#i guess i can't really deny that tag on this one rip

[somfte]

[image description: four gifs from Black Sails, edited to be paired with lyrics from the song ‘The Rockrose and the Thistle’ by The Amazing Devil.

First image: episode 3.05, Silver nods to Flint (offscreen) after they are released from the cages and Flint thanks him. Lyrics fade in to say, “Cos I’ll darn you back together”.

Second image: episode 3.03, Flint sobs alone in his cabin during the doldrums. Lyrics say, “When you think that you’re bereft”. The word bereft is separate from the other words, and appears after a delay.

Third image: episode 4.06, a mourning Silver is seated in the cabin of the Walrus, staring into nothing. Flint places a hand on his shoulder. Lyrics say, “And you’ll wail, you’ll scream, but I’ll never stop”. The words “but I’ll never stop” linger on the image after the other words have faded away.

Fourth image: episode 4.10, in the forest on Skeleton Island, Silver’s gun is pointed at Flint, who, facing the camera, gazes at Silver with an expression of profound grief. Lyrics say, “Cos it’s all that I have left”. The word “left” appears, after a delay, over Flint’s heart.

/end description]

[cartierre]

SINCE WAY BACK | ln4

SOCIAL MEDIA!AU lando norris x fem!black!producer!reader (fc: alexis carrington)

side note: drake is aged up in this because i want y/n to be born around 2000/2001 but that would mean drake was 14/15 when he became a dad... so he's just a few years older here to make it more believable okay? great. side note pt2: there are so many long twitter threads used to explain the whole backstory. like, really really long. i didn't know how else to explain everything, i'm sorry.

♡ liked by champagnepapi, mclaren, octobersveryown and 829,938 others

tagged: mclaren, octobersveryown

f1 BREAKING: October's Very Own (OVO) joins the McLaren team as their new primary sponsor for the 2023 season.

#F1 #Formula1 #McLaren

view all 5,328 comments

user1 what the fuck is drake doing here

user2 i'm actually so gagged like what is happening why is drake invested in f1 all of a sudden

user3 this is such an odd pairing? drake and zak brown together feels like a fever dream

user4 drake joining f1 as a sponsor was definitely not on my 2023 bingo card

user5 caitlyn jenner buying a whole w series team is less surprising than whatever this is

♡ liked by yourusername, champagnepapi, danielricciardo and 187,385 others

lando.jpg adonis is teaching me how to play basketball because otherwise he "cannot accept me" i've been humbled by a 5 year old

view all 483 comments

user6 is that the girl he might or might not be dating ⤷ user7 i need to know otherwise i might die (i won't but the suspense is killing me)

user8 WHO IS THAT GIRL LANDO

user9 is this you trying to soft launch or is she just a platonic friend?

user10 "fans" going insane because they can't handle the thought of lando having female friends as well

user11 he's not even tagging anyone omg now i have to scroll through all the people he follows. lando is not making my job easy

(private account)

♡ liked by centralcee, jorjasmith_, landonorris and 637 others

y/n_graham why am i trending on twitter and why is everyone uncovering my childhood

view all 45 comments

landonorris i think this is my fault ⤷ y/n_graham you and your jpg ⤷ landonorris my camera lense is just so mesmerised by your beauty ⤷ y/n_graham your compliments won't get you out of trouble

centralcee i'm literally getting dms asking about you ⤷ y/n_graham i woke up to 15,000 people trying to follow me

jorjasmith_ lando's fans are literally fbi agents ⤷ y/n_graham i'm making so many backup files of my music projects because i'm scared someone will hack into my laptop now

♡ liked by 238,273 others

f1wags Y/N Graham, daughter of Canadian rapper Drake, was photographed by a fan outside the venue in Greece where Lando Norris, her rumoured boyfriend, was playing this weekend. None of the two have confirmed nor deniend the relationship allegations that have been going around for a few months now. An inside source, which attended the party, revealed how the two behaved very intimate with each other.

view all 5,394 comments

user12 girl it's been nearly four months since the rumours started... can one of them just please either confirm or deny them?

user13 at this point i'm just over the whole drama. let them have their privacy i guess

user14 this drama is juicier than when the whole oscar-alpine-mclaren fiasco happened

user15 i'm this close to ripping my hair out why is this rumour been going on for AGES i just want a simple statement already

♡ liked by y/n_graham, champagnepapi, danielricciardo and 374,947 others

tagged: y/n_graham, champagnepapi

lando.jpg bonding family time, got to support the father in law ;)

view all 9,294 comments

user16 EXCUSE ME WDYM FATHER IN LAW? is this a joke or real ⤷ y/n_graham we're not married, don't worry ⤷ user17 OMG Y/N MADE HER ACCOUNT PUBLIC JUST NOW

champagnepapi i like the sound of "father in law" ⤷ lando.jpeg i know you would ⤷ y/n_graham no no no

user18 okay from what i've gathered drake and lando are on good terms ⤷ user19 bet that's why drake sponsored mclaren lmao ⤷ y/n_graham no but deadass

user20 y/n fighting for her life in the comments lmaoooo ⤷ y/n_graham in the trenches

[flowersfortheghost]

Ghostflower week day 7: own choice

summary: Gwen has been writing a lot of songs in her free time. Her friends find her song book and to them it’s pretty obvious who most of the songs are about, even if Gwen keeps denying it.

tags: @ghostflowerweek2023

(part two of day four)

song used: Allies or Enemies by The Crane Wives

note: ik this is late but i had tests, wasn't home on friday bc of Six and yesterday bc i had stuff to do and i finally had free time to write and upload so sorry for it being late. anyway, i had a ton of fun during ghostflower week and it finally got me out of the writers block i've been having. this week has been so much fun and ty to everyone who read my stuff!

—

Gwen was with Hobie and Pavitr, but she wasn’t paying too much attention to them. She was writing songs, which was one of her ways to get her thoughts out without having to talk to anyone.

She had started writing love songs about Miles. The two haven’t made up. Gwen tried to apologize to Miles but that didn’t end well. It hurt to see that, especially since she loved him. Most of them now were about how she had fucked their entire friendship up, but before they were songs about how she was in love with him.

Suddenly, Gwen’s song book is ripped out of her hands. “Hey! Give that back!” She said loudly. She saw that Pavitr was holding it, and Hobie was also looking in her song book. “Gwendy, calm down. Why do you care so much about a notebook that’s practically falling apart?” Hobie said.

“Woah, sounds like Gwen is in love with someone!”

“No I’m not!” Gwen said in defense. “Oh really? Your song lyrics tell otherwise.” Pavitr said. “Is it that guy from 1610?” Hobie asked. “No, what makes you think that?”

“It’s quite obvious.”

“Damnit…” Gwen mumbled to herself. She quickly grabbed her song book back. “Your songs are good though. It seems like you put a lot of effort into them.” Pavitr said, trying to change the conversation a little bit. “Thanks I guess.” Gwen said.

“I’m guessing you two haven’t talked yet.”

“What’s there to talk about? He told me himself that he basically hates me.”

Hobie sighed. “He probably just needed time. You tried to apologize right after everything happened. Now he had time to think about it and form an opinion.”

“I’m going home now.” Gwen said, opening up a portal. She didn’t want to talk about this. Not right now. So she just went home without saying goodbye.

—

Gwen was back at her own earth in her own room. Even though that thing happened between her and her dad, it still felt nice to be back in her own room. She couldn’t deny the fact she had missed this place.

Gwen wanted to write. Another song about her feelings towards Miles. This one was a little different. It wasn’t about her being in love with him, it was about everything that went down in their friendship.

About how she betrayed him but didn’t mean to, about the fact they had fought about it, about how she didn’t know what they were once they made it. Their entire fight upset her deeply, and she regrets everything she had done.

The words I speak

Are wildfires and weeds

They spread like some awful damn disease

And I swear, I didn't mean what I said

I swear, I didn't mean it

As her emotions kept building up, her mind kept coming up with ways to describe her feelings and thoughts in song form. She kept on writing, feeling extremely focused despite the emotions she felt.

Are we allies or enemies?

This will be the death of me

This will be the death of me

All is fair in love, and war

But I can't fight with you anymore

This will be the death of me

After a while, she had finished her song. She knew she would probably do nothing more to it, maybe try something on her drums with it but it wouldn’t be used for her ban. This was just something for her.

—

“Hobie, I don’t understand why you were insisting on letting me come here.” Gwen said when she was out of the portal. She was now in Earth-1610, Miles’ dimension. “We have talked it out, or tried but-”

“You two need to talk about this proporally.” Gwen sighed with frustration. Before she could even open up another portal to send her back home, she saw Miles swinging towards her. “There’s no turning back now.” She thought to herself.

“See you later, Gwendy.” Hobie said before swinging away. Then Miles approached her. “Hi.” Gwen said quietly. “Hi.” Miles said in response. Then there was silence, the two didn’t know where to begin. “We need to talk.” Miles said, breaking the awkward silence.

“Yeah, we do.”

—

Gwen and Miles were now both at the Williamsburg Banks Building. They had their little fight here, so it felt weird coming back here. Gwen didn’t know what to say, then her song lyrics came back to mind.

What happens now?

Do we have another go?

Do we bow out, and take our separate roads?

I'll admit I've had my doubts

But I want to be let in, not out

But I want to be let in, not out

“I’m sorry for how I acted towards you. I probably should’ve listened to your side of the story.” Miles began. “You shouldn’t apologize. It’s my fault. This wouldn’t have happened if I just..didn’t choose the society over you.”

 “I actually wanted to ask you, why did you choose them over me?” Miles asked, curiosity blossoming in his mind. Gwen had to explain the situation now, which wasn’t something she liked explaining. “I had no choice. I already explained that thing between me and my dad but..” Her voice trailed off. She took a moment to fight back her tears before continuing.

“I just didn’t have a choice. My dad pointed a gun at me, tried to arrest me so I had nowhere to go. That society was the only place I could stay since I had no one. My dad was all I had left..” 

“I didn’t..know that was the case.”

