your husband in. "isn't it? you just love the way i—oh god, ken."

he pushes into you niiice and slow, feeling the way you stretch around him. it's been a while, so the usual ache of accommodating his unfair size is more of a burn this time through, but kento's lips against your neck are a nice distraction. he's slow and sweet and so in love with you that you can feel it in the way he fills you up. or maybe you're just delusional from the dick.

"love the way you feel," he finishes your sentence. drawing his hips back only a little to get you used to his movements, he presses his next kiss to your shoulder. "love the way you look."

"you don't need to flatter me. you're already inside of me."

kento bites the skin of your shoulder and picks up the pace to really start fucking you. "love the way you can take a compliment without being a smartass about it."

"god, kento," you can only manage a few words before he's adjusting his thrusts to brush against your g spot with each movement in and out. "it's so much."

"i love how well you take me," he goes on. "i love your heart. and i love your body. and i love your idiotic jokes. and i love how you smell."

"ken..."

"and i love—" kento runs a hand down your left arm to take your hand in his, bringing your knuckles up to his lips before pressing a long kiss to your wedding band "—how i'm all yours."

not his, yours. he's made it very clear since your first date (which was more of a study-situation than anything, that he is all yours. your property. your lover. your shoulder to cry on and your life partner and the man who would burn down cities for you and your kid.

and the only man who could fill you this deep and still be romantic about it. he fucks you like that until your legs are locked around his waist and you're begging him to fill you up with his load.

and of course he obliges, because anything you ask for he will give you enthusiastically. he rubs your clit until you're blanking on your own name and cumming in beautiful synchronisation with him. kento spills deep inside of you with a breathy groan and even then still manages to fuck you through your orgasm until he's softening inside of you and you're trying ultra hard not to cry from the overwhelming love (and pleasure) you're feeling.

and as he holds himself over you, smiling down at you like he didn't just possibly breed you out again, all you can do is look up at him with teary eyes and laugh at the ridiculous pink butterfly clips on his head.

"you're so pretty," you giggle, reaching up between your sweaty bodies to tap on the clips. "my manly husband."

"god," he groans, dropping his head down to your chest. you laugh some more, now with an even better view of his accessories, until he steals your laughter altogether with a sharp bite to your nipple.

"ow, fuck! that is not how a princess behaves."

"you are going to be the death of me."

[edenorisshitposting]

oops, looks like the story I planned to make into a short comic grew so much it's now going to have to be a graphic novel

[sunni-stuff]

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Reader who gets pregnant off of a one night stand with some soldier during armed forces day, showing your appreciation for his service a little too well.

You had a support system, friends who joked about you having way too much fun, hence your predicament, others already offering to buy things for the baby and your parents who couldn't be happier to meet their grandchild.

But what about the father?

Well, it's not exactly like you could track him down. Fuck, you didn't even know the man's name, only how he made you feel, his filthy words strumming in your ear, big hands tight around your waist, hips slamming away in a desperate chase.

Let's forget how you leg-locked him.

When your daughter was born, everything changed, and time slowed down. She was a quiet baby, barely crying or having any outbursts like a normal child would but outspoken in her own little way. That chunky thing came out of the womb with a glare. Brown eyes staring down anyone and everyone but you.

That's something she definitely got from her father. You vividly remember how his umber eyes watching you from across the bar. He was like an eagle waiting for the perfect moment to strike his prey. A perfect soldier.

So, you named your daughter Adira in memory of his strength. That's one thing he could have.

Adira loved to be by your side. Her chubby cheeks pressed into the nook of your neck, holding you close with strength of a thousand babies. Your clingy little thing was a koala, always by her mommy's side, never straying far no matter how curious she got. When she learned to walk, her favorite thing became to hug your leg, especially while in stores. She hated people, wearing a tiny scowl whenever customers passed by tucking herself closer to you.

Maybe it was a good thing her father wasn't around. Having to compete for her first words would've been a bloodbath.

You spent two years in bliss. The fact that you were a single mother an afterthought to raising what you considered a blessing.

With Adira's second Christmas coming up, you wanted to do something special. She loved trains and found them absolutely amusing, often mimicking the honk as she ran around your apartment. Thankfully, there was a train ride for kids around the park during this time of year.

Here, you stood in line, bundled up to the nines. Big poofy coat, warm gloves, and fuzzy boots. As the crowd moved, Adira clung close, arms wrapped around your leg, glowering at any passerby with an annoyed look on her rosy cheeks.

That one was new. Maybe something else she got from her father.

The two of you took steps in tow, keeping Adira close and comfortable as the train came into view. Her expression shifted, excitement palpable. "Twain!" She squealed, jumping up and down.

Before you could respond to Adira's childlike joy, a man bumped into you by accident, nearly stumbling over his own feet. He turns to look at you, blue eyes meeting yours, but you were too focused on the weird ass Mohawk on his head.

People wore still those?

"Sorry bout that lass." The man starts to apologize, a Scottish accent lacing his voice.

That breaks your stare, laughing awkwardly to mask your wandering gaze. "Oh no, it's fine. You should be careful. you might slip on ice."

He nods, giving you a kind smile. The Scottish man starts to leave, but the look your kid was giving him sent shivers down his spine.

Little Adira was giving him a fierce stare down from behind your leg before ultimately cutting her eyes at him as if he were merely a nuisance.

"Next in line! Mctavish!"

The man doesn't stay after that. You assume that it was him they were calling with the way he hurried off. Hope he doesn't fall, seemed like a nice guy.

Soap can't help but do a double take when be gets to the front. The little rascal was wearing his Lieutenants face, hawk eyeing anyone who dared got to close. It was like looking in a mirror.

He nudged Gaz, making a gesture to look back without making it obvious. "See the lass and her bairn in line?"

Gaz gives him a raised brow, looking back for a second before turning around. "There's a lot of kids with their mother's, Johnny."

Soap glances back, double checking to make sure you were still in line. “The lass with the wee one—she’s got the same wicked look as Lt. You cannae miss her.”

Gaz rolls his eyes but humors Soap by looking once more, his eyes scanning the crowd until they land on a little girl already mean-mugging him from a distance. He swiftly turns around, blinking in surprise, trying to comprehend what he saw. "Uh..."

Soap only nods in agreement. That was Ghost's face, on a kid no less. He wastes no time, elbowing Roach and getting him to look back as well, leaving the other Sergeant in the same shock as Gaz. "That is not a face a kid should have."

"Agreed." Gaz added, shuddering at the thought.

"Where's the cap?" Soap asks, the train ride no longer feeling like fun now that he’s discovered the jackpot.

"Market place with Lt. for cigs," Gaz knowingly remarked, remembering that Price had run out on their way here.

"Well, let's go show them a Christmas miracle," Soap shot up from his seat all too eagerly.

The sergeants just got their Christmas present.