#i told you what was my problem i told you what would make it better

[amxritt]

Stay

Rafe Cameron x f!reader

Summary: inspired by Stay by Gracie Abrams

Word Count: 4.4K

Warnings: angst (lots of it), brief mentions of addiction, uhh more probably idk

“You told me something when I left but I don’t remember. Maybe ‘cause all I could do then was stare at the floor”

The fight had been brewing for weeks. Rafe had been spiraling—late nights, glazed eyes, erratic moods. Y/n felt the weight of it all pressing down on her. She had known something was wrong, had seen the signs, but she had hoped he’d stop before things got this bad.

Now, they stood in his bedroom, the air thick with tension. Rafe paced back and forth like a caged animal, his voice rising with frustration. He shouted about how she didn’t understand, how this wasn’t her problem to fix. Y/n flinched at the sharpness in his tone, staying rooted to the edge of his bed, her gaze fixed firmly on the carpet beneath her feet.

She hated when he yelled. Wrapping her arms around herself, she tried to shield herself from the storm brewing inside him.

“You don’t get it, Y/n,” Rafe spat, his voice breaking. “You don’t get to tell me what to do. This is my life.”

“And I care about it!” she shot back, finally looking up. Her voice wavered, but her resolve didn’t. “I care about you, Rafe. But I can’t keep watching you destroy yourself.”

He froze mid-step, his back to her. For a moment, she thought he might actually listen. But then he shook his head, muttering something under his breath she couldn’t quite catch.

Y/n exhaled shakily, her nails digging into her palms. She wanted to scream at him, shake him until he understood how much this was breaking her. But all she could do was sit there, staring at the floor as the words she wanted to say died in her throat.

“I held myself ‘cause you wouldn’t, all wrapped in my sweatshirt Wonder if you even noticed that that one was yours”

The room was chilly despite the summer heat outside. The Camerons always kept the AC cranked up, and the breeze from the window only made it worse. Y/n pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms tightly around them. She was wearing a hoodie—one of Rafe’s, though she doubted he’d noticed.

He had given it to her back when they were sophomores, one night after a bonfire when she’d forgotten to bring a jacket. She’d meant to return it, but somehow it had become hers. Rafe never seemed to mind; he used to say it looked better on her anyway.

Now, as she sat there clutching the fabric like a lifeline, she wondered if he even remembered that it was his. Probably not. Not with how high he was right now. His eyes were glassy, his movements erratic. He didn’t seem to notice much of anything anymore.

“And maybe I should’ve, but I never told you, ‘I’m sorry.’ Know that I tried, but my words always got in the way.”

That night was the breaking point. Y/n had stood in his doorway, tears streaming down her face as she told him she couldn’t do this anymore.

“I can’t watch you hurt yourself, Rafe,” she had said, her voice cracking. “I love you too much to stand by and do nothing. But I can’t save you. You have to want to save yourself.”

He didn’t say anything. He just stood there, his jaw clenched, his hands curled into fists at his sides. She waited for him to stop her, to say something—anything—that would make her stay. But he didn’t.

As she turned to leave, he muttered something under his breath. She couldn’t hear it over the pounding in her ears.

Now, months later, she replayed that night over and over in her head. She wished she had stayed longer, had said something different. She wished she had told him she was sorry—for leaving, for not being enough to make him stop. But the words never came out right, no matter how many times she rehearsed them in her head.

“Could you hold me without any talking? We could try to go back where we started ”

Y/n’s day had been hell. Her parents had been on her case all morning, snapping at her for things that weren’t even her fault. By the time they told her to “go stay at a friend’s house” for the night, she felt like she was about to break.

Typically, when stuff like this happened, she just went to Rafe’s, but she hadn’t talked to him since that night a few months ago.

She ended up at the beach—their beach. It was a quiet, secluded spot they had discovered years ago. It had always been their escape, their sanctuary. Now it was just another place that reminded her of him.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, she pulled out her phone and stared at his name in her contacts. She shouldn’t call him. She knew that. But the weight of the day was too much to carry alone.

She had called him a few times since that night, and each time he picked up right away and stayed on the line, even though she would never actually talk to him. She just needed to hear his breathing. She needed to know he hadn’t overdosed, that he was okay.

Her fingers hovered over the screen for a moment before she pressed call.

He picked up on the first ring.

“Y/n?” His voice was rough, but there was a softness to it that made her chest ache.

She didn’t say anything for a moment, struggling to find the words. Finally, she whispered, “Can I come over?”

“I don’t even have to stay”

Rafe didn’t say anything when she showed up at his door, just stepped aside to let her in.

They didn’t talk as she changed into one of his t-shirts and climbed into bed beside him. He hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering over hers, before she turned to him and whispered, “Can you just hold me?”

He nodded, pulling her close. She felt the tension in his body slowly melt away as they lay there in the dark, their breathing syncing.

“Don’t worry, I won’t stay,” Y/n whispered, breaking the silence.

“It’s okay if you do,” Rafe whispered, but Y/n cut him off, “I won’t.”

For a little while, it felt like nothing had changed. Like they were still the kids who spent their summers on the beach, dreaming about a future that didn’t seem so far away.

But morning always came too soon.

When Rafe woke up, she was gone. Her side of the bed was cold, her clothes neatly folded at the foot of his bed.

“I don’t remember the last time I heard from your sister, Didn’t expect to, but I sorta thought that I would.”

Y/n had always been close to Wheezie, even when she and Rafe were arguing. They spent countless days together shopping, watching movies, having spa nights, and talking about everything and nothing. She was like the little sister Y/n always wanted.

Rafe would sometimes barge in, rolling his eyes at whatever ridiculous movie they were watching, but Y/n would catch the smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Those nights felt safe. Whole.

After Y/n left, she half-expected Wheezie to text her, to ask if she was okay or if they could still hang out like they used to. But weeks turned into months, and the silence stretched out between them.

Y/n thought about reaching out herself, but every time she opened her phone, the weight of what had happened with Rafe stopped her. What would she even say? That she missed her? That she wasn’t sure if she could face Rafe’s family without falling apart?

Sometimes, she’d scroll through old photos of them together, her heart aching for the easy sister-like bond they had. Wheezie’s smile stared back at her from the screen—bright, carefree, and untouched by the storm that had torn everything apart.

“Wish I could tell you by now that i felt more indifferent”

Y/n sat with her knees to her chest on the beach, their beach—the one where they had spent countless evenings watching the sun melt into the ocean. The waves stretched out before her, their rhythmic crash and retreat, a cruel reminder of the ebb and flow of her relationship with Rafe.

She always knew walking away would be hard, but she thought she’d feel more indifferent by now, that the ache in her chest would dull over time. Instead, every day felt like a battle against memories that refused to stay buried.

She closed her eyes and exhaled deeply, trying to ground herself. But the moment she did, images of Rafe flooded her mind: his lopsided grin when he teased her, the way his hand lingered on hers, the quiet moments when his walls came down, and he let her see the man he could be.

“Why can’t I let you go?” she whispered, her voice trembling. The wind carried her words out to the sea, where they dissolved like everything else she’d tried to hold onto.

A seagull called overhead, snapping her back to the present. She ran her fingers through the sand, letting the grains slip through them. She wanted to feel indifferent. She needed to feel indifferent. But how do you stop caring about someone who was your whole world? She would give anything to have him back, but not until he quit the drugs.

“Catch myself thinking about you more than I should”

Y/n stood in line at the coffee shop, waiting for her order, when a man with Rafe’s build walked through the door. Her breath caught, her heart skipping a beat before logic kicked in. It wasn’t him.

But for those few seconds, her mind betrayed her, painting a picture of what it would be like if it were him. Would he smile at her? Would his eyes light up the way they used to when they saw her? Or would he look past her, as if the memories they shared were as distant to him as they were vivid to her?

Even in moments like this, she caught herself thinking about him. She wondered what he was doing now, if he was happy, if he ever thought about her too. It had been months since they’d spoken, and yet he was still there, lingering in the corners of her mind.

“And maybe I should’ve but I never told you I miss you I almost said it but don’t know if you feel the same.”

The fluorescent lights of the grocery store buzzed as Y/n walked down the produce aisle, her list in hand. She was focused on selecting the ripest lemons, reaching on her tiptoes to get them off the top shelf, when a familiar hand reached past hers and plucked one off the shelf.

She looked up, and her heart stopped. It was Rafe.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. His presence was like a punch to the gut—familiar and painful all at once. He looked healthier, steadier, but his eyes still held that same quiet sadness she knew too well.

“Hey,” he said softly.

Y/n swallowed hard, her mind racing. She wanted to say something, to bridge the gap between them. I miss you, she thought. The words sat on the tip of her tongue, heavy and unspoken.

Instead, she managed a weak smile. “Hey.”

They stood there, awkward and unsure. She wanted to ask how he’d been, if he was happy, if he ever thought about her. But the fear of what his answers might be kept her silent.

As he walked away, her heart ached with all the things she wished she had said. He was respecting the boundaries she had set, and she was grateful for that, but she couldn’t stop thinking about what she could’ve said. Maybe I should’ve told him. Maybe it would’ve changed something. Or maybe it wouldn’t have mattered at all.

“Could you hold me without any talking? We could try to go back where we started I don't even have to stay”

Y/n sat cross-legged on her bed, absently scrolling through her phone when it buzzed. Rafe’s name lit up the screen.

She wasn’t expecting it, but her thumb hovered for only a moment before she answered. “Rafe?” she said softly.

The line was silent except for the sound of his uneven breathing. Her heart sank. “Rafe, are you okay?” she asked, her voice tight with worry.

Finally, he spoke, his voice strained and shaky. “I…I need your help.”

Y/n sat up straight, her pulse quickening. “Where are you?”

A pause followed before he replied, “I’m at Topper’s.” His words were slurred, and she could tell he’d been drinking. “Listen, Y/n/n, you… you don’t have to do this.”

“Rafe, it’s fine. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

She didn’t hesitate. Throwing on her shoes and grabbing her keys, she was out the door.