“It’s okay.” Gwen took a deep breath. She was surprised her tears still didn’t fall. “So yeah, that was the reason why. But I would do anything to take back what I did. I’m so, so, so sorry, Miles. And I can understand if you still can’t forgive me or trust me or-”

“I forgive you.”

Gwen was silent. It felt like the tears could and would start falling, which they did. She hugged Miles tightly, she has never hugged someone so tightly before. “Thank you for forgiving me.” She said.

Miles didn’t respond to this. He just hugged Gwen back, holding her tightly as well. After a few minutes of silence, Miles broke it. “Also, Hobie showed me your song book.”

Gwen let go of the hug, her face heating up from embarrassment. “So that’s why it has been missing for the past few days. That son of a-” 

“You're really good at writing songs.” Miles said, leading Gwen to stop her thoughts. “Oh..thanks.” She said. She hoped he wouldn’t ask who her songs were about, but then again she did mention that she loved him during their fight.

“I know I’ve said this before during our fight but..I love you, Miles.” Gwen said, finally having the courage to do so. “I love you too, Gwen.” Gwen smiled and so did Miles. Finally things were good again. And Gwen knew when she was back home, she would write another song.

[anincompletelist]

Hey. I was lurking around your blog like a fruit fly eying the rwrb content and I saw a tag of hitman Alex? Do tell me more, please. Are you writing an assassin au? ARE YOU? I'm cool about it. Totally fine. Asking for a friend.

HITMAN ALEX AU MY BELOVED :D

okay I don't even know where to START with this one I have so many ideas kjdhkjhs (and 10k of random scenes written that I'm going to have to figure out how to piece together somehow BUT) it was just gonna be an au roughly inspired by pics of tzp on this night and this night but then it spiraled out of control jkhskdhkj (in a good way? I think?)

but it's heavily inspired by chess moves and I know practically nothing about chess but the research I've done is EXTENSIVE so I hope it pays off!

I can't spoil much of it because I'm (trying) to make it very mysterious and suspenseful if I can pull it off BUT this is also from hitman and here! have another snippet because I can't control myself ! :D

this one is fairly tame but I also have some.... slightly more *nsfw* snippets should anyone be inclined to yell at me to share them...

anyway!

--

Henry isn’t sure which part of this conversation he’s most shocked at. The brazen physical touch, his ignorance of Henry’s title, the suggestive nicknames, or the fact that he’d so easily acknowledged something that Henry and the rest of them had been trained to firmly deny to the consequence of death. He blinks at the mysterious stranger, equally as curious as he is terrified at what might come out of his mouth next. 

“I- I should really continue speaking with the guests,” Henry forces out. 

“Duty calls,” Ander agrees, dragging his elbows up and off the table once more as he finishes the last of his champagne. A single drop lands at the corner of his lips, threatening to fall just before he catches it with his tongue. Henry rips his gaze away, finally snapping into motion. 

He clears his throat and runs a hand over the front of his pristine suit. Then, for some unfathomable reason, he offers his hand out for a second time, feeling painfully vulnerable as he waits for Ander to accept it. 

“It was a pleasure meeting you. Ander, was it?” 

A tilted smile pulls at his lips, and he slides his long fingers into Henry’s palm and squeezes. 

“You can call me Alex,” he says only loud enough for them both to hear, shaking firmly. “When we’re alone, at least.” 

Suddenly feeling parched, Henry licks his lips to wet them, dragging his eyes from Alex’s shoes up to his chest, then his mouth, then his fervid gaze. Something twists in his gut, but he’s unsure of if it’s trying to tell him to stay put or to get away as quickly as possible. 

“Are we going to be alone together, Alex?” 

Lips twitching once more, Alex’s gaze falls pointedly down to his lips and then back up, his fingers slipping from Henry’s grasp. “I guess you’ll find out, Your Highness.”

--

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKING I ADORE TALKING ABOUT MY WIPS <3 I hope you're doing amazing and having a wonderful thursday! :D

[life-in-the-monster-haus]

Monster High the Movie Review Part 4

Spoilers ahead!

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I don't like this Komos guy... but his song "True Monster Heart" has been stuck in my head for DAYS! it's so dang catchy! it's like a mild form of torture!

This purple kid could have been Andy beast. what a wasted opportunity!

Is... is Cleo trying to flirt with the teacher?... Deuce isn't even in the room, who is she trying to impress? I don't like it. Back away from the underage girl

My biggest gripe about G2 was the fact that the school was new and had no history... now THIS school seems to have a LOT of history... I don't wanna eat my own words here but like... can't we meet in the middle? I'm glad the school is really old but why is the tech super old??? Frankie was just bragging about having a smart phone not 10 minutes ago and now Clawdeen is in a library that looks like it was ripped directly out of the 1700's, peep that ancient wheelchair. its also so dirty and dusty. OG Monster High had cob webs but the school itself was clean and modern, it had wi-fi and computers. Is this supposed to be creepy? is that what all the kids are scared of now? the past? oooOOOOooo look out! its the dewey decimal system! I don't know y'all this is very anachronistic and it's taking me out of the movie, it's distracting.

*puts on nerd glasses* There is no need to manufacture pointed teeth on human actors for mythical creatures... Humans have pointed teeth... they are called our canine teeth. The teeth that are pointed HERE are lateral incisors & don't make anatomical sense, it looks terrible in live action especially since in animation? fangs are often spaced much further apart than this. This isn't "True Blood" circa 2008. Put them fangs back on her canines. *takes off nerd glasses*

Clawdeen becomes fully human!... her human ears grow in on the sides of her head ...ew... this is the opposite of a werewolf transformation. but it's equally horrifying!

Magnesium bicarbonate is not soothing, it tastes like TV static. but technically Frankie is right it does help settle your nerves. Clawdeen is gonna have some interesting poops later, but I digress.

I don't really understand this big push to make Frankie really smart ... this started in G2 but it directly conflicts with their whole "new to the world naivete" thing they have going on. G3 is TRYING to have it both ways with them being very intelligent but not knowing how intelligent they are because they can't recall a topic unless it's referenced in front of them, they get that brain spark thing and know the info instantly but they don't have the power to recall that info at will. it's fine I guess.

Mind you, OG Frankie was never stupid. She was just newly created and had no experience yet.

Frankie Stein has Alan Turing's cortex and they will not have any of your holocaust denying BS today!

Movie thinks I won't notice looking at scrolls to get info in one scene and then using a smart phone in the next, movie is wrong. then again I guess looking up info on a smart phone just isn't as cinematic as finding the right scroll for the info you need on the fourth try. This would have been a good opportunity to use the sentient school! instead of years old info just chilling in a tube the school could have literally spat it out for them to see or lead them to where it was. tsk, tsk. wasted opportunity.

Clawdeen is still hiding the fact that her father is human, he gets an invite to a school function addressed to "Pierre Wolf", a fake name Clawdeen gave to Bloodgood to make it seem like he was a werewolf too. But so far? I don't think they've said his actual name, Mom's name is Selena but we don't hear Dad's name, it's possible I missed it.

Update: I did miss it. His name is Apollo, it's on his name tag when he comes home from work.

Part 4/?

[hyetiny]

c// fem!reader, superhero reader, villain yeosang, lowkey enemies to fwb, top yeo, bottom reader, bodily scars + showing them to each other, mentions of violence, clubbing, drinking, dry humping, oral (f receiving), knifeplay, pain kink, choking, degradation, dirty talk, protected sex, yeo monster cock

please read the tags carefully, this may not be for everyone!

this is the longest thing i've ever written omfg. also i’m really proud of this, please don’t let it flop :’D

kang yeosang was the root of everything wrong in your life, you had decided.

he was like the annoying fly that wouldn’t stop buzzing around your ear on a hot summer’s day. no matter how many times you were certain that you had vanquished the city of the blight that was yeosang, the supervillain managed to come back unnoticed.

at this point, you were convincing yourself it was impossible to cease him from causing trouble. on shitty nights like this, you went down to the discreet nightclub, hidden away in a dark alleyway. whether you needed a good drink or a good fuck, the club was always there to provide.

“the usual?” the familiar bartender yunho asks, taking in your frustrated expression and slumped shoulders that he sees far too often. 

“yep, a slouchy susan.” you roll your eyes at the corny names yunho would come up with, your mind wandering to the silly names he must have had for the other patrons. it was always comforting to have a chat with the friendly bartender after a hard day - plus, you couldn’t deny he was absolute eye candy. 

“top it off, please.” you shift your glass back to him after downing it.

“put it on my tab, yuyu”. a familiar, deep voice comes from next to you.

you turn to see yet another unbelievably attractive man. he has blonde hair that grows just past his neck, his natural black roots starting to show through. from where you’re sitting on your rickety stool, you pick up on the hint of cologne that lingers on him. you’ve never seen him before, yet something about him seems eerily familiar, like you’ve seen him in a dream.

you shake off the feeling, instead deciding to chat him up.

“yuyu?” you giggle at his affectionate nickname for the barkeep.

“we go way back, it’s what his mother would call him when she’d drop him off to school. i guess it stuck”. the man smiles at you, visibly taking in your features and not breaking eye contact with you.

you’re taken aback by him, your heart thumping unusually fast for some reason.

“stop embarrassing me, yeo-”

the man clears his throat loudly. you must have missed something, because yunho immediately goes quiet and wordlessly hands your drinks - your “slouchy susan” and a whiskey for the man.

“so if he’s yuyu, what are you?” you ask him.

“you can call me ryusang.” he says.

“y/n”. 

the two of you lapse into easy conversation. you giggle at his lame jokes, and he does the same. you find common interests, funny anecdotes, blissfully letting the stresses of the day slip away with each word of the attractive ryusang.

soon enough, the dance floor grows crowded and the music gets louder.

“dance with me?” ryusang stands up, offering a hand. you take it gratefully, letting him drag you to the dance floor. it’s a mess of sweaty bodies, but you don’t care as you become part of it with ryusang. his hands find your hips, and you’re both falling into an easy rhythm, completely in sync with the trap music blasting from the speakers.

as expected, the space between you gradually gets smaller and smaller, until it’s practically non-existent. you’re shamelessly grinding against each other, joining the litany of couples who are completely up against each other. you pretend not to pay any mind to his noticeably growing bulge, instead deciding to tease him a bit by intentionally grinding up harder against him. this night was going right where you wanted it to.

