#well i don’t think i deserve anyone worthy anyway so

[divkazkdovikde]

8 billion people in the whole fucking world and none of y’all bitches want to date me. and why the fuck not? do you guys even know what y’all missing?

oh i’ll tell you what y’all missing

depressed ambivert sarcastic bitch with trust issues, fucked up family, low self esteem and high fucking standards.

also i have good taste in music.

[biolumien]

hello!! I loved your rooftop smoke fic so much oh my goodness could I ask for literally anything hoshina I would love to read more of your works... It would make my day if hoshina fell first/if he was the one hopelessly in love but anything that is easier to write for you I would love to read

ALSO PLS FEEL FREE TO IGNORE THIS IF ITS NOT EXACTLY IT FOR U!!! TYSM IN ADVANCE

notes: bwahhhh omg… thank you for liking my first work…  i havent written hoshina before… but uh. i hope this is good. same reader-insert from last time for this one too!

hoshina falls first (or tries not to, because to love is to be known)

soshiro hoshina x gn!reader i turned it into kind of a character study, forgive me word count: 1103

let’s get this right off the bat, to clear any misconceptions. hoshina’s not a romantic. he doesn’t fall for anyone first. he’s built up the demeanor of a sly, wily little fox not because he wanted to, but because he had to. tread lightly around others, and they will never know what lies in your heart, the insecurities that bubble and eat at you alive. never let them know how you feel, because as soon as your inherent, weak-willed intent is shown, you’ll be devoured alive.

well.

that’s what hoshina tells himself, anyway. 

it’s what he has to remind himself of constantly when he sees you.

you’re not allowed, he reminds himself, to get under his skin. not in any mean way, not in the way where you play up his insecurities–except you do, don’t you? you don’t mean to, but he gets the impression that if he were conventionally stronger, more impressive, that he’d deserve your attention, the small smile that crosses your lips and lights up your eyes when you see him, the faint exhale of breath when you see him–he’d deserve that if he were better. if he were just simply better, he’d deserve it. he’d feel worthy of it.

hoshina’s not a romantic.

he signed up for a line of very dangerous, practically suicidal work knowing it might mean the death of him.

all to prove that he was worth something.

he’s not the ashes you throw away, he’s a brilliant ball of fire, can’t you see–but he needed to prove that he could shine alone, under his own merit. he didn’t need anyone, except he needed mina to get him into the third division anyway. 

he didn’t need you, except he kept making excuses to get close to you, and not even in any particular suave way. hoshina practically pines for your affections and attention, but the key thing about it is that he refuses, in a way that’s either very cute or insanely frustrating, to make it seem like he’s making the first move. fleeting kisses he shared with you, he never properly initiated himself–he’d stand there, make a big show of leaving, and you’d pulled him by the collar to kiss him. 

but at the very least you seem to be accommodating about it, in any case. you sometimes end up preparing him a cup of tea when you go on break, as if instinctually expecting him.

hoshina wonders if he’s pavlov’s dog in this case–drawn by you, trained to behave around you.

he doesn’t know how he feels about it.

“you keep coming here,” you say to him one day in the lab. at your desk is a wide variety of papers–notes on chemical formulas for bullets, the blueprints for one of mina’s new absurdly-large guns shoved haphazardly under a stack of notebooks, a coffee cup clasped between your hands, and you blow some of the fresh steam off. “i’m starting to think the captain’s going to find you slacking off.”

there’s a sardonic smile on your lips, but hoshina’s gotten better at reading you. you’re happy to see him–he can see it in the tiny way you fidget a little bit when he takes the spare coffee mug from your desk, finding it full of coffee already. does he feel his face softening, his drawn-up shoulders relaxing? no, surely not. he’s better than that. he won’t be influenced by you–and yet. and yet. 

“you have a lock on your door if you don’t want to be disturbed,” hoshina says simply, taking a sip of the coffee. black with a single spoonful of sugar in it, because as much as it was impressive to drink your coffee purely black, hoshina quite frankly couldn’t take it. and he’d built as much a complex around that, too, as if a simple coffee preference might define how worthy he is of love. respect. the works. he watches you, sees dark under-eyes from days of restless work and the writer’s bump on your middle finger, and feels his heart squeeze.

god, he hates it. does he? does he hate it? is he insecure about that? does he hate that he doesn’t hate it? does he hate that by pining for you, by forcing his way into your life, that he’s created the rumblings of his own downfall? no. the worst part of it all is that he can’t hate you. can’t hate the way you watch him, and he wonders if you’re watching him the same way he observes you–like a prey animal, almost, twitchy and nervous, in an attempt to grasp at feeble understanding. 

“if you keep coming back here, i’m going to assume you’re in love with me,” you say.

and you have no idea what those words do to him, really. you don’t know, because hoshina has learned to obscure most of his emotions, at the very least. 

so why does his face feel so hot?

“hm.”

he can’t even come up with a proper retort. you’re staring at him expectantly, as if waiting for the classic hoshina quip–a cackle or giggle, a casual slap on the table with a you wish! attached to it. but it doesn’t come. hoshina stands there, gagged for a moment–and suddenly his grip on his coffee cup feels a little weak.

“hoshina.”

he wishes the smile on your lips didn’t trigger some gut instinct of delight in him.

he’s better than this, damn it. he’s better than this.

your smile quirks up the corners of your cheeks, and there’s something like a shy flush across your skin. and–

“i wish i could take a picture of your face right now,” you say. “you look like you’re coming down with something.”

hoshina scoffs, the sound a little more high-pitched than he’d like for it to be.

“you wish,” he says. 

“so are you?” you press. “in love with me?”

hoshina stares at you–there’s a sudden tightness in your shoulders that wasn’t there before–you’re worried about his answer. and despite it all–his bravado, his hatred of the mere idea that he might rely on someone else–that he would ever need someone to know his heart, that he might be cowed and tamed like a dog–

he loves you.

he doesn’t want you to be worried about the surety of his answer.

“yeah,” he says. “i love you.” and when that sudden tightness in your body language disappears, he finally finds the strength to quip, “just don’t faint over me, alright?” 

and when you reach out to hit his shoulder, he grasps you by the wrist and pulls you in to kiss you.

[micahwrites16]

My Love, My Home - Anakin Skywalker

Note: While writing this I imagined y/n as Padme in AotC, but not actually Padme? Like she’s Senator and she’s with Anakin on Naboo, him protecting y/n, but you can picture her however you want. I don’t specifically explain the circumstances of why they’re together, but it’s along the lines of the scene where Anakin confesses, except I write it… a bit differently. Hopefully you understand, lol. It’ll make sense the further you read. Enjoy!

( Also, please bear with me, I’ve never written anything close to this before. Don’t be shy to comment and let me know what you think of it! I’m always open to suggestions. <3 )

TW: really sappy smut, first times!

5.6k words

I always imagined that love was something you earned; something you had to deserve.

Something that I would never be worthy of truly receiving.

And as I watch the Padawan sitting on the velvety, soft sheets of my bed, I feel as though I am shattering my own heart with every second I allow him in my gaze. It’s as if he is reaching his calloused, worn hands into my chest and brushing his fingertips against the rapid beating of it. One more millimeter and he could crush my life without a second thought. And even though he was the one who tore apart my skin, it was his hand preventing me from bleeding out. Sometimes I can’t help but feel grateful, which is a very clear sign that I lost my sanity long ago.

I am in front of him and I do not pull away. I don’t want to.

I have never felt fear quite like it.

Although Anakin’s hand is not quite in my chest, it might as well be. A measly twelve inches separates us, his eyes searching into me farther than I have managed to explore myself. His lips move as words leave them, but I don’t know what. I’m embarrassed to admit that the sight of someone’s lips can distract me so easily. I know those aren’t just anyone’s lips, however.