When she arrived, Rafe sat slouched on the front porch, his head in his hands. As she pulled up, he stood slowly and made his way to the car. Sliding into the passenger seat, he looked at her with tired, bloodshot eyes.

“Thank you… for coming,” he muttered.

“Of course,” Y/n said softly. “You called.”

Her voice was calm, steady—exactly what he needed. Rafe didn’t respond, but the corner of his mouth twitched, almost a smile.

The drive back to Tannyhill was silent. When they arrived, Rafe hesitated before opening the car door.

“Can you… come in?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/n nodded. “Yeah, I can.”

Inside, as he opened his bedroom door, she noticed his hands—bruised, scratched, and swollen knuckles.

“Rafe!” she gasped, reaching for his hand. Her heart raced as they touched. She hadn’t felt his touch in so long. “What happened?”

He pulled his hand back, avoiding her gaze. “It’s nothing. Just… got into a little disagreement,” he mumbled, dropping his keys on the dresser.

“Rafe…” she began, her tone firm, but she stopped when she saw the exhaustion in his eyes. “Here, let me clean it up.”

In the bathroom, she sat him down on the closed toilet seat and retrieved the first aid kit. Quietly, she began tending to his cuts.

He didn’t flinch when she dabbed rubbing alcohol on the wounds, but she noticed the way his jaw tightened. Neither of them spoke as she worked, her touch gentle and precise.

When she finished, she stood and said, “Go get in bed. I’ll clean this up and be right there.”

By the time she returned to his room, he was sitting on the edge of the bed, shoulders slouched. He glanced at her as she walked in, shifting to make space for her beside him.

Y/n slid into bed, and they lay there in the dark, the faint hum of the air conditioning the only sound. Rafe wrapped his arms around her, holding her like she was his anchor to the world. She held him just as tightly, resting her head against his chest.

No words were spoken. None were needed.

“If I woke up with you in the morning I’d forget all the ways that we’re broken I don’t care if you’ve changed, I don’t even have to stay”

Morning light filtered through the blinds, painting golden streaks across the room. Y/n woke slowly, her senses adjusting to the warmth of Rafe’s arms wrapped around her. For a moment, she forgot the heartbreak, the arguments, and the nights spent crying herself to sleep.

She stayed still, savoring the rare peace. His breathing was steady, his chest rising and falling against her back. It felt like old times, like they were still those carefree kids.

Quietly, she slipped out of bed and made her way to the kitchen. She brewed coffee, cooked eggs, and relished the grounding normalcy of it all.

When she returned with a tray of food and Advil, Rafe was awake, propped up on one elbow, watching her with an expression she couldn’t quite read.

“I thought you’d left,” he said, his voice tinged with vulnerability.

She set the tray down and sat beside him. “I just wanted to make sure you had food and Advil,” she said softly.

“Thank you.” He reached out and took her hand, his touch hesitant. “Look, Y/n, I-I know you said you wouldn’t…” His voice faltered, as if the words were too heavy. “Until I… Until I stopped. But do you ever think we could—”

“Don’t,” she cut him off gently, her voice steady. It hurt to see him like this, a shadow of the confident man she remembered. “Rafe… I meant what I said. But that doesn’t mean I won’t be here for you. Even if you haven’t gotten better yet… I’ll still be here when you need me.”

Her voice trailed off, and he nodded, understanding despite the hurt. For now, they had this moment—fleeting, imperfect, but theirs.

She didn’t stay much longer, not wanting to overstep. As she walked to the door, Rafe stopped her. “Will you ever stop leaving?”

Turning to face him, she gave a sad, genuine smile. “I’ll stop leaving when you get better, Rafe. I promise.”

With that, she walked out of the Cameron house. Leaving him was never easy, but she knew it was the only way for him to heal.

Authors note: Long story for my first post, I hope you like it! I take requests but I'm not sure how to set that up yet so messages, comments, or whatever works if you want to send one in. I am tempted to make a part 2 to this, so if anyone is interested lmk!

[eternal-love]

I’m having a really bad day today, gimmie some Benny smut I know you’ve got something in that brain of yours 🤍

LEAVE

Pairing: Benny Cross x reader

Summary: You try to leave Benny, but he has other plans.

Warning: smut, toxic relationship, Benny being a pathetic ass, reader has a child, Benny gets physically violent.

Note: Couldn’t deny Miss Cross herself y’know? 😏I know I’m not as good writing smut but I do my best for you. Hope you get better and this makes you feel better! 🫶💗

Also, this is heavily inspired by a combo @aust-een and I had about how Jeff held back a lot from what the real Benny could have been. I just know Benny wasn’t this quiet nonchalant thing. He was jealous, possessive and violent.

Your life was monotonous, you woke up, got ready, had breakfast, went to your job, put your with annoying customers, came back home, slept. Repeat. That was up until you met Benny.

Your life did a 180, in your routine and emotionally too. Benny was an interesting character, he was a mistery to a lot of people. And to you too, your friend warned you to not even look in his direction, he was always cruising for a bruising. Him and his bike were in for any sort of trouble. That’s what drew you to him.

Your last boyfriend was too plain, too vanilla. You often sought out a way to create any sort of tension. With Benny, that wasn’t necessary. He was the problem himself. With you having to bail him out of jail more times that you liked to admit it. A part of you knew this wasn’t healthy. Specially not for your son, he saw everything.

Benny lived in your house, so, obviously you were the head of the house, you worked and brought in the money. But Benny didn’t care, he flouted in and out the house as he pleased. Anxiety ruled over you, not knowing if he would come back or not. You could stay awake all night just waiting for him.

At some point, you knew it had to be over, it wasn’t healthy anymore and you spent days more stressed than happy. So you waited for him to come back. You had put your son to bed upstairs. Your leg bouncing as you drank a beer, you heard the front door open and you saw Benny come in, black boots stomping on the wooden floor.

“What are you doin’ awake still?” Benny spoke up as he saw you in the couch, his eyes a bit tired as well as his voice.

“Waitin’ for you.” You said, putting out the cigarette on the ashtray.

“You ain’t gotta do that.” Benny scoffed, he took his pack of Marlboro Reds out his pocket and lit up just one, he walked towards the kitchen and grabbed a beer. He looked around, no food. “No food tonight, I see. That’s how you care for your man?”

“It’s too late at night, only cooked for Robbie and I.” You said, you stared at him as he walked around. He just smirked in disbelief at what you said.

“What’s with the face?” He asked you as he came back to the living room, taking another hit from the cigarette.

“I want to talk to you about something.” You said, taking in a deep breath.

“I don’t want to hear it.” Benny rolled his eyes.

He had been off and weird lately, you had believed you were crazy but no, you started to accept that he was in fact different.

“I can’t live like this no more, Benny.” You confessed as you stood up, your hands on your hips. “This ain’t right. Not for me or my Robbie. I want you to leave.”

You said, it took everything in you to get the words out of you. Because you didn’t know how he would react.

Benny pressed his lips together as he took a deep drag from the cigarette, shaking his head. “That ain’t happening. I ain’t leavin’.”

Benny was hard headed and he did not follow nobody. If he was told to do something, he did the opposite, but you were tired. Of everything.

“It’s not a question, Benny. I can’t keep carrying on like this. It’s eating me alive.” You said, trying to appear firm as you stood up.

“You can’t keep carrying on like this?” He repeated your words, you could easily tell he was mocking you. “What else did you think this would be?”

You stared at Benny in disbelief, a part of you thought you could have changed him. Make him more responsible, more emotionally present, more anything, but no. He was still the same troublemaker you met. It hurt you to kick him out but there wasn’t any other choice.

“I just want you to leave. Get your things and leave.” You said, the words getting stuck in your throat.

“So you can bring in another man? Who you gonna bring next? Cal or that son of a bitch with the camera?” Benny accused you, he was very jealous and possessive. He didn’t like bringing you to meeting too much, specially not when Danny or Cal talked to you. There was a reason he didn’t let you meet up with Danny to do his interviews.

“What are you even talking about, Benny? This is about us. You and I!” You snapped, he always tried to blame others for everything, because in his own words ‘he never asked anyone for anything’.

“Don’t even yell at me. Watch it.” He said, his voice monotone.

“I’m tired of you leaving without saying anything. And expecting me to take you back. I can’t keep waitin’ on ya. I just can’t. So please, leave. Because I can’t handle you being a son of a bitch anymore.”

Oh, that set him on fire. You, calling him a son of a bitch. He didn’t like that. There was a silence in which he clenched his jaw, put out the cigarette into the decorative table by his side.

“Right?” Benny said calmly before he snapped. And he threw the decorative table to the floor, making the flower vase break down to little pieces.

You flinched, Benny had his violent outburst, you hadn’t quite gotten used to them yet. Throwing beer bottles or anything on his reach. His nonchalant demeanor was something that was only a façade to either give you the cold shoulder or appear more brave with the club.

As soon as he walked towards you, you backed off, only for Benny to grab you by the neck.

“Who do you think you are?” Benny growled, his voice always held that nonchalant tone to it. Which you hated. You never knew if he did this because he cared and wanted to stay or just for the fun of it. “I ain’t asking anything from you, so you can’t come here askin’ anything from me.”

Benny was so close to your face, his hand wasn’t really gripping your neck tightly but he was holding you hard enough to scare you.

“I ain’t gonna let you go around like one of them loose women. You’re mine. Mine. You get it?” Benny whispered in your ear.

But you wanted this to end. For your son.

“I ain’t doing this because I don’t love you. I do it for my son.”

“I really don’t give a shit about your son. Never did and never will, doll.” Benny scoffed. “I should listen to what you’ve told me, give you a baby so you can finally shut up. So that I’ll never be able to fully leave you.”

Benny placed his knee in between your legs, pressing it against your core. Making you shiver, most of the time, Benny having you by the neck turned you on immediately, and it was working right now.

“You don’t want me to leave, do you?” Benny purred in your ear. “No words now? Did the cat get your tongue?”