“my place is near here.” he whispers right into your ear, making you shiver underneath him.

“then we’d better get out of here quickly, hm?” you say in response.

since you had both been drinking, you decide to take a cab to his place. the sexual tension is rife in the air. you deliberately, teasingly lay a hand on his thigh, oh so close to his crotch, his face glowing red as it clearly riles him up.

when you get up the flight of stairs up to his apartment, and he fumbles with the key for what feels like minutes, you’re all over each other. the first kiss you share is nothing but messy - all teeth and tongue, nothing but complete lust for one another. he’s gently guiding you towards his room, until your legs hit his mattress. you break the kiss, only for him to gently lay you down, straddle you, and get right back to sloppily kissing you.

he undoes the buttons of your blouse without breaking the kiss, impressively with one hand. he breaks the kiss once again to take in the sight of your newly exposed skin. his eyes engulf the expanse of scars on your skin, some older and some looking to be very much recent.

“who did this to you?” he whispers in what seems to be a mixture of awe and anger. hesitantly, he runs a finger across a thin line that spans from your lower belly to your ribcage.

“you did, yeosang.” you say, deadpan.

he pauses, his heart dropping to his stomach.  “excuse me?”

“did you think you were fooling me? seriously, why didn’t you pick a less obvious fake name?” you giggle. despite the vulnerable position you’re in, you clearly hold the upper hand, indulging in his shocked expression. you hadn't missed the bartender's obvious slip up of yeosang's name, and could never forget that deep voice of his that would always taunt you.

“you’re always screwing me over y/n. i didn’t think we’d end up like this”. he says as a smooth recovery.

you roll your eyes. “remember when you gave me this?” you tap at the scar. he shakes his head.

“two years ago. you were trying to get rid of all power in the city. i almost stopped you, so you pegged a knife right here.” 

“if i was trying to kill you, the knife would’ve stuck.” he says defensively. “you got away with a scratch, only because i wanted that.”

“well, thanks for not trying to kill me, kang yeosang. i’m flattered.” you say sarcastically. 

“well, you gave me something worse.” he strips himself of his shirt. to no surprise, his skin is similar to yours. a canvas for an array of marks and scars, most of which you recognize to be your own work.

you point to an especially long one on his collarbone. “that one was definitely me.”

“yeah, and it hurt like a bitch.” he says snarkily.

“well, now we’re both half naked.”

“nice catch.”

“well for convenience’s sake, we may as well get back to-”

his lips are on yours again, effectively shutting you up. you don’t protest - besides, it’s hard to when his tongue is in your mouth. 

what you don’t expect is the cold press of something against your throat, which then trails down to your collarbones. it isn’t pleasant, but not uncomfortable either. it’s sharp against your skin, and your curiosity gets the best of you.

yeosang begins to press open mouthed kisses against your skin, alongside what you now see is a familiar knife in his hand. you begin to feel more vulnerable underneath him, knowing he had complete power over you. yet somehow, you don’t feel afraid of the man who has your life in his hands.

he undoes your jeans, letting out a low whistle at the damp spot forming against your panties. the flat side of the blade presses against your clothed core, earning a whine for him.

"fucking touch me already". you say through gritted teeth, despising that your mortal enemy has you so needy for him.

"am i not already touching you?" he says with a shit eating smirk. fuck him, you think. but that was exactly what you wanted to do.

to your surprise, you hear the sound of fabric ripping, and a sudden cold against your core, as though-

"i liked those." you say frustratedly, finding yeosang pulling away the ripped remnants of your panties away from your core.

"you look far better without them." is all he says before licking an experimental stripe up your already wet hole, earning a breathy moan from you. you don't have it in you to be mouthy when his tongue continues to tease your labia, eventually meeting your clit in what is the most heavenly thing you've ever felt. all thoughts of how much you hate the man currently eating you out are out the window as the pad of his finger presses against your clit, his tongue messily lapping at your hole as if he was just licking for his pleasure rather than yours.

your hips subconsciously grind up in tandem with his tongue, earning small moans from him as well.

"so fucking wet. do you usually get this wet this quickly, or are you just that much of a slut for me?" he chuckles.

it takes every ounce of self control not to flick him on the forehead. the degrading name catches you off guard, yet somehow it makes your hole clench needily. besides, you want what's hidden under the confines of his black jeans far too much to be mean to him right now.

"just... just fill me up, yeosang."

"i like you like this." he says with a cocky smile. it gives you butterflies, even though you know it means nothing more than just a spur of the moment thought. "beg for me a little more, and i'll think about it."

oh, the urge to punch him in the face.

"fuck you."

"that's the plan."

you sigh in frustration. "kang yeosang, my mortal enemy, fill me up with your monster fucking cock until i can't think straight." you say sarcastically.

surprisingly, it's enough for him. it seems you weren't wrong when you said "monster cock" his cock far thicker and longer than any cock you had taken recently. or in general, for that matter.

he must notice the way you gape at it, giggling to himself.

"cond-" you start, but he cuts you off by leaning over to his bedside drawer.

he shuffles around before he finds what he's looking for, sliding on the first condom he finds and coating himself in lube for good measure.

"ready? are you okay?" he asks, lining himself up against your entrance.

you want to roll your eyes, but you know he's just looking out for you. you give him a nod, and it's all it takes for him to push, breaching your wet hole and filling you up perfectly. you can't stop the high whine that leaves your lips. it's embarrassing, but yeosang seems to enjoy it, groaning into your ear.

"you're so fucking tight. expected you to be all stretched out like the whore you are." he whispers into your ear, embarrassingly only making you clench more around him.

you barely need to adjust, needing nothing more than for him to ruin you. his hips set a steady pace, grinding oh so perfectly against you. the tip of his cock perfectly reaches that sweet spot inside you, earning a louder moan for him. you'd be embarrassed with what his neighbours must be hearing, but it's the last thing on your mind when you have such a perfect cock stretching you out.

"fuck, my perfect slut. so nice and tight around my cock, huh? it's like this pussy was made to take my cock." he growls, his thrusts only getting harder and sloppier the closer he gets to his high.

"o-only for you." you cry out, gasping as he fills you up impossibly deep, over and over again. the coil building up in your stomach only gets tighter when his fingers find your clit.

the breaking point is when his lips meet your collarbone, leaving more kisses and tiny bites here and there. the sensations all over are too much for you. you cry out when your orgasm hits you harder than ever before, leaving you breathless. your orgasm triggers his as well, indicated by the long, pleasured groan he lets out.

you can't do anything but catch your breath as he pulls out, taking off the condom, tying it up and throwing it away in the bin next to his bed.

"who knew that all it took was a good fuck to get you weak for me?" yeosang breaks the silence.

"shut up." you say weakly, still too breathless to properly argue back.

"maybe i will, if you make me."

needless to say, he keeps you up for a few more hours until you both fall asleep, the first rays of the sunrise peeking through the blinds of his window.

the next morning, you wake up groggy and exhausted, the drinks and activities from last night finally catching up to your body. to your disappointment, yeosang isn't there next to you, the other side of the bed empty.

of course, the asshole didn't have the decency to wait for you to wake up. reaching out for your phone, you find to your surprise that there's a sticky note on it.

“last night was fun, we should do it again. i've gone out to wreak havoc, so i know our paths will cross again soon anyway.” - your mortal enemy, kang yeosang <3

[aclosetfan]

How did you feel about the way the girls were treated in the movie? I personally think the way the citizens treated the girls was really mean and it got to a point that was way past justified anger at their city being destroyed imo. It was also the professor's fault for not teaching the girls how to control their powers earlier I believe.

The movie rips my heart out. I know that in one of the documentary's Craig was like, "oh, I kind of regret that movie," because it ended up being darker than he felt it should have been. I get where he's coming from, but regardless, I really loved it. I thought the artwork was great, and the girls' personalities really shone through.

Also, the whole game of tag was top-notch, in my opinion! I love the special little detail where you see the girls flying, and their light trails are all different shapes and patterns, showing off their different personalities. I thought that was really creative! I wish I could find a good pic of it, but i can't :(

Anyway, sorry, that's beside the point, but still, I'm a big fan. I think it's a good origin story. We never got one in the original run of the show, so seeing how everything came to be, why the girls ended up superheroes, the whole Mojo thing was excellent. I think it rounded out some details from the original seasons really well.

So, in a way, I guess, I'm fine with how the girls were treated in the movie because if it had been any different, we wouldn't have gotten the stories we did. It still makes me sad, though. The movie's just a real fucking bummer. You have to watch six-year-olds process abandonment on a meteor. That shit hurts.

(more under the cut!)

I blame the movie on my weird relationship with Townsville. Do I like them? Do I not? Are they inherently good? Or bad? When I think about the PowerPunks world, as I show here in this post, I'd argue that Townsville is inherently good. However, all of the recent asks I've gotten have me thinking it over, and I don't know anymore.

I think that the movie really sets up the idea that Townsville doesn't actually love the girls because of who they are, but what they are. Townsville as a whole is an incompetent character, but the movie really solidifies that Townsville may not be incompetent for lovable reasons but selfish ones. Still, for all the shit I give Townsville, I like how their character goals are ambiguous. It makes for a better story.

If HIM is Townsville's all-seeing, omnipotent demon-god, and the Girls are the embodiment of goodness, then maybe the whole of Townsville is the chaotic character to round out the trio. The City is fickle enough for it. IDK!

At the end of the day, I can't say I'm mad at the City for being angry about their homes getting destroyed. I feel that the anger is justified, but they really did play the perfect Frankenstein mob, didn't they? I'm pissed they treated the girls the way they did, but it was so perfectly in character, I can't see them treating the girls any other way at that point in time in the girls' story.

I also don't fault the Professor. I don't think he knew exactly what the girls were capable of, and when he did finally learn, he was arrested immediately and denied access to his kids. The Professor does a lot of not-so-great stuff throughout the show, but he is a single parent, who didn't exactly ask for three little girls, so most of the things he does can be blamed on inexperience. But, generally, he tries his best, you know? I think overall, he's a pretty good dad.

