#making a self care tag cause we all deserve it

[majorproblems77]

How are you doing? Life treating you well? Get enough sleep? Drink water? Eat today?

Hey Rastro!

Life's been an... adventure. But I'm okay. Finally free from a major assignment and have some time off uni now before I go back for the exam season.

Defo slept today. I've spent most of the afternoon alternating between TP and napping. As I've pulled a couple all nighters this week it was well needed I tell ya. Apart from the fact that I need to go to bed bed now and I ain't tired lmao

I've had food. I've had water. So im good on those fronts.

Wbu? How you been? Self care check for you too!

[extremely-judgemental]

[Really, really long post.]

Every time I see ‘let my girl be happy’ tag and the post is about canon Nessian, it infuriates me as much as breaks my heart. Sometimes I wonder those who romanticise Cassian’s behaviour are speaking from a place of privilege or ignorance because admitting that calls for addressing real life abuse that misogyny forces them to endure.

I’m an Indian living in a highly patriarchal, misogynistic society where women are still required to marry someone out of convenience for the sake of their families. This is not the cute arranged marriages you read in books or watch in movies. Most women have to sacrifice everything they are and they stand for to ease the family’s burden. Let’s not start with dowry or DV. Sure our society has progressed in many ways, this is still reality of most women when it comes to marriages and having a family. No matter how well off you are, no matter how successful you are in your career. It’s more nuanced than you can imagine where the parents meddle with children’s life at every step and our lives are more intertwined with our families than in western society. So I simply can’t read Nesta’s story and delude myself that she got a happy ending with Cassian or the IC. I try to keep my emotions out of most of the criticisms to help people see the situation objectively. That’s hard to do in this case but I’ll try.

Nesta is the eldest child who ‘fails’ her sisters when it is her father’s responsibility to take care of three young girls. Being groomed to be a housewife all her life, Nesta contributes as much as she can by doing the chores and nurturing her family the only way she knows how. She seeks help from relatives and friends while the ones in position to do so ignore her. And when the time comes, she finds the way to be of use to her family by marrying Tomas. Despite all this, Nesta is a failure of a sister simply because Feyre made a choice. These only come to light in Nesta’s book and even the few instances where Feyre realises this, there’s no real appreciation for her efforts. They are dismissed and only mentioned to highlight Feyre’s empathic tendencies and her general awareness of her sisters’ plights rather than uplifting Nesta’s character itself. None of these are acknowledged as these aren’t the typical masculine ways that’s glorified throughout the series.

As Nesta navigates her life as a recently transformed fae, she partakes in a war she has no part in. She has no obligation or need to risk her life for Night Court, or any other court, or even the mortals. These are the same acts that make Feyre a hero in the first book. But when it comes to Nesta and she rises to the occasion, it’s downplayed as she deals with PTSD from her death, the Cauldron, the toll of war, and her father’s death. None of her sacrifices or her attempts to protect her sisters are given an ounce of importance or due respect that it deserves. It’s turned into Nesta’s duty as the eldest sister or the sister of Night Court’s High Lady instead.

When Nesta deals with her trauma, everyone takes great pleasure in controlling how the situation pans out. She goes as far as to live alone to spare her sisters, yet Feyre and Elain who have the choice of when and how to regulate their emotions, don’t grasp the concept of personal space. Her actions are self-sabotaging at best and have no real consequence on any of the other characters. Still, they are amplified to an extent that it’s made into a court affair. And the reason for this is Nesta isn’t coping in the right way. Gambling, drinking and sex which are common activities for the IC become a question of their reputation the moment she does it in her pain, emphasising that these are only acceptable when she does it with them. Spending Feyre’s money on gambling may seem like a reasonable cause for the IC to interfere but if we factor in how Nesta’s rightful wealth from Tamlin or her father was lost because of the direct consequence of IC’s actions, along with the fact that she’s still owed money for her contribution in the war, Nesta is deliberately stripped off any monetary agency to trap her.

If this isn’t punishment enough, Nesta is locked in an inescapable tower with a man she wants no part with. And when she fights, she is lied to about laws and threatened to be thrown among people who consider her a threat. She has no interest in training to fight or work for the Night Court but she’s forced to. She’s not compensated for any of this labour either. Nesta is known to starve herself after the war to the point that she’s all ‘skin and bones’. Cassian, an established gym bro in the series, weaponises food against her when she doesn’t eat what is offered and when. The moment she shows any interest in eating, he judges her for being picky and brings up her latent guilt that leads her down that path in the first place. And later on, knowing she’s not fit enough IC insists on training her right away and in freezing conditions without proper clothing. Nesta soon learns that she has no choice but to comply, goes on to train with Cassian, work in the library, and accept the food the house gives her. This is the first step in breaking her.

Nesta has no one to rely on or even talk to in the house except for Cassian. The relationship that develops between them is not circumstantial but a well orchestrated one. Even for small talk, her only choice is Cassian. After finding out Nesta was SA’d by the kelpie and was on the verge of death, no one (including her sisters) cares for her as much as they should. The one person who checks on her is Cassian and even he’s so overcome with his desire and lust that he has sex with her instead of comforting her. It’s a common knowledge that sex is a coping mechanism for her, and has been SA’d twice which something only Cassian knows. This perpetuates the idea that even when a woman is hurting and in pain, she has to be appealing, her trauma should be sexually gratifying and desirable for the man. A woman can walk back from the doors of death but she has to look pretty while doing it. There’s nothing empowering about that.

Feyre looks down on Nesta for contemplating selling her body to take care of her sisters. But the same is expected from her when she serves Night Court and seduces Eris. It’s almost glorified and revered by Cassian himself. During their conversation in River House, he lets Nesta believe that she has to earn his love and her sisters’. Not once does he contradict any of her fears or insecurities. For the first time, Nesta has sex with him without it being an escape and the next morning Cassian abandons her enforcing the idea that she indeed earned the sex and love for what she did in CoN.

When Nesta reveals the truth about Feyre’s pregnancy, her true feelings are swept under the rug with how she ‘failed’ her sister again. Nesta has the right to out Rhysand and his plans. And even if the situation isn’t the most appropriate, Nesta is locked in a tower and only ever talks to anyone when IC choose which limits her options. Besides, when will the timing be perfect for such conversation? Nesta is again vilified for being the only one honest to her sister and punished. Her intentions are warped to cover up others’ mistakes. Cassian is again the one who punishes her for it. Nesta is suicidal and Cassian recognises the signs. He insists on taking the hike, also using silent treatment to enforce the idea that Nesta is the one on the wrong. His interactions with Feyre proves none of them dwell on Nesta’s actions as much as she believes. While Nesta is having a guilt trip edging her closer to suicide, Cassian is laughing behind her back with Feyre, almost enjoying her fears. At the end of this trip, Nesta talks about her trauma for the first time, Cassian swoops in with his own sorrows and how he overcame them. Instead of making Nesta feel seen and heard, she’s again lectured on what she should do and how.

Lastly, Cassian and Morrigan have a mildly, if not completely, inappropriate relationship which Nesta is expected to accept. If she expresses jealousy or anger, it’s not because of the bond or their relationship but will be seen as an inherent quality of Nesta. She can’t fight it as everyone else has accepted it as a normal relationship. If Nesta shows any displeasure, her past of sleeping with other men will be brought into the conversation and she will be scrutinised. This is very similar to the ‘men will be men’ narrative where the man can flirt with whoever he wants and it’s harmless but the woman has to behave.

Throughout the series, everyone is against Nesta. Her family is her responsibility. She has duty to protect them and serve them no matter the circumstances, no matter how it costs her or how much pain she is in. Her own sisters will side with her in-laws saying it’s how things are and she ‘doesn��t have to be so miserable’. Her life is forever bound to a man she initially wanted nothing to do with and her everyday life is dependent on him. She is trapped with him until she learns to accept her fate. He doesn’t lay a hand on her but he psychologically and emotionally abuses her until she complies with his family and behaves to fit their image. He even gives her silent treatment, withdraws sex/intimacy from her, leaves her alone in the tower, cuts her off from everyone she loves and cares about if she misbehaves. She has no financial independence leaving her at the mercy of her sister and her family. Even when she’s hurting, she has no choice but to risk her life for them or go to wars when they demand. She goes as far as to change her body for her future child. Her life is threatened by her in-laws but no one bats an eye at that forever leaving her fearing for her safety.

If you believe it’s just fiction and all this is exaggeration of something in a fantasy book, you really need to look around you. This is a real nightmare for most women all over the world. Your girl Nesta isn’t happy. She settled. She has accepted a life where she’s treated less than a dog and is used as a weapon. She’s been beaten down until she learnt not to step out of line if she wants to live. She is still with Cassian because she doesn’t see a life other than that as an option and has come to accept whatever scraps her sister and her family have decided to throw her way. And I sincerely hope if you ever come across a real life Rhysand or Cassian, you have the wits to protect yourself and run the other way.

[nsharks]

against the wall | simon “ghost” riley

words: 1.7k

plot: simon finds himself (uncharacteristically) wanting to put a baby in you when he comes home

tags: breeding kink, lots of cum? lol, pregnancy talk, smut, fem!reader

______

Simon told you he doesn’t want kids.

But fuck, if he isn’t obsessed with burying his cum deep inside you and watching it seep out onto your thighs.

He started with condoms in the beginning, but you’d notice how frustrated he seemed, how he’d quietly groan in your ear that he wished he could fill you up. Mark your cunt as his.

Without him asking, you took the initiative to get on the pill. Surprised him with it one day when he was reaching for a condom and you grabbed his arm.

“I… I’m taking the pill now.”

He had stared at you intensely, a flicker of something primal in his eyes. “…What?”

“While you were gone, I went to the doctor. Started taking it so we don’t have to… We don’t have to worry.”

That was early on in the relationship, when the trust was still being built, so Simon requested to see the pills before he fucked you raw, a true testament to his self-control because his mind was already going into a frenzy at the idea of it.

But now the trust is there, you are officially his girlfriend, and Simon cums in your pretty little cunt all he wants.

And when he comes home after a few months, he’s got a lot of it saved up for you. Refusing to fuck his hand those few weeks before coming back so he can give you just what you deserve.

It’s only evening so he is certain you’re still awake when he gets back. Not bothering to take off his boots or uniform, Simon closes the door behind him and is met with a warm, cozy home that smells like you- a scent he had grown feral trying to recreate in his mind.

You’ve been eagerly waiting on the couch for him, wearing just a pair of pajama shorts and one of his big, long-sleeve shirts. You practically run to him when he comes inside, socked-feet slipping a little against the wood floor and causing you to tumble into his arms.

“Be careful,” is the first things he says to you. Scolds, rather.

You don’t really hear him as you wrap your arms around his shoulders the best you can. He used to be hesitant about hugs, but now he’s quite the fan; loves how he can feel your breasts squish against his chest even through the uniform, and he feels how wild your heartbeat is, indicating that you’re just excited about seeing him as he is you.

Pressing your nose into his chest, Simon drops his duffel bag so he can fully embrace you.

“Missed ya,” he tells you, swallowing down the thrumming lust in his veins because he’s not sure if you’re in the mood that he is. He should be exhausted. Should undress and melt into bed without another thought. But the feel of you in his arms, that vanilla and floral scent of your shower gel that fills his senses and reminds him of how it feels to bury his face in your hair, makes him uncomfortably stiff.

“I missed you, too,” you sigh.

It’s a sweet moment, but the air quickly shifts when you feel his clothed cock press against your lower stomach. Your hug breaks slightly and you lift your head from his chest to look up at him in question.

“Don’t give me tha’ look,” he huffs. “What did you expect after three months?”

And with the way his bulge brushes against you, a soft whimper leaving your lips, Simon doesn’t have much control left. Not when he’d been saving himself for you, eager to spread you open and show him just how much he’d been thinking about you. Show you just how crazy you make him, despite all his previous efforts to keep some distance.

“Simon…” you whisper, and he’s already lifting his mask to cover your mouth with a firm, touch-starved kiss.