“Y/n?”

My eyes snap back up to his, his eyebrows scrunched softly in confusion as he waits for me to answer.

“Hm?”

“Force,” Anakin laughs and shakes his head, resting his elbows on his knees. The laugh isn’t of amusement, that I can tell. “You aren’t even listening to me.”

“What? Yes, I am. I just have a lot on my mind. Keep talking. I promise I’ll listen,” I reassure him. He laughs again, the sound not warming me like it usually would. His head falls into his hands, his teeth shining as he smiles. “Anakin,” I urge, “come on. I’m listening, I swear.”

“Are you?” He turns his head to look up at me, his smile gone and something swirling madly in his eyes.

“Yes.”

“Alright. Then, what did I say?”

I pause for a moment, searching my brain and hoping that I subconsciously picked up his words. It’s not that I was ignoring him on purpose, that’s never the case. I was just preoccupied with other strange things happening inside of me. “You know what, never mind. It was nothing, anyways.” Anakin stands up quickly from my bed and I rise with him. “It’s late and you should sleep. I’ll be in the bedroom across from you.”

“No,” I grab his arm softly through his Jedi robe as he moves to walk away. I’m not letting him run away this time. “Don’t do that, Ani. Just tell me what you were saying. I can tell it’s important.”

His eyes lock on where I am touching him, his lips parting slightly. He seems frozen, lost in something that I cannot grasp. Suddenly, Anakin’s eyebrows furrow again, ripping his arm away from my hand. His eyes meet mine again, fire and so many other emotions stirring in them. “No. You don’t do that, y/n.” Confusion washes over me, the slightest bit of hurt emanating from his face and bouncing off my heart. His voice quiets, a darkness along with a familiar softness coating his words. “I am in agony and you don’t even seem to realize.” Anakin steps closer to me, his neck craned so he can meet my eyes. He’s so close and I am frozen. I feel his breath against my lips, his gaze against mine.

“Ani..”

“Can you not see how I am feeling? How I am practically begging on my knees for you to even look at me?” His voice is so low and I think my brain is short-circuiting and force, all it would take is the slightest movement for his nose to brush against mine. “You are the one instance I allow myself to feel anything at all, y/n. I couldn’t stop myself if I tried. And every moment that I am not with you, the worse my agony gets. It’s as if I am being torn apart. You are in my very soul, tormenting me. Every beat of my heart is throbbing for you, and I feel helpless.” He sounds so wounded, so seeking. “What can I do? I will do anything you ask.”

I am not usually at a loss for words. The thoughts in my head are cloudy and I feel dazed, almost as if my brain is trying to protect me from hearing what he is saying. I would rather die than allow that. Before Anakin, I had never let myself get attached to anyone or anything. I have duties that force me to be strong, independent. But he has sucked me in, and if I were to rid myself of him, he would take a large part of my person with him.

He looks into me like he’s searching for something, anything, and the pounding in my chest is increasing with every second of it. How are we both so blind to each other? He says that I do not see his feelings for me, yet he doesn’t see what I feel for him, either.

“I will get on my knees and beg for you, for any part of you, if that’s what you would like. Any part of you that you allow me to have I will worship. I already do.”

I have never felt the need to touch him more than I do now. I want to give him everything he’s asking for and more. I want to give everything that I have, everything I am, to him. I’ve been wanting that for far too long.

But I can’t.

“Anakin, we can’t do this,” I say quietly. I want to, I scream internally. I want to so, badly. “I’m Senator and you’re about to be a Jedi. We would ruin everything.” Nothing in his expression changes and I feel as though I am not doing a great job of convincing him, or myself.

“So you do feel something.” The corner of his mouth twitches just the slightest bit and I immediately curse myself for giving him hope for something that I can’t give him. “I don’t care about any of that. We can keep it between us and now that I know you feel anything, even the slightest bit for me, I will not stop. I won’t be able to. I will die trying to earn anything you will give me.”

He hesitantly reaches his hand to cup my the side of my face, his thumb stroking softly over my cheek. Am I dying?

“Don’t hide from what you feel. Don’t hide from me, because I cannot take it. I do not deserve you, I know that. But I will spend the rest of my life trying to. Don’t allow stupid, worthless rules to get in between this. In between us.”

Any resolve that I had before has now been thrown out the window. His voice is so gentle and pleading and an exact mirror of something that has been lurking inside of me since the last time I can remember. His thumb that is caressing my face is bleeding into me, filling my blood with a mixture of overwhelming fire, softness, and need.

“Anakin..” I close my eyes, fighting off my desires the best that I can. If I give in, everything will be destroyed.

“I won’t let anything happen to you, y/n. I will not let myself be your ruination.”

I want to fall. I want to lose myself in his deep, promising, dark blue eyes and never resurface. The longer I feel his touch the more I know that I am gone and I am not coming back.

And as I come to the realization that I will never be safer than where I am right now, that I will never be with someone who makes my heart pound as much as Anakin does, I lean closer.

I’m so close to him that I can see every individual blonde eyelash, every slight and rapid movement of his eyes as they flicker from my eyes to my lips. The only thing I see is Anakin. The only thing I know is Anakin.

Everything around us is still, as though even time has paused for us. The only sound is our soft breathing hitting each other’s lips, the crickets halting their chirping and leaving us in a loud bubble of quiet. He brushes his nose against mine, my breath hitching in my throat and my chest rising and falling harder with every second. Every action from him is small and hesitant, testing how I react.

My hand reaches forward, resting on the plane of his chest. He responds by snaking his fingers into my hair, tilting my head just the slightest bit, and causing my lips to brush against his just the smallest amount. A warm tingle flows through my body as I meet his eyes again. This time, there’s a question in them.

As an answer, I seal my lips against his.

I’m enveloped in a world of tenderness and warmth that I have never known before. As he just barely moves his lips against mine, I feel my heart shifting inside of me, flowing through the movements of my mouth. The first few moments are gentle, discovering. The next few are devouring.

He kisses me as if I was the last thread of life he was holding on to. As if I was the only light in a galaxy of darkness. In a planet of complete, utter beauty and peace, I have never felt so overpowered and overwhelmed. His lips are soft, searching into the deepest part of my soul.

He was wrong. I am not tormenting him, he is tormenting me.

Anakin tilts my head further, his tongue tracing my bottom lip and begging for entrance. I greedily let him in, wanting him to know places of myself that no one else has ever discovered. He sweeps in, tasting, caressing, and destroying me from the inside out. I trail my hand from his chest into his hair, my tongue now tangling with his, begging for as much of him as he now has of me.

A low groan rumbles through his throat, and I feel a fire inside of me that I have never known so intense than at this moment. His other hand grabs my hip, both of us stumbling back so he’s against the wall.

Anakin, Anakin, Anakin.

Anakin is now all that I know, and now that I have him, I don’t think I will ever be able to let go.

He kisses my lips until they’re swollen and pink. Until the room is no longer filled with silence, but the sound of his soft rasps and my small whimpers that I cannot stop from leaving.

Anakin’s hands are everywhere. My waist, the curve of my hips, my thighs, my hair, the sides of my face. It’s like he’s taking every bit of me insatiably, almost like he’s afraid I won’t let him do this again. This is all I’ve ever craved, Ani. This is everything I will ever need.

He groans again as I nip at his bottom lip, the sound stirring something deep inside of me. A fire is burning, and I don’t think it will ever be stopped. His lips move from mine to my jaw and down to my neck, sucking and tasting and torturing. I press my chest against him, needing to feel more. Needing more.