The real villain of this movie is the Townsville Legal System. Mans didn't even have a lawyer, and they tried his ass in court.

Also, one more thing about the movie that I gotta get off my chest:

I think the saddest part of the whole thing was when Buttercup punched that ape and then immediately apologized, saying she hadn't meant to, and that she was sorry, and a good girl, and like, the whole nine yards of a child desperately seeking forgiveness/approval.

But! But! Immediately after that, it wasn't the City, Ms. Keane/Bellum/the Mayor, any of her peers, or the Professor that validated her. It was her sisters (particularly Blossom, but Bubbles was down 100%). Her sisters were the ones who were like, no, Buttercup, you didn't do anything wrong. They (the City) may have told you that was wrong, but we can use what they think are faults to our advantage. And the Powerpuff Girls were really born at that moment.

And it's that right there that totally solidifies the sisters' relationship in my mind. Idk why; I can't put it into words. I just think that was a crucial moment.

[angelswithcigarettes]

“To find a way to cope”

Summary: Morgan finds Spencer's notebooks filled with partly disturbing drawings and poems and learns once again how much of what Spencer feels he doesn't know how to express and how much happened in his childhood he never talks about.

AU: [This is an AU in which Morgan and Reid share a house (as friends). The parts can be read independently.]

Warnings: Past Sexual Abuse

Relevant Tags: Autistic Spencer Reid, Suicidal Thoughts

Word Count: 4626

First Chapter:

Notes: Since this series is the follow up serious to another one of mine "Green" (I will link it in the endnote) there can be some confusion if you haven't read it. But here is a short summary of it so you don't have to read it all and can still 'enjoy' this:

In the story "Green" Spencer gets together with Lola who abuses him following up this abuse he stays with Morgan who helps him recover as much as that is possible. Spencer doesn't want to go back to his apartment so Morgan decides that it is time for a change, they move in together in one of the houses Morgan renovated ones.

They each have their own privacy, their own floors including bathrooms and bedrooms and each of them has their own office but its not a secret to anyone that they also don't have much privacy because at some part after living together for so many years the embarrassment or shame for many things just faded.

However when Morgan picks up a box of books in the basement while looking for his old baseball equipment he feels bad when he looks inside of them.

They are notebooks, written in with black ink and he can tell that it's Spencer handwriting. There is a date on the corner, the note book is hardly a month old. He puts it away and grabs one from further down, revealing another date from eight years ago and he opens up a random page and starts reading.

"And if you look at me

Look at me for another moment

See me

If you really see me

Can you look at me the same again."

It's seems to be an attempt of poetry and Morgan opens another page finding a scetch of a person. Also in blank ink. Their hands scratching at their eyes, looking like they are screaming.

He reads another poem.

"Can you hear me screaming?

Did you hear me screaming for you? You hands burning my skin,you hands burning my innocence.

Can you hear me screaming?

In the latest night, can you hear me screaming?

Did you hear him burning my skin, his hands burning my innocence."

Morgan can feel an unsettling feeling spread through his body, these are too old to be from the time with Lola, judging by the date he must have been in his early twenties.

He looks into another notebook finding a lot of sketches and a few of them look similar to people Morgan had seen before, he figures they are unsubs and then he opens another scatch and it looks like a women, warning a gun holster and having a glass in her hand, her hair shoulder long and judging by the date this is Elle.

Morgan picks up another one, it is dated for approximately a year ago. The drawing shows their house but the windows are barricaded with wood and nails, only a light shining out of Morgan's room and a kitten is sitting in front of their doorstep, skinny and looking up to the doorbell handing in front of the door that is also barricaded.

The next one is a drawing from their kitchen and it shows Morgan, at least he thinks so, sitting at the table with his hand on his head the other around a coffee cup and on the kitchen counter are files stacked and the kitchen table is filled with overflowing cups.

There is a third, showing their bathroom and there is a liquid on the floor,again every drawing is held black ink but he guesses its blood and a handprint on the mirror and in front of the puddle and then there is a hand sticking out from behind the curtain from which the liquid drops down.

The fourth is what makes Morgan want take the notebook with him, it's a man standing in the door and by the tattoos he can make out that it is supposed to be him but he is wearing a mask and he is holding Spencer's stuff animal in his hand while wearing only Jean's and boots no shirt. Morgan can make out that this is supposed to be Spencer's room.

The worst he finds in that notebook is one of a women, sitting on a chair, her head leaned back and her arms sliced open, blood dripping down on the floor and by the necklace, the gun at her hip and the long slightly curly hair Morgan dares to assume that this is supposed to be JJ.

He puts the notebook aside and pulls out one from the time when he started at the BAU and the first drawing is of a little boy with glasses standing in the bullpen that is crowded with files. The second is a room filled with bees at the wall and an empty chair in the middle.

Morgan knew Spencer can draw he didn't know how well he does.

There are a few sketches of Morgan and Gideon and a lot of JJ. And many butterflies and with the ripped out pages in between he guessed that he draw them for her.

He quickly puts everything away when he hears Spencer walking down the stairs but goes back down to grab the one with the poem about the 'burning hands' the one with the sketch from Elle and the one with the drawings from the house and the women on the chair and for weeks he hides them in his office and eventually started profiling a few of them but quickly stopped that, feeling uncomfortable.

"What are you drawing?" He asks stepping into Spencer's office and the man shuts the notebook again.

"I don't draw."

"You don't?"

"No, I haven't in years."

"You haven't?"

"No, I am horrible at that." Morgan steps closer and it fits what he had found downstairs. The little pencil case open, only black pens inside and a pencil with a rubber. "What did you want?"

"Nothing just wanted to check in on you." Looking over he sees another stack of papers, and in a box next to his desk watercolours. "Its getting pretty stuffed in here."

"I like it. And I would like for you to leave now."

"I will." Apologetic Morgan takes his hands up and leaves the room.

There is a high chance that Spencer knows himself that his drawings are concerning and that that is the reason he is so defensive over people knowing he draws.

He keeps his findings a secret for a few more days until he gets to concerned and tries again talking to him about it but the moment he takes the word drawings in his mouth Spencer denies having drawn in the last years and accuses him of having sniffed around his office for things he draw as a teenager.

So he takes the notebooks and in a quiet moment walks up to Hotch's office who is similar concerned by them. For him the worst is one of Spencer himself, someone pressing a hand over his mouth and him into a pillow next to a poem about the lyrical I suffocating.

"There are more that hint at sexual abuse."

"He has a history we know that."

"Some are older than what happened with Lola."

"Did you try talking to him about these?"

"He claims he hasn't drawn in years." Hotch looks further through it finding more and more thinks he finds concerning.

"There are quite a lot of you."

"That's why I am here. I was hoping he maybe would rather talk to you about it. I can't explain why the drawings are portraying me like that." Hotch looks down on the page of a drawing of Morgan laying on the couch, the TV running but he is sleeping. On the table a ashtray with smoke coming from it on the floor next to the couch, multiple books that block his way and lianas hanging from the ceiling one close to curling itself completely around his neck.

"You have a theory?"

"My first guess was that something in the house made him feel captured, or even me but I am not sure."

"I would actually say that it's the opposite. That he feels like he captures you."

"Me?"

"This doesn't look like he is the one captured." He points at another painting showing Morgan standing in the kitchen, one half of his body having spiders all over it his other side being completely normal beside the fingers that in the end turn into bees and more bees flying away from it. "Are you okay?"

"You see this drawings and you ask if I am okay?"

"Besides that these drawing are definitely not something that leave you unaffected there are a few that a showing you in a vulnerable state he probably saw this before drawing it in his own interpretation."

"I am fine, I don't know why he draws me like that."

"Alright I will talk to him about it." Morgan initially wanted to go to JJ with this but she really doesn't need to see the drawings of herself being death by suicide. There is the one on the chair but also one hanging out of a tree with wings on her back.

For Hotch the most disturbing once are the two from a child, being beaten and in the other drawing having wings sitting on top of a clip, stars around them.

Morgan brings him the other notebooks too and in the earlier once its clear that he draws what he sees on cases and around himself. The poems not so much.

But the younger the note books the more it concerns his friends and random children.

Hotch doesn't find many of himself, but there is a notebook around the time Emily died that breaks his heart and when she came back the drawings change to something with more anger and eventually one that shows Spencer and him sitting in his office, Spencer looking at Hotch, Hotch doing the same but behind Hotch stands Emily or JJ he can't tell having a hand on his shoulder and covering his mouth while Spencer has a ghost behind him, covering his eyes.

He thinks long about if he wants to talk to him about the notebooks because Spencer seems to use this to cope and that is a good thing no matter how violent they look but on the other hand it seems like something is really bothering him so after weeks of debating he hands Morgan the box back saying that it feels wrong for him to interfere and Morgan first gets angry but then agrees that it is better if he first talks to him and then can offers Spencer to talk to Hotch if he rather wants that.

So eventually Morgan breaks the ice at a dinner picking up the box and placing it on the table. "You know what this is?"

"A box"

"You know what's in it?" He asks and Spencer nods with worry in his eyes. "I found it in the basement while cleaning it out."

"Did you-" Nervous he bites on the inside of his lip.

"I did"

"They are mine" He tells him, the fear clearly audible in his voice.

"I know, I am just a little bit worried about you, there is some pretty dark stuff in there."

"You weren't supposed to see."

"But I did and I just want to make sure that everything is alright."

"Yes they are just drawings."

"They are not just drawings."

"And poems."

"Not what I mean kid" Morgan grabs the notebook on top and sits down in front of him opening the page with the drawing of their house. "Is this our house?"

"Yes"

"Can you tell me why you draw this?" Spencer shrugs ones, tears in his eyes. "These are yours and I am not judging you or am mad I just think that some of these, because this notebook was finished a few weeks ago, need talking about. And I am just trying to help you."

"I don't know why I draw this."

"What about the cat? Is that Garfield?" Garfield is an old cat they adapted years ago and died.

"Yes"

"You still miss him?"

"Sometimes I wish he comes home again but then nothing is open here anymore."