Benny leaned in and kissed your lips, the friction of his knee with your core sent shivers across your body. You wanted to rip off his clothes, and so he did. He ripped open your shirt, those cheap buttons didn’t stand a chance.

“How many times have I told you I hate these clothes? Mhm?” Benny whispered. It was a two piece set, the sleeveless button shirt and the matching shorts. It was a look that was in right now, you had wanted to fit in. Albeit, Benny didn’t enjoy it. “You want everyone to look, don’t ya? Everyone. There’s a reason why I got you that jacket.”

Benny pulled you to the couch, throwing you into it. The jacket was the one that had ‘Property of Benny’ in the back, made you wear it every time there was a meeting.

Benny got rid of his colors, his jacket and vest on the floor as well as his worn out white tshirt, he got on top of you. His lips finding their way to yours, you tasted the whisky on his lips, made you hum. You were enjoying how aggressive he got at times.

His hand traveled from your hair to your breast, squeezing it through your bra, you moaned on his lips, your back trying to arch but his body blocked you from doing so. Then his hand traveled all the way to inside your shorts, his touch feather-like as he caressed you over your underwear, your toes curled up at the feeling, you shivered once again.

“My doll is so desperate. I thought she wanted me to leave.” He kept rubbing you over your underwear. You let out breathy moans.

You wanted to deny it. But you couldn’t even speak properly. He wasn’t even doing anything extreme and you were already losing it.

He worked with his hands, he was so masculine. The smell of Marlboro Red filled your nostrils. It made you so— ugh. You couldn’t get enough of it, or him. Even if part of you hated it, there was something about him that you couldn’t reject.

“I’m gonna make sure— everyone in the fuckin’ street knows who you belong to. Alright?” Benny grunted as he undid his pants, he was as hard as he ever was when he’s with you.

And to be fair, your ex-in laws lived next door. You were in for a ride as soon as he pulled down your shorts and underwear. His boxers came down as well.

“Don’t be quiet.” Benny said, as he filled you up with his cock in one swift thrust.

“Motherfucker!” You moaned out loudly, loud enough to blush afterwards. You saw his smirk.

He liked how he got to you. How much you were willing to put up from him. His thrusts were anything but gentle, the sound of skin slapping, moaning and grunting filled the living room.

“You like it? Hmm?” Benny asked as he relentlessly fucked you in the couch, but this want his favorite position, not at all. He found it boring to say the least.

Your eyes were rolling back, your mouth open and filthy noises escaped your lips, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“Move.” He said as he pulled out of you, you whimpered when you stopped feeling his cock. Damn, that’s how much you needed him.

Eventually he manhandled you, he threw you around until you were in all fours. He was behind you and without any sort of mercy, he pounded into you from behind, his cock filling you up, giving you pleasure like no other.

“Benny… p-please” You whined, it was too much, he was too much. All of him.

“What? I’m sorry, can’t hear you.” Benny said, as his hand reached to grab your throat, squeezing the air you had.

It was the adrenaline of having no air combined with the pleasure of it. It gave you too much ecstasy. You didn’t even remember the last time he fucked you like this.

“I’ll leave whenever I want.” Benny whispered in your ear as he kept choking you, you tried to grasp on whatever air was possible. But it was in vain, and after a while, he withdrew his hand from your throat and slowly made its way down to your clit.

That was your breaking point and you couldn’t hold back your moans anymore. Every moan that came out of you came from the deepest of your soul.

His hand worked wonders on your clit, making you feel overstimulated, waiting for that usual feeling for being close to the edge.

“Keep… g-going” you managed to mutter through the moans. As his cock kept filling you up, you knew no guy could ever compare to him.

Not even one. And you didn’t even dare to think of it. Afraid that he could read your mind and get mad.

“We’re gonna have a baby. So you won’t ever kick me out again. So that your brat of a son— knows his place.” Benny kept going even faster and harder, it seemed like he was on the edge. “And so that photographer son of a bitch knows that you’re taken.”

“Benny!” You yelled as Benny hit that sweet spot of yours, pleasure erupted as you finished, your muscles relaxing immediately.

He kept fucking you, for at least a minute more before you heard his voice falter, his breath ragged. “Oh, f-fuck…”

Benny filled you up, made sure to not waste a single drop of his cum. After all, he wanted you heavy with his baby in a few months. He couldn’t wait to see your son’s face. That little brat. Knowing his mommy wouldn’t get rid of him.

“So good for me…” Benny leaned over you, whispering in your ear. “If you tell me to do anything ever again, I’ll do the opposite. Okay?”

[nottivagos]

Mechanic Daniel is haunting my thoughtsssss👨🏻‍🔧

Just imagine readers car is making a few funny noises coming into the shop one day and instead of asking the guys or Daniel she thinks hey I can do this myself and show everyone I’m not just a pretty face, I’ve watched Daniel enough to know what’s going on right? Wrong. After the shop is closed reader somehow makes her car even worse not noticing mechanic Danny has come back for something and is less than happy, I neeeeed to know how you think he’d react😭🙏and what he’d do to reader 😉

It's that time again! Welcome to Notti's "Not So Innocent" Notebook where I write some filth to make your Tuesday a little bit better <3 || 18+ mdni pls and ty

an: GUYS. ANOTHER NONNIE WANTS ME DEAD. this is not a drill. anywho, LOVED THIS IDEA. ugh angry dilfs.. 😵‍💫.. i kinda switched it up a little with reader going to ask danny first (i hope u dont mind! i'd just had this idea that she was so ditzy she literally went to a con man for a car.) but the plot after that is the same <3

taglist: @orangeblossomsintheair

“I told you to not buy a shit car off of ‘im,” Danny grumbled, rubbing his temples with annoyance. “But fine,” he sighed, rubbing his forehead with the back of his hand, “I’ll fix your car,” he groaned, yet his voice held some gentleness to it. “Pass ‘em over, pet,” he flashed his rough, oil-stained palm out towards you, demanding you give your car keys over.

“Really?” your eyes brightened, that glint of happiness ever so more noticeable. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” you exclaimed your appreciation, passing over your car keys into his hand. He responded to your over-bubbly response with a disinterested grunt, nodding as he pocketed your keys, pulling out a cigarette before turning on his heel to take his well deserved smoke break after speaking to you.

However, Danny’s ‘I’ll fix your car’ meant that you were getting it back in his own time. Your boss never understood the concept of a timeframe, or in this instance, a deadline. You needed your car badly, and quick too. You couldn’t help but sympathise with him slightly, he was drowned in work, but that wasn’t an excuse in this instance. 

It didn’t help that he wasn’t impressed by who you’d bought your car off. Maybe he was a little biassed, a tinge of jealousy behind that motive, but that could be suppressed by the mechanic. He’d advised you not to buy something from a rival car dealership (with a notorious legacy of selling “useless pieces of crap that deserved to be in a scrapyard”, in his words) in the local area, but the offers he was providing to you were amazing! Too bad that the car had a hundred problems you couldn’t fix. Too bad that you were too much of a pretty face whilst lacking the brains to see a con artist in his element.

Maybe you were being too impatient. Daniel was a busy man, but surely he’d make some time for you? After all, you were the one sucking him off during after-work hours, surely he’d make you the exception. Unfortunately, your hopes were far from reality. Danny was living in a ‘laid-back’ mindset ever since his divorce, doing tasks when he wanted to do them. Not when they needed to be done by. His customers knew not to complain, or they’d face the wrath of an aggressive mechanic nearly throwing a wrench at their head for rushing him.

‘Death by wrench’ was something you definitely didn’t want your ultimate demise to be known as, so you sat silently, despite the irritating urge to go and ask Danny if he’d even thought of starting on your car playing in the back of your mind. You couldn’t help but wonder if it would be better if you tried to mend your car yourself. Not only would it take the stress of Danny and the guys, but also you could prove to them that you were not just the ‘pretty face in reception that only makes a good fuck for Dan’.

So guess what you stupidly decided to do, a rush of confidence influencing your brash decision. Fix your car! You waited (rather impatiently) for Danny and the guys to go on their lunch and a shared smoke break, knowing they’d take 2 hours instead of the actual designated 30 minutes, to try and mend your poor machine. It had only been making a few weird noises… Easy fix. Right?

Wrong! Despite ogling over Danny whilst he fixed cars, believing all of that daydreaming about him whilst watching would come to good use, you soon discovered that you were not a car mechanic. And instead… useless. Well, useless wasn’t the nicest term to use. If you had maybe asked one of the guys or Danny himself for some advice, the car’s ‘wheezing and sputtering’ problem would’ve been an easy fix. But instead, giving you a wrench and a power to ‘fix’ your car ultimately made its problem worse.

The minutes turned into hours, and somehow it was already the end of the working day. The garage was silent, apart from your annoyed huffs and puffs as you continued to try and mend what you’d already broken even more.

Pouting, you wiped your sweaty forehead, not acknowledging the unamused grunts from behind you. Whilst you’d been sucked into your own world of mending your car, Danny had been watching you, agitated of course, silently whilst he rested against the countertop.

“What a shit job you've done.” A husky, unamused voice bellowed from behind you. “For a girl who ogles over me all day whilst I work, I’d suspect you could do better than.. whatever this is.”

Eyes widened as your breathing hitched. Fuck, he did not sound happy, or amused at what you’d done. Turning on your heel, you faced him with a nervous smile. “B-Boss!” you exclaimed as a blurt, “I was just trying to fix it on my own!”

“Thought I’d told you to wait,” he said, giving you a knowing look. He was resting against the worktop, burly arms crossed against his broad chest. “And instead of waitin’ like a good girl, your car is now even more fucked.”

“B-but—!”

“But nothing,” he grunted with distaste, pushing himself off of the counter towards you. In a swift movement, he had your front pushed onto the bonnet of the car, ass high up in the sky as you let out a small yelp.