“I know, baby,” he mumbles into your mouth, letting his hands fall to your hips. Thinks it’s so cute how your little hands ball up the thick fabric of his shirt as you sigh into the kiss.

But he doesn’t kiss you for long.

It’s a flurry of movement, and in no time at all, Simon has his trousers bunched up at his ankles and your body pressed against the wall. He might’ve worried about being too rough with you, given how breakable you feel under his strong hands, but he’s known you long enough to know that his rough touch invites an excited gleam in your eyes and a slick warmth between your legs.

“Do you know how many times I thought about your cunt?” He demands low in your ear, keeping his body pressed close against yours. The warmth of him is consuming and the hairs on your skin stand up eagerly. His briefs are still on, barely able to keep his hard cock contained and you feel the tip of it peek out and graze against your thin shorts.

“In the middle of a fuckin’ mission,” he continues, groaning. “Miles away and your cunt still manages to distract me.”

He’s got a filthy mouth, and maybe he’s taunting you with it, but that doesn’t seem to be a concern as he fits a hand under your shorts and touches your folds. His fingers are met with the evidence of your arousal- evidence of how much of a distraction he was for you, too. Collecting some of the lubrication, his hand is soon gone so he can tug out his cock and stroke your wetness over himself.

“Thought about you, too,” you tell him weakly. Cheek to the wall, you feel his hand wrap around your hair and another hand shoves your shorts down.

It was sort of telling, how Simon had barely made it two steps into the house before you ended up with his weeping cock against your bare ass.

“Think you can take me?" he asks quietly, low and possessed. "Just like this, hm? Without my fingers getting you ready?"

You nod feebly against the wall, because you're not really sure if you can, especially since it's been awhile. But you're his girl, and you are always eager to please him. Eager to part your legs and open up for him without warning, no matter how much of a tight fit it may be at first.

He's wearing that hard skull mask of his and you feel it press against the back of your head, his warm breath in your ear as he rubs his cock against you. Everything is already slick and hot to the touch; he groans so hoarsely that you feel his chest vibrate against you.

Simon eases himself inside you and tightens his fist in your hair when he's met with resistance. "Relax for me," he orders in your ear. But you're feeling a bit overwhelmed by the thick, deep press of him.

It's not until his hands move under your oversized shirt that you feel yourself open up some more for him.

His hands are always explorative, but this time, he fixates them on your stomach as he finally manages to fit all of himself inside you. You feel stretched and sore, but his rough touch cupping your stomach and his encouraging words in your ear ease the discomfort until you feel your cunt lengthen enough to accommodate him.

"Good," he swallows, beginning to move. "That's... that's good. Feel you openin' up. I know it's been awhile, pet."

As you relax a bit, he's able to move faster. Keeping his hands on your stomach to hold you steady against his firm body, the draw of his hips languid and strong and desperate.

He's not in his right mind.

You do this to him. Make him think about things he shouldn't, like how soft and warm the skin of your stomach feels under his splayed palms. He cups and touches and rubs it, possessively, and you might have wondered what had him so obsessed with it this time more than any time before. But you're too busy whining and whimpering. Your hands pressed against the wall to absorb each powerful movement that he rocks into you.

"Simon," you manage to say.

"I've saved it all for ya," he grits out. "All my fuckin' cum. Didn't want to waste it in my hand. Wanted to... wanted to fill you up right when I got home."

"Yes, baby. Fill me up," you coax him and subconsciously jerk your hips back to meet his movements, inviting the head of him right to your cervix. It's a satisfying spot that needs attention, nestled deep inside you, and you moan out loud each time he fucks into it.

You notice his thrusts get sloppy and the sounds he makes indicate that he's close. So close... so fucking close because it's been so long, but also because Simon is deliriously rubbing your stomach and now your breasts, too, and there's something in him, something animalistic, that imagines really filling you up. Filling you up with his seed so it takes, stretches out your soft stomach, and fills your breasts with milk. You'd be marked with him in the most primal, noticeable way, and he doesn't know how or why this urge has overcome him.

He's not in control of what he's saying when he grabs your breasts and chokes out, "Gonna put a baby in you."

It's a shocking thing to hear.

But your cunt grows impossibly slicker and his words earn him a tight hug from your walls.

"That's right," he lifts up his mask just so he can bite at your shoulder. Encouraged by the clenching of your cunt, he continues. "You would like that, wouldn't ya? Letting me breed your pretty cunt?"

Breathless, wide-eyed, and about to cum, you nod and cry out, "Yes... Yes, I would like that. Give me... your baby, Simon."

It's all he needs to hear to flood your cunt with his pent-up cum, which he had saved just for this. And as he finishes in you, chest heaving and his hands still feeling over your stomach and breasts, Simon can't help but imagine that you're not on the pill this time. That his cum might really take hold. That even when he's gone, there will be evidence of him right underneath your shirt.

It's a scary (but very real) thought that he is left with even after his cock slips from you and all the cum drips down on the floor.

[lunarfleur]

Earth 42! Miles Morales Datings Hcs

Tagging: @juneberrie @sluggmuffin

Warnings:Mentions of his job as the prowler

A/N: I’m literally in love with him help

This is x gender neutral reader!

This boy is not your sugar daddy. Be fr.

Does he have extra cash? Yeah.

But he’s not your sugar daddy. That is a child.

He’s honestly not that different from Earth 1610! Miles, he’s just been through a lot more shit

He’s still a dork, deep down.

But let’s get the inevitabilities out of the way

Spanish nicknames, for sure. I don’t speak Spanish, but it’d just be the ones everyone in the community thinks he would use 😭

As well as baby and babe.

This boy is a hugger in every universe

He would never openly say, “I need a hug.” But, he’d pull you in or bury his face in your neck

It gets the point across

I think for both versions of Miles, he keeps his room clean for you

His mom always gets on him for it, so it’s just habit to have his room clean

Picking up any and all dirty clothes, vacuuming, dusting, that kind of thing.

It’s typically clean anyways, but he makes sure it’s as clean as possible for you

Movie nights whenever he doesn’t get called into work. You’re tucked against him. One arm is around your shoulder, the other hand is rested comfortably on your thigh.

This boy loves loves loves forehead kisses, both giving and receiving

A lot of times he gives them as apologies

He couldn’t make a date, so he’s kissing your forehead after kissing your lips and apologizing so so genuinely

But you give him one? He’s dying.

You’re in his lap, and you just *mwah?*

He’s a goner

Let’s be honest, he’s young and in love. You make him excited.

Make out sessions are both common and enjoyable

He knows not to take too far, of course, but he can’t help but love on you

But make outs are never for public

He’s not ashamed of PDA, but he doesn’t think anyone else should see something so intimate.

But he’ll kiss you, hold your hand, leave his arm around your shoulders, and basically all the other toned down displays of affection

The only people that are afraid of him are the ones who have caused problems with him

He’s lived in New York all his life. A lot of kids know him. A lot of kids know that he just changed after he lost his dad

The ignorant ones start fights with him. The ignorant ones lose fights with him.

Because this boy can scrap

He’s not really some big, bad bully who runs his school or whatever

He sticks to being a loner, with the exception of you.

He still maintains good grades and behavior and all that

He doesn’t really get in trouble for fighting because he’s never the one who starts it

It’s self defense, you know?

There’s only 3 people in his life that he genuinely cares about: You, his mom, and his uncle.

Of course, he wants you to meet them

So he brings you home one day

And, luckily for you, they’re both easy to get along with

But he’s okay with not meeting your family

If you don’t want him to, he doesn’t have to

Fights with him go one of two ways, depending on the severity of the situation.

A:It’s a very serious, tense discussion. He doesn’t put any distance between you two, maybe holding your hand or keeping his knee touching yours. He speaks carefully and he listens to you.

This Miles doesn’t yell. Not at you, not at his mom, basically never.

B: You two give each other space. He makes sure you’re home safely, leaving you with a kiss on the forehead, before giving both of you time to calm down and think everything over.

And then once you two are ready, you talk things over and he apologizes. This leads to soft make outs and/or cuddles.

But we all know he’s The Prowler

He’s not a villain, necessarily. He doesn’t kill people for the fun of it. He kills people who deserve it. Criminals, people who have genuinely hurt others.

He didn’t wait too long to tell you, actually.

It was only a month or two.

He liked you, genuinely, and it shocked him to his core. He knew his job would put distance between you two. He didn’t want that. Miles wanted things with you to go right.

He told you cautiously, and made sure to explain what he did and why.

It made sense, it really did. And he made sure to keep you away from it all.

It was hard to handle at first, but eventually you came to terms with it.

He was honestly terrified that you’d be scared of him. He’s still a kid, remember.

Sometimes, he gets called in and can’t make a date.

But Miles hates it and makes damn good sure he makes it up to you

He keeps tabs of everything he’s missed

He’s a sweetheart, honestly.

He gives you things, like gifts and his clothes and full access to his room

And he’s always making sure you’re in the best of moods

You’re crying? He’s doing everything he can to fix it.

Miles isn’t a bad boyfriend, it just takes some time to understand him.

[hereforthehitsbaby]

Silver Lining | DP&W!Logan Howlett x F!Reader

Synopsis: Logan was too familiar with depressive episodes, spending years stuck in his own. He never wanted you to feel the way he did, he wanted to take your pain away. 

Warnings: ANGST, like no joke this is just straight up angst/whump with a somewhat happy ending, not character angst but reader angst – or at least that is what I think it would classify as?, mentions of mania, mentions of mental illness, reader screams at everyone and tries hard to make people hate her because she thinks she deserves it, mentions of depression, reader has a depressive episode, crying, self-doubt, mentions of unavailing oneself, language,

Rating: M

Word Count: 3.9K

Author’s Note: You know, at times when there are things you cannot tell anyone about, you write. This happened to be that moment for me. Also I know I said this was going to be angsty but I don't think I did the angst justice enough. I'm not used to writing it so I apologize if it's not full blown whump.

Tagging(?): @battermyheart @plagued-kitty @cxrrodedcoffin @babygorewhore @strangererotica

Hugh Jackman Taglist Sign Up

“I fucking hate you, leave me alone!” You scream at your apartment door, hearing Wade on the other end banging harder. You didn’t mean any of the words, you wanted to take them all back, you wanted to say you’re sorry and move on. Your hands reach out to tangle in your hair, pulling roughly at the root. Growls of agony and pain tear from your throat as you drop to your knees on the plush carpet, rocking back and forth. “Let me go, please let me go!” None of your words made sense, they felt foreign on your tongue as the pounding got louder, as the screams turned sour. The world faded to black as your head hit the carpet, your throat raw – straining against your sorrows. Footsteps echoed like snow on a winter’s night; The silence was not comforting. Bloodied fists fell beside your face, and Laura’s soft words lulled you to sleep. “We will be here when you’re ready. Please, take care of yourself.”

No one expected that a day full of laughing and bonding would take a hard left turn. No one knew what hid beneath your surface, they never realized how bad it was getting. All they saw was smiles and sunshine radiating off of you, never knowing they were caused by pain. You thought you were getting better, that you weren’t faking it this time – unfortunately your brain never got the memo. None of your words held any meaning; You knew that but you were worried your friends might not. Then again, day one you did tell Wade to not get attached – that was for his own sake when one day you were no longer here. It was an unspoken song in your head – it never rang true but certain times felt like it would, that it may.

Peter’s party was supposed to be fun, celebrating his anniversary of a year with B-15. A full day planned by Wade and Laura. Logan and you were made to keep them both busy for a while, while Al complained about the constant smell of latex balloons. A day you had been looking forward to for weeks; Spending time with Logan while also not feeling pressured into anything. Wade’s constant comments about you two shacking up held some tension between the two of you, sometimes making it awkward to even say hi to him. But this was supposed to be a turning point for the best, the manic episodes a thing of the past. You were finally healing, so you thought. Alas nothing stays the same forever; A little chaos thrown into a beautiful painting can sometimes turn the colors muddy.