"Garfield is dead and even if he wasn't dead when we got the call he would be by now." Morgan tells him in a gentle voice. "So this is about Garfield not coming back in,not you feeling captured in here?"

A nod.

"See that's why I think talking about this is good because I completely miss interpreted this."

"Did you see all of them?"

"Yes"

"All of them?"

"Yeah, I looked through them." He nods and then a tears rolls down his face. "Come on we go over to the couch for this, we cuddle up with your stuff lion and we talk about these, you can lean against me no need to look me in the eyes or for me to see your face." Morgan over the years found out that that is what makes him feel the most comfortable while talking. Either on car rides when Morgan can't tear his eyes from the road or while walking somewhere or placed so that Morgan isn't looking into his face.

Spencer ignores the offer to get his stuff animal from upstairs but he takes the thick blanket while Morgan pulls out the cautions from underneath making the couch bigger and then leans against him and Morgan opens the next page.

It's the drawing from Morgan in the kitchen, the files everywhere and the cups on the table. "What's with the Cubs?"

"I don't remember."

"Mr I have an eidetic memory that's very hard to believe."

"Sometimes everything gets dirty in our kitchen."

"And that bothers you?"

"I try cleaning it but it seems like it doesn't get better even when everything is properly stored."

"And the files?"

"It always happens when we have many cases after another and then it isn't fun coming home anymore."

"Because its dirty?"

"Because it's all tight" He tries to explain how the house feels to him. "We can't move in here."

"Is that the same thing you wanted to express with this?" Morgan asks opening the page of him laying on the couch with the lianas from the ceiling.

"Yes and- and that I- that I take your energy away."

"Okay one point after the other, what is it with the house being to tight? We have a lot of space and a lot of garden and everything, what makes it tight?"

"I don't know sometimes it just is." He tells him moving his head back on Morgan's arm shutting his eyes for a moment and then breathing in deeply.

"We don't have to do this all now if its to much for you" He tells him worried about how this affects Reid. "You just explain it the best way you think I will see about the rest."

"You won't get me."

"I do, it's tight in here sometimes, like you can't move."

"Yes"

"And cleaning doesn't help"

"Yes"

"See not that bad"

"It makes me feel bad." He continues and then hits his thigh ones. "Like I need to run."

"Like you need to run?"

"Yes. Like I have to move. Like my legs haven't moved enough."

"Because it's to tight in here?"

"Yes."

"What about you taking my energy away? What do you mean by that?" Spencer turns his head away not looking at the page but then eventually speaks.

"I am really not an easy friend."

"For me you are."

"No I am not."

"You are not taking my energy away."

"You could do a lot more thinks if it wasn't for me." Spencer justifies his statement.

"Like what?" But he just shakes his head still facing away from him and Morgan tries encouraging him to talk to Hotch but Spencer denies the offer so Morgan moves his hand down around his waist and pulls him closer again. "C'mon you did so good with the first drawings and we won't have to talk about this one any more we can just move on to another.”

Rest on Ao3 (I can’t post more words in here I’m sorry):

[thatsbucknasty]

she used to be mine (ix) waitress au

summary: Inspired by the broadway musical. Y/N Beck is a pie baking force to be reckoned with. She’s pregnant with her lazy ass husband, Quentin Beck’s baby. As everything around her turns upside down, Doctor James Buchanan Barnes charms his way into her life.

pairing: Y/N x Bucky

tags are still open :3

chapter 9: you matter to me

I can’t believe I’m done for today. I almost thought I’d never finish these pies and my feet are killing me. What I would give to be one of those rich soccer moms who drive nice SUV’s and go to brunch and get massages.

I’m done baking but I need to clean the mess and I don’t think I’ll be able to. I need to sit down for a bit and rest my back against something soft, like my mattress. I miss my mattress. I wish I could leave the dishes and get home already.

The bell rings and it startles me from my reverie. Did Nat forget something? She always forgets her wallet or keys.

“Nat is that you?” I yell from the kitchen.

The door opens and I see the last person I was expecting.

“Bucky. What- what are you doing here? Is there a problem?”

“Hi, no, I just wanted to see you, I- needed to see you”. He closes the space between us and I feel my heart in my throat.

“Is that alright?” He asks politely.

“What?” I’m too distracted by him and I’m not sure I even heard what he said.

“Is it alright for me to be here? I brought you a gift” He smiles a tight lipped smile and my senses are on edge, I can smell the sweetness of his cologne and it’s just the right amount of lavender and sandalwood for me to want to run into his arms but I stay put, my arms stiff on my sides.

“Did you? Why? It’s not my birthday”.

“It’s an apology present. I’m sorry for being an ass and making you feel uncomfortable. Here, open it”.

I grab the box and rip the light purple paper apart.

“It’s a Bundt pan!” I say to him while tears start to form in my eyes.

“And it’s non-stick!” He points out with the most adorable excited grin on his face.

“Oh my god, this is the sweetest thing someone’s ever done for me, thank you, Bucky!” I can’t resist it now and throw my arms around his neck.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart”. He wraps his arms around my waist and even though my growing belly stands between us, it still feels amazing to be held by him again.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I shouldn’t have crossed any boundaries between us, I know, but you need to know how much you matter to me. I’m here to tell you I’ll be here for you whenever you’re ready. I don’t care if it’s today, tomorrow, or a year from now, I just need one thing from you”.

“And what is that?” I take a step back from his embrace to see his steel blue eyes looking serious but vulnerable at me.

“I need you to not push me away, and everyone else who wants to help you, for that matter!  Do you think you could do that?” 

He takes a strand of hair away from my face and I know I could never deny him anything when he’s looking at me like I’m the only thing in the universe. I hold his hand in both of mine and bring it to my lips ever so gently, his forehead rests on mine and I whisper yes to him.

“I promise to not push you away, or my friends. You and this diner have become the most important people around me and I know me and my baby are gonna need you guys... But you and I, we need to take things slow okay?”

“I could go slow, yeah!” He throws his arms around me again and this time he squeezes the life out of me, beaming in excitement.

“Okay, doctor, you’re crushing the little peanut now”. I try to say between giggles and jagged breaths.

“Sorry, sorry!”

“It’s okay, I need to sit down though, too many emotions for a day”.

He helps me down a stool and sits next to me.

“Hey, so what do you say I invite you to dinner tonight?” 

“Tonight like right now?” 

“Why not? I bet you’re hungry”.

“Oh-kay… where will we go though? I don’t mean to be picky but my stomach can’t really take just whatever at the moment”.

“You still struggling with morning sickness?”

“I get morning sickness, afternoon sickness, middle of the night sickness, you name it”.

“Y/N you should tell me these things, I’m your doctor! I can prescribe you something!”

“Right, I just didn’t know how to talk to you after that day”.

“Oh. Right, I understand. Well, let’s get you something at the pharmacy before we get dinner, what are you in the mood for?”

He helps me clean up the kitchen and lock up the diner and we talk about the girls and Sam, nurse Maria’s latest antics at the hospital and how much he’s missed my pies. After an hour or so, we get into his car, I turn on the radio and we enjoy the music while he drives away.

~

Always on my mind

Always alone

You could be miles and miles away

But somehow you're close

If I can't have the cake

And I can't eat it too

I guess the sound of your voice and the ache

It'll just have to do

Cause the trouble with wanting is I want you

The trouble with wanting is I want you

The trouble with wanting is I want you

And I want you all the time

-

We stop by the pharmacy and I wait in the car while Bucky goes inside to get some pills that are supposed to help me keep down my meals instead of puking them out, he also brings me an ice lolly to help my dizziness and nausea. We park at an Italian restaurant and I notice a man and a woman get into the car next to us. He’s here and he brought Alice. Bucky’s about to get out to open my door when I grab his hand.

“Stop”.

“What’s wrong? Are you feeling sick again?”

“Yes, but it’s not-” I sight and signal Bucky to look over my shoulder.

He sees them too and his eyes grow angry at the man who used to love me.

“Do you want us to leave?” He says without taking his eyes off of Quentin.

“No, I think they’re leaving, let’s just wait here”.

“You sure? Do you want me to go out there and confront him?”

“What?! No! Why would I- no, it’s fine, Bucky. That’s just gonna make things worse, he was already jealous of you at the hospital, I could tell. I don’t need any other obstacle in the way of divorcing his lying, cheating ass”.

Bucky finally looks at me when they drive away and holds my hand in his. He brings his lips to my knuckles and steps out of the car to open my door. We enter the dimly lit restaurant and a young waiter takes our order. Bucky gets the pesto spaghetti and I order the chicken marinara.

“You don’t deserve this. I know you know you’re better off without him but still, he was your husband and you loved him once, so… I’m sorry you had to see them together”.

“Thank you. I’m alright though. I guess seeing him with Alice made it even more tangible, permanent, but maybe that’s exactly what I needed to get motivated and work my ass off until I can pay that lawyer and be done with this quickly”.

“Hey, speaking of that, did you pay the hospital bills already?” 

“I will, on Monday, after that I can start saving up for the divorce and when the birth happens I might have to ask for a loan. I don’t know how, but I’m determined to get through this, for my baby”.

“I respect you for that, but Y/N, you really don’t have to work your ass off, matter of fact, for your own health and your baby’s, you shouldn’t. Here’s what’s gonna happen: you’re gonna let me pay for the past hospital bill- and before you say anything, being a doctor there, I’m sure they will give me a discount, so you don’t have to worry about it, you can keep your savings and call that lawyer as soon as possible, okay?”

I look straight ahead and think about it for a minute. We had this conversation before and I think it’s time for me to stop being so proud and stubborn. The sooner I get rid of Quentin, the better it’ll be for my own peace of mind.

“Okay. But-”

“No, no buts! You’re gonna take it and I’m also going to pick you up from work from now on, you shouldn’t be walking after long hours of standing. When I’m done for the day at the hospital I’ll give you a ride home, when I’m late and have to stay extra hours Sam will drive you home, alright?”

“Wait, how d’you know Sam?”

“Um. it’s a long story, but we talked about this and he agreed”.

“Alright then”.

“Alright then”. He echoes my words and I scoff at him.

“I didn’t know you were so bossy, Doctor”.