“What am I going to do with you, huh?” he sighed, as if he was scolding a child, large palms gripping your hips as you rested your chest against the bonnet of the car. “Always so impatient,” he murmured, fingertips trailing down to your clothed ass which was becoming more visible as your dress rode up your curves, “always so needy. Fuck, you really know how to piss me off, petal.”

Large hands came to brush your skirt up your body, revealing your clothed bottom to Danny more clearly. He hummed with satisfaction as calloused fingers hooked underneath your panties, the cool air hitting your slick pussy almost immediately as he ripped them down your legs.

“Can’t even have a smoke without you goin’ against what I’ve told you to do,” he added, swatting your ass with force. The slap made you yelp, tears foolishly forming in your eyes as your hips jerked forward upon impact.

“That—” another whack to your throbbing flesh, “—was for being impatient—,” he grunted upon another harsh impact, his hand now leaving a red mark against your asscheek, sobs now escaping your lips. “And this—” the clap echoed around the quiet workshop as you whined, “—is for making an easy fix even worse for me to do.”

A foolish whimper followed. A strangled sob as you felt your pussy become slightly wetter. Daniel brought his face down to your ear, his ragged breaths rattling your eardrums ever so slightly.

“Tell me you’re sorry and I’ll stop,” he whispered huskily into your ear, hot breath burning the shell of your ear as you bit your bottom lip, mascara smudged by the tears you’d shed. His hand ghosted over your throbbing curves, the distance teasing you as your body was tricked into thinking he would smack it again.

“I-I’m sorry, Danny!” you blurted loudly, tears streaming down your rosy cheeks like a little girl. “I won’t try and fix a car on my own again, I-I- promise!” you squeaked helplessly.

“Good girl,” Danny hummed, moving away from you to the workbench to pick up his toolbox whilst you rearranged your clothes. 

When you’d finished, he looked at you with a soft smile, despite the irritation that he’d have to stay even later to fix your problems. His doe brown eyes looked sweeter than they usually did, as he leaned in for a little kiss. The kiss was ever so soft, as if it was a ‘sorry’ for spanking you so hard, but he let his lips linger on your burning cheek for a while after.

“You should probably get off,” he said, his voice gentle as he looked at you. “It’s late, I’d hate to keep you here any longer,” Danny added with a soft glance, before rummaging through the box for the tools he needed.

You were about to head to the exit before Danny’s head sprung back around, as he reached out for your arm.

“Oh, and one other thing,” he called out, wrapping your hand around your wrist for a moment. “Next time you want me to do somethin’, just ask. Hell, nag me until I don't want you to nag me anymore," he chuckled with a shake of his head, “I’m more than willing to do it for you if you need it done as soon as possible, princess.”

like divorced mechanic!danny? consider sending me an ask so you can be included in my notebook! - notti <3

[thenaughtynorth]

Breaking Judgment

After being betrayed by The Judgment Day, the reader destroys their locker room. Damian Priest, also betrayed by the faction, offers support and admits he cares for her. He stays the night to protect her, and the tension between them hints at something more brewing beneath the surface.

Damian Priest x female reader

Warnings: Kayfabe lmao

Word count: Roughly 2,700 and it’s actually proofread to the best of my ability

I love me some Damian Priest

———

The moment you slammed Finn’s leather jacket to the floor and stomped on it, the rage consuming you felt like a tidal wave. The Judgment Day had always been your family—or at least, that’s what they told you. Finn had been the leader, Liv the schemer, Raquel the enforcer, JD and Carlito two dumb stooges, and Dominik…well, Dom was just along for the ride. Together, they had made you believe you belonged. That you were one of them.

Until tonight.

“You’re just not good enough to run with us anymore,” Liv had sneered, her lips curling into a smirk that made your stomach churn. Raquel stood beside her, arms crossed, saying nothing. Finn didn’t even look at you as he passed judgment like it was beneath him to care. Dominik had just muttered an apology under his breath and avoided your eyes.

That was the moment something inside you snapped.

So here you were, standing in the middle of their trashed locker room, your breath heaving and your fists trembling. Clothes and gear were strewn everywhere. Finn’s jacket was ruined, Raquel’s duffel had been emptied out and dumped, and Liv’s makeup bag was shattered in the corner. But the pièce de résistance was Dom’s PS5, which now lay in pieces at your feet. The satisfying crack it made when you smashed it against the floor was the only thing that had brought you even a shred of satisfaction tonight.

But it still wasn’t enough.

“Feel better now?”

The deep voice behind you made you spin around, your heart lurching. Damian Priest stood in the doorway, his large frame blocking the exit. His dark eyes were fixed on the mess around you before settling on your face.

“What do you want, Damian?” you spat, your voice sharper than you intended.

He stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. “I saw what happened,” he said simply, his tone calm but firm.

“So what?” you shot back, crossing your arms over your chest. “Come to rub it in? Tell me you told me so? Because I don’t need it right now.”

Damian’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t rise to the bait. “Trust me, I’m not here to gloat. But you made a scene out there, and it’s only a matter of time before Finn and the others come looking for you. You’re lucky I found you first.”

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “Lucky? Yeah, sure. Real lucky. My so-called family just threw me to the curb, and now I’ve got nothing.”

“You think you had something with them?” Damian’s voice was sharper now, cutting through your self-pity like a blade. “They used you. The same way they used me. You were just too blind to see it.”

You flinched at his words, but deep down, you knew he was right. You’d been there when Damian was cast out, just like you were tonight. You’d stood by and done nothing, believing Finn’s lies that Damian had been the problem.

“That’s different,” you muttered, looking away.

“Is it?” Damian challenged, stepping closer. “Because it looks pretty damn familiar to me.”

You swallowed hard, your throat tightening as the weight of your mistakes pressed down on you. “I didn’t think they’d… I didn’t think it would end like this.”

“That’s because you let them get in your head,” Damian said bluntly. “They’re good at that. They make you think you’re part of something bigger, like they actually care about you. But the second you stop being useful to them? They throw you out like garbage.”

His words hit harder than you expected, and you felt your defenses crumbling. “So what now?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “What am I supposed to do, Damian? Because I don’t have a clue.”

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. For a moment, he looked like he was debating whether or not to answer. Then he stepped closer, his voice lowering.

“You do what I did,” he said. “You fight back. You don’t let them win. And you sure as hell don’t let them see you break.”

“And I’m supposed to just… do that on my own?” you asked, bitterness creeping into your tone.

Damian hesitated, his gaze softening slightly. “No,” he said quietly. “You’re not doing this on your own. You’ve got me.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his words. “Why would you help me?”

“Because I know what it feels like,” he admitted. “I know what it’s like to think you’ve found people who care about you, only to find out it was all a lie. And…” He trailed off, his eyes locking with yours. “Because I’ve always liked you. Even when you stabbed me in the back, I couldn’t bring myself to hate you.”

The confession made your breath catch, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say. You’d spent so long convincing yourself that Damian was the enemy, that you hadn’t stopped to consider how he might have felt.

“Damian…” you started, but he held up a hand to stop you.

“Don’t,” he said, his tone firm but not unkind. “You don’t have to say anything. Just know that I’m here. And if you want to take them down? I’m with you.”

You nodded slowly, your chest tightening with a mixture of guilt and gratitude. “Okay,” you said quietly. “Let’s do it.”

Damian nodded, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Good. But first, we’re getting out of here before Finn finds this mess.” He glanced around the room, letting out a low whistle. “Nice touch with the PS5, by the way.”

You couldn’t help the faint smirk that crossed your lips. “He had it coming.”

“Yeah, he did,” Damian said, opening the door and motioning for you to follow. “Come on. Let’s get you out of here.”

As you walked out of the destroyed locker room, a part of you felt lighter—like, for the first time in weeks, you weren’t completely alone.

The parking lot was eerily quiet as Damian’s car sped down the road, the hum of the engine filling the heavy silence between you. The adrenaline from trashing The Judgment Day’s locker room had long since worn off, leaving behind a cold ache in your chest. Damian sat in the driver’s seat, his expression unreadable as his hands gripped the wheel.

“You really went all in back there,” he said suddenly, his tone neutral but edged with something you couldn’t quite place.

“They deserved it,” you muttered, staring out the window.

“Yeah,” Damian agreed, though his voice was flat. “But that doesn’t mean it was smart.”

You turned to glare at him, anger bubbling up again. “I didn’t ask for your opinion.”

“No, you didn’t,” he said calmly, his eyes fixed on the road. “But I’m giving it anyway. You think smashing their stuff is going to fix anything? You think Finn’s just going to shrug and let it go?”

You clenched your jaw, guilt and frustration twisting in your stomach. “I don’t care what Finn thinks,” you snapped.

Damian let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, you do. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be this worked up about it.”

His words hit too close to home, and you turned back to the window, refusing to let him see the tears threatening to spill over.

“Look,” Damian said after a long moment, his tone softening just enough to cut through your defenses. “I get it. They screwed you over. I know what that feels like. But if you’re going to survive this, you need to start thinking with your head instead of your emotions.”

The truth in his words stung, but you couldn’t deny it. “I didn’t know what else to do,” you admitted quietly, your voice barely audible over the hum of the car.

“That much was obvious,” he muttered, his tone still sharp but lacking malice.

Silence settled between you again, heavy and oppressive. You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt, your mind racing with everything that had happened tonight. Finally, you forced yourself to speak.

“Why are you really helping me, Damian?” you asked, your voice trembling. “After everything I did to you—why do you even care?”

Damian sighed, his grip on the wheel tightening. “I told you. I know what it’s like to be where you are right now. And maybe I should walk away. Maybe I should let you deal with this on your own.” He glanced at you briefly, his dark eyes softening. “But I can’t. You know why.”

You sat there in silence, the weight of his words from earlier settling over you as the car pulled into the hotel parking lot. Did he actually like me?

The elevator ride to your room was tense and quiet. You could feel Damian’s presence beside you, solid and reassuring despite the tension in the air. When you reached your door, you hesitated, your hand hovering over the key card reader.

“Something wrong?” Damian asked, his voice breaking the silence.