Thirteen days it has been since you left your apartment, almost a full two weeks since you spoke to anyone. Text messages gone unanswered, calls gone silent. Knocks at the door becoming few and far in between as the days grew longer. The care packages dwindling down to one every other day than ever four hours. They did care, it wasn’t a bullshit excuse your mind made up, deep down you fucking knew and yet? It didn’t feel right. It was foreign of a concept; A group of people looking out for you because they care. You had been in with every wrong group possible that it ruined any singular chance of trusting their actions. Happy endings were not in your card, so you had convinced yourself. Episodes like this became your only friend, constantly reliving the worst moments over and over until you couldn’t cry anymore. The utter pain on Wade’s face as he cried for you, as Laura tried to help you, as Al reassured you, as Logan held you, were too much to constantly see. The distance was necessary. But never, never would they give up on you.

Over the last two weeks Wade has come by and sat outside your door, recounting missions and how they went to reading the newest Booktok craze in graphic detail, never spearing a moment to see if he could hear you laugh. Instead all he heard was sobs, self-hatred, and pain. It gave you the time to process your rage, to understand it cannot be pointed towards others who were only trying to help, to figure out a way to explain how sorry you are. But you never needed to, because Logan did – and they made sure they let you know. Out of everyone, Logan was rooting for you the most. Looking out for you, making sure no one came to disturb you when he heard your wails of sorrow, letting you feel rather than cause any discomfort. It killed him silently to hear you like this, not to be able to hold you through it, he wanted to do so much more.

Every text that you stomached to read from Logan was always reassuring, never condescending or jokey. Between small quotes he heard over his life of resilience to funny memes he stole from Wade, he was your cheerleader in every way. It helped you to know, even if you didn’t respond. It gave you the confidence to finally get up and take a deep breath, to understand what you were going to say. That was your plan for today and nothing was going to stop you. As soon as you realized in the early afternoon, you spent the rest of the time cleaning up your apartment, taking a shower, and getting your best comfy clothes on to have a sit down chat with everyone. It felt like everything was going to be okay – you felt like you had control over your emotions; This time it would be easy to convey what sparked your episode. Taking a deep breath you opened your apartment door as walked across the hall to Wade’s, keeping your hand steady as you knocked.

The controlled, hard thuds rang through your wrist as you heard a groan come from the other side, inaudible mumbles coming from Althea. A small smirk played across your lips as you heard her rambles, knowing how feisty the older woman is. The door to Wade’s apartment opened quickly as she stood facing you. Seeing Al after a few weeks of going MIA made your throat dry up, only hearing her words of reassurance as you had a breakdown. Instead of speaking you stared at the woman, fingers slightly trembling. Al let out a sad breath, her shoulders slumping slightly. ‘Oh honey, come on in.” How she knew that it was you wasn’t even a question in your mind, just her gentle nature of feeling you made your eyes misty. Al left a decent gap between her and the door as you crossed over the threshold, staring into the comfortable space.

You could tell that Wade and Laura weren’t around, considering how the pull-out mattress wasn’t out still and Wade’s door was wide open. But you knew he was here. As Al closed the door behind the two of you, the third door of the right opened quickly, the wood creaking against the hinges. Standing in the doorway with warm eyes and a stoic stance was Logan, staring at you like he was in disbelief. He didn’t move, he didn’t blink, instead he kept his eyes on your face. Your hair was tucked behind your ears and away from your features; Logan’s eyes trailed over each part with a soft smile on his lips, relief coursing through his veins. “How are you doing?” he asked calmly, not moving a muscle as he gauged your response. The tranquil state you were previously in started to crumble at those four words, your eyes growing tight and blurry as you stared into Logan’s hazel eyes. Your fingers began to shake as your heart raced, a sob threatening to tear from your throat without warning. All you could do was shake your head at Logan’s question, blinking your tears away. Without a thought, you moved fast into Logan as you wrapped your arms around him, pressing your face into his flannel. Everything you had been holding onto for two weeks was already coming out; The dame officially breaking as he held you. “I got you, sshh – you’re okay,” Logan responded as he rubbed your back, tightening his hold on you as you cried.

Logan slowly shuffled you backwards into his bedroom, letting the heavy door shut on its own as he held you the entire way. Due to how lost you were in his sweet embrace, you didn’t realize that you were now in Logan’s room or better yet, laying with him on his bed. Positioning you to face him, Logan never let you go as he pulled you close to him, letting your face press into his neck as he pulled the comforter over the two of you. Short, sweet hums left his lips as he rested his cheek against the top of your head, letting your subconsciously link his thick legs with yours. “I’m proud of you for coming over, you know that?” Those words warmed your chest as you felt your body shiver, the praise meaning everything to you. Pushing your face deeper against the crook of Logan’s neck, you belted out a wail as you gripped his shirt, just knowing it was starting to soak with the runoff of your tears. You shook your head against his chest, slightly digging your nails through his shirt.

Over the last year you watched Logan transform from gruff and rugged emotionally to happy and prideful. Though that hardened shell of his would never leave, he seemed to be a lot lighter mentally. After he became the new anchor being, new resident of Earth-10005, and the new friend of Wade, which all still was confusing to your human brain, he realized that life was so much more than reliving your past – and learning to move forward from it. It was a slow journey for him but, he found solace in the understanding and knowing. Which is why he didn’t hesitate to grab you and pull you close, knowing this only mirrored what you did for him all those months ago. Being on the receiving end of it felt bizarre for you, but it felt like home. You didn’t want to believe it, but it was true. “You shouldn’t,” a low whispered escaped through your sob as Logan trailed his fingers over your back, drawing small shapes against your hoodie.

“But I am, it’s a big first step.” It was true in a way, the first step was always the acknowledgement. Just leaving your apartment was a great first attempt, and now you were really making strides. “We love you so much, I love you, sweetheart.” Hearing Logan say that caused your heart to clench; The game of cat and mouse of feelings you two have been ping-ponging over the last year reached its peak quickly during this whole time, realizing you two were in silent cahoots – there never needed to be a talk about labels when it happened to naturally. Neither one of you would admit it but, you were together way before any of this went down. Swallowing down the smartass retort wanting to slip off your tongue, you sank your nails a bit deeper into his shirt, feeling his hiss come out. “Don’t say shit you don’t mean, Lo. Do you know how to love?”

You hated yourself for those words, knowing you didn’t mean it but let it go anyways. A typical defense tactic to push people away. Logan knew it too which is why he never responded, only snickered at your persistence. He knew exactly how you would react, knowing from your past conversations about your previous episodes. Running his beard across the side of your cheek, Logan nodded against your face as he spoke, “I love Wade. I love Laura. I love Al. And most importantly, I love you.” Hearing him say again that he loved you should’ve been one of the happiest moments, knowing you both were making great strides in your relationship, yet it left a burning hole of lies in your chest. You scoff at Logan’s declaration, a fresh wave of warm tears cascading down your cheeks as you push your face further into his burly chest. You tried so hard to mask your cry with a cough but, Logan knew better. The words holding their true meaning, the truth snaking its way through your brain. Shaking your head against his pecs, you inhale a deeply, smelling his shower gel and natural musk flooding your nose. “You don’t love me, you barely know me.”

Logan smiles softly above you, trying not to roll his eyes at your clear avoidance of the talk you were about to have. He found your stubbornness endearing, seeing a bit of himself within you. He was the same way after all, never acknowledging or wanting to accept but always question, always avoid. Hiding and not accepting the truth was easier than healing at times. Logan placed his lips to the top of your head as he kisses it gently, rubbing his large hand up and down your back. He never let his lips pull back your head as you let out his words, wanting the warmth of his breath to sink in, hoping that would help you to understand the truth over the lies your mind was telling. “Then give me a chance to.” It slipped out between his lips so naturally you had no time to adjust, hitting you like a ton of bricks.

You stop in the moment; Your breathing, your crying, your whole body. Logan’s words sank deep within your soul, causing a bloom of emotion to burst within your chest. The truth was burning your nerves one by one, every fiber alight and refusing to be put out with your self-doubt. Every stage of grief you could possibly feel ran through your with cold fingers, awakening you for what felt like centuries. Trembling hands grip tighter at his flannel tighter, pulling him close and pushing him away at the same time. Your brows furrow as you scan the darkness within, trying to find a reason why he shouldn’t. All you could find was positive after positive with Logan, remembering how he tried to do the same to you and you refused to give up on him. Now it was your turn, but stepping into the unknown scared you more than anything else. Opening yourself up to him, was terrifying. “Don’t push me away, please.” Logan whispered into your hairline, feeling his own soul hurt for you. 

“That’s all I know how to do.” It wasn’t a lie persay, but it wasn’t the whole truth. You never pushed away the gang, not ever. Anytime you were mildly upset you made sure to be with them, and they stayed with you through it all. Even the times you got annoyed with them, you never gave up on that friendship. You knew deep down you’d never push them away, in fact it was funny to you how you even thought that. As Wade had one said, we are like herpes – we never leave, sweet cheeks. “Let me help you break that cycle.” You wanted to believe Logan, trust his words and actions of the man you love. But it was fear inducing to do so, because every what if made its way out of the wood works, chiming in their two cents. What if he leaves you? What if he moves on? What if he is saying this just to make you happy? What if he doesn’t mean it? What if he just feels sorry for you?

The offer to help you break the cycle was what set you off, tearing yourself away from Logan. Sitting up roughly on his bed, you bunched the comforter down at your hips, placing your head in your hands. The fresh wave of tears was threatening to spill over as you shook your head, your knees trembling with every inhale. “What if it can’t be broken, Logan?” You pan your eyes up at him, your bottom lip quivering. “What if that’s all I’m ever going to be destined for? Healing others while I hurt myself. I don’t know if I can be fixed, or changed or-“ Logan abruptly stopped your spiel as he reached for you, holding your face within his hands. The gentle flecks of golds and emeralds swimming in his irises caused your heart to flutter, his natural beauty causing your cheeks to warm. He stared at you like a man in love, needing you to know just how precious you are.

“I said the same thing about myself, for fucking years. I refused to believe I could be happy, in a better place mentally, I didn’t want to be happy. I wanted to hurt, knowing what I did to cause pain to others. I believed I deserved it. Not a day goes by where I sometimes slip into my old routine. But I remember that people do appreciate me, they do love me - even if I don’t want to believe it.” You noticed how Logan wasn’t aware he was crying with you, his tears slowly falling from the inner corner of his eyes as he spoke. The hold he had on your face growing harder, not in a painful way but in a comforting one. Every word he spoke he wanted to sink in, to show you if it wasn’t the end for him – it wasn’t for you either. “But-“ you chimed, trying to find a reasoning but coming up short. “No buts, just feel. What do you want, sweetheart?”

The question held a lot of meaning, a lot of endless possibilities that you weren’t able to explore in your lifetime. For the first time in so long, you felt like you finally had a choice over your own decisions, not your mental health. The way you stared at Logan, with admiration and hesitance caused his heart rate to speed up, his palms growing clammy at what you may say. He could smell your fear, hear your heart pumping at an abnormal rate. Placing his wide palm against your calf, he rubbed over your leggings with languid strokes, helping to coax your answer out. The feelings finally setting in, everything hitting its peak, knowing you were not going to be hitting rock bottom again. “I want to be happy.” It didn’t sound real coming from your mouth, foreign against your tongue as Logan painted his face with a slow smile, admiring your strength and truth to wanting to be happy, instead of staying in that darkened space.

“Louder, darlin.” Logan coaxed with a gentle smile, pressing his lips to your temple as he took a deep inhale. He liked to believe that was his way of ridding you of this pain, inhaling it so he could hold onto it – so you could feel at peace. A small grin made its way upon your lips as you closed your eyes, sinking into his touch deeper. His arms came to hold you against his chest, peppering kisses along the left side of your face as you exhaled. “I want to be happy, Logan.” This time it felt real, felt right coming from you. Your tears dried up quickly, the sticky residue still on your cheeks as you started to get back on your metaphorical feet. His kisses caused your stomach to burn with love and passion. Grabbing at his right hand, you pulled it to your lips as you kissed over where his claws would come out, showing him how even something so deadly deserves care.