“I’m not”. He smiles down at me from across the table. “I care about you and I’m gonna do everything in my power to make sure you get through this in one piece. This baby is only going to be a healthy, happy little girl if her mamma is also healthy and happy”.

“Right now I’m pretty happy”. I admit and take a bite from my plate.

“Yeah? Italian food makes you happy. Duly noted”. He winks and I feel so complete in this moment. There’s nothing that could pop this little bubble we’re in. 

-

chapter 10: I didn’t plan it

[imo-chan-imagines]

『 Haikyuu!! Week 2020 | Day 6 』

· Sept. 30th → We Don’t Need Things Like Memories ·

Characters: female!reader, Sawamura Daichi, Sugawara Koushi, Kuroo Testurou, Ushijima Wakatoshi, Oikawa Tooru

Prompts: B. beginnings and endings

Tags/warnings: Haikyuu!! (anime), PG, fluff, some serious angst, beginnings and endings, headcanons, HaikyuuWeek2020

A/N: I thought I'd just go ahead and rip my own heart out by writing these headcanons about what some of the Haikyuu boys are like when the relationship starts out (beginnings) and what they're like when you break up (endings). I mean, why not? Fluff, angst, emotional pain and suffering? I may as well 🙃

All of my Haikyuu Week 2020 posts are SFW, but I write NSFW stuff on my blog too *wiggles eyebrows* Feel free to take a look! Thanks for reading 🙏 Please enjoy ♡

Haikyuu × reader / beginnings and endings

☆ Sawamura Daichi ☆

Beginnings

You probably confess to him first

He's a bit dense when it comes to picking up on the signs. He tends to get his hopes up and then brush it off as friendliness

'She just likes you as a friend, Daichi. Stop reading into it' *entire theatre of people smack their foreheads in unison*

He's dumbfounded for a second or two, processing what you just told him

Then he asks you out. No hesitation, no shyness, no awkwardness. Just pure, confident Daichi

He's literally living on cloud nine for the next few weeks because, holy shit, he's dating you

Has the biggest smile on his face whenever you're out together

And he's very protective, but not in an overbearing way

Sometimes, he places his hand on your thigh while he's driving and slowly strokes this thumb over the soft skin

And he gets all adorably bashful when he has to keep introducing you to people as his girlfriend!!

There's literally nothing he wouldn't do for you, and that's coming from a cop

Endings

When you tell him you want to break up, he hears it over and over in his head like a broken record

He keeps asking himself how this happened, and he wants to beg you to change your mind

But he respects your decision. He won't keep an immature grudge or start yelling. He just regrets

With a small, fake smile, he says he's actually been thinking the same recently

l i a r

All because he doesn't want you to feel bad or awkward about leaving him behind

Daichi's civil when you come to collect your things from his place, and when he sees you out with some other guy, even though his heart is literally cracking inside his chest

He blames himself, of course. He should have done more to keep you. He should have made more time for you. He should have stayed as loving and attentive as he was at the beginning

But he got comfortable. Complacent. And he started taking you for granted

Oh, the stinging irony of hindsight

☆ Sugawara Koushi ☆

Beginnings

He approached you at a café with a bashful smile and a hesitant hand behind his head, and asked you for your number

A few weeks of texting, sexting, and casual encounters later, you went official

He couldn't be a better boyfriend. He's always so kind, and attentive, and loving, and cute

He covers the bed in rose petals on special occasions like an absolute sweetheart

He loves buying couple's items: shirts, bracelets, mugs, necklaces – you name it. He's old-school cringy like that

He showers you with kisses, praises the hell out of you, and can't stop asking how he got so damn lucky to be with you

He gives the softest hugs, the most sensual kisses

When he snaps a new photo of you, he sets it to his lockscreen so he can stare at you even when you're not there

He innocently kisses your nose in public, only to grab a handful of your ass for a second or two, below the level of everyone's eyes

You always loved it when he did that

Endings

There's a pit in his stomach when the words pass your lips, and a voice in the back of his head telling him 'Oh. Right. Of course. You knew this would happen. You were never really good enough for her, anyway'

He has to fight back the tears because he refuses to cry in front of you

It's a painful, stinging acceptance that laces his mind and tongue. It never really would have worked. Would it?

When you leave, Suga attempts to go about his regualr routine. To be fine

But his hand is shaking uncontrollably and he drops the mug in his hand, and watches as it smashes into pieces on the kitchen floor

You bought him that mug. And that, of all things, is the one to break him

The tears come over him in weak, silent sobs as he doubles-over the sink, his throat too constricted to allow any sound to escape

He cries so hard that he throws up in the sink

The weeks pass, melt away into months, and he's doing better. Doing well

Until he comes across an old shirt you left behind and never came back for, and the memories all come flooding back

That night, he cries himself hoarse, until he can't feel his face

No matter how hard he tries, he can't forget you. Your nails are dug into him even now, holding him down in his misery

☆ Kuroo Testurou ☆

Beginnings

He asked you out with some cheesy pickup line, something that made you groan and grin at the same time

He couldn't believe his luck when it worked

He tries to take things slowly, be reasonable. But all that caves in when you melt him with that smile of yours

You quickly become the centre of his world

He sends you flowers and chocolates to your work, just so you know he's thinking about you

He'll kiss your hands when you're cuddling together on the sofa, like an old married couple

He constantly texts you to make sure you're okay, sometimes sexting you to demonstrate just how much he's thinking about you

He takes his time and explains things about science that you don't get, just so you don't feel left out

When a guy's been looking at you too much, he grabs you by the waist and pulls you in for a messy kiss, his hands working their way down to your ass

For your sixth month anniversary, he surprises you with a cockapoo to raise together, and suggests the name Furby, for some reason it sticks

He somehow always makes time to walk through the park and look at the cherry blossoms with you, even though he's really busy

He dances with you down the vegetable aisle at the grocery store just because, and couldn't care less about the people watching

He's constantly trying to make you laugh with the dorkiest things, because he thinks that's when you're at your prettiest

He would do anything to keep seeing that smile every day

Endings

You tell him he's moving too fast

He's in denial. He tells you he understands, but he doesn't

You leave the dog with him. And he knows it's unfair, but Furby reminds him of you

But he's lucky he still has the dog, because it's the only thing that keeps him going normally

As the weeks pass, he tries to leave you be and give you your space like he promised, but he just can't. His heart won't let him

It's 11:00 pm and he's knocking on your door, begging for you to open up and talk to him. To give him a another chance. To reconsider

He can hear you quietly sobbing on the other side of the door, and he knows you're second-guessing your decision, maybe even regretting it

It gives him hope that, if he doesn't give up, you'll come back to him, because it hasn't been the same without you

He hears your favourite song on the radio and has to sit down on the floor of the vegetable aisle at the supermarket before his legs give out

He sees your favourite restaurant and he can't pass without ordering a meal and crying into his food

He goes looking for fights with assholes at the gas station so he can let off some steam, and doesn't care if he spends the night in a cell with a black eye and bleeding knuckles

He hasn't been thinking straight, he doesn't care what happens to him anymore

And the crazy thing is, he'd still do anything for you, because you're the first real love of his life, and he can't forget you

He won't give up on you. It isn't in his blood

☆ Ushijima Wakatoshi ☆

Beginnings

Ushijima never really knew what to do when you expressed an interest in him

You only started going out because Tendou read between the lines and made things happen

So now that you're finally together, he never really does anything that differently

It's just business as usual...plus you

If you want something from him, you have to ask specifically, or he won't pick up on it, so you have to be proactive in the Netflix and chill department

He actually thinks you just want to watch TV and relax

He's painfully blunt, but without any hidden agenda or meanness about him

And he cannot deny the small, warm glow he feels when you're there for him at his games

But he does try to make you happy

He shares his food whenever you ask, he lets you wear his clothes and thinks it's adorable how they dwarf you, he pats your head when you've done well, and holds you when you're feeling sad

And slowly but surely, he gets accustomed to you being there for him at every turn

And you're happy together, as honest best friends and close lovers

Endings

At first, he doesn't feel anything. It's what you want, so it's fine, right?

He got on just fine before you came along, and he'll do just fine with you gone. And it isn't spiteful, he genuinely believes it

He goes about his regular business, and everything's okay, just the same as it was before you

But as the days pass, it creeps up on him. He doesn't even know what it is as first, this dull, painful ache settling in the middle of his chest

He even Googles the symptoms when the pain gets too strong

It takes seeing you laughing in the arms of another man for him to realise that it's heartache

Crippling, agonising heartache, because he misses you

For the first time in his life, his legs go so weak underneath him that he can barely stand. He has to leave. He can't watch any more

He sits alone in his room, staring at the wall opposite, trying to get his head around it. To try and understand

Because he doesn't. He was fine before you came along. So why now? What had changed?

Ushijima comes to the conclusion that he's changed. And that you changed him

You showed him something he never thought he'd understand, reconstructed the fibres of his nature, made it so he couldn't live without you

And now you're gone

☆ Oikawa Tooru ☆

Beginnings

He was hesitant. He doesn't just let people in. But he can trust you, that's what he keeps telling himself

He hopes it doesn't feel condescending that he chose you over every other girl, and tries desperately to make it apparent just how much he loves you

He makes an effort to show that he cares. He prioritises you, over everyone and everything

Your wish is his command. He wants to be that Prince Charming. That knight in shining armour

He's softer, more fragile, on the inside than you thought he'd be

He needs a lot of reassurance, and loves it when you gently stroke his hair

You share your deepest, darkest secrets, and you realise what a broken, vulnerable boy is in front of you, offering you his heart

But he sure knows how to laugh. His dates are the best. He always knows just where to take you

Those nights when you end up tangled together on the sofa, just listening to each other's heartbeats, are like Elysium to you

Endings

He can't believe what he's hearing. You promised you'd never hurt him

Disbelief, doubt, realisation, confusion anger, sadness – he gets mental whiplash as it all washes over him in a matter of seconds

Tooru punches the wall, leaving a crumbling hole the shape of his fist in the drywall

"YOU PROMISED," he shouts, red hot tears threatening to spilling over his eyes and down his cheeks. "You...promised..." he repeats weakly, sinking to the floor

You go to touch his shoulder, but he shakes you off and tells you to get out

Once you're gone, he breaks down in a sobbing heap on the floor, angry at himself, angry at you, angry at world for making him think he actually had a chance at happiness

He burns whatever you left at his place. He can't stand the sight of it

He tries to get over you by going to party after party, downing bottle after bottle, hooking up with girl after girl – but it's hollow. Empty. Meaningless. Because none of them are you

He convinces himself that that's a good thing, as he stares at the hole in the wall that he refuses to fix

Because if they're not you, they can't hurt him

© imo-chan-imagines 2020

[sanders-specs]

Analogical prompt: Logan can't help, but notice that Virgil only has one hoodie which is old and tattered. He takes it upon himself to sew a new one for Virgil to give to him as a gift.