You swallowed hard, your chest tightening with fear. “What if they come after me?” you asked, your voice trembling. “What if this isn’t over?”

“It’s not over,” Damian said bluntly. “But that doesn’t mean you have to let them win. You’re not with them anymore. You don’t owe them anything.”

“I know,” you said quietly, though the fear in your chest didn’t subside.

Damian sighed, his voice softening slightly. “You’ll be fine,” he said. “But if it makes you feel better, I’ll stay.”

Your head snapped up to look at him, surprise flickering across your face. “You’d do that?”

He shrugged, his expression neutral. “Yeah. Just for tonight. Don’t get used to it.”

You nodded quickly, swiping the key card and pushing the door open. “Thank you,” you said quietly, stepping inside.

The room was small and unremarkable, but it felt like a safe haven after the chaos of the night. You sat on the edge of the bed, your hands fidgeting in your lap as Damian leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his eyes fixed on you like he was still analyzing every move you made.

“You need to get some rest,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“And what about you?” you asked, glancing at him.

“I’ll keep watch,” he said simply, “make sure they don’t do some stupid shit.”

You frowned, guilt gnawing at you. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I do,” he said firmly. “Because I’m not letting Finn and the others blindside you. Not on my watch.”

His words sent a strange warmth through your chest, but you pushed the feeling aside. “You could sit on the bed, you know,” you said reluctantly. “It’s big enough.”

Damian raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “You sure about that?”

You rolled your eyes, though your cheeks burned. “I’m not going to kick you out if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I’m more worried about whether or not you can keep your hands to yourself,” he chuckled, leaving you speechless. Had the circumstances been any different, he might’ve had a good point.

He kicked off his sneakers and moved to sit on the bed, making you super aware of his ginormous figure next to you. The warmth was radiating off of him, and it was as if the darkness had heightened your other senses, because my god did he smell incredible.

The silence was heavy, but it carried a different kind of tension now. You shifted, lying back on your side of the bed, staring up at the ceiling. You couldn’t stop your mind from racing—about Finn, Liv, Raquel, Dominik, and most of all, Damian.

“I still don’t get why you’re doing this,” you said quietly, glancing over at him. “Why you care so much.”

Damian turned his head to look at you, his dark eyes unreadable. “I told you. I really care about you.” He leaned back, resting on one elbow as his voice dipped lower. “You’re not just some teammate to me. You never were. I thought maybe the feelings had gone away, but mierda, I still fucking adore you.”

Your breath caught at the intensity in his gaze. “Damian…”

“I’m not looking for apologies or promises,” he interrupted, his voice calm but firm. “I’m just telling you the truth. Whether you believe it or not is up to you.”

The room suddenly felt warmer, the air charged with an unspoken tension. You weren’t sure what to say, your emotions tangled in a mess of guilt, fear, and something far more dangerous.

“You should get some sleep,” Damian said, his tone softer now but no less commanding. “You’ve had a long night.”

You nodded, lying back fully against the pillows. But as you closed your eyes, you felt the mattress shift slightly, Damian’s presence grounding you in a way that made your heart race.

“Damian?” you murmured, your voice hesitant.

“Yeah?”

You hesitated, your throat dry. “Thank you. For… everything.”

He didn’t respond right away, but then you felt him shift closer—just barely—and his voice dropped to a near-whisper.

“Don’t make me regret it, baby” he said, his tone carrying an edge that sent a shiver down your spine.

You nodded, your heart pounding as you felt the weight of his words settle over you. And as the tension in the room hung heavy, sleep felt like the furthest thing from your mind.

[a-student-out-of-time]

More Real Talk

Hey everyone. Mod Bubbles here.

I'm not gonna beat around the bush here: you all know what's going on, you've all heard about it, you don't need me to tell you about it. You've heard about it and you're gonna hear about it a lot these next four years.

I don't want to talk about that. Instead, I wanna address something else that, on a personal level, I believe is a lot more serious but a lot easier to grapple with.

You wanna know what I believe is the biggest problem we're dealing with these days? You can point to a lot of things, but at the core, they all have the same root to them.

Hopelessness.

Yeah, a DR blog talking about hope, how crazy is that?

But in all seriousness, it's at the core of every argument, every political discussion, every post I see made about not just the near future, but the long term as well. It's always the same points about neo-fascism, climate change, wars, cyberpunk dystopias, and global extinction. Very few people today seem to have any faith that the world can be better.

And I can't say I blame them. I was there too once, when I was a teenager. I lived in constant fear of the future, worried about what it means for me, and I'd get trapped in doomscrolling cycles. I'd lay awake at night and cry my eyes out. Yet I'm still here, on the cusp of turning 30, and I'm at a better point in my life than I've ever been.

Fear and desperation are ultimately useful, but they can be self-destructive. They can prevent you from seeing the truth and make you ironically vulnerable to the ones you should be most afraid of.

Why do people join cults or militias or vote for bad politicians? Are they all just stupid or evil? Sure, some may be, but most are just desperate, afraid and don't understand how the world really works. They need a helping hand with deprogramming what they were told.

Here's the facts:

We've already beaten climate change's worst predictions and the changes we've made can be reversed.

Plastic pollution in the oceans is being cleaned up.

Conservation success stories just keep coming.

More people are living better lives nowadays, with lower rates of child morality, starvation, crime, preventable diseases, even bullying rates have declined.

The Green Energy Revolution is here and nothing is going to stop it.

New advancements in materials science are on the way and will revolutionize everything from construction to manufacturing to space exploration.

I say all this because the ultimate source of hope is knowledge. Yes, you can open yourself up to a lot of dark avenues when you start learning about the world, but you'll also learn how much good there is out there being done.

This isn't a distraction, it's how I help people understand that the world can always be better and that just one person being in power will not change that.

Now, I know what you may say to that. I've seen posts about how the internet is going to be censored, that propaganda spread everywhere, that there'll be concentration camps, the constitution will be ripped up, etc.

And to that, I have to be honest: I've already heard it all before.

The things you're worried about today? I was worried about them in 2009 during the Great Recession. People worried about them in 2005 when Bush was re-elected, and the concerns there also included terrorism. Do we even still talk about Al-Qaeda? Not really!

And misinformation in this age has always been a problem, especially on the big sites. These are old problems brought to the forefront, and it's always been important to learn the skills to spot them.

More importantly, all this assumes the administration would actually be able to implement any of their promises. Every administration does that and few of the truly big ones about change have happened, especially because said promises ran counter to reality within the system.

I'm not trying to downplay any concerns about the situation, I promise. It's okay to be sad, scared, and concerned about peoples' safety. It's okay to cry if you need to. What you should not do is give up just because of all this.

I'm going to sound very harsh for a moment, but I need to say it: by being doomerist and defeatist, you're part of the problem. You not only stop helping, you run the risk of discouraging other people from trying because you believe it's pointless. When you succumb to pessimistic nihilism, you create a self-fulfilling prophecy that only rewards those who benefit from your inaction or your death.

Don't do that to people. Don't do that to yourself.

The world gets better when you first believe it can be better. How do you do that?

Well, I can't speak for everyone, but here's some suggestions that I'm sticking to:

Live daily life. Get up, eat, stay hydrated, take your medication, bathe, dress comfortably, listen to music, watch a movie, clean your home, play a game, hang out with friends, just do things that make you happy. As you should always do.

Stop looking at doomer posts. It literally does not help with anything and they are not credible sources of information just because they're cynical.

Do not let go of your ambitions. Always have a dream or a goal in mind, no matter what it is, and always aim for it. It's never stupid, it's never too late, it's something you aspire to and that's really awesome.

Stop looking for enemies. There are more important things to devote your time to than arguing over inane bullshit on the internet. That's been true since the start.

Be kind to people. Let go of whatever anger and resentment you may have for people, try to make new friends, and recognize when you can help someone else in need. Sometimes it's as simple as letting them know you care.

Be kind to yourself. You are not a failure, you're not a burden, you're not a lost cause, you can always improve as long as you're alive.

Remove toxicity from your life. Cut out bad influences and replace them with better things. If you have to leave a toxic environment, you can work on doing so.

Always learn new things. It's really fun to end the day with a new piece of knowledge you didn't have the day before.

Let yourself feel. Are you angry? Sad? Scared? Worried? Let yourself feel it, and then you can move on. Don't bury an emotion or let it stagnate.

Learn to recognize bad faith posts/misinformation. This is a critical skill to possess and one you need to always pass on to others. Not everyone who posts it is evil, sometimes all they need is a simple correction on a matter and the situation will be resolved.

Clown on Evil. Whenever people want you to fear them or take them seriously, you mock them, make memes about them, treat them as a joke and defuse whatever power they try to have.

Be true to yourself. Above all, don't let the next 4 years turn you into something you're not.

I say all this as someone who's been around longer than a lot of people who follow me: your future is not empty. I wished I'd done years ago everything I'm doing now, but I've decided I'd rather do them than spend the rest of my life lamenting and wondering what might've been.

You can spend years convincing yourself there is no future, and then the future arrives and you have no idea what to do anymore.

Change- actual change- starts from below and works its way up. And no matter how much life beats you down, no matter what's on TV or what the future may hold, you can always choose to do something about it.

You can always choose to be kind to yourself and to others. You can always choose to believe. And that's where you can start.

[doghartzy]

today's insane concept to keep my mind off of other matters: will smith hockey getting a gay little earring.

i think it could go something like: mack's just fucking rambling again, of course, always going on about something, and will tunes in just in time to hear, 'would look good on you, smitty, like hot i think. girls love that pretty shit.' and will has to do a little mental reset before he can laugh awkwardly and go, 'mack. what.'

mack's like, 'i'm telling you dude, you've got the face for it i swear.'

'no,' says will, 'what the fuck are you talking about.'

mack rolls his eyes. 'you're such a shitty listener. you should get your ears pierced, dude.' frowns. 'or ear. less --' waves his hand around as if to indicate the broad, nebulous idea of homo that he doesn't like to actually put into words. will appreciates that about him.