“Ani,” I moan, his mouth latching onto my collarbone. He lifts his head, his lips just as puffy as mine. He’s so, so, heartbreakingly beautiful.

“Tell me what you need, y/n. I will give you anything you’ve ever wanted. Anything at all.” His breathing is heavy, his chest rising and falling harshly. “You have every,” he kisses under my ear, “single,” he kisses my throat, “inch of me. I am forever yours.”

His pretty words fuel me like nothing else. I’m sinking, falling into an endless abyss of emotion and ruin, of beginning and end and nothing at all, but everything at the same time.

“Everything. All of you,” I beg, and I can’t seem to care that I do. For no man, for no person, I beg. But Anakin Skywalker makes me want and crave things stronger than I ever have before.

My tone isn’t lost on him, his head dropping to rest on my shoulder. “You can’t say things like that, y/n. You destroy me.”

“I mean it. Don’t reject me now, Anakin.” My voice drops to a whisper, vulnerability hitting me harder than I would like to admit, “Please.” I am yearning for a touch that can only be fulfilled by him, and by the madness spiraling in his eyes, I can tell he feels the same way. I brush my lips against his, communicating something that I can’t say with words.

His head rises from my shoulder, his eyes softer than I have ever seen them before. They’re bright and shining with a million unspoken promises that I could adventure in forever. Comparing them to the moons and the stars that surround us would be an understatement of the complete and torturous beauty that they hold, and the fact that they are focused on me makes my intestines swirl and my stomach warm.

“I will never hurt you,” Anakin breathes, his fingers tracing the edge of my jaw. “I adore you more than you could ever imagine.”

My breathing comes out shaky, my legs trembling softly. I have never wanted to hide as much as I do now, to shy away from the intrusion of Anakin searching into me so deeply. I am scared to my core.

But, I also don’t think my heart has ever been in safer hands before.

“I believe you,” I murmur against his lips. Something passes through his face, an emotion deeper than I can understand, yet.

“Will you let me take care of you, then?”

“Yes.”

Anakin immediately scoops me into his strong arms, holding me like I am glass in his hands. He kisses my forehead tenderly, walking over to my bed and dropping me on it softly. I watch intently as he steps back, me following his every move as he works to take off his belt. His eyes are burning into my skin, but I don’t care. I am mesmerized by every inch of that he uncovers. He has sucked me in and now I am forever locked in the depths of Anakin Skywalker’s heart.

He unravels the many layers of his Jedi Robe until the tanned, sculpted plane of his chest is revealed. I drink him in like I am dying of thirst. I can’t bring myself to be ashamed of my eagerness. How can someone be so perfect? I would be irritated if I weren’t absolutely overcome with adoration and desire for this boy.

He walks forward, climbing onto the bed and hovering over me. I absorb every detail of his bare skin, the small, old scars that litter his chest and abs, the newer ones that stand out more than the others. Every detail is beautiful.

“If you keep staring at me like that y/n, this will be over before it even starts.”

My eyes snap back up to his, my cheeks warming at his insinuation and the fact that I was so obvious. “I’m sorry,” I mutter. My stomach squirms uncomfortably, a mixture of scorching heat and fluttering butterflies making me blush further.

His lips curl into a familiar smile, full of soft amusement. “Don’t be nervous,” he says gently, reading my expression. “I’m just as anxious as you. More, even,” He connects our lips again, the heat inside of me flaring. “I’ll make you feel good, I promise,” he assures me and rests his hands on the side of my hips. “You are everything I have ever dreamed of.”

I bring his lips against mine again, this time more urgently. I need him so badly I feel like I am going to burst into a million pieces. His hands eagerly explore every curve of my body, his fingers fumbling with the zipper on the back of my black dress, revealing that he might truly be as nervous as I am. “Is this okay?” Anakin asks as he slowly unzips me.

“More than okay,” I murmur against his lips, greedily attaching my mouth back to his. I touch every bit of his naked skin, feeling every possible thing that I can. Anakin pulls away as he slips my dress down, his eyes devouring me as more skin is uncovered.

“Force, you are so beautiful. So unbelievably perfect.”

I shiver as he brushes his fingertips against my collarbone, down the valley in between my breasts, across the rest of my torso, and pausing on my thighs. His eyes lock onto my black lace panties, and the amount of heat in his expression makes me want to run away and climb on top of him at the same time. His pink lips are parted and there’s a small blush that lines his cheeks and neck, causing him to look more ethereal than he usually does.

Anakin leans his head down, gently sucking on the skin of my lower abdomen. I gasp softly, my fingers running through his short curls as he continues mapping my skin with his lips. He looks up at me as he slides his hand beneath my back, finding the clasp of my bra. I nod, him immediately unclasping it and slipping the straps off of my shoulders.

I see the exact moment his eyes turn from bright, shining blue into pools of darkness as he looks at my completely bare skin. He curses under his breath, the sound hitting me deep in my core. His lips quickly move from my abdomen to my breasts, locking onto the sensitive skin of my nipple. I feel as though I could burst right then and there.

“Akakin,” I whimper, the stimulation he’s giving me affecting me more than I thought was possible. He kisses and sucks and worships me with his mouth, every flick of his tongue and movement of his mouth sending me higher than I’ve ever been. An overwhelming wave of need washes over me and out of pure instinct my hips push upwards, causing me to grind my softness against his hardness. He groans abruptly and I decide then and there that I will be trying to earn that sound from him for the rest of my life.

He starts grinding his hips against mine as he torments my sensitive skin with his lips, noises leaving both of our mouths relentlessly.

More, more, more, I need more.

It’s almost as if he hears my thoughts, him pulling away just for a moment to fumble with his trousers. He doesn’t even bother unbuttoning them, instead ripping them open and causing a couple of the buttons to fly off. Neither of us cares. I pull his lips back to mine, helping him pull them down. He quickly throws them across the room, leaving both him in only his briefs and me in only my panties.

“Need you,” he rasps, “so badly it hurts.”

“Then take me, Anakin. I’m all yours.”

“Oh, fuck,” he whines as his hips buck against mine.

I’m on fire. I’m engulfed in flames, my body pulsing and thrumming with desire that has been boiling inside of me for far too long. I reach for his briefs, pulling them down quickly.

Oh, Force.

I must have said that out loud. A grin appears on his lips as he watches me stare at him, absolutely dumbfounded. He must have been sculpted by a god. Sparks of straight lava go off in my lower stomach,something inside of me tightening. Despite that, worry shoots through me.

I can’t handle that.

“You can take it. I know you can. I’ll be so gentle, I promise, y/n,” Anakin says softly. How can I possibly burn even hotter than before? “I’ll take such good care of you.”

Anakin’s POV:

I have never been in so much pain–so much pleasure–one time in my life. Desire is coursing through my blood, causing every inch of my body to ache. To ache for her.

As I hook my digits in her panties, I watch every shift in her expression. If there were even the slightest bit of doubt or regret, I would never forgive myself for making her feel that. As much as I have dreamt of this, fantasized about every small thing we could do, the last thing I would want to happen is for me to make her uncomfortable. I couldn’t stand myself if I did.

But as I look into her eyes, I don’t even see the slightest bit of hesitation. I see desire that is just as intense as mine, passion, and trust.

I pull her down her panties slowly, forgetting how to breathe. I’ve forgotten how to function.

So insanely perfect.

During the nights when want coursed through my mind, when I would think of her at the latest hours and in the naughtiest, sinful ways, I never could have imagined her so breathtaking. I was never even close.

I must be in heaven.

Hell, likely.

Her chest rises and falls quickly, the sight of her full breasts and peaked nipples sending me into complete overdrive. I trail my eyes lower, making sure to drink in every bit of skin. I spread her legs slowly, my gaze locking on to her bare core.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Hold it together.