“Give yourself permission to.” Logan smiles genuinely as he cups your cheek, running the pad of his thumb over your skin. Reveling in his touch was the only thing you could do, watching him with hearts in your eyes as you smiled. Having someone like Logan be so patient with you, caring for you like no one before has, made you feel safe. It made you feel like things were really going to get better, and now they were. He was right, you needed to give yourself over to your own happiness, and welcome it in. It was a scary thing to adjust to but, you deserved it. The torment you had been putting yourself through, dealing with crisis after crisis and believing every mean word to be true, you deserved this much needed break and acceptance. Logan pressed his forehead against yours as he closed his eyes, wanting you to take in every word deep within your soul. “I’ll be with you, every step of the way. I won’t give up on you.” 

That was all you needed for the tears to start again, this time though – they were different. They were sweet this time around, not sour and hateful like earlier. This time they were cool to the touch, not scalding hot. Hearing the love of your life say that, meant the world was healing. You were silently giving yourself over to Logan fully, letting him help you instead of shutting him out. Welcoming him in during your time of need was what the world gave you, and you were never going to take it for granted. Sighing out into his touch, you sniffed back a few tears as you cleared your throat, knowing another cry would slip out sooner. “No one’s ever told me that.”

It broke Logan’s heart to hear that, knowing people gave up on you too easily during your time of need. He couldn’t bear the thought of you alone in the world, dealing with the demons on your own; He needed you to know he would make sure you never fell down that path again. Leaning into you, Logan pressed his plush lips against yours, letting the slow hum of the central air drown out the loud voices in his mind. Just like that the world stood still, in this moment it was just you and Logan – no one else, no other thing. Time stopped to let you both take this all in, to realize two souls were converging into one, and the path ahead was twisting together for the two of you. The soft nature of the kiss felt like it could heal all of your wounds, and deep down you believed that it did. Logan was stitching together every slice in your being, healing those jagged scars, stitching your soul into one again. “Good thing I’m not no one,” Logan smiled against your lips, stealing a few sweet kisses as he nudging his nose to yours, making you look up at him. “I’m someone to you.”

[sunnydayjackass]

Hi can I get jack comforting his so after they found out they were lied to about why their hours were cut? (Sorry if this isn't something you're comfortable answering. I'm just really angry about my hours being cut and then LIED about why)

I'm sorry I'm getting to this so infinitely late, as someone who got their hours cut so hard they had to get a new job (resulting in my absence amongst other fucked things) I feel you and hope these bring comfort and that things have gotten better since you sent this.

Cause look, hours being cut is shitty- that's an absolute given. And Jack's immediate response is to provide comfort and reassurance that "It'll get better, sunshine. It's only temporary, I'm sure." But low-key he's probably glad to have more time with you to himself. Until he sees the stress this puts you under. Unfortunately, Jack can't pay your bills, stock your fridge, keep the utilities on, ect. And it's those tangible things that drive him up the wall that he can't help that make him double down even harder onto doting on you and spoiling you with affections. Which is well and good, the comfort is nice for a while and his encouragement can help.

But you're still stressed.

And then, you're angry because you were lied to about it. Maybe you were told that "they just didn't have the hours to give" "things are tight right now" or whatever generic bullshit higher ups like to give. But you find out from a coworker that they've been working doubles, or someone reaches out to you because they desperately need a day off to get something done, whatever.

And like work place gossip is want to do, when you clock in for one of those shifts, someone tells you the real reason why you've been cut so hard.

And when they tell you, they tell Jack. Because when isn't he over your shoulder or attached to your hip? Not that they know. But y'all know.

And you're furious. Rightfully so. That someone could be so petty as to fuck with your money. Your livelihood. Especially after Ian up and left you to shoulder everything on your own. But where you're left to silently seethe, bite your tongue, and put on a fake smile to work even harder in the hopes that maybe they'll "award" you with more hours so your water isn't shut off...

Jack is oddly silent. Absent after you hear the news. Which, maybe that's not the worst thing because maybe he's been a bit of a distraction. So you don't think too much of it at the time, you have to focus up. So while you're toiling away, Jack is floating through the workplace. Looking for the name tag of the superior who was fucking with you, who stressed you out to tears, who made you so angry; he could feel it radiating off of you. And that simply won't do. Jack can't have that and won't stand for it.

It's in the evenings, when you're already fast asleep; either so worn out from scraping up what extra you can at work from your coworkers to busting ass on your actual shifts, or simply just so stressed you need rest- that Jack does what he feels is retribution.

He's heavy handed, we all know what Jack did to Nick and that was for asking you out. Someone who fucked with you to the point you were so upset? Shit. Said superior is mentioned in the news, for either losing their shit completely or dying in a particularly gruesome self inflicted way. It's a bit of a long game, at first it's to get your hours back up to where they need to be. And lastly, it's a lesson- even if the victim doesn't know it, to never fuck with Jack's precious sunshine. He'd do anything for you and while maybe he can't provide, he can certainly remove obstacles. Not that he tells you, no.

Jack is back every morning or incredibly late, plenty of time to curl his large form around you and hold you close. Whispering to you that he's taken care of the problem, he's taking care of you, how he adores you ever so much, and that you deserve the world.

Gossip and rumors swirl about, and while it's awful what happened, this new manager seems far more amenable to what you need in hours and scheduling. So you're back where you need to be, where needs are being met, bills are being paid, Jack is happy that you're happy-thats all he wants for you, sunshine.

Just make sure you don't take too much overtime, he might feel neglected❤️

[thesparklingwriter]

to be loved by a dragon

tags: fem!reader, implied smut?, we all know what's going on (they r at it‼️), starts wholesome and then takes a sharp turn to the left, mentions of degradation, after care, is this self-indulgent? yes. do i care? no.

word count: 0.2k

taglist | masterlist

Zhongli, who almost can’t believe that it’s you he gets to be with, who sees the looks you get as you walk through Liyue harbour and relishes in the way others admire you—regardless of how many times you tell him how perfect he is to you.

Zhongli, who watches you carefully, watching to see what you like and don’t like, to squirrel it away in a safe corner of his mind and commit to his memory—even though you’ve told him time and time again that he needn’t worry about it.

Zhongli, who rarely ever speaks to you without punctuating his sentence with a sweet name for you, a reminder to you of how much he loves and cherished you and every second he gets with you

Zhongli, who wouldn’t dream of speaking to you the way you ask him to, who questions why someone as perfect as you would want to hear such harsh words, especially from someone who loves you so dearly—despite the fact you’ve begged him to do so more times than you can count on your fingers.

Zhongli, who has his mind fine tuned to every sound you make, who silently matches his movements to your quiet whimpers, gently pushing your hair back from your face as he captures your mouth in a gentle kiss.

Zhongli, whose hips stutter when you look up at him with such love and unadulterated affection, because he doesn't believe he deserves to be looked at like that, and certainly not by you.

Zhongli, who treats you like a princess, running you a bath and brushing your hair as he quietly tells you the stories that he knows you love so dearly, and smiles blissfully when you later return the favour.

Zhongli, who doesn’t believe he’s deserving of a love as pure as yours, but spends every day proving to you that he won’t make you regret it.

© 2023, thesparklingwriter. please do not copy, edit, repost, or translate.

notes: drops this, runs away, buries her face in her pillow and questions all her life decisions up to this point, its not even proofread cause i can't bear to do it, no taglist because i don't plan to make a habit of this :3

[not-goldy]

it’s no wonder Baekhyun's kfans are this deranged. he feeds into their delusions and he’s not even subtle about it. you get the fans you deserve. Him and Jungkook are the same. They sell parasocial relationships hard and it's gonna bite them in their ass one day. Weird cause these two have the talent in both singing and dancing, can't y'all just sell music instead.

I saw this comment under a pannchao post and most kpop fans and army agree to it. This is why I don't feel anything when JK is dragged through mud for some dating rumors. He's the one who fuels gf×bf dynamics with his fans, he's the one who deny having partner and only having army as his gf, he's the one who goes overboard with fanservice while other idols nor bts members does the same even if they do the same job as him, so obviously he's gonna get the fruit of it 🤷‍♀️ Do he think he can fool the f out of his fans and then have a peaceful dating life ? Either you draw clear borders with fans or you don't date.. as simple as that. It's even funnier when whole world can see what's happening while there's shippers who thinks he's dating his bandmate😭 even delulu than y/ns. I don't think anyone with self respect can be in a commited relationship with JK when all he does is sex chatting with his fans in lives and satisfy their Para social bf needs. And i think Jimin has more than enough self respect to be with a person like him.

I nearly agreed with you until you name dropped Jungkook.

I agree in part because I hate the fact these straight idols hide their Relationships when they have the privilege of dating openly without being persecuted unlike queer couples.

But leave Jungkook out of this please.

cos this same Jungkook is the one who nearly threw a fist when Armies would call him baby. Same person who squares up with his fans when they tell him they don't like content he puts out on live. He just shrugs and says well I like it.

Same Jungkook who got a tattoo and keeps adding to it knowing his fans hate it, not only that he also got pierced against their will and when he was told they hated long hair he went ahead and grew it out.

While you're out here claiming he panders to his fans there are several ex Jungkook stans who hate him because they claim he is a shitty idol who only does what he likes and doesn't care what his fans like.

Same person who was told by his members he had to post for each members birthdays because the fans were not happy he wasn't yet he didn't post any way.

Same person who's life motto is that he'd rather be dead than cool.

How do you reconcile these two things???

Same person who went to Itaewon during lockdown and wouldn't apologize because "IT WAS HIS PERSONAL LIFE" had it not been the fact others had died from covid and the sensitive nature of the issue he wouldn't have apologized at all.

He can't be tagged a carefree rebellious nonconformist idol while also seen as a fan-ass-kisser at the same time. Yall would have to choose a narrative and stick with it.

Personally I believe him when he says anything.

If he doesn't have a girlfriend it's because HE DON'T HAVE A GIRLFRIEND. yall jx not willing to stomach the fact. You are just like Tuktukkers istg.

Out of all BTS the one person who wouldn't give a flying fuck fans reaction when he's in a relationship IS JUNGKOOK. YALL WILL NOT MAKE HIM APOLOGIZE FOR LIKING WHAT OR WHO HE LIKES.

Even in our ship narratives we have this running theory that dudes always on the edge of the glass ceiling ready to shatter it to pieces but for consideration of Jimin. Even with that, every now and then he outs the dude.

He could have covered his bite marks or lied about it being an insect bite or pimle but dude just said naa that was Jimin. He be in my neck most times.

So we jokers see Jungkook waaaay differently from how yall see him. He is a complex living being not a one dimensional creature like you paint him out to be.

Fan service is part of Kpop. ALL IDOLS ENGAGE IN FAN SERVICE TO VARYING DEGREES. he's not the devil for doing fan service and while you think he doesn't have a sense of boundaries with it HE DOES. ITS JUST NOT THE BOUNDARIES YOU WISH HE HAD. SAY THAT AND GO.

ALL IDOLS TREAT THEIR FANS AS THEIR GFS AND BFS. ITS THE MONEY BLUE PRINT. ITS THEIR MARKETING STRATEGY.

AND YES, SINCE PORTRAYING THEMSELVES AS A AVAILABLE AND DOTTING ON FANS IS HOW THEY KEEP THE LOYALTY OF THEIR FANS THEY WOULD OBVIOUSLY LIE ABOUT THEIR DATING LIFE. I WOULD TOO IF I WERE AN IDOL.

But that doesn't mean whenever they say they are single its a lie💀💀💀💀💀💀

They are not always in a relationship.

That doesn't also mean they are all afraid to admit the truth about their relationship status. It depends on their age, how long they've been an idol and the level of success they've attained. A new idol on the scene obviously would be committing career suicide while a veteran couldn't give a fuck.