'hmm,' says will. 'i don't know.' but mack starts up right where he left off -- it'd be so hot, smitty, and what's your problem anyway, no way you're afraid of needles, lmao (pronounced luh-maow). and will's like prepared to just forget this entire conversation happened, and mack forgets about it pretty much as soon as he gets on the subject of their boston game, which is coming up, and he's got ideas for how they should be on the same line for it. but will catches himself in the mirror a couple days later and thinks, mack said it'd be hot. and, he reasons, he can always just take it out if he doesn't like it. duh.

cue will showing up to practice with a diamond stud because he thought it was like, showy but not too feminine. it's like, a classic. diamonds are always classic. and mack's like HOLY SHIT DUDE. I TOLD YOU. will has to stop him from poking at it, because now that he's got it he's at least gonna make sure it heals properly, and mack's hands are all grimy like a toddler's. but when the rest of the team starts filtering in it's this weird mix of guys who think it's neat, guys who don't bring it up at all, and maybe one or two guys going 'what the hell's this all about, dude?' which is, you know. will's not insecure or anything, that's a girl thing, but he doesn't love that reaction.

so will revisits himself in the mirror later and thinks aw shit, maybe a hoop would've been better. maybe the diamond IS gay. maybe it's too sparkly and i fucked this up and i should just take it out and be done with it and, oh shit, what happens if i get hit in the fucking head and my ear starts bleeding and everyone on the ice knows that i went out and got a PIERCING on PURPOSE which is just SUCH a gayass thing to do, oh my god. and will's like convinced himself fully to take it out, it was a stupid idea anyway, but there's a very, very small part of him that's thinking about mack reaching for him in the room that morning, mouth open in this fascinated little o, going, 'did it hurt? can i -- it looks so good, bud, wow, just like i thought. sick, dude, i --' like he's trying to figure out how to ask for something he doesn't even know he wants. so will leaves the earring in.

[weneeya]

Third years in haikyuu reacting to reader dressing up all pretty ?

pretty for you m.list | rules

pairing. karasuno's third years x reader

characters. daichi, sugawara, asahi, kiyoko

note. yes yes yes, i want to write this (i assumed it was karasuno's third years) and ofc i included kiyoko bc i love women sm <3

⎯ Sawamura Daichi

When you told him you would be late, he almost immediately started to panic. Were you okay? Did you have any problems? He thought you would have told him if anything was wrong, but he could not help it, he was way too protective of you. Daichi always needed to be sure that you were doing fine and that nothing was troubling you too much. 

He was trying to reassure himself when he heard your voice calling his name from behind his back. He turned around in no time, and froze the second after he saw you. You were so pretty. He always thought you looked pretty, of course, but today? It was even more. He took a step closer to you, noticing the way you seemed to be panicking a bit about his silence. 

Daichi gently took your hand in his, and brought it to his lips so he could leave a soft kiss against the back of it. “You look amazing.” He told you, and his warm smile eased all of your worries. You smiled softly, glad that he liked the effort you made for him. 

“Sorry for the lateness, I just wanted to look perfect,” you explained to him, and he chuckled a little at your words. You really were adorable, nothing would change that and he knew it. 

“Don’t worry, you can be late all you want if you look this great.” You felt your cheeks burning slightly at his words, and he took your hand in his larger one.

⎯ Sugawara Koushi

You were just supposed to chill out at Suga’s place, nothing more. He wanted to show you something apparently, and you could not wait to see what it was. You did not really know why, but you wanted to make some more efforts to look especially pretty today. Perhaps you needed it, to be told compliments. 

You knocked at his door, and he opened it in no time. He was all too excited to be seeing you. When his eyes laid on your figure, they moved up and down to take a better look at your outfit. They lingered a bit longer on your face, before a smile appeared on his lips. 

“You’re so pretty. Is that for me?” He asked, and you cleared your throat while looking away. You nodded softly, which made his smile grow a bit wider. He quickly took your hand, closing the door of his room behind him. “What are you doing?” You asked him, a bit surprised. 

“No way we’re staying here when you look this pretty! I want the world to see how gorgeous my girlfriend is.” And you swore you felt your whole body melting at his words.

⎯ Asahi Azumane

He was always so nervous when he was seeing you alone. It made no sense, because you two were together, and he knew you were the most sincere and sweet person he ever met in his life. Yet, he couldn't help but feel stressed every time. It was in his nature after all. It was a force which was stronger than him. 

He arrived late because of his bus, and it made him even more nervous because he did not want to make you wait too long alone outside. When Asahi finally arrived, his eyes almost immediately locked on your figure. 

You always looked pretty. You were probably the prettiest girl he ever met in his whole life, and he was not even exaggerating. But your outfit made you look even prettier ; and the way you tied your hair? He swore he could have faint right here and right now, in the middle of the street. 

He walked to you quickly, not wanting to make you wait even more than it was already the case. He cleared his throat, and you looked at him with the softest smile on Earth. How could he not be a nervous mess with you around? He sighed slowly, easing himself down as you wrapped your arm around his. 

“Do you like how I dressed today?” You asked him, and he immediately looked at you with a smile. Did you really expect him to say no? He could not believe it. 

“You’re gorgeous, really. I almost fell down back there when I saw you from afar.” His words made you chuckle a bit, and he did the same when he heard you. You really were the best at soothing him down after all.

⎯ Kiyoko Shimizu

She was the prettiest girl you knew. She looked so good in everything, all the time, and you could never understand how it was possible. So when you two decided to go out to do some shopping together, you decided that you wanted to try to be as pretty as her. You did not want her to go out with someone not as good as her. 

Kiyoko was not the most expressive girl, and you knew it well. You did not dress up for her to say anything, but you secretly hoped she would love the way you looked for her today. You were both sitting at a cafe, drinking something hot to warm yourselves up. 

“You really are pretty today. I like the way it looks on you.” She said out of nowhere, after she put her cup down on the table. You almost choked on air, before you looked up at her with your cheeks burning. 

“You think so..?” You asked, a bit hesitant, and she met your eyes. The way she looked at you meant everything, but she still replied so you would not doubt her words. “Of course I do. You’re always pretty though, don’t worry about it.” 

You could not restrain the light smile that appeared on your lips as she reassured you so easily, making your heart race and your stomach do flips. She really was doing so much efforts for you, and it made you so happy.

thank you for reading!!

[auroralwriting]

my lover

charles xavier x fem!reader

you and charles have a peaceful, euphoric life together. tonight was no exception. (based on this request)

word count: 1.3k | warnings: tooth rotting fluff

The Xavier Mansion, now known as the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters, was a lively, bright place you felt lucky to call your home. It was always bustling with children and teenagers roaming and exploring, creating connections and learning about their mutations. It was an unfathomable sight to witness, one you were glad you could live to see.

It wasn't long ago now that Charles had proposed to you. Maybe it was becoming wheelchair bound that finally pushed him, seeing your relentless support and undying affection for him, mobile or not. It was a sweet thing. Private, romantic, the way you'd always known Charles would propose.

Sure, some things were missing, like Raven, a nearly lifelong friend of yours, and one of Charles'. Another friend, he was missing, too. Of course, you both wished they could be here, but it wasn't like you were all alone. Alex and Hank were good friends. They seemed the most drawn to both of you. It was nice. It was home.

You walked the halls of your beloved school, one you were proud to teach at. You smiled at kids as they passed, all greeting you cheerfully. Truthfully, you were looking for Charles. Yes, you could reach out to him telepathically, but you always knew exactly where he would be almost like magic. At least, that's what Charles called it.

That was the great thing about you and Charles. He didn't need his mutation to read you, and you didn't need it to understand him. You had just clicked. It's what had drawn a teenage Charles to you in the first place. The way you spoke to him, matched his intellect, his interests, his passions, and then eventually discovering your shared desire for peace between mutants and humans, it all just confirmed to Charles you were the one. He's always known that.

"Charles?" Your voice carried softly into your shared room with the professor. He was sat in his wheelchair, looking out your window to the courtyard, watching groups of students interact around a bonfire. "Charles, my beloved,"

The Professor smiled at your voice, turning his head. "Darling, have I told you that you looked gorgeous today?"

"Several times, actually." You smiled, walking over to him and helping him move onto the bed to be more comfortable. He leaned against the headboard, staring at you with near hearts in his eyes. "You tell me several times every day."

"It should be a hundred," Charles chuckled. "Sit with me, my love. I want to relish your presence."

You sat comfortably next to him, leaning your head on his shoulder. "I have been busy lately, haven't I?"

"You're a teacher, it comes with the job," Charles chuckled. It was true. Being a normal teacher was hard, but a teacher for mutants was even harder at times. "How was your classes today? Still having trouble with young Jean?"

"She's getting better," you replied confidently. "More confident. I see it in her every day."

Charles nodded, "As do I. We're making good progress with her."

"You've been talking about school a lot lately," you pointed out. "Are you just very focused on it right now, or is there something else?"

You always could find any problems Charles had. Again, magic. "You caught me, my dear. I'm just.. worried, is all. The war, I've heard things. I heard it's getting worse. I just worry."

"Charles," you interlaced your fingers together as you squeezed his hand three times. "That's so far out of your control. Keep your mind here, with me. With the students. If things change, that is out of our control. We just have to soak all of this in now. There may be some time we don't have this."

"That's why I worry," Charles replied. "I worry for the kids, for what will become of this place."

A small, sympathetic smile graced your lips. "This place will always be a school, even if it has to be.. inactive for a little time. This will always be a safe place."

"You.. are right as always, love." Charles sighed. "I am here, I promise. I'll keep my mind from wandering as best as I can. And you're right. This is a school. Maybe preparing our children for this would help ease my worry."

You smiled, "That's a wonderful idea, Charles. I'm sure it would put their minds at ease, too."