I run my hands up her thighs, not looking away from the sight of her open wide for me. For me. I kiss the inside of her thigh, moving closer and closer to where I yearn to be.

“So pretty. So fucking pretty,” I murmur, kissing higher and higher.

“Anakin- Ani, please.” She hooks her fingers in my hair and I almost lose it. Her voice is so pleading, so soft, so full of heat. Please. She could ask me anything like that and I would do it. If she asked me to kill a whole army of men I would do it and I’d do it gladly. Fuck the Jedi code, she is what I obey now.

“Please what, y/n?” I ask lowly as she pulls me back up to her face, my body hovering directly over hers. My nose brushes against hers, our breaths mingling together. I can feel the heat radiating from her core against me and I genuinely have no idea how I haven’t completely lost it yet.

“You. I need you, now, Ani.” She grinds her hips up against mine, her drenched cunt brushing against my cock. I make a broken noise, my head falling against her shoulder. I’m gone. Absolutely gone.

“Anything. I’ll give you anything,” I pant. I force myself to look at her, softening my eyes. “You’re sure you want to do this? I wasn’t- this wasn’t what I was planning to happen. You don’t have to do this, y/n.”

I’ve never wanted anything more. Not only to have all of her but to give her all of me. I’ve been hers for a long time. I can wait longer for her to be mine if that’s what she needs. I’ll wait forever. From the moment I met y/n, I didn’t belong to myself. I belonged to her. My heart hasn’t been my own for quite a while and nothing would change whether she wanted to do this with me or not.

“I want to. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” She kisses my cheek and I practically melt into a puddle in her hands. I am at her complete mercy.

My forehead drops against hers, my hand moving to rest on her hip. I let out a shaky breath, positioning myself up to her core, but not allowing myself to touch her yet.

“Tell me to stop at whatever time, okay? If it hurts I want you to tell me to stop.” She nods and kisses me softly, my heart beating so fast I’m sure she can hear it.

“I trust you more than anyone,” she whispers against my lips and kisses my shoulder, and I would probably fall to my knees by the sweetness of it if I were standing.

I look down at where our hips are inches apart, grabbing my base and sliding myself up at down her heat, both of us shivering deeply at the feeling.

This is going to be over far too fast.

I meet her eyes one final time, looking for any indication she wants to stop. All I see is an intense look of heat and adoration, that I’m sure is on my face just the same.

I line myself up, unable to look away from our hips so closely together. I find a hard time believing this is real, even though I’m feeling everything so intensely. Being here, being like this with y/n might be the death of me. I’d be lucky to die like this. I’d thank the god that allowed me to be so close to her, only if it were for one time.

Both of us take one deep breath as I shift forward, taking that final movement to push myself all the way into her.

And then my world is shattered.

Y/n’s POV:

Anakin falls forward, his forehead resting against mine as he connects us completely. A choked noise falls from Anakin’s mouth, a noise so wonderful I would do anything to hear it again. I hold on to him like I’m dying because I think that I am.

He doesn’t move, letting me adjust to the new feeling. The truth is, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to adjust to this. I feel so incredibly, overwhelmingly filled.

The first thing I feel is fullness, the next, sharp, stinging pain.

It’s a kind of pain that I would go through over and over again.

“Are you all right?” Anakin asks, his voice so full of worry it makes my insides go even crazier than before.

I take a deep breath, the pain slowly subsiding into something else. Something more intense. “Yes,” I plead, “you can move.”

Anakin stays still for another moment, before pulling all the way out of me and then plunging back in. My face twists, a completely indescribable feeling hitting me so hard I lose my breath. My mouth opens into a small “o” shape, small whimpers leaving my mouth as he moves slowly.

He’s being so gentle I could cry if I weren’t on the brink of exploding into a million small pieces.

He brings his lips down to mine, searing me in a kiss that could end worlds, create entire galaxies. As he continues to move, the pain fades away, bleeding into pleasure so extreme it’s like he’s sucking my soul out of my body and pushing it back in over and over again.

The noises that fall from his mouth I’m sure were sent from heaven just like the rest of him. Some of them are deep and guttural and sometimes when my body tightens around his, a small, whiny sound leaves his lips, each and every one causing pleasure to spike through me.

“You feel so f-fucking perfect. So tight. I can’t- fuck,” he groans loudly as my cunt clenches around him. It’s like my body is trying to trap him inside of me, like it’s trying to prevent him from ever leaving. He’s practically molding himself into me with how much I’m being stretched, my walls constricting and tightening with every deep thrust.

“Ani, so- so full,” I moan, my fingers hooking into his short curls, my eyes not being able to leave the sight of him thrusting in and out of me.

“I know, I know. You’re taking me so well, doing such a good job, y/n.”

If I didn’t know for sure that Anakin was a virgin before this, I wouldn’t have ever believed he was. It’s like he knows exactly what spots to hit, how hard to go, and what will make me spiral.

Full is now not the right word. Complete is.

I watch his face as he looks at where his cock is impaling me over and over again, a complete look of awe on his face. His lips are parted and his eyebrows are scrunched, everything indicating that he’s in just as intense a state of pleasure that I am, maybe even more so.

His hand snakes in between our bodies, his thumb reaching my clit and pressing softly. My eyes squeeze shut, sparks going off and short-circuiting my brain. “Ani- Anakin,” I cry.

“Being so g-good for me. It’s like you were fucking made to take me, y/n,” Anakin groans as he slams his cock into me so deeply I feel like I’m being split in half. My eyes roll back, my back arching instinctively, pulling a sound that’s almost a whimper out of Anakin. “Beautiful, so beautiful.”

My pussy clenches around him so tightly I’m almost worried it hurt him, but he makes the loudest, most broken noise that I’ve heard come out of him yet.

“I- I- y/n, I can’t hold on. You feel too good, it’s too much.” His face falls into the crook of my neck, my arms cradling his head softly. He thrusts into me relentlessly while still keeping his movements gentle. I moan loudly into his ear, something in my lower stomach tightening and tightening. “Keep making those pretty noises, y/n. Please.”

The almost begging tone in his voice causes my heart to swell in my chest. He sounds so beautiful. I push my hips up to meet his, creating friction that causes both of us to let out excruciatingly loud moans. “An- Anakin-” His eyes roll back and his hips stutter, his thrusts becoming desperate.

“Fuck, fuck,” He hisses, “you’re squeezing me so fucking tight. Doing so, so amazing.” He rubs his thumb faster against my clit, my mind going completely blank. His groans turn into whimpers as his thrusts get sloppier, him clutching onto my hips so tightly they would probably leave bruises in the morning. I don’t think he realizes it, since he would immediately stop if he did, but I want to have marks. I want to have a reminder of what’s happening right now.

I feel this unexplainable tingling in my abdomen, the pleasure becoming so immense it’s like I could physically snap.

“Come for me, y/n. Let me feel you, okay? You’re safe with me,” he says softly, and the words make the rubberband inside of me tighten. I pull his lips to mine, both of our moans mixing. And as I wrap one of my legs around his back, he slides so deep into me it’s like I can feel him from my face to the bottom of my toes.

“Ani, I’m gonna- I think-” I cry out, sparks of white flashing behind my eyelids and my toes curling.

“Y/n, y/n, y/n,” Anakin pants as he pushes into me one final time.

And then, the world erupts around us.

My eyes squeeze shut, my fingers tightening in Ani’s hair as he slumps on top of me, his face nuzzling into my neck. My mind goes fuzzy, everything turning into a blur around me as I hold on to him for dear life.

Anakin’s body twitches and practically melts into my arms as he fills me to the brim, his hips still moving in and out softly, riding us through our insanely intense highs.