So when you talk of young Kook starting out his career I'd understand. He was subject to the control of his company and had to deny his relationships because at that stage he'd be risking much. But this Jungkook don't care I promise you. HE DON'T CARE BOUT YALLS FEELINGS ESPECIALLY AS HIS FANS ARE GROWING WITH HIM AND ARE AT THE SAME AGE AS HIM.

Also, some idols JUST don't CARE and would readily admit it if the person they are with is the one AND THEY LOVE THEM. you seem to forget that part.

It makes no sense to claim a partner and risk your whole career for a fling or someone you don't like like that can you be for real for once in your life?

Wait- ever think about that?

Normal people do this too. What's the expression, don't let your boyfriend stop you from finding your husband or wife 🤭

We deny relationships all the time if we aren't serious about the people we are with. Or if we aren't sure where we stand with the person.

It doesn't make us evil and idols are just like us. Not every single person they messing around with is WORTH CLAIMING at all.

Which is what I've been saying for years, that if an idol is denying a relationship its usually because that relationship, fling or whatever isn't worth them claiming or risking their careers for.

If they are with someone they truly loved and revered denying them would be the last and the hardest thing they'll do and eventually theyll stop apologing for it, they grow out of their concerns for their careers, become mature and own up to it.

I keep telling my ladies, if a man keeps hiding you, if a man refuses to post you on his socials HE DOESN'T LIKE YOU LIKE THAT AND YOU'RE PROBABLY A SIDE PIECE TO HIS SIDE PIECE. DROP THE DUSTIE, LOVE YOURSELVES AND BREAK UP WITH HIM PRONTO.

Yall are mad these idols aren't claiming the imaginary girlfriends you want them to have.

Yall mad they aren't claiming the insignificant placeholders in their beds 🤣

Like leave them alone.

If the coochie is worth fighting for someone like Jungkook WILL NOT HESITATE TO PUT UP A FIGHT. IVE SEEN HIM RISK A LOT MORE FOR A MAN YALL CLAIM IS HIS FATHER- OR WAS IT MOTHER😵

SURELY HE SHOULD HAVE NO QUALMS FIGHTING FOR YALLS QUEENS IF HE'S WITH EM🤭

[pictureinme]

pls do switch!kitten x switch!reader fic with cunnilingus + body worship !!

thank u so much for ur request and patience !! i decided to have more emphasis on the reader's body getting worshiped teehee (also peep both me & jd doing shit like this tonite lol)

you've got a woman

patricia ‘kitten’ braden x f!reader word count: 1.8k tags: self-image issues, sad reader, established relationship, body worship, 69 (cunnilingus, anilingus), hand-job, vaginal fingering

(ao3)

“You ready, love?”

Kitten’s voice from behind you caused a tentative smile to grow upon your face, and make a noise that could be understood as either affirmation or otherwise.

Biting your lip, you looked at your state of readiness. Still in your pajamas with unbrushed locks, you sigh gently. She enters the bathroom where you’re currently debating, and huffs.

“Darling, you haven’t done a thing!” Her eyes squint at your appearance, not in disdain, but concern. “Did you still want to go dancing tonight?”

You shrug your shoulders, “I don’t… seem to feel like myself today, love.”

Kitten sits you down on the toilet seat, and kneels in front of you, worry muddying her features, “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

Feeling tears prick at your eyes, you shrug again. She holds your hand gently, tracing soothing motions into it with her thumb, and a tear falls.

“Honey, you can tell me anything,” she wipes the tear away with her other hand, “Come to bed with me.”

Leaning up together, Kitten guides you slowly to your shared bedroom. The two of you sit on your green duvet, and the tears don’t stop.

“I don’t feel like I deserve to be with someone like you.”

“Don’t say such things,” she looks to you rather sternly, “You deserve me just as much as I deserve you. Can’t you see that?”

“I worry whenever…” You pause, knowing how silly you sound, “Whenever we go out, you’ll find someone prettier or smarter or just plain better than I am.”

“You’re a fool, (Y/N),” Kitten's blue gaze bores holes into you, and it’s hard for you to meet it. "There's no one out there better for me than you."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I just am," she places her hand on your thigh, and squeezes, "You're perfect in every single way. The way you always pick me up from work with a kiss and a bag of chips, the way you give me massages when the clients are just too demanding… the way you take care of me."

Leaning on her shoulder, you whisper, “Too good to me…”

Kitten kisses your forehead, her liberally applied perfume permeating your senses, “You deserve goodness. It isn't only the things you do for me, you know. That isn't all you are.”

With her hand still holding onto your thigh, and your lips so close to her neck, you couldn’t help but leave a delicate kiss. Humming in contentment, she cranes her neck so you can kiss her more.

“I adore how your eyes sparkle when you see a puppy on the street, and how your voice goes all cutesy when you talk to them. I especially love the days we skip on plans and just… love each other.”

Leaving little nips and bites in your wake, you couldn’t help but feel like a weight was being lifted off your shoulders by doing so. You feel her hand move up your thigh, almost petting it. 

“Let me take care of you, hm?” Kitten whispers, “Want to show you just how much you deserve… just how pretty you are.”

Hesitantly, you separate from her neck to nod. As much as you loved taking care of her, if she wanted to take care of you, who are you to argue? Your eyes were still wet with tears, and she knew just how much love you really needed.

Her soft smile eases your worries about her possibly pitying you, and she closes the gap between you two with her lips. It was slow and sweet, and you could practically taste every emotion she was experiencing– love, sadness, gratefulness… desire.

You stop to take a breath, and her eyes are gazing at your lips still, “I love you, Kitten baby.”

“I love you more than anything, sweet (Y/N). Lay down for me, hm?"

Obeying her gentle order, Kitten crawls on top of you, reaching to unbutton your pajama top. You swallow nervously, and she kisses your cheek, “Don’t fret, love. I’ll take care of you.”

Kitten opens your shirt, and kisses at your uncovered chest. Her touch was so gentle and soft, you felt as if you were going to cry again. She licked your nipples gently, lapping them until they were hard for her.

Her ministrations were met with little noises erupting from your throat without your realizing. Kissing down your body until she’s right above your elastic waistband, Kitten looks up at you with adoring eyes. You nod softly, letting her continue.

“Pretty, pretty,” she whispers, mostly to herself, as she pulls down both your sweatpants and panties. "Can't believe you're all mine."

You whine a bit as the cool air touches your bare self, fighting the urge to cover your most sensitive parts. Yet, Kitten’s fingers are always so warm, that they bring you some comfort. She brushes her hand over you, the other reaching to hold your breast. You feel Kitten’s touch everywhere, like an anchor to keep you in the moment. She whispers sweet nothings to your navel as she kisses down to your clit.

Her lips wrap around it, kissing and sucking with ease. As soon as you buck up, she smiles, not wanting to stop you from chasing whatever pleasure you desire. Her fingers tease at your entrance, circling. You felt content in just that until she began to knead your breast.

“Oh, Kitten…” Her finger slips in, curling as she enters. Your head rolls back onto the duvet, feeling every sensation she gives you. “Baby, hold on, one second.”

She immediately rescinds her finger, looking at you, worried, “What’s wrong, love?”

You shake your head, smiling, “Let me make you feel good too, okay? Makes me feel even better. Come on up here.”

Kitten’s concerned look turns to one of excitement as you pat your chest, alluding to what you meant exactly. She rises from her position, kissing your body all along the way. You watch as she begins to undress rather quickly, eager to answer your desires. Her dress falls away into a pile below her, and she steps from the swirls of fabric towards you.

Her lack of underwear has you raise an eyebrow, which goes unnoticed with her preoccupation with climbing on top of you. Kitten giggles as her warmth touches your cold skin as she positions herself reverse to you, hovering over your arousal.

You gaze lovingly at her own above you, biting your lip, “You ready, Kitten?”

“More than ever, baby. Let me taste you, pretty please?”

She wastes no time before diving in, and neither do you. You lick a stripe up her hole, and Kitten shudders against you. She laps at you and sneaks a hand to rub at your clit. Moaning against her, you continue to lick one of your favorite parts of her.

In any other situation, you would have taken your time opening her up and listening to her whines, but with the way she was sucking at your folds, you couldn't help but have your tongue enter her.

"Oh, (Y/N)!" Kitten's breath was heavy, but you didn't stop your actions. Instead, you smiled and sped up. God, you love making her feel the deepest of pleasures.

Kitten groans, beginning to ride your face as she goes to suck your clit. Her fingers move down to finger you yet again, and you pulse around her. You didn't realize how empty you felt until she filled you back up.

You whimper against her hole, the two of you unrelenting in your pleasuring of each other. The vibrations of her moaning had you shaking, you couldn't help but grind against her mouth as well.

Her length twitched, and it deserved your utmost attention. You reach a hand around to grab at her balls, and Kitten stutters against you.

"Fuck, fuck! You're so– ah!"

Tongue continuing to circle and dip into her fluttering hole, you start to pump, desperate for her to release all over your abdomen. Your undulating bodies, never once separating from each other, were hot and sticky. Neither of you would have it any other way.

Kitten scratches down your thighs as you grip her length, and she sucks your clit particularly harshly, and your eyes roll back.

"Don't stop, Kitten… fuck, I'm close."

She smirks, only moving away for a minute to speak sweet nothings, "Never gonna stop, pretty (Y/N)... you taste so good. Perfect for me, aren't you?"

You buck up into her lapping and sucking, feeling your release approaching, egged on by her words. Her hardness twitched, and the tip was leaking onto your fingers. Separating from her hole momentarily, you bite at her cheek, eliciting a muffled shriek from Kitten.

Her moans continue, and so do yours. She moved between thrusting into your hand and grinding on your face effortlessly, full of need. You loved the way she felt on top of you, shuddering and wanting, but still set on getting you off.

With Kitten’s fingers beginning to circle your entrance again, the feeling of relief washes over you like a tidal wave, almost quite literally. Your release wettens her face, but you’re too busy watching her cock release its own all over your stomach. The two of you orgasmed simultaneously, something you never even thought was possible, let alone with you squirting.

The pair of you stay in this moment for a little while, catching your collective breath and basking in the pleasure still coursing through your bodies.

“Darling, you’ve gotten me all wet, haven’t you?” Kitten murmurs against your thigh, kissing it gently. You feel the wetness she referred to now, and embarrassment floods you.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m sorry, I–”

Kitten bites your thigh suddenly, and you choke on your words, “I loved it, more than anything. You’re a treasure to behold, (Y/N). Now, what do we say?”

Your head thumps against the duvet again, face warm with your continued arousal and shame. “Thank you, Kitten. Thank you so much.”

“Not what I meant, but still appreciated, love,” she climbs off to lay down beside you, her fucked out gaze catching your attention. “Say that you deserve all the love I just gave you, otherwise I’ve half a mind to slap you on the behind, hm?”

You glow at her words, not disliking the implications, “I deserve the love you just gave me, Kitten, though I might have to take you up on that offer…”

She playfully slaps your arm, smiling, “Dirty girl.”

Kitten leans down to kiss you softly, tracing circles on your chest whilst doing so.

“Really, though, thank you. I hope you don’t mind staying in tonight.”

“I would never mind spending the evening in each other’s arms, especially when you’re not doing well, (Y/N) love.”

The two of you entangle with each other, a mess of limbs, giggling, and kisses. Maybe you could go dancing another night.

[thatgirl4815]

Loved these tags from @fromthedepthsandbeyond on this ask so wanted to use them as a jumping off point for a discussion about Sand in Ep7. (I hope you don't mind.)

Sand as a 'pathetic' character

I've seen quite a few folks on Twitter up in arms about how pathetic the narrative is painting Sand to be which, in my mind, is all relative. Because if we're comparing him to Nick, then Sand seems to have quite a bit of self-respect. But all these comments got me thinking how Sand does have self respect in so many aspects of his life; aside from Ray, he would seem to have everything put together. And Ray is the one thing he can't reconcile with his lifestyle, the one thing that doesn't fit. Up 'til now, he's allowed that.