Charles flipped your hand so the top was facing him. He bent your hand back slightly, observing the ring on your finger. "It truly does suit you,"

"Well, I technically did choose it. You probed my mind to find it," you laughed. Charles had spent a week trying to find your perfect, ideal ring. Finally, he found a good image and searched for even more weeks to find the perfect one. Of course, money was no issue. He didn't tell you how much the ring was worth, but damn.

"I just wanted it to be perfect, you deserve it all." Charles replied, bringing your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. "I want to give you everything you've ever wanted in life."

"You already have," you replied, a shake to your head. "This is everything to me. Even if it was just us."

Charles raised a brow, "Are you insinuating that Hank's presence was unwelcomed?"

"Well," you bit your lip, "he intruded quite a lot. Remember that one time he walked in on us while you were between my--"

"You make a good point!" Charles cut you off, laughing softly after. "Come here, love. I think I've finally mastered the art of hair braiding."

You scooted in front of Charles, allowing his fingers to tangle in your hair. "You know," you began, "it's sort of like all of these kids are our own in some ways. I mean, we understand them better than their families ever could. They also happen to live under our roof."

Charles hummed, "Is that something you want?"

"Children?" You asked, causing Charles to nod in confirmation. "Yeah, I don't think I would mind one or two mini-us running around this place."

"It would drive Hank up the wall," Charles laughed. "I don't think he could stand one or two more of us."

Shrugging, you felt Charles' fingers pull ever so softly. "I think he'd just have to learn to live with it." You felt Charles reach the end of your hair as you passed him a hair tie. You sat up on your knees, looking in the mirror that hung on the all above your bed. "You french braided my hair!"

"I did," Charles proudly smirked.

Ever since he lost use of his legs, he began to take up new hobbies. He wasn't bad at crochet or poetry, but he liked finding ways to help you. Braiding your hair in the evening was one less thing to worry about in the morning. So was sewing holes from accidents in the danger room and good massages.

Don't think Charles did it all, however. Cooking was not up his alley, nor was cleaning anymore. Taking care of some yard work was also your own tasks, unless a certain student with special abilities offered to lend a hand. Life was balanced with you and Charles.

"It looks amazing," you praised as you observed how neat it looked. "I couldn't make it look this good myself if I tried."

"I had a good volunteer for practice." Charles smiled as you leaned down to press a kiss to his lips. "My love, it's getting quite late. We have early morning danger room drills if I'm not mistaken."

"Unfortunately, we do," you replied. "Time for some rest?"

Charles smiled. This was his favorite part of the night. "Indeed, darling. Come here, let me hold you tonight." He always said that every night, but the outcome was no different. You turned off the lights and curled up into his arms, allowing him to hold you, pressing soft kisses to the top of your head.

Life with Charles was like a dream. No matter how much either of your changed, you adapted. That's what soulmates do, is it not?

[coimbrabertone]

Offtopic Offseason #4 - Clone Wars Rewatch Thoughts: Part II.

So, the Clone Wars rewatch.

I'm about halfway through season five now and God the show got an amazing glow-up in the later seasons.

The timeskip in the middle of season three is a big one but I didn't realize that it was actually somewhat staggered - Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Ahsoka get their redesigns in S3E10, but the Clone Troopers don't go to the Phase II armor until season four. We also don't really see many clones in the Mon Calamari episodes or on Naboo, so the Phase II armor doesn't really get focus until the Umbara arc.

From that point onwards season four is amazing. Season four is my favorite of the original run and overall, it's up there with season seven - and that's high praise considering the Siege of Mandalore arc in the series finale is some of my favorite Star Wars content period, not just in Clone Wars, but in general.

It's got Maul, it's got Mandalore, it's got Ahsoka, and it ties directly into Revenge of the Sith. What more could you want?

In fact, just before writing this I saw a clip on twitter of the moment Rex gets Order 66 and the RotS music kicks in and it's just...chef's kiss.

The animation is beautiful, the characters are fully fleshed out and realized at this point, and we get to experience the high drama of Revenge of the Sith from their perspective. It's wonderful.

Tying into Revenge of the Sith, there's also the main thing I wanted to talk about today: the Clone Wars saves Anakin's character.

Already from Attack of the Clones we see a dark, brooding Anakin that's chaffing against Obi-Wan's teachings, that can't control himself around Padme, and the darkness in him is obvious. Sure, the Jedi didn't know exactly what Anakin did to the Tusken Raiders, but we literally see Yoda and Mace Windu feeling the ripples in the Force and instantly knowing it was Anakin.

Then, after that, Anakin tries to derail the hunt for Dooku on Geonosis because of Padme, and Obi-Wan has to literally scream at him to keep him on mission. Obi-Wan literally yells "You'll be expelled from the Jedi Order!" but then we never see the Jedi follow up on this. Sure, Episode III implies that Obi-Wan knew about it and kept quiet, but we never really see a justification as to why.

Episode III tries to make up for this by showing some friendly banter between Obi-Wan and Anakin, particularly while they're rescuing the Chancellor, but it doesn't really land - especially not since we see Anakin get angry at the Council to their faces after the whole master thing. Not to mention his connections to Palpatine, him killing Dooku, and the fact that he's clearly troubled during his meditations with Yoda.

In short, the Anakin we see in the movies is clearly troubled, clearly going down a dark path, and nobody seems to give a shit about it. They just let this problem keep steamrolling until it's at the Jedi Temple committing Order 66.

Now, this is not a ridicule against Hayden Christensen, because he's doing what he's told to do. In fact, I'd say that Hayden Christensen plays Anakin's dark moments better than Matt Lanter does in Clone Wars.

What Matt Lanter does, however, is show Anakin's redeeming characteristics.

Clone Wars has the time to go out and show that Anakin has a charming side, a funny side, that he cares about his friends, and that he's an immense asset for the Republic war effort. We see enough moments between Anakin and Obi-Wan that it becomes clear why his master would give him the benefit of the doubt, and there are even a few reasons why Yoda and Mace Windu would give him a bit of a leash.

And, as many people have pointed out before, the whole drama with how Ahsoka left the Jedi Order just as she was about to become a Knight means that Anakin did fully train a Padawan. He did all the work to be considered a Master, but because of the Council's actions during the Sabotage arc, he's screwed out of the rank. This means it is an outrage, it is unfair.

Anakin's not being a petulant child, he's getting cheated out of a rank because the Council doesn't trust him.

There's also the fact that a lot of Anakin's dark moments in Clone Wars, particularly early on, are because he's trying to save his friends. He Force Chokes Poggle the Lesser to save Ahsoka from the brain worms, he strikes first and brands himself a cold-blooded killer because Tal Merrik is threatening to blow up the ship, and in the Mortis arc, Anakin turns to the Dark Side now in a misguided attempt to stop the greater evil of him becoming Darth Vader.

The show establishes early on with the Lair of Grievous episode that the war is driving the Jedi closer and closer to the Dark Side, and that includes Anakin. The war gives him convenient excuses for going for the dark option over and over again.

Then we get the Zygerrian slavers arc and the Obi-Wan undercover arc back to back.

We see Obi-Wan and Ahsoka get uncomfortable with Anakin's actions during the slavers arc, but he's given the benefit of the doubt because one: Obi-Wan knows his freudian excuse, and two: the slavers are objectively terrible.

Then just after Anakin gets dragged through that stressful situation, he's thrown into another one as the Council fakes Obi-Wan's death and sends him undercover, all without telling Anakin. When he does find out, Obi-Wan fails to address Anakin's real concerns. This sets up for Episode III perfectly because it erodes Anakin's trust in the Council, makes Obi-Wan part of that mistrust, and drives Anakin closer to Palpatine.

Palpatine, who is clearly taking an interest in Anakin's duel with Count Dooku.

Stuff like this gives Anakin a slower, more believable fall to the Dark Side.

Now consider the fact that the Clovis episodes of season six were originally meant to be early in season five before getting temporarily canned. This means that not long after Zygerria and the undercover plot, we'd get an arc focusing on Anakin's increasingly toxic and possessive side with Padme.

Hitting the dark notes one by one...and then the Sabotage arc serves to take Anakin's Padawan away.

He's losing his trust in Obi-Wan, he doesn't trust the Council at all after they were ready to blame the bombing on Ahsoka, and his relationship with Padme is taking an unhealthy turn - and on top of all that, Anakin just lost a positive influence in his life. Ahsoka isn't there to keep him responsible and to provide a check on his actions.

Anakin's alone, but Palpatine's there, whispering the Dark Side into his ears.

Then, as we go into the events of Episode III, a returning Ahsoka is sent to Mandalore to fight Maul along with Rex, while Obi-Wan is sent to Utapau to finish off Grievous. Once again, Anakin's positive influences are kept away while Anakin is stuck on Coruscant. The Council wants him to spy on Palpatine, he doesn't want to, and he immediately blows the scheme to Palpatine.

That's when Palpatine makes his move.

Anakin pushes away for a moment and goes to Mace, but Mace tells him to stay at the temple.

Anakin can't, he goes there, and he cuts Windu's arm off - the point of no return.

Clone Wars is there to recontextualize Anakin's actions, flesh them out a bit more, and make his fall to the Dark Side more believable. That's the biggest service it does to any character in the franchise, and it makes Star Wars as a whole stronger.

So yeah, the show is good.

I think I covered most of the stuff that happens later on in the show in this one, but I'm still watching so maybe I'll do a part three next week if something stands out. That being said, the Rolex 24 is this weekend and that means the offseason is coming to an end, so perhaps it's about time for this blog to get motorsport-y again. We'll have to see though.

All I can promise is that next week, I'll write about whatever's on my mind. If that's Clone Wars, then it's Clone Wars, if it's race cars, then it's race cars, if it's some other third thing, then it's some other third thing.

So...tune in next week to find out!

[kittenfangirl20]

Adam: I don’t know, would he even want me if he knew what I had to survive down here? I am not the sweet and innocent guy he knew in Eden.

Cherri: There is nothing wrong with you, in fact the problem is with Steve. He took advantage of you when you were vulnerable.

Adam just gave Cherri a slight smile, she always knew what to say to make him feel at least a little better.