Scraps 

A/N: This was really fun to write so I hope you enjoy it! 

tag list: @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @dan-yuna @tripleaaaqueer @lilbeanblr @helloisthisusernametaken @justanotherpurplebutterfly @alwaysmy-lilith @ilylogan @logically-trans @seas-space-and-stardust @generalfandomfabulousness @arentordinaryvillainsadorable​ @nico-holly

“Virgil, is that another hole in your jacket?” Logan asked, frowning at the bit of shirt poking through his boyfriend’s hoodie. 

Virgil looked down. “Huh, i guess it is.” 

Logan frowned, but he didn’t say anything else. He knew that, for whatever reason, Virgil was very attached to his jacket. No matter what Logan or anyone else said, he knew that Virgil wouldn’t get rid of it. 

At least, that’s what Logan thought. Which is why he was startled when he caught Virgil balling up the jacket and ready to throw it in the trash. 

“What are you doing?” Logan asked before Virgil could throw it away. 

Virgil looked up at him. “It ripped,” he said, looking more upset than Logan thought one would be about an already tattered and ripped jacket. 

Logan took the jacket to asses the damage, but he saw what made Virgil finally decide to throw it out. There was a large rip straight down the back of it. It would be completely useless now, more than it had been before. 

The doorbell rang then, jerking Logan out of his thoughts. “That must be Patton,” he said, lowering the heap of fabric and looking at Virgil, who looked less than pleased to go out without his jacket. Logan gently took his hand. “Wear my blue sweater. It’s not the same, but it’s something.” 

Virgil visibly relaxed as he nodded and kissed Logan before going upstairs to get it. When he came back down, he gave Logan another kiss. “See you later tonight.” 

“Bye.” Logan smiled softly as Virgil left. 

With his boyfriend gone for the rest of the day, Logan regarded the jacket for a moment. Though he could never really understand why Virgil loved the thing so much, he couldn’t deny the sadness in Virgil’s eyes as he’d been about to throw it away. 

Making up his mind, Logan grabbed his phone and found the number he needed to call. 

“Roman? where can I find those fabrics you get all the time?” 

It took the better part of the day for Logan to get the supplies and then a design thought out, and by then Virgil was home so he waited until the next day when Patton decided “out of the blue” that he and Virgil should go to the dog park, which freed Logan to finish his surprise. 

When Virgil came home that night, there was a box waiting for him on the table. Logan was sitting on the couch, reading. 

“What’s this?” Virgil asked, sitting down next to Logan. 

“Oh, just a present.” 

Virgil raised an eyebrow and grabbed the box. “A present?” 

“Yes. For you.” 

His boyfriend gave him a strange look before opening the box. For a moment, he just stared at it. 

“You…made this?” he asked, picking up the brand new jacket. Logan set his book aside and sat up. 

“Well, you seemed very upset to lose your old jacket, and I know how much you loved it. So I thought I would make you a new jacket from the old one,” Logan explained. 

The jacket was, for the most part, a deep purple. However there were patches both on the inside and the outside sewn into the new jacket that were made from Virgil’s old jacket. It was not a style Logan would have chosen for himself, which had made it slightly hard to determine what Virgil would like the best, however Roman had assured him that this was perfectly in Virgil’s style. 

Now, Logan bit his lip anxiously as he waited for some sort of reaction from his boyfriend, afraid for a moment that he had gotten the style wrong or that perhaps the color was not right (which was absurd, Logan knew. He’d chosen that shade of purple specifically because he knew it was Virgil’s favorite). 

He needn’t have worried. Virgil dropped the jacket back into the box and threw his arms around Logan. 

“Thank you so much,” Virgil muttered, holding onto Logan tightly. 

Logan wrapped his arms around Virgil’s waist to pull him closer. “You seemed so upset to lose your other one.” 

“Yeah,” Virgil pulled back and smiled at him. “But this one is better.” 

“Oh?” Logan furrowed his eyebrows. “Why is that?” 

Virgil laughed and put the jacket on, smiling at the way the sleeves fell just past his hands the way he liked it. “I loved the other one so much because it’s the first gift you ever gave me after we became a couple. Remember our second date? It was freezing out and I forgot my jacket in the car and you bought me a new one so I wouldn’t be cold.” 

Logan nodded. “I recall, though I am surprised it stuck with you for so long.” 

Virgil shrugged. “I was a little self conscious…I still couldn’t believe you really liked me. It was the first time it really sunk in that you cared about me.” 

“Of course I did, I always have,” Logan said, surprised. 

Virgil blushed and looked away. “It was hard to believe at the time,” he muttered. 

Logan gently put a finger under Virgil’s chin and raised his head so they were looking each other in the eye. “It’s very hard not to care about you. I”ll make a thousand jackets for you if it means you’ll be happy.” 

Virgil’s eyes went wide and he pulled away to look down at the jacket. “You made this?!” 

Logan let out a surprised laugh. “Yes, did you think I bought it?” 

“Well…yeah.” Virgil laughed. “How the hell did you make this in a day?” 

“Technically two.” 

Virgil shook his head. “You’re amazing.” 

“Thank you,” Logan said, pleased with himself, even more so as Virgil wrapped himself up in it, leaning against Logan’s side. 

“I love you,” Virgil said, nuzzling into Logan’s neck. 

“I love you too,” Logan responded, kissing the top of his head. 

[wwwafflewrites]

The Dealbreaker

Chapter 5

The ‘road trip’ lasted for three more years. You were twenty now, and he was twenty-five. Today was the ten year anniversary of the fire when you were a child. The fire that had killed your parents, and left your brother responsible for you.

He was a nervous wreck.

You tried a few probing questions, but they got you nowhere. His lips were shut tight and they wouldn’t be admitting anything anytime soon. What had him so wound up?

“Hey, seriously, what’s wrong?” You asked him.

He got up. “I have an important phone call to make.”

You squinted at him as he left the room. What phone call? You’ve been unemployed for six years. What could be so important?

You rolled your eyes. He would never tell you.

You tiptoed to the door, creaking it open just a notch so you could press your ear to the opening and listen.

“—been ten years,” he said, pacing. There was a long pause as he listened to the speaker. “We’re in Sioux Falls. I—yeah. Yes, I am. Please hurry, I feel like I’m going crazy.” He was nearly on the verge of tears, breaking down and pulling at his hair. “Yeah.” His voice cracked.

He sucked in a breath, wiping away his tears and sniffing. “No, I’m fine. I’m good. Just please hurry? Thank you. I owe you everything. No, I’m not kidding.” He paused again. “Okay, bye.”

You scurried back to the bed just before he opened the door. His eyes were red. “There’s a lot of pollen out there,” he said.

Sure, you thought. You wished he trusted you. You wished he wouldn’t keep you so far in the dark about these things. You wanted to see him, the real him. Even if it was still just a scared little boy. At least it would be real, and not just a facade put up like a mask every day.

As an hour passed, he began to isolate himself.

That was your breaking point. “Okay, what is going on with you? You’ve been flighty ever since this morning and I don’t know what is going on with you, but just know you can trust me. You don’t have to lie to me and—”

There was a knock on the door.

“Who is that?” you ask him, and your brother just stands and moves to answer the door. “Who is that?” you ask again, frustrated and angry with his strange behavior.

He pulled the door open and you were dead silent.

A little voice whispered in your mind: Winchester.

“You—you two—what are you—” you breathed. “Is my brother in trouble?”

Dean shot a look to you, then to your brother, to you again, and back to your brother. “You didn’t tell her?”

“I was going to… I just—”

“You weren’t going to tell me anything. You’ve been ignoring me all day! What is going on with you?!”

Sam crouched down to where your brother sat on the bed, head in his hands. Sam murmured, “You have to tell her.”

“I can’t,” he cried. “I can’t I can’t I can't—”

“You have to.”

Your brother sobbed into his hands, and you had never seen him so fragile.

“Whatever it is,” you said carefully, “you can tell me.” Please, please tell me, you thought.

Your brother shuddered. “I’m going to die today.”

You blinked. “What?”

Dean intervened. “Okay,” he said. “Guess we have to give you the talk. Sit down.”

You were still trying to wrap your mind around what your brother said. “What do you mean you’re going to die today? What does that mean—?”

“Did you not hear me? Sit down. You aren’t helping. You’re just freaking him out,” Dean told you.

You sat down.

“Ten years ago, there was a house fire. I’m sure you remember.”

“Of course I remember. Today’s the anniversary. My parents died that day. And you… you two were there. You saved my brother.”

Dean sighed. “Yeah, but we didn’t save you.”

“Well, yeah,” you said, “but I—”

“You died that day,” your brother sobbed. “You died and I couldn’t do anything. So I… I made a deal. I wanted you back. They told me I had ten years, ten years until I went to Hell, and you would live. I didn’t know the demon would make you immortal. You can’t die.”

You watched him in confusion. “Okay, I don’t know what the hell you guys are talking about, but I am just done. I’m so done with the lies—”

“He’s not lying,” Sam told you. “About seven years ago, you had a ghost in your apartment. You stepped out of the salt line. You should have died, but you didn’t. The ghost had thrown her hand in your chest and you had barely flinched.” Nothing in his voice or expression hinted that he was lying to you. “I don’t really know what her motive was, making you immortal.”

You couldn’t believe you were just learning this. “So that’s what it was that day. You told me it was an intruder. Why don’t I remember..?”