“Anakin, oh, force,” I whimper.

“I know. I know,” he mumbles into my neck. He presses soft kisses on my throat and collarbone, rubbing my hips with his thumbs softly. He pulls back after letting us catch our breath, a sudden look of worry on his face. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“It was perfect, Ani. Don’t worry, okay? You were so, so perfect,” I reassure him, kissing his jaw.

I notice the hint of vulnerability in his eyes and I bring my lips to his softly, wanting to wish away every bit of his insecurity. “You’re everything I’ve ever dreamed of,” Anakin whispers against my lips,

“You’re my love. My home.”

Note: I really hope this isn’t super insanely boring, lol. This was my first time ever writing smut or anything like this at all, so don’t go too hard on me! Anyway, I hope you enjoyed! If anyone has any suggestions on things you want me to write, I’d be happy to do it. <3

[what-gs-watching]

“You’re getting the fuck of a lifetime, tonight.”

OKAY friends. As we all well know by now, I am, and have been, utterly devoted to David Tennant in all forms for a long time. The man is incredible. He’s everything. He can do no wrong. 

So I was obviously out of my mind excited about Rivals. Have I read the book? No. Should I probably have joined the GOAD subreddit book club to understand what I was getting into? Yeah, absolutely. But I did not.

Y’all. Does anyone else feel personally victimized by this show? Show of hands? No? Am I just a sensitive bitch right now? Fair.

I should have expected that David Tennant’s character was a true creep because I know he likes to mix it up, that’s on me, but I did not expect to feel so many WAYS about things. Wasn’t this supposed to be like a fun, sexy romp set in the 80’s wherein I could just shake my head at British people being british?

I really came into this show knowing basically nothing. I definitely need to stop doing that.

AKA, wherein a bunch of pompous Brits living in the Cotswolds fuck each other’s wives or husbands or neighbors or WHOEVER and fight over who should control the local television rights - David Tennant’s insanely charismatic and crazy manipulative Lord Tony Baddingham, or intrepid Irish interviewer Declan O’Hara and unlikely ally MP and former olympian Rupert Campbell-Black.

LISTEN, TV, don’t make comments on the difficulties of marriage and love and other things, directly into my face. I don’t like it. It makes me squirmy, and I hate you. 

In the beginning, I really did not like Rupert and was yelling about him being a fucking creep, and I was letting Lord B off the hook for some of his weirder behavior but wooooof, what a journey those eight episodes take you on. I do appreciate character growth, or also, I guess, character…descent? Because Tony absolutely fucking unravels. 

Something about absolute power corrupting absolutely?

Also, there are a ton of characters in this thing. And I’m obviously gonna fixate on Lord B but I have to be honest, Lizzie, neighbor to the O’Hara’s and wife of one of the tv personalities at Tony’s station, is my favorite part of this entire tapestry. She writes saucy novels and she’s underappreciated in her little life and she raises her kids and has an adorable best friend relationship with Rupert (which definitely helped me soften to him) and I connected with her way more than I should have.

She tries so hard to get her husband to pay her attention. She really wants to feel like he cares about her, that he thinks she’s worthy, and he never gives it to her. BUT then she meets Freddie, awkward tech magnate, and y’all. Their adorable, bumbling interactions are everything. He runs after a train when she leaves the chapters of her new book the train! He appreciates the hell out of her, and she does the same for him, because his wife is equally neglectful. 

I don’t think I’ve ever rooted so hard for someone to have an affair in my life. She deserved to get absolutely everything she wanted. We all do. And I don’t appreciate being EXPOSED like that. 

Anyway. We obviously can’t get into every single random storyline here, so we’re gonna hit the highlights, lightning round style.

I do really like Declan, and his relationship with his wife was interesting - she’s an actress so she’s always going to be dramatic but he seemed like he knew how to handle her, and I appreciated the passion they had together. I don’t love how they ended up, you can see he really does love her, but she doesn’t want to compete against his work for his affections. I get it. But like girl, you gotta give a little? But also, that shit is hard. Their relationship seemed like one of the realest, for sure. 

What I could not bring myself to be okay with, was Taggie’s (Declan’s 20 year old daughter) feelings for Rupert. I’m sorry y’all, no. Like, sure, Rupert becomes more of a person throughout the show and I appreciate that and I get that he maybe hasn’t ever really loved anyone but I’m not gonna sign up for the love story between the two of them. And usually I’ll sign up for anything. But I just can’t, I’m not sure why. It just still feels predatory to me. 

Will I eat those words if they make a season two? I suppose we shall see.

And now, Lord B. Tony-fucking-Baddingham. Foolishly at the start I was like, maybe he does care about his very typical, dowdy english wife. She looks very salt of the earth and sure it’s surprising she’s not young and hot but man, they seem to work well together, they get each other. What’s gonna go down here? 

And then just kidding, he’s fucking Cameron Cook, the American female producer he hired to create amazing television for Corinium. Because of course he is. He does seem to think she really is brilliant, but he wants to control that and own it and he somehow convinces himself he loves her? But the man is a sociopath. And I spent like, the final three episodes yelling “GIRL, he’s gonna try to murder you, like for real tho…”

But then he does shit like dancing with her at a restaurant while crooning along to a stripped down version of “Love is a Battlefield” and I’m like, maybe he contains multitudes? But he doesn’t! There’s no fucking hesitation in any of the terrible shit he gets up to. That sweetness is purposeful. It’s gross and it’s mesmerizing. 

Bless Georgia Tennant for convincing him to take this role. I hate it, and it’s wonderful.

Also, big fucking props to the way his proper wife lays down the law in the last episode. (Side rant: early on I was like ‘does he ever fuck his wife?’ and he does, and it’s so awkward, bless her. I get it babe, I really do). But she met her fucking limit and she didn’t shy away from it. We need more women standing up for themselves. Cameron does to a degree, but Monica is the true MVP in this mess. 

I think the worst part about this show is that it ends abruptly, honestly. You don’t get a lot of closure, everything is still up in the air and there’s a serious fucking cliffhanger and now I’m just mad and weirdly turned on and again, feeling a lot of ways about things. It’s very “thanks, I hate it.” 

Let’s be real, I showed up to this thing so I could ogle David Tennant in a new way. And I definitely got that - those fucking cigars! And the suits! That gorgeous, predatory smile! But I also got a lot more. I’m infuriated and confused and I need season two immediately. 

After all, Lord B did promise that he’d continue to make television we want. And even if he’s a horrible, terrible bastard, I’m gonna believe that.

Bonkbuster indeed.

[mint-yooxgi]

Yearning - Yandere!Phoenix!Mingi

Yandere AU & Phoenix AU - First Person POV

Genre: Mature, Smutty Themes, Internal Monologue

Pairing: Mingi X Implied Chubby!Reader

Words: 1,710

Warnings: Implied stalking, and dirty thoughts. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: Felt like getting this out tonight, so I hope you all like it!! Again, I feel like these are tamer than what I originally had in mind, but some of them are going in a different direction than I though. Hehehe, I don't know, I still like them! Feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!~

The Fourth of The Feral Drabbles

You’re a strange one, aren’t you? You don’t let anyone get close to you, do you? At least, not really.

I’ve seen the way you shy away from their touches. It’s like you know that they don’t deserve you, just as I do. Only I should get to caress your delicate skin. Only I should get to touch you. Your body is a canvas meant to be painted by me, and me alone.

You know that already, don’t you?

You’ve seen me watching you. I know you have. I’m much more in tune to your reactions than you think, especially when heat is involved.

Perhaps that’s just the way I’ve always been. Or maybe, perhaps, that’s just the effect you have on me. Either way, I always make sure to watch you carefully. I want to know your every reaction to everything, so I can replicate the good ones as desired. I want you to see me in a good light all of the time. There’s no room for error. Not when you are involved.