Adam: Thank you Cherri.

Cherri: No problem, you are one of the coolest people I know.

After having a few drinks Adam went back to the hotel. Lucifer was sadly looking down at the reflective surface of the bar seeing that like anyone who sold their soul, he took on some of the traits of the person who own their soul. His fangs which used to be pearly white were now that sickly shade of yellow that Alastor had and his eyes were now completely red. He bet that the Six Deadly Sins were laughing at the fact that Lucifer had to sell his soul. He looked up and saw Adam who smiled at him. Only one of Adam’s fangs were gold and the sclera of one of Adam’s eyes was black. But that seemed to be endearing on him.

Lucifer: Do you need a drink?

Adam: No, I wanted to spend time with you.

Adam sat down at the bar and he couldn’t help but at seeing muscles in Lucifer’s arms because he kept his sleeves rolled up. He wondered how muscular Lucifer actually was his body was kept under either robes or that ringmaster style suit he wore as King of Hell. Lucifer now wore a red button up shirt, a black vest, a black bow tie with a rubber duck pin in the middle of it, and black pants along with black and red boots.

Adam: Why did you leave me alone in Eden?

Hearing the pain in Adam’s voice broke Lucifer’s heart.

Lucifer: I was an idiot, Lilith told me the you were secretly trying to control her.

Adam: Why would I do that? I was told that Lilith was my companion and my equal. Why would I think that I am above her?

Now that Lucifer heard Adam’s words he truly realized how truly stupid he was. It must have hurt Adam trying to find Lucifer only to be told he ran away with Lilith.

Lucifer: I am so sorry, I know that my words can’t make up for the pain I caused you, but I am truly sorry.

Adam: I forgave you a long time ago, but that doesn’t change the fact that it still hurts.

Both were so close that they were about to kiss, but Charlie walked over to them which caused them to pull away.

Charlie: Adam? Dad? I wanted to start with some exercises to help break the ice with the guests.

They walked over to the lobby to see Alastor in an arm chair while Niffty sat in his lap. There wasn’t anything sexual behind Niffty’s actions, it was more like a father with his favored daughter. There was a new Sinner who had a snake like appearance and wore clothes that were in a Steampunk style.

Charlie: Everyone this is Sir Pentious, he came to the hotel in order to give redemption a try.

Sir Pentious: Hello.

Everyone had to get involved with an exercise that was a way to introduce themselves.

@things-arent-what-they-seem66

Huskerdust Au

Adam stretched his long limbs over the hotel couch as he sucked on a popsicle, deep throating it as fair as he could while scrolling Sinstagram. His lamb ears twitched with annoyance with every text he got from his pimp Steve.

Asshole wants him to move back into the tower, never going to happen.

Charlie and Vaggie were trying to think of ways to drum up more clients for the hotel.

Adam: Ladies! You could always utilize the local talent.~

Charlie: Hehe, well Adam as kind as that is I wouldn't want to take advantage of you.

Vaggie: And we aren't making a porno.

Adam: Suit yourselves.

Then there was a knock at the door, when Charlie answered it was the Radio Demon who basically pushed his way in.

Alastor: The names Alastor, and what might you do my fluffy feminine fellow?

Adam smirked: I can suck your dick.

Alastor: Ha! No.

Adam: Your loss.

Charlie: Are you here to be redeemed?

Alastor just laughed: Oh no nothing silly like that. I'm here to help! And I can even provide more staff.

He snapped his fingers and a little ball came down the chimney which turned into a woman with one eye.

Nifty: Hi! I'm Nifty, I clean everything!

Alastor snapped his fingers again and a bar appeared.

Lucifer blinked, he was just at the crabs table on a winning streak the fuck is this!?

Lucifer: Hey! I was winning!

Alastor: And now I need your assistance, you can have all the cheap booze you want in exchange.

Lucifer growled and stomped over to the bar, one day he would be free of that prick. He cracked open a bottle of whiskey and started to drink it.

Adams eyes went wide, he made sure chest was nice and amplified and that his thong sides were showing on either side of his hips and plastered on the best smile he could as he sat down at the bar winking at Lucifer.

Adam: And who might you be, handsome?~

Lucifer looked up and both men looked at each other in shock.

Lucifer: Adam?

Adam: Yeah, what is the former King of Hell doing here?

Lucifer: I have a job, what about you?

Adam: I am trying to get back into Heaven.

Lucifer had heard that Adam was kicked out of Heaven for liking things that were considered sinful like rock music and swearing.

Charlie: Dad? Is everything alright? I was worried after you disappeared after Satan took over. Do you need help?

Lucifer: I am alright Char Char, I guess we now get to see each other more often.

Adam: I need to go to work, I will be back later.

Adam left surprised seeing his first love at the hotel, he went to the studio he worked at. Steve was waiting outside.

Steve: Do you honestly think that this redemption thing works?

Adam: I’m here to work.

Steve: Good boy, I want you with a man and a woman tonight. Get inside.

Adam walked in and let them take off Adam’s clothes. On the bed were other porn stars that Steve owned the souls of and Adam got into bed with them.

@things-arent-what-they-seem66

[anaalnathrakhs]

"i thought you said you'd make an effort" MOTHERFUCKER THIS IS ONLY COMPLAINT #1 OUT OF A VERY LONG LIST JUST BE GRATEFUL I CAN WAIT UNTIL THE GUESTS ARE GONE TO SNAP

[tacagen]

one of the things that fascinate me about thawne: yes, he CAN be normal with kids! surprisingly normal!

((not at all times, though. his mental illness still spills through and as usual he, in trying to manipulate or hurt others, spits out at them the exact stuff that would hurt him (or have in his childhood/barry's rejection interpretation) the most in the first place lmao))

but at the same time. his like second instinct when doing his bullshit is FUCK THEM (as) KIDS

(and, well. whatever this classifies as)

[thelovers-thedreamers-and-me]

the downside to being a sitcom neighbour sort of person is that when rough things happen and emotionally fuck u up a lil bit, it also sounds completely made up

[figofswords]

anybody remember the stephanie brown essay I was working on under a research grant fully last summer? yeah it’s not done yet it super needs to be done and I’ve been avoiding working on it for weeks. someone tell me to just do it already

[autisticlee]

sometimes I think about how when I went to college for a year before I dropped out (basically failed out,) the counselors/dean told me they can't help me at all or give any accommodations unless I have an official autism/adhd diagnosis. that might sound logical at first, but when you think about it more, it's actually quite fucked up. if someone is struggling really bad, what's the harm in helping them? why do they require a paper to get even the smallest amount of help? people who don't need help aren't going to be failing miserably without help! even NTs could benefit from some adjustments to the horrible school system! (but changing the entire system is a whole other conversation that the school system isnt ready for)

but even if you do agree to jump through their hoops, you realize it's even more fucked up that the diagnosis process requires YEARS in most cases (in my case it took 4 or 5 years, can't recall exactly now, for autism/adhd diagnosis, which would have meant i finished school before getting it if i managed to mot fail out, or i wait that long before going back, which is a whole struggle itself) and they also tried billing me for THOUSANDS of dollars because of insurance issues!!

so you put a ton of time and money into this, and then get told the only accommodation they are willing to give you for autism and adhd is "a little extra time on tests"

....

my test scores were the best part of my whole class experience. that was NOT what I struggled with!!!!! those tests were all online and could be done in the comfort of your home where you can accommodate yourself and have plenty of time left over when you finish them because you are comfy in your own space, (and also, no one was stopping you from having your notes/books/google open to find the answers,) and you don't even need a time consuming, expensive diagnosis for that!

SO WHAT'S THE POINT!!!!!!!

[yourgamemasterthewhiterabbit]

Shout out to the guy who read:

"I keep trying to warn you where this will lead.

It isn't about what I want or what I think should happen, I'm not endorsing anything, let's be clear, it's about what will happen, really, it's about human nature.

This isn't about what's moral, or what's reasonable, or what you think you can stoke a divisive culture war against, it isn't about my opinion, I did not invent the nature of need, it's about what people have always done when faced with no good options, guns in their hands and staring up at the people sentencing them to suffering and death."

Interpreted it as me saying "gun violence is the appropriate solution" and then threatened me with gun violence for saying it was the solution...

And then deleted his reblog when I pointed out his lack of reading comprehension and blocked him.

Leave alone that he is exactly the kind of disillusioned right wing supporting gun toting reactionary who I was trying to point out will be the ones actually enacting the gun violence [not so much the staunch leftists who believe in the value of human life]... As has actually already been proven at least 3 times now.

I'd like to remind him that I do report people for threats of physical violence and for harassment.

And I'd like to recommend stepping away from the internet and having a nice hot bath or something every time he feels the need to try to make a nasty comment... Before he makes an ass of himself again.

I'd also like to reiterate that I am not endorsing gun violence, I am merely pointing out that this will continue to happen if we stay on this trajectory, and you can't reasonably expect another outcome.

Look at history's example.

You are fucking so deeply with human rights and everyone being able to meet their basic needs that the angry incels who used to be taking aim at women and students, are the exact group who are now looking angrily up at billionaires and politicians, having finally seen who they should be mad at [not an endorsement of them seeing gun violence as the solution], and wow I bet THEY -the largely rich white men who are 'calling the shots'- don't like it when the guns are being aimed at them instead of the women and children they can usually scapegoat...

Maybe try not to literally threaten to shoot the messenger?

I mean, I can also predict that suddenly gun reform will start to seem okay or be dropped as a main talking point by the political right once enough billionaires, CEOs, and politicians are shot/shot at... That's just me pointing out what's a near inevitability... Not me exerting some power to try to make it happen. [I have none]

I'm not the one with the gun, and I'm not the one stripping people of their basic human rights or denying their needs for survival. I have no power to tell people what to do and I have about as much influence as your average tumblr shit-poster at best. That is in fact the MOST power I have in any facet of my life. I'm just telling you what I see happening. If you think lashing out at me solves anything, you are misdirecting that energy, buddy.