Also got me thinking about this discussion I had with @waitmyturtles last episode regarding the woobification of certain characters. Looking back, I wonder if having Sand finally act out in Ep6 was all leading up to this moment, as Sand's revenge on Top quite literally is a major catalyst in bringing Ray and Mew together. After getting revenge on someone he thinks deserves to be punished, Sand is also being punished too. In some way, I wonder if that is a commentary on the cyclical nature of vengeance--how no matter how justified you are in your payback, you will pay for it too.

Regrets

What is Sand's personal plot? Clearly it's all tied up in Ray. But what do Sand's ties to Ray say about him? It says he's a natural caretaker, likely due to his upbringing, but it also says that caretaking plays a major role in his self-concept. What Sand is learning is that he does not demand exclusivity in his caretaking role--though he might want that, he hasn't demanded it from Ray, because he doesn't think he has a right to do that. Sand has a very acute awareness of morals and what is within his own bounds to demand. In this case, I think it goes back to what First said about Sand handling his emotions on his own; Sand wants Ray to care for him only, but he knows that's not a requirement of their relationship. Ray, on the other hand, demands Sand's sole attention, even though he doesn't deserve it. Despite Sand being burned near-constantly by Ray, he is the one who still feels like he can't demand things of Ray because of the pre-set terms of their relationship.

It also makes me curious...for all the pain it has caused him, how much does Sand regret getting his revenge on Top? Was it worth it? Because if he truly loves Ray, then we would assume that he does harbor regrets. (Which brings me to another question: Does Sand truly love Ray? What stage of infatuation is Sand at right now?) Looking morally, Sand likely thinks he was doing the right thing for exposing Top as a cheater, regardless of the consequences. But knowing if he has regrets about this could be a major clue in to just how down bad he is for Ray.

One of the reasons I'm loving this show so much (despite that crapshoot of a part 4/4 in Ep7, ugh) is because it's putting characters like Sand, who aren't even center stage, in an uncomfortable position. Sand has to confront his own values by pitting his morals and his feelings against each other. Going back to Ep3, is Ray 'just an exception'? Or has this kind of value-bending happened to Sand before?

And, in going back to the tags, is Sand going to change because of Ray? Personally, I think the Joker/Harley Quinn dynamic between Ray and Mew suggests that they will be making major changes for each other, which could stand in direct contrast to Sand. Ray is satisfied that he has finally gotten Mew to adapt to his lifestyle and be with him the way he wants, so why won't Sand give in too? Why won't Sand remain the person Ray wants him to be (as in: someone who drops everything the moment he calls)? Why can't Ray be in control of the people in his life the way he can't be in control of himself?

[starlit-dreaming]

[idea] the spiteful fake dating au

inspo from this post [click here]

obligatory tag (im an attention whore and therefore i summon thee): @lithi @hwang-lucas

tl;dr if you dont wanna click on the link:

"i know we could half-ass it, but i would never fake mistreat my fake husband, how dare you" which reads like athy to me

and

"my baby cousins are probably screwed when it comes to their chances of turning out normal, but I’d like them to have one healthy example in their life" which can pass as a caring uncle lucas

.

the setting and my Vision:

modern au, lucathy are probably mid-20s or early 30s im thinking??? maybe kinda like the ons/fwb au where athy's like. 28 and lucas is gonna be 30

so as the lines i've quoted state, lucas is gonna be a caring uncle whose brothers have shit show marriages. a train wreck and not gonna be healthy at all (oldest has a falling apart 15 year marriage and kids were their solution of slapping tape on the problems; youngest has a hateful wife and is a doormat probably; i need a reminder on whether or not lucas is the youngest but im gonna treat him as the middle bro atm cause its the Vibes).

and yeah, he wants Nothing^tm to do with his family, but his nieces and nephews deserve to see a healthy relationship to have as an example and damn does he hate his in-laws more than his actual family

so he asks athy to be his fake wife

(i feel like it'd be funny if they signed a marriage certificate just in case lucas deals with paranoid family (when really he's just paranoid and athy's an overthinker who HELPED him get paranoid at the thought), then they got drunk, and accidentally submitted the paperwork and just straight up forgot

"wdym you guys ACTUALLY filed the paperwork?????????" -- helena probs

"oh shit does that mean we got married fr???" -- athy, before the panic settles in

it becomes an inside joke among their friends after the panic of it wears off because now they're pretty much committed to the bit for the sake of lucas' nieces and nephews so now there are jokes about "where's your wife/husband" and "" etc etc)

athy's gonna constantly overthink it (and desperately trying to avoid ever mentioning it to her parents because her mom would be so disappointed that there wasnt a wedding and claude might kill lucas if he makes athy cry)

plus she's 100% gonna be ready to fite lucas's shitty relatives if they say something bad about him

side note: diana 100% thinks that lucas is athy's long-time bf so she's always joking with claude that lucas is finally gonna drop down on one knee any day now and claude, being a super big grump, is just "at least its not that alpheus kid"

little do they know that lucas became a legit in-law (although they still invite him for family dinners, and when its mentioned that athy's parents treat him as family, lucas's parents and grandparents take that as a CHALLENGE)

athy being petty by having a sickeningly sweet relationship and talking about how wonderful lucas is as a husband and partner because of how much she just straight up hates one of the sister in-laws

i'm self-indulgent, so i'm gonna have the classic "my sister in-law tried to sleep with my husband" stories

also idk if its just me but when it comes to fake dating aus (which i'm a SUCKER for) i think its a++++++++ when one of them casually goes "yknow if we were actually doing this for realsies, we'd probably be making out in a closet rn" and the other person sweating cause that sounds infinitely better than what they're doing rn

ALSO

the casual "oh yeah athy's crazy about that kinda shit" or "lucas would absolutely hate that lmao" and just FLEXING on everyone about how good of a partner they are to the other

and lucas, who originally suggested that they don't have to do any lovey-dovey stuff and that they can just be the same as always, ends up getting a fuming athy who more or less goes "my REPUTATION would be at stake if people found out that we broke up just because i wasn't being a loving and caring partner, so hell no!!!!!"

aksulifdfhbjdkshf i'm running on like,,,,,,, 5 hours of sleep and havent slept in like,,,,, 17 hours now

so i'm just gonna leave this unedited all-over-the-place mess here

[quin-ns]

Taking Care (Saul Goodman x Reader)

Word count: 2K

Summary: after jesse beats up saul you help fix him up

Tags: brba ep. 5x11, canon violence, canon behavior, blood mention, hurt/comfort kinda, hurt!saul, saul being a bit sleazy but it’s goofy it’s fine, fluff, flirting, humor/comedy, very light hearted despite the episode, kissing, happy end :)

A/N: finished breaking bad and couldn’t get this episode out of my brain. im a saul simp now and even tho he lowkey deserved it i didn’t like seeing him get beat up. my self indulgent fix it- idk how big the fandom for saul fics is so I’ll just have to see lol

Misc masterlist + main masterlist

As you headed into Saul’s office from the waiting room, you heard a commotion. Saul was screaming at someone. The door had been kicked in. You’d seen some pretty crazy things happen here, but you were in no way expecting to find Jesse being the cause of the chaos.

“Jesse! Stop!” you shouted, gaining the young man’s attention. He was standing over Saul—who was on the ground, hands raised in defense—with a gun pointed on the man.

Jesse stared at you in surprise, obviously not anticipating your arrival. His jaw tightened and he looked guilty. You were one of the only people left whose opinion of him actually mattered to Jesse. The two of you were friends; you could only hope he’d listen to you.

“Oh Y/N, thank god,” Saul said in relief when he spotted you in the room. “Call the police!”

You weren’t sure if he was serious or not—Saul never wanted police at his office—but it must’ve been bad if he was even willing to mention calling help.

“No need,” Jesse decided. He dug into Saul’s pocket and grabbed something out. Sounded like keys. “We’re done here,” he told you calmly. Huell, Saul’s massive bodyguard, tried to block the door. “Back up!” Jesse yelled, pointing the gun at him. You weren’t in the line of fire and you really hoped Jesse wouldn’t shoot you, but you stumbled back further away from him. Huell moved too and let Jesse out the door.

Huell ran over to Saul and tried to help him up. “Get off me! What do I pay you for?” Saul yelled at Huell and grabbed his phone. He frantically called someone and said, “hey, it’s me. We got a big problem.”

Huell ran off out the door and you turned to go after Jesse too. As much as he was deranged in the moment, you tried to convince yourself maybe you could help, but Saul interrupted your contemplation after making his call that you didn’t pay attention too.

“Leave him,” Saul coughed out. “He has a gun and is clearly not afraid to wave it around.” You looked back at him and became aware of the damage Jesse had done.

“Oh, you idiot,” you muttered, approaching Saul where he had slumped back to the ground. It was only the two of you in the office now. “What did you do?”

He let out a dramatic scoff. “Me?” Saul asked, offended, as you crouched down next to him. “I get assaulted and I’m somehow at fault?”

You took his bloody face in your hands and inspected the injuries. “Jesse wouldn’t beat you up for no reason.”

A guilty look crossed his face as your hands fell. “I’ll tell you about it later,” he grumbled reluctantly, sitting up straight. You weren’t sure if he ever would. “Can you help me out first, maybe?” Saul gestured to his face.

“Yeah,” you replied curtly, standing. You kept a first aid kit in your car. You were in a similar line of business to Mike and through him you met Saul (and Jesse, Walter, and Gus). Although, the only ones you became friends with were Jesse and Saul.

Your friendship with Saul was a little more… well, more complex. You had a good rapport with him and often bantered back and forth, flirting and what not.

You stopped by his office more than you probably should’ve and he was always pleased to see you appear. That’s how you thought today would go when you came by to visit. You had a couple minutes to spare so you figured you’d swing by for a few. He joked more than once that you could take up all his time in a day and he wouldn’t charge you a dime.

You went out and grabbed the kit from under your seat as quickly as you could. It was something you kept on hand given your past experiences in your occupation. And right now, it was about to come in handy.

Saul was standing when you walked in, looking around the room at the mess. His expression was defeated, which was only amplified by the cuts, bruises, and most of all the bloody nose.

“God, he did a number on you,” you commented, unable to hold back. You actually felt bad for him even though you weren’t sure whose fault it was—it looked like it hurt.

“I’m aware,” he replied, disgruntled, and dropped down into his chair.

You rounded the desk to his side with the kit and set it on the surface of it. You began to unpack the kit and set aside the things you needed. Saul watched you—your back was to him but you could feel his eyes on you.

The first thing you did was check his nose to make sure it wasn’t broken. Good news, it wasn’t. Just really, really bloody. And there was a cut on the bridge. You grabbed a packet of wipes and started to get to work.

You focused on wiping the blood away, but you noticed Saul’s eyes scanning your face. He was watching you almost transfixed. He had been quiet for a few seconds, which was longer than usual for him.

“If I knew I could get you this close I would’ve gotten my ass kicked sooner,” he finally spoke up in that sleazy manor you were so used to.

You scoffed out a laugh. “At least you’re not trying to say you won that.”

Blood was still dripping from his nose, layering onto what was already present, so you took care of that first. You cleaned it from his face which he groaned and whined about, but you wouldn’t have expected anything less.

“Don’t be such a baby,” you muttered.

You finished up with that and his nose finally stopped leaking fresh blood. It was a start, right? You threw bloody wipes away in a little desk side trash can and moved on.

You leaned in a little, glancing over the injuries. You dabbed at the cut on the bridge of his nose with one of those tiny square alcohol wipes.

Saul winced but recovered quickly.

“Are you gonna kiss it and make it better?” he teased while you rolled your eyes and reached for a band aid. “If so I think I might have a scratch on my lip.” You raised your brows with a look that said a sarcastic ‘really?’ “What? I—I thought it was a legitimate healing method.” The lie rolled so easily off his tongue you might’ve believed he believed it. Part of being a lawyer you assumed.