I can never help myself when it comes to you. I always want to know where you are, and who you’re with. I long to know what you’re doing, and especially how you’re feeling at all times. It drives me crazy not being able to be by your side at all hours of the day. Watching you isn’t enough, I need to be with you, and I want you to need me, too.

You’re guarded, that much I can tell. I mean, you certainly live up to your nickname of Ice Princess, wouldn’t you say? You hardly give anyone the time of day. It’s as if no one is worth your time.

Good. They don’t deserve you, anyways. At least you know how much value your life has, and how important you are.

I wouldn’t expect anything less from my twin flame.

I want you to know, that I am worthy. I will make myself worthy.

I have a theory: you don’t give anyone the time of day because the treat you like a princess. 

It’s the princess part, isn’t it? You long to be treated like the Queen you are, don’t you?

You don’t have to worry much longer, My Queen, a fitting King is on his way.

You know, my kind… we mate for life. We’re extremely territorial and possessive of our mates, especially once we’ve imprinted. You’re lucky I haven’t had a chance to court you yet, otherwise those friends of yours… well, let’s just say ‘burnt to a crisp’ would be putting it lightly.

They don’t care for you. I’ve seen the jealousy in their eyes when you turn away from them. They always want what you have, and they hate how effortlessly it comes to you. You’re too smart for them. Too beautiful. Too desirable.

I must admit, taking out my competition lately has been a bit difficult, but I’ve made tremendous progress this past month alone. You’re even acknowledging me on your own, and going out of your way to start conversations with me! I knew playing it cool would work - that seems to be the type of people you’re drawn to. None of this loud and boisterous displays of passion some people attempt to smother you in.

I have to admit, though, there are times where I wish I could scream my love for you from the rooftops. I want everybody to know how much you mean to me, and to be jealous that only I can have you, and only you can have me. 

I’m not blind, I see the way your friends look at me when you all walk passed. I hear them whisper as their heated stares lock onto my figure. I know I’m desirable, too.

The only one I care about, though, is you.

Oh, how I revel in your gaze when I feel you looking at me. Honestly, it’s embarrassing how much I preen myself just for you. I’ll admit, my posture has never been the greatest, until I met you.

It’s almost comical how obvious I can be; my friend tease me about it all the time. My kind, we’re not subtle in our ways, but either you don’t notice, or you choose not to.

Perhaps you don’t want to believe I could ever fall for someone like you…

Is this why you don’t let anyone get close to you? Because you’re afraid of getting hurt?

Well, My Little Dove, you don’t have to be afraid any longer. I will never hurt you, because I will never leave you. I only want you, and I will only ever want you.

Do you want to know the dangers of my love for you? It’s a little thrilling, isn’t it? To know that there’s always risks when it comes to love. At least, I find it amusing, and once you feel the same as I do, I know you will, too.

See, my kind, as I said before, we mate for life. But, not just this life. 

Every life.

Our love is reborn through the ashes with each incarnation. No matter how far apart we are, or who we are, we will always find each other. That’s what it means to love a Phoenix.

Once an imprint, always an imprint. Nothing can change that.

My heart is yours. It burns for you. It yearns for your cold touch to quell the flames that have long since kindled the fires of my passion for you. I am devoted to you in every way imaginable. You just don’t know it, yet.

I desire you, My Dove. I have desired you from the very first moment I heard you utter my name. Never has it sounded so pure, so perfect falling from any other’s lips but your own. It was meant to be yours. I was made to be yours, and you were always meant to be mine.

Fuck, I want to know what my name sounds like falling from your lips after I’ve kissed you breathless. I want to wrap you in my embrace and ignite that same spark of desire in you that has always burned within me for you. I want to feel you gripping at my hair, pulling me in closer to you as you cling to my body as I light the fires of my passion upon your own.

Fucking tug on my roots as you pull me back into your core for more. I want to feel you dripping down my chin, suffocating me with your luscious thighs as I get lost in your pussy for hours. Let me make a beautiful mess of your cunt, lick it clean, and then do it all over again, and again, and again.

I want you to moan for me, like I’m your one and only salvation, and you’ll find rapture in my every touch. I want our breaths to become one, never knowing where one ends and the other begins. I want to taste you until I become drunk on everything you have to offer, and then I want to drown you in an ecstasy so deep you’ll never want to come back up for air.

I want my touch to sear across every dip and curve of your skin, so that you feel my desires for you even when we’re apart. If you cannot feel my love for you by the time we’re done, I haven’t finished fulfilling my duties of your perfect lover. By the time I’m finished with you, my name will be the only thing on your lips, my body the only thing you can feel, and my devotion to you the only thing on your mind. 

And your heart…

Your heart will be mine.

Long have I desired to burn my mark on your heart, just as I know you’ve already branded mine. I will accept no other. I cannot.

My greatest desire, though, is far tamer than any of this. Yet, it is probably the most significant. The most intricate and intimate of experiences I could offer you.

I want to show you my wings.

I want to show you my wings, and watch as that wondrous expression of yours lights up your face. I want to see you in awe of the colours, and the contrasting feathers which are quite plush and so delicate to the touch. I want to watch you reach out to feel them, but hesitate slightly, unsure of if you should or not, and then I want to smile and nod at you, encouraging you to fulfill your every desire.

And, oh, how encouraging I would be!

We don’t let just anybody touch our wings, you know. It’s a sacred practice, reserved for the most intimate of lovers.

That’s how much you mean to me. I want to share in that intimacy with you, and only you.

Fuck, and then once you’ve traced the contours of my wings and run your fingers through my feathers, I would make the sweetest love to you. I would hold you so fucking close, whispering how deeply my affection for you lies with every movement I make, my wings on full display as I bring us both to ecstasy together.

I can practically hear the way your voice calls out my name so desperately for me now…

Many nights have been spent playing out this fantasy, but I’m afraid it never fully captures the full effect of the moment. I know it’ll be even more special and intimate when the time comes, and I can only imagine how your delicate hands will feel gripping me, and stroking along my wings during the moment.

Just thinking about it now gets me so sensitive.

You truly have no idea what you do to me.

I just have to get closer to you. You’re starting to open up to me, I can feel it. I’m slowly but surely melting that cold exterior of yours. Or maybe, you’re just cooling me down to your level. We’ll be together soon. We have to be, or else I don’t know just what I might do.

I’ll be wrapping you in my embrace soon enough. 

I’ll make sure you can handle the heat.

[psychelis-new]

pick a pile: "Yes or No?"

take a breath and think about a question of any type; then choose the photo/number that calls you the most to read your answer.

don’t take the reading too seriously. only take what resonates with you and leave the rest. if you're not called by any pile, let this reading slid as it may not hold messages for you. if you're called by more than one, there may be messages in each of those piles. remember that is a general reading and some things may not resonate with you. energies can change and readings are based on present ones (as you read); you're always in charge of your life.