“You didn’t want to. Sometimes people only remember what they want to.” It came back in a flash. You screaming at the figure in the shadows wasn’t Sam. It was a ghost. And Sam had saved you.

Dean put his hand on your brother’s shoulder. “Hellhounds are coming for him. He’s got an hour if we don’t stall the hounds.”

You didn’t have words.

/// You hated seeing your brother flinch when he looked you in the eyes. “Whatever you’re seeing right now, it’s not real,” Dean told him. “You’re hallucinating. But that also means the hellhounds are close. Sam, the goofer dust? Salt?” Sam passed a bag to him and Dean poured it around your brother. You thought back to the ghost back when you were a child. You remembered the salt blowing away from the door when the wind picked up. So you asked,

“Couldn’t you pour some glue down or something? So you can actually hold the salt to the floor? You can’t expect that to work if they’re just going to blow it away.“

Dean raised his eyebrows. “You know, I never thought of that. Sam, do we have some—”

That’s when everyone heard the barking and growling at the front door. Your brother shouted out, curling into himself and covering his ears. Tears were streaking down his face and he shook his head repeatedly, as if trying to deny his fate.

You began to cry too because the gravity of this was finally hitting you. Your brother was going to hell and you couldn’t do anything about it. Your brother stood, wide eyes on the door. “Get out. I’m who they want. Get out, so they don’t hurt you, too.”

“But—” you protested.

“He’s right. There’s not much we can do.” Dean proceeded to grab your arm and tug you out of the room.

You thrashed in his arm, trying to stay. “No! I’m not leaving him.”

Dean looked irritated. “I’ve been to Hell, okay sweetheart? And I’ve been ripped apart by hounds. Is that the last thing you want to remember him by? Seeing his flesh ripped from his chest? It will traumatize you. As I said, there is nothing we can do. So we’re leaving.”

“That is so cold, you know that? He’s terrified and those things are trying to get in here to kill him. I am not leaving.”

“No, what’s cold is staying and knowing that your family will watch you die a bloody death. This is already happening. He doesn’t want to traumatize you. He wants you to leave. He said so himself.”

“Can I—” you said as you fought back tears. “Can I have one last hug?”

Dean’s expression softened and he nodded.

You ran to your brother and embraced him.

“Stay with them. They’ll protect you. They’ll keep you safe.” He broke the hug so he could look into your eyes. “Keep them safe as well, though. They get into a lot of trouble real easy.” He managed to wink.

You let out a sad laugh. A hand, Dean’s hand, appeared in your peripheral vision.  You took it and let Dean lead you out of the room, ugly sobs leaving you as you said goodbye to your brother.

/// You made yourself a promise. You would make sure his last wish was done. You would keep the Winchesters safe.

So you hijacked a car.

The country roads of gravel and dirt led you to an old crossroad. In the middle lay fresh dirt, a square for you to dig. You held the little box closely to your chest, to your heart. This was for him.

“I want them to forget me,” you said. You heard nothing behind you but you knew they were there, listening. “And I want to take the pain of Sam and Dean Winchester.” Your hands were shaking. “All of it.”

Red eyes found yours. “Do you now?”

That was a rather large request.

Tags:

@vicmc624

@satans-0-spawn

@rosaren2498

[queerascat]

i found an old post about a poc ace and went on their blog and they know say they don't identify as ace because aces are bad, basically. and like, i'm literally crying. idk what to do, that just really struck me. someone who wrote about being queer, ace and a poc like me shitting on me and telling me my identity is inherently problematic when it's the reason i can't access mental health atm, which is something i need cause the 'discourse' & the violent abuse i faced on this website for (cont)

(suicide ideation, death threat and conversion tw) including death threats, caused me to fall back into suicidal ideation. and the only therapist available to me suggested conversion therapy (i live in a small central american country, there’s not much knowledge about these things- she thinks if i can be converted to straight, i will no longer suffer from my orientation). this is horrible tbh. i’m sorry to unload but as another poc ace i feel safe around you. i guess what i’m trying to say is that this ‘discourse’, which is just a bunch of people thinking they can gaslight and abuse aces or call the ‘bad’ or ‘cringy’ and don’t want to have any sort of intra community discussion but literally deny us our experiences and be abusive, is harming my mental health. friends i trusted turned out to be acephobic, send me literal death threats. in what kind of WORLD is that fucking ok? idk where im going with this, im sorry. do you know of any ways i can deal with this wave of ace and aro hatred that’s spread this website? i don’t know how to go about it. and now in the spanish speaking online lgbtq+ community, enbyphobes have copied it to exclude enbys for ‘being actually cis’ and are calling us ‘cisnb’ after regs in english calling aces and aros ‘cishet’ so that’s just fucking great :( that’s because the community is only now starting to realize enbys exist. and it’s also learning that about aspecs, so im starting to hear it in spanish too. i just can’t escape it.

i genuinely feel like i’m in no place to be giving any sort of advice on things of this nature– especially right now when i’m just managing to keep my own head above water for various reasons, but…

i’d first like to say that venting has been (and continues to be) a significant part of self-care / coping for me personally and i am beyond flattered that you feel safe enough to vent your feelings to me. no need to apologize, anon. i don’t know if i can be of any help to you, but i hope that the very act of venting in and of itself has been a step in the right direction for coping for you like it often is for me.

i also want to say that i’m very sorry to hear about all of the shit that you’ve been (and continue to be) put through. while i haven’t had your exact experiences, i can very much relate to feeling like you can’t escape “discourse” or otherwise harmful ideology as both it itself and the effects of it pervades other aspects and intersections of your life both on and outside of Tumblr. not to mention how it feels to finally find that rare, illusive something or someone that you share important but seemingly less common intersections with only to discover that that thing or person contributes to the very thing that’s, for lack of a better expression, fucking you up.

…ah, yes. like those old posts by a formerly self-identified ace and queer person of color who now not only advocates against asexuality but who does so in a way that blatantly shits on aces of color by pitching them against other QPOC, among other things. that’s some fucked up shit, ain’t it?

cough. anyway… my personal coping and self-care strategies.

my go-to strategies for coping and self-care certainly don’t work for everyone or in all situations, but with Tumblr and social media-related thing in general i often try to:

remove myself from the source of the distress.

even if only temporarily for a few hours, days, a week– whatever, i do what i can to mentally and / or physically check myself out of whatever it is that’s negatively affecting me and do my best to turn my attention to other things. i go to Starbucks, read a book, clean my apartment, focus on a personal project, catch up on shows, turn off my computer and my phone and finally make myself food– whatever. i focus on things that are actually tangible and perhaps offer some form of self-gratification even if it’s just in the form of tasting good because goddamnit, the time and cost required to get a caramel macchiato is (and quite frankly should be) far more worth it to me than the time and (mental) cost spent giving a damn about someone else’s bullshit. or so i tell myself.

if the source of the distress is outside of the internet, as might be the case with a therapist, i cut that person (or thing) out of my life even if it’s just by silently breaking off communication with them by not returning their calls or not going to their therapy sessions temporarily or indefinitely. as i said above, that person / those people / that thing is not worth the time or (mental) cost required of me by dealing with them.

limit or manage my exposure to the source of the distress when removing myself from it completely isn’t possible.

i feel like this often ends up being more taxing than simply removing myself all together, but blocking / unfollowing immediately upon coming across something or someone that can potentially or does set you off is important. blocking applies to more than just people, blogs or posts but also blacklisting tags, keywords etc using something like Xkit for Tumblr, the native block & mute features on Twitter, etc. if the distress comes in the form of asks, instant messages, etc then i disable those things at least temporarily, especially when blocking an IP fails to get the job done. i also avoid browsing through tags, which can be tough when you actively want to find something to help yourself feel better about yourself / your experiences / etc…

when the source of the distress isn’t online-based, i try to manage / limit my exposure by avoiding the person or thing in question when possible. again, actively avoiding someone or something requires effort on my part and can in and of itself be taxing, so it’s not ideal… but i do what i can.

venting.

while venting is by no means The Solution to anything and comes with its own set of risks / problems when done publicly, venting can be done in so many different ways. it’s a relatively easy form of instantly relief for me regardless of how small that relief may ultimately be. whether it be tweeting, journaling (online or pen & paper), venting on sites specifically made for that purpose, scribbling feelings onto a piece of paper and then immediately ripping that paper to shreds, typing heatedly into a text document and then closing it without saving– whatever, it helps for me to take even a moment out of my day to acknowledge how i feel and speak those feelings into existence beyond just the mess that is my own head at times. even if those feelings only exist in the world for seconds before i delete or physically destroy them because Anxiety And Shit, it still helps.

but perhaps most importantly is to:

focus on the fact that no matter what anyone else says or does, i am The Authority on who i am, how i feel, etc.

i know who i am, but i also know that who i am is not the problem even when others make me feel otherwise. regardless of how i may feel about the things that i face in regards to my sexuality, my gender, my race, etc, i try to keep in mind that those things that i face are a product of the society that i live in and the people who insist on interjecting their own personal bullshit into my life. imho, this is as true of Tumblr “discourse” as it is of life in general.

while it may not be possible to escape society or shitty people all together, there is a lot more to society and life in general than the bullshit that we find ourselves faced with at times. i try my best to look beyond or through “discourse” on Tumblr and see the communities of people both on an off Tumblr who, like me, are against such bullshit. while shitty therapists and shitty people in general may rebrand and rehash the same old tired, hurtful shit that’s been said to others for forever, i try to look past that and focus instead on the fact that a lot of people aren’t like that and have actually learned from the past and and are better for it. i try to focus on a future where i will have access to competent mental health resources and care even though i do not have that now…

…….i’m not sure why i ended up writing this short novel of a post that ultimately amounts to nothing, but yeah. anon, no matter how hard things get, please know that you’re never going at it alone. there are others out there struggling, coping, surviving in spite of the same or similar things, it’s just that if hardly anyone talks about it we end up feeling alone in it, unaware of others’ company…

….which is one reason why despite the potential risks, venting publicly even in the form of anonymous asks can be worth it sometimes and i very much welcome such asks on this blog.

all the best, anon.