“You wouldn’t know what to do with yourself if I did,” you said offhandedly (baiting him), unwrapping the bandaid and placing it on the bridge of his nose.

“What?” Saul sounded incredibly offended. “I so would,” he argued.

Before he could get another word in, you grasped his face in each of your hands and leaned down to capture his lips. Saul, as expected, was stunned. You pulled back with a light laugh while he stared at you dumbfounded.

“See?” you said with sass and a smile. “Now can I finish?”

Saul nodded, speechless for the first time in… well, as long as you’d known him.

Now that his nose was taken care of, which is where the brunt of the damage was, you could focus on the more minor things. Like the eye that was probably going to be a tad swollen and the cut on his forehead.

“You’re taking such good care of me,” he mused. “I’m starting to think you like me.”

“Maybe I do,” you replied smoothly, not missing a beat as you worked.

“I want a do-over,” Saul announced, referring to the kiss where you’d very effectively proved your point.

You ignored him, except for biting back a small smile to yourself. “I can’t do anything about the eye and the cut on your forehead is so small it probably doesn’t need a bandaid. Unless you want one.”

“It’s fine,” Saul dismissed.

“Alright then,” you stepped back to look over him one more time. “You’re good to go.”

“Thanks,” he told you, but was already distracted by prodding at the bandaid.

“I only had a few minutes so I gotta head out now,” you told him as you packed up the first aid kit.

You closed it and grabbed it, then headed for the doorway. Saul realized you were leaving and furrowed his brows, trying to find something to say. You only made it about halfway before—

“Wait! A date!” Saul scrambled to stand, but recovered and tried to act casual. “A date. We should go on one,” he suggested. “Like, for real.”

There it was. Something you’d been waiting for for a while. You knew he had a thing for you beyond just provocative comments and flirting, it was obvious, but he never actually asked you out. So you didn’t plan on taking him up on any of his offers until he was serious. It took a while, but that moment finally came.

If you were mean, you would’ve said the punch knocked some sense into him.

“Sure,” you replied after a beat.

“Really?” He sounded surprised. “I mean, really?” he repeated, much more collected. “That’s great. Okay. So uh, how about dinner this Friday?”

“You sure you don’t have… other stuff going on?” you asked vaguely, but he knew exactly what you were referring to.

Saul flashed you that charming grin of his. “For you? I have all the time in the world.”

You couldn’t help but smile and let out a laugh at that. Sure he could be coquettish but you genuinely did enjoy his presence. Besides, it suited him. You couldn’t imagine Saul being a perfect, boring gentleman. The flirting was like a game with him and you liked to play just as much as he did.

“Do me a favor, though—”

“Anything,” he responded a little too quickly.

“—try and keep that handsome face intact, alright? No more bloody noses,” you requested with a sarcastic tone (though you did mean it). “If you and I go out I don’t want people thinking I beat you.”

Saul chuckled at your joke. “I’d let you,” he said lasciviously. Despite the wicked glint you were pretty sure he was joking. Although with Saul you could never be too sure.

You scoffed, but with a sense of humor. “I don’t think that’s the compliment you think it is.”

“Whatever,” he said with a shrug. Saul strolled towards you, going overboard with how leisurely he tried to be. You laughed to yourself when he stopped in front of you. The sound made him crack a smile of his own.

“Can I get my do-over?” Saul implored.

“Hmm,” you hummed. “No,” you said unseriously. You laughed at your own joke and Saul sensed your tone.

“You sure?” Saul placed a hand on your waist and decreased the distance. His other hand rose to your cheek. You looked into those soft blue eyes of his.

“Maybe not,” you sighed out as he was already closing the gap between your lips.

Saul initiated and you gladly reciprocated. This kiss, unlike before, was expected. And not to prove a point. You weren’t sure what you thought kissing him would be like, but it was nice. Good. He had you practically swooning by the time the two of you separated.

“I gotta go, but um,” you said softly, eyes lingering on his lips. “I’ll see you Friday?” You flicked your eyes up to meet his.

“How about seven? I’ll pick you up,” Saul offered with a lopsided smile.

You clicked your tongue. “But your car is so tacky,” you teased.

“Hey! My car is awesome,” he defended. “You’ll look great in the passenger side.” Saul patted your hip (nearly your ass) and shot you a wink.

“You better make this date worth my while.” You poked him in the chest, all teasing and accusing like, and stepped back. You turned on your heal and headed out of the office.

"I wouldn't dream of anything less!" Saul called after you. You could hear the smile on his face and for the rest of the day, nothing could get rid of the one on yours.

[screamingcrows]

Hold me the way that you would (for the final time)

Note: Listen. This was uh- a spur of the moment thing. Takes place directly after Tie a tether here. Do not fucking feed this to ai, I'll get you Trypanosoma rhodesiense. Link to the not-a-series. Link to the song I took the title from Warnings/tags: MDNI, Dottore x female OC, mentions of previous self harm (specifically cutting, scratching), mild delusions (the psychotic kind, not the vision mimics), mild suicide ideations, mental breakdown, not established relationship, bad comfort. Minors, ageless, and blank blogs DNI

The faint buzzing of electro coming from various machinery was almost pleasant to Celeste's ears, giving her something else to focus on rather than the guilt currently sticking like a mass of tar in her throat, impossible to swallow around yet still not enough to cut off her air.

Dottore's incessant muttering as well. Why was he the only version seemingly incapable of communicating with the other segments without letting broken phrases spill from his lips. Maybe he wanted her to hear this? Hear as he no doubt berated her to them. Why would he rub it in like this, he wasn't cruel, was he?

Still, whatever words were spoken didn't reach her ears, everything swimming in her mind save for the buzz and a dull throb as unbidden voices rammed the weak fortifications Dottore's grip on her wrist provided. He was right, he always was, it didn't feel better, she just- it was all numb. How the voices always made her forget and coaxed to bloodshed was beyond her.

Stupid. Ah, when had she started crying again?

Slipping further and further from reality, Celeste barely noticed Dottore stopping, not when she smacked into the firm mass of muscle, not when grasped her chin and scrutinized her expression, not even when he gave up and threw her over his shoulder. There was only the faintest awareness that something wet was still trailing down her arms, dripping in a familiar enough trail into the depths of connected laboratories. At least it got to be severed from her.

It was with little fanfare that her body was deposited onto familiar cold metal, ears twitching as they barely picked up on a gruff 'down we go' from Dottore. Celeste could already feel the ghastly hands of her own subjects - victims - reaching from the blank surface, wrapping around her limbs and attempting to pull her under.

If this was death, then it felt wholly underwhelming. It was both numb and downright bland, no care left in her to be properly afraid as they whispered threats and promises of relief, slowly dragging her into a mirror that couldn't be worse than this. It was, after all, what she wanted wasn't it?

A shaky thumb, warmer than the others, almost comfortable, like porcelain after pouring a cup of tea, dragged across her cheek.

"You-" Celeste blinked, studying the face that hovered above her for an unnecessary amount of time, "you're not Delta."

"What an astute observation. As expected from my most brilliant assistant."

His clipped sarcasm didn't even sting, she deserved it for making mess after mess for him to clean up. Utterly worthless. Had there been a hint of exhaustion in his voice as well? He'd only just returned from a longer expedition, and here she was, causing problems.

"You said Delta would take care of," she gestured vaguely at herself, unable to pinpoint exactly what the poor segment could even hope to fix.

She wanted to offer doing it herself, but even through that damnable haze of cackling laughter and moving shadows, Celeste recognized the folly of thinking herself capable of anything. A minuscule comfort that she at least retained that level of awareness.

"Lying is hardly the worst sin you've seen me commit," it stung when he turned his back, and Celeste almost wanted to reach for him, feeling misery fill her lungs with every quickening breath he was away, "and will you kindly be quiet? It's impossible to focus."

Before she could protest, or even process the words, a rough palm placed itself gingerly on her shoulder, clearly trying to avoid any of the lacerations she'd left. Taking the hint, Celeste struggled to turn, face pressed against the cool metal as she closed her eyes, refusing to risk meeting that same abrasive reflection she'd seen in his bathroom.

"Celestia above." Hearing those words from his lips might have made her laugh under any other circumstances, now it was just a shameful reminder of how far she was truly pushing him.

A pained yelp escaped when fingers tangled in her hair, yanking firmly to lift her head. She had half a mind to hiss and writhe, tail already swishing vehemently when a familiar white coat was pushed under her head and she was carefully released.

Ground coffee and the sharpness of isopropyl did little to properly mask the earthy tones, he could've given her any of their lab coats, knowing there were always generous numbers scattered around the room, but this was so distinctly his. With her eyes closed, it almost felt like a hug. The fabric didn't stay dry for long as salty tears soaked into it.

It perfectly masked the inferno raging across her skin with the gentle press of cotton, washing away the crimson streaks in preparation. The fabric crumpled beneath in her grip, uncaring as sharp nails tore into it, better that than succumb to the urges to rend her own flesh in front of him. He'd already said there would be a scolding, what more would another thing ruined do?

How long had passed when a sting, far more tangible, had her body jolting back to reality was uncertain, but the hand swiftly pressing itself between her shoulder blades to weigh her down was no mirage.

"Oh for- stay still while I close this."

That got her immediate attention, attempting to twist under his iron grip, only prompting more hissed curses and a familiar - pleasant - scratch of something sharp tearing open the outermost layer of skin when his hand slipped.

"Keep that up and I won't hesitate to strap you to the damn table."

He'd properly snapped, like a wild beast, that hint of Beta's core showing itself as it only did when thoroughly stressed, whatever excursion he'd been on must've been bad. Or he was just angry with her. What little dignity was left made Celeste be grateful for the temporary relief as pain seared her nerves, calming down enough that Dottore's palm eased the pressure.

"Could've at least used a local anesthetic…"

"I certainly could," Dottore clicked his tongue, clearly struggling to keep his voice even, "but right now-"

The rest trailed off to a low murmur, just out of reach as Celeste strained her ears. But she understood the meaning. Of course she didn't deserve for this to be any semblance of pleasant. It made it easier to bite into the fabric and tune out the world, focused only on how it hurt, it was tangible and easy. She didn't even catch the shaky breath he took before picking the needle back up.

Focusing on the clatter of cages stacked in a corner, little rustles as the rodents went about their routines, soothed the remnants of unrest, her jaw slowly unlocking as she released the coat, now drenched in tears and saliva. The hands that rubbed carefully at her sides weren't the source of this borrowed serenity.

Neither did it bring any comfort when he came to sit on the edge of the table, hand refusing to part with her ruined shoulders.

"You've never once mentioned harboring these feelings"

"It's none of your business and-"

"It became my concern the moment-" his grip tightened for a moment, that thing akin to anger in his voice mellowing out as he continued, "the moment you decided to bleed out on my floor."

"-and I've told you multiple times that I felt empty," Celeste made certain her voice reflected the exhaustion in her bones, sniffling a little for good measure in a futile hope it might dissuade further arguments, "shouldn't be too hard to figure out the rest…"

"You should've been direct. As convenient as it would be, I've yet to fully devise an instrument letting me read your thoughts."

That caught Celeste's attention, turning her head to look at the man hovering above her. He looked about as plagued as she felt, captivating agnidus agates sunken into their sockets, cerulean hair tousled, and the telltale scruff that lined his jaw, firmly cementing his identity among them all. If she could, she'd wish to cut out parts of herself as well. Would it be better, she wondered, if parts of her could be killed?

That's not how it works.

"Fully?"

Tentative hints of a grin grazed his lips, the little flash of sharp teeth making her curl up just a little.

His eyes flashed, pushing her flat against the table again, "Quit it, I didn't stitch you up just to you tear them immediately," a sigh as she stilled before that small hint of relief reappeared, "it's good to see your curiosity remains unharmed."

"So you were bluffing."

"I do think calling it a 'jest' would be far more appropriate."