(photos found on unsplash)

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1 2 3 4 5 6

- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 1

answer: yes both if you're asking about a relationship of any type or career, yes. it's time for a change in your situation (mostly so if it's a new/first relationship or job). So take a step back (you're trying to rush things?), breathe, relax, take your time, learn from the past and reach further. don't settle for something you feel it's not for you. you can have what you want, just let it reach you as well and give it/yourself time.

song: nowhere fast (instrumental) | ateller (meditation/introspection highly needed)

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pile 2

answer: maybe (yes) there's something you cannot control in this situation and you just need to let things be and let fate work/trust (prob. a new relationship). things will very likely turn to a better outcome the moment you stop this continuos inner/self battling, find your balance and learn to stand up for yourself (boundaries! don't let others take the best of you, do not gift yourself away: you won't be alone forever).

song: once upon a time | down low

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pile 3

answer: no, atm. I feel you are in pain but for now, you need to work on yourself and find your own happiness and not let it depend on anyone else. be aware of your worth: it doesn't depend on anyone else's opinion of you and... do not give up on your wish anyway. even if this is not the answer you'd like to read, nothing is lost. find your strenght. this is a moment to recollect for you, things will improve after this time. take care, clarity will hit you soon too.

song: lauren | men i trust

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pile 4

answer: maybe there's something you need to learn, also about yourself (it could be your abilities to be more focused/organized or it could be you need to go away/travel). whatever is blocking you or scaring you, challenge it, don't let it stop you from reaching what you want. I feel you already have a feeling, but you don't trust yourself and keep asking for confirmations. let yourself believe by starting to understand you are worthy and deserve what you want (drink your water!).

song: got it in you | banners

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pile 5

answer: yes you may misinterpret your feelings/intuition at times, but that's okay. it happens especially under stress and when our wounded ego comes in between with all their doubts and fears/insecurities. try to take a breath and regain control over yourself (mind). learn how to differentiate your intuition from your false beliefs (intuition is sudden and you have no clue of its reasons, false beliefs come as a reaction and you can find reasons for them). stay positive cause sometimes the bad moments are needed but they pass soon and... keep on dreaming!

song: release | editors

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pile 6

answer: no why do I feel relief though? is this something you're asking something you're kinda worried/scared about? I think so, prolly related to love but not for everyone (career/school too). yeah, your emotions are running high at this time... try to focus on something else. take a moment for you, take a break, rebalance (breathing techniques or meditation are suggested) keep your hopes high and just... let things work out the way they are supposed to. don't worry, don't stress. it's gonna go well.

song: a thousand years | christina perri

[kibblbread]

This is completely aimless and scattered, like more than usual but whatever. Either way it’s just relationship dynamic stuff~ btw pls read the fucking pizza gorl fic —>>> 🍕✨

Random thought but i think exposure therapy might be the best option in aiding Jason to recovery, well, that and gentle coaxing! Jason is very responsive to praise because he’s definitely a people pleaser. I know it might be hard to tell looking at him from a glance; but let’s not be shallow, he gives chance after chance to his loved ones no matter how much they screw him over. He’s simply a lover boy. So I conclude that Jason is a huge people pleaser, and he’s privy to it but ignores himself. He hates digging into his psyche.. it just hurts, poor guy has too many painful memories.

But it’s necessary for healing unfortunately 😔

AK!Jason is extremely.. emotionally.. wrecked. He doesn’t act outside his redhood persona often unless it’s completely necessary— like getting food and supplies, or even to possibly get intel.

At least for a while.

Meeting PG turns his entire world on its head! He’s pretty out of his element as it is while trying to define his persona, the redhood. But PG! Hoo boy— he did not anticipate a partner in crime. A sidekick if you will lol. So essentially his healing process is expedited(just a tad bit); since Jason interacts with his family at a much faster pace than otherwise on his own terms. Dick is very eager to give his younger brother the much needed affection and support that JT deserves but doesn’t want to scare Jason away. So early in the rekindling process, Dick takes a backseat and lets Barbara lead— she’s the voice for not only herself, but Dick & Tim even Alfred for a bit too. Babs knows just what to say and how to say it more often than not! Jason is more relaxed around her than any of his family for a time.

JT’s attitude is still pretty rotten though, he’s suffering so there’s still so much happening within him that slows them down in regaining his trust.

He’ll still snap & even become aggressive toward Barbara if she isn’t cautious and calculated in her approach, which she is, but she’s not a mind reader and can trigger the worst in Jason. However, on the other side of the spectrum, we have pizza. PG seems to never catch any lip, and if she does it doesn’t seem intentional most times— genuine underestimation is the biggest culprit. PG can be reckless, it’s the largest pain point in the fic between these two imo! But you’re not from gotham, you’re truly ignorant, you’re like a second chance to him almost. You don’t know of his sins, not really anyway… A slate as clean as yourself, he’s gotta prove to you he’s not a useless, unworthy, sorry excuse for a person right? He’s gotta prove it to you.

To his family.

To gotham.

No, he doesn’t. But if we are gonna play this game he proved it when he put on his life on the line once as robin, and a second time the moment he decided to become redhood. He’s no less worthy than anyone in reality. Hopefully he’ll see it in this lifetime, but even if he doesn’t, it doesn’t change how you see him and continue to see him. It most definitely doesn’t change how you make him feel either. 🥰 PG is a protective person at heart. She’ll do what she can to help just about any decent human being but especially her loved ones.

Jason sees it. He can feel it too, subconsciously he wants what she wants for him. So he’ll allow her to poke and prod him where he needs to be directed. JT allows a lot from PG actually, from her quick gentle touches to her quips and questioning. He doesn’t take it the same from any of the other bats, when it’s from family it’s nothing short of condescending. Humiliation and anger rises bubbles from his gut straight into his heart. But from you? It’s not something he can quite name.. sometimes it’s annoying, yes, but with you he doesn’t mind feeling insecure as much. You don’t know what insecurity looks like on him just yet so naturally he allows you to suggest things he wouldn’t otherwise acknowledge. The dialogue between you two is allowed to flow freely. To not know Jason’s trigger’s is to not know his anger; which is arguably both a pro and a con.

The closer PG gets to JT the more she sees what he’s capable of.. and how. The why is what she’ll inevitably get to, but how she gets to his truth is much more important. I think PG not being afraid of how Jason will react is her biggest advantage in being so close to him. On the reverse side of things, Jason is more calm because to him, she not antagonistic in his mind. She doesn’t know his past or the extent of JT’s capabilities so why would she, and even if she did, could she? Again I feel JT genuinely underestimates PG as she is a civilian and not held to his impossible self imposed standards. It’s not malicious, he just wants to protect her, his guard is lower than usual which isn’t saying a lot because it’s still extremely high. JT is still distrustful don’t get me wrong, but it’s not personal like it is with his family.

When you tell J he did good, that he’s accomplished something, he’s on the moon. PG’s acknowledgment goes such a long way in the never ending void that is his insecurity and self loathing!

On a less abstract level, when it comes to doing, Jason unintentionally gives PG the go ahead to start pushing his buttons when he inevitably begins clinging to her presence for comfort. For better or for worse, you push many buttons. lol.

“Stay here a bit longer?” Fine, what’s a bit longer?

“Call for back up! We need help!” Im good enough for the job, but maybe some help would be better than none in this instance…

*looks around Jason’s safe house* “Damn bitch you live like this??? Sleepover at my place😝” *complies but serves the most bombastic of side eyes*

The batfam get to see parts of him they haven’t seen before, or at least in a very long time when you two interact in front of them. Jason is still largely argumentative, but thats how it stays surprisingly, he doesn’t boil over and actually backs down or bites his tongue. Which is.. shocking to say the least. Dick & Babs take note of the more true extent of his patience and how willingly he’ll hear your suggestions. They’ll take note of how freely you grab his hand and drag him along. They even notice him suspiciously looking in your direction for prolonged periods while your back is turned. Hmmm very note worthy indeed. Jason is all too aware but doesn’t know what he can do about without you noticing his clear change in demeanor. But quite a few of his new habits fly under his own radar when it comes to being around PG!

He’s less jumpy for one.

Jason isn’t at all more confident in his abilities since he’s still crippled with anxiety and a lot of self doubt but, he’s really focusing on monitoring and guiding you. JT is teaching you to work smarter, teaching you how the streets of gotham work. And above all else making sure PG can keep herself safe! He’s firm and direct, sometimes even sounding like the commander of a militia 🤭 I like to think sometimes he reverts accidentally. Jason also tends to stay close to PG. Most times it’s unintentional but others he’s just watching out for you. You give him a lot of good vibes and reassurance and JT just naturally finds himself hovering over to where you are. Like him and D are side by side on a rooftop, then all the sudden he’s breathing down your neck because you decided sitting on the ledge of a building was cool like a dumbass. But the most notable of all these habits is how much he allows your touch; JT doesn’t squirm away from you either, he stays put. PG will touch his shoulder in gentle support or give his hand a quick tap to pull his attention.

Barbara finds this behavior interesting, Dick thinks it’s adorable but is lowkey in his feelings about it.

Lol

I think thats it for now…

thank u for reading my post bestie 🍕🤪

[salty-croissants]

Rayman/Ramon x anxious fem reader

Thank you @cutegamertv for the request ! I couldn’t seem to find it in my inbox , so I had to use the screenshot I took … sorry for the inconvenience , I don’t know why this happens :,I

Anyway I’ve actually been feeling a bit down these days , so writing this type of comfort scenario really helped a lot :,)👍

Hope it turned out okay ! 

Details : use of female reader ;

established relationships ; 

no warnings needed 

Rayman 🧡

Let’s make one thing clear : Rayman would do anything to make sure that you’re comfortable and happy at all times , and if you ever get the feeling that you’re bothering him by being anxious ? 

Well , he definitely won’t just stand by and watch his beloved even think about such things . 

< y/n , my love , look at me … 

You are , without exaggeration , the most important person in my life : you could never , ever be a burden to me . > 

< But … I know you’re busy , you have so many things to keep track of and I’m … I’m making you waste time over something so … dumb … > 

< Darling , you are much more important to me than anything else .

You’re what helps me keep going every day … the least I could do is be there for you when you need it . > 

If you’re one who gets especially anxious in public spaces , you can bet that Rayman will be coming with you , holding your hand if it helps you feel more at ease or simply staying by your side until you both get back home . 

And if someone says something mean spirited about you , they will quickly be confronted by your very protective boyfriend . 

< How about you leave my y/n alone , pal ? 

Back off ! > 

If you ever were to tell him that you don’t feel worthy of being with someone like him , Rayman is going to be shocked …

He is the lucky one to have someone as amazing as you ! 

Still , you can count on him to have just the right words to comfort you . 

< You are more than enough for me , I wouldn’t want to be with anyone else .

If only I could show you just how beautiful in every way you are to me … > 

Then Rayman always makes sure to shower you with sweet , loving kisses all over your face , as a way to showcase just how much you mean to him : 

you really are his everything ❤️

Ramon 🖤

While he definitely became way more bitter after the events he had to go through , Ramon is still definitely very soft with you , and much like he did in the past he is always looking out for you , making sure you’re okay … 

Also he immediately shuts down any worries you might have about bothering him .

< y/n . There’s literally no way you could ever bother me . 

Don’t even think about that , not for a second . >

< But - > 

< No “buts” . >

Given your fragility , Ramon is going to become even more protective than before over you now , and he won’t hesitate to straight up murder anyone who makes you even a little uncomfortable : 

he won’t accept any compromises , not when your safety is on the line . 

< Everything alright , honey ? I saw that guy approaching you and … > 

< I’m okay Ram , thank you … he was just a bit insistent about getting a drink together , but I’m not hurt or anything , it just … scared me a little . > 

< Tch … well , you can be sure that he won’t think about trying shit like that ever again . > 

< Heh , well you kinda put a bullet through his skull , sweetie … 

That makes it pretty hard for anyone to think . > 

If you bring up the fact that you don’t feel like you’re good enough for him , Ramon will barely even know what to say … 

He feels awful for everything that he allowed Eden to do back when he worked for them , he feels like he doesn’t deserve anything good at all , and certainly not someone like you . The fact that you think that makes him both confused and determined to prove you wrong . 

< y/n , do you have any idea where I would be if I didn’t have you ? 

You literally saved my life : you stuck with me when you knew what I did , you’ve shown me kindness even though I didn’t deserve it … 

If anything , I’m the one who isn’t good enough for you . > 

< Ram don’t say that … you’re amazing and I love you so much … > 

< I love you too sweetheart , I really do … so please , don’t be so hard on yourself , okay ? 

You’re my reason to be alive , I couldn’t go on without you … > 

After all that , you can be sure that Ramon will be cuddling you for hours , demonstrating his seriousness on the matter :

there is no way he will just stand there and watch his beautiful y/n feel like she doesn’t deserve him . 

[yourlocalbadgerscales]

Guys. Albus Dumbledore is a master manipulator and it’s took me so long to realise it. But now that I know it, I feel sick to the stomach.

This topic is talked about a lot, so I’ll only bring up a few things that come to mind right now. Firstly, there’s a scene in Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets that I read the other day, and with a new mindset it’s very difficult to read this one sentence without being a bit suspicious. I can’t give y’all the exact quote, since I only have the books in Swedish, but if anyone has the time to find it in English and put it here in the reblogs, it would be very welcome!

Anyways. In this one particular scene, Dumbledore is talking to Harry after the whole thing in the chamber has already happened, and he mentions Fawkes coming to Harry’s rescue. He tells Harry that the fact that Fawkes came to him meant that Harry must have shown Dumbledore “true loyalty” down there. Or else the bird wouldn’t have arrived in the chamber in the first place.

When I read this, knowing about Dumbledore’s manipulative nature, I was shocked. It’s also mentioned how his eyes “twinkled” after saying this. Harry paid no mind to it, but I will. Because you know what? What kind of sick behaviour is that? Dumbledore knew that something would happen, and he sensed that Harry would be involved in it, and this old man goes “Oh well, I’m only going to help and save this boy if he shows me true loyalty first. If he does, I know he’ll be on my side through and through. If he doesn’t, he’s not worth keeping alive.” This isn’t about you, Dumbledore. It’s about to whole Wizarding World’s safety, and to make sure that Harry’s loyalty for him played a crucial part in Harry’s survival is sick and twisted. Dumbledore made the whole thing about him, again, for no reason whatsoever.

And the worst part for me is: Harry falls for it. Then again, Dumbledore is a manipulator, isn’t he?

It’s well known that Harry feels a constant need to prove himself. Even the Sorting Hat said it (can’t submit this quote either, sadly). After all those years of abuse (a situation that a certain Albus Dumbledore put him in, by the way), Harry does anything to prove himself worthy in front of everyone. So when Albus Dumbledore praises him all the time, saying things like how brave Harry is, how wise for his age he is, how valuable he is… Harry can’t help but be proud, can he? I don’t blame him. Real manipulation does stuff to you (any Harry slander in the replies of this post will be taken care of by me 🫶 Harry my boy deserves the world).

Therefore, it somehow shocks Harry when he realises that other people in the Wizarding World know Dumbledore as closely as himself (or at least how closely he thinks he knows Dumbledore, until later on). And that makes him look like a fool one or two times. One thing Harry doesn’t ever seem to learn, though, is how Dumbledore is like Slughorn in a way. He collects his trophies, and the people he doesn’t like… well, it doesn’t end well for them.

Oh, and also a horrible thing that someone pointed out in another post a looong time ago, that I feel like bringing up again. Because when I read this, it did something to me, and I won’t recover from it in the first place.

Albus Dumbledore did everything, not only to keep Harry alive, like a pig for slaughter, long enough to do what he had to before sacrificing himself… Albus Dumbledore also made sure that Harry’s life was as much of a living hell as it could get, so that when the time came for Harry to