Annoying as it was, the distraction had brought the slightest hint of warmth to her chest. What a ridiculous idea, though she supposed what Omega and a few others had been tinkering with in the Akasha wasn't too far from it.

A sigh left her lips, moving slowly to sit beside him while wasting no time wrapping the white coat around her bare torso. It was frigid in there now that feeling was slowly returning.

"I'll go back to rest," Celeste hated how it came out as more of a question, about to add something to mask the uncertainty when Dottore perked up.

"Absolutely not," his grip shifted to just above her knee, "and that is non negotiable. I cannot force you to speak, but you are staying here until I am certain you can refrain from repeating this little stunt."

So much for escaping. Celeste brought a hand down to run across the back of his hand, uncertain how to proceed with how firm those words had been. It was an order, not a suggestion, which was surprisingly rare.

"Both of us need rest."

She couldn't help the amused snort at how he didn't even hesitate to gesture at the table they were seated upon in response. A pleasant chuckle echoed from his throat, and Celeste found herself relenting, leaning to lay back down whilst wiping at the salty tracks streaking across her cheeks.

"Incredible. Truly a marvel of comfort."

"If you want to be cross, there's the floor as well," a small pause, the air almost cloying with unspoken words, "you're certain you don't want to discuss what this was?"

Would it be better to just get it out, even if there was no solution or way to fix her like a machine with a few gears out of place, wasn't it still something to just say it aloud? But then there was the matter of explaining how everything had been crumbling for years. It was too personal.

And you will look weak. Weak and pathetic. You're probably on thin ice already.

Celeste nodded her head meekly, unable to look as Dottore let out a soft grunt and pushed away, moving with none of his usual suave towards a corner filled with clutter. Stacks of crates enthusiastically brought in and left half unpacked, someone really should do something about it… Before Celeste could mentally smack herself for already having volunteered herself in her mind, a blanket she usually used for keeping subjects warm before procedures landed beside her head.

"Make yourself comfortable then."

They were found by Omega at the crack of dawn, Dottore haphazardly laid out on his back, legs hanging off the side, an open notebook covering his face, and Celeste held tightly against his side.

[vampziry]

since we are in a new year, it means that we are also embodying a new way of living. me, for the most part, would like my life to go in a different path this year.

i love hyping myself up, thinking and analyzing what i truly deserve as a person, i have been a wonderful friend, girlfriend and daughter, i can’t settle for less. i literally don’t care about the people who call me a narcissist for putting myself on top of most of the things -which is truly important by the way-

without self love you can’t move around in life. how are you gonna convince yourself that you’re worthy of things when you can’t even agree that you deserve them? yes, of course we can manifest stuff in our lives without having a perfect mindset but also sometimes we need to fix it for ourselves and not because of our manifestations and the void only.

i’m a person who overthinks and it’s negative as hell from time to time, like some of you too. i struggle, like a lot of people do. i’m not a special human being, i was made the same way that you were made too. i love talking, i love talking my thoughts and emotions out. i love identifying with people here, i love when people tag me in their journey and manifestation path, i love my anons and their cute appreciation messages weekly, it really makes my day, and i’m also very grateful to you guys for always being there for me even though i’m not the most active person in this community but if i can’t provide a new post for you, i make sure to reblog my whole timeline so you don’t miss out as well!!

i just wanted to post this so i can come back to this whenever i feel down, to remind myself that the year just started and that everything that i want will be mine, i’m worthy of good things and so are you.

i wanna manifest everything that i couldnt last year, everything that i postponed, repay the months that i spent rotting on my bed feeling like a failure, replace my bad and negative thoughts with joyful and happier ones. being even more helpful for all of you who follow me, i might not be a super blogger but i need to assure that everything i do, i do it with intention and a pure heart.

i’m starting a new journey, the old story will end up being ashes and something new will eventually happen. cause i’ve been supporting everyone since my first day here and i love to see how all of you are growing up, especially changing your mentality and i wanna congratulate all those anons who got out of toxic relationships, toxic environments and the ones who have succeeded in their main goals and made all their wishes come true.

don’t let anything or anyone disturb you or take the focus away from your journey. we are all deserving of our desires, don’t feel guilty.

[callsigndragon]

Seeing Red | Ch 0.5: Off with his head!

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x ex-wife!Reader (Call sign: Red Queen)

Word count: 559

Warnings: a very pissed off and hot Cyclone.

A/N: AND IT'S HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEERE. I remembered that tomorrow I have a morning shift so I wouldn't be able to write a whole full chapter for y'all, but I got time to write a sneak peek BEFORE the whole full chapter that maybe will be posted by tomorrow night or maybe Tuesday. Don't know yet. FEW IMPORTANT THINGS TO KEEP IN MIND: Whenever they talk about Red, they will say Commander, not Lieutenant Commander. In general conversation, they don't say Lieutenant, only Commander. But whenever there's a formal conversation, or she's being introduced to a new person, she will be adressed as Lieutenat Commander.

Masterlist is on pinned post, in Jake's Masterlist. If I add a link, my fic won't show up under the tags. I'm really sorry about it.

Beau Simpson has always considered himself to be a patient man. Even when Maverick walked around Top Gun doing whatever he pleased, not caring about the consequences of his actions, he never lost his patience. Not completely, at least. 

Hangman, however, soon enough proved to be a worthy successor to Maverick’s abilities, not only as a pilot but also as a troublemaker. 

The Vice Admiral didn’t care much about it during the uranium mission training, because, even though Hangman acted like a complete idiot and left his wingman behind on a dogfighting exercise, he then started to be part of the team. Maybe, and just maybe, Maverick’s teachings about the importance of teamwork and how one should always rely on their team had finally gotten into his head. 

And then, just like everyone imagined, once the mission was over, he started being his old self with everyone that wasn’t part of the Dagger Squad. 

Cyclone had given him the team leader position, hoping that the pressure of such a position would make him a better person, more responsible, and less reckless. 

It had the opposite effect. 

But, come to think of it, he knows that none of them are fit to be team leaders. All have been extremely influenced by Maverick’s attitude. It’s like having his children run all around the base, causing havoc. 

He needs to think of something to stop them from becoming more like Maverick. If that can be helped. 

“Cyclone.” 

Beau raises his head, noticing Warlock’s figure peeping into the office. He knows that tone. And it’s not a good one. “What has he done now?” 

Warlock hides a laugh, faking a cough, before moving further into the office. "Remember when you thought that grounding Lieutenant Seresin to be a Top Gun instructor for a month was a good idea?” 

Cyclone inhales loudly, dropping his fountain pen—the one that his daughters had bought him for his birthday not so long ago. “It wasn’t, right?” 

“He’s teaching them that sometimes leaving your wingman is the only correct course of action.” 

“Every time one of those little Mitchells does something, I lose ten years of my life.” 

Warlock chuckles, but stops instantly when he sees Cyclone’s glare. “You want me to bring him to your office?” 

Cyclone sighs. He had been considering doing something for a few weeks, but he felt it was too cruel, even for someone deserving of such a punishment as Hangman. But this has gone too far.

Jake Seresin needs to be stopped. 

He picks up the phone, searching for a phone number that his secretary had looked up for him earlier this week. There’s a devilish smirk on his lips while he presses the buttons down. 

“What are you doing?” Warlock asks, leaning over the table to look at the number written on a yellow post-it. 

“Chop off his head.” 

He waits for a few seconds until a female voice answers. "Hello?" 

"Lieutenant Commander Seresin?" 

"Yeah, that's me. Please, call me Red." 

"Good morning, Red. I'm Vice Admiral Simpson. There's an empty position in an elite squad, and we think you're exactly what the team is missing." 

"When do you want me to be there?" She says, not needing any more information. 

"The question is, when can you be here?" 

There's a pause. "In two days." 

"Welcome back to Top Gun, Commander." 

Tag list: @purplevortexx @shrimping-for-all @caitsymichelle13 @callmemana @abaker74 @starkleila @topgunmenbefinebruh @blue-aconite @tayrae515 @alexxavicry @xoxabs88xox @mercurio23 @smells-like-perfect-senses @dempy @djs8891

[raayllum]

in honour of this post, tags on another of mine i cannot remember that talked briefly about Rayla's issues, and that I've talked about Claudia and Callum's moments of being hypocritical, now I want to actually talk about Rayla's hypocritical tendencies cause it's something S4 and S5 made a fun little consistency - let's dive in

Rayla can sometimes ignore (or react indignantly to) other people possibly having their own reasons/justifications because she's tunnel visioned into only thinking about her own justifications as uniquely warranted

Let me explain

The first time I noticed this was in 2x03, mostly because it was one of those moments that made me laugh even though it's not trying to be funny because

Cause Rayla, honey, you know you lied to them too ("lying and hiding the truth aren't that different") - and Callum forgave you for that and is still your friend. Why would Claudia and Soren be any different to him? (And they are, but not the point of this point).

Now, unlike Soren (who is the person they're primarily discussing), Rayla didn't lie outright, but she did lie by omission - much the same way Claudia did. And Rayla has known her own motivations all along - probably worried they might give up on their mission if they knew (especially at the start), and she doesn't want them to hate her, and most of all by this point in the show, she didn't want to hurt them ("I'm afraid of hurting him" / "when you care about someone, it's hard to hurt them").

This made sense to me in terms of Rayla being good at being initially (often times rightfully, sometimes not so) indignant on her own behalf. She is able to justify herself and does so often, both angrily - as the next examples will show - and more neutrally ("How could I take his life?"). She defends herself both physically and personally to Corvus ("I didn't kill anyone"), she smarts at Callum when he (rightfully) tries to push at her ("I don't have to explain anything to you"), and is mad at Ethari when they initially talk ("Yeah, it's me. Surprised to see my face?"). This initial defense of herself doesn't usually persist and typically gives way to self loathing ("I can fix this" / "I don't deserve your trust, not yet" / "They're right to reject me") but it is there at first and is usually her first reaction, which is very fun.

However, this coupled together with the other two instances arc 2 brings up in terms of her being kind of a hypocrite makes it a pattern, beginning in early season four. (Callum also isn't at his best in early season four, saying he doesn't want to talk about stuff and then bringing it up the next episode to take a jab at her - but he's still dealing with the fallout of the problems she caused, so he absolutely gets more of a pass. As always, see my In Defense of Callum's Narrative Lens from way back in the day if you're interested in more of how his perspectives are portrayed.)

Because gee, Rayla, I wonder whose fault that is? And again, it does make sense that she's angry - she's spent two years just wanting to be with him with none of the messy complex heartbreak he had to go through because she was the one who made the choice to leave. She expected him to at least shout at her, not ice her out completely. And again, we see that initial indignant streak fade when he reiterates he wants to go, and she looks down disappointed, but accepting of it (and puts whether she'll stay or not in his hands, too).

Since she had a good reason for leaving, and it's what her parents did, while she expected anger, she also wants affection and love. Isn't her justification enough, in some ways? Shouldn't it be? And while Rayla wrestled back and forth with this, it's clear she does think that it should be (even if both seasons show she's starting to realize just why she was wrong).

But we do see this hypocritical tendency of hers perhaps pop up most prominently in S5 with Nyx

Again, in Rayla's head, lying and stealing the key wasn't perhaps the right thing to do, but the better thing to do than burden Callum with what she was going through / to be open and vulnerable. It makes sense why she'd do so - and her shot at Nyx gets a tiny pass cause she's technically sticking up for Ezran - but it still falls back on Rayla leaning too heavily on her logic / independent streak to justify actions that are actually counterproductive to having healthy, wilfully open relationships.

And this is something I love about TDP. Even when the characters are genuinely making the worst possible fucking decisions they ever could (hi arc 1 Viren, Claudia and Karim constantly in particular) you completely understand how and why they're justifying those decisions, and Rayla is no different. Doesn't mean they're right, doesn't mean it's not logically stupid or fair or whatever, but it's emotionally consistent, and that's what matters most in the end. And now we have a fun little consistency to add to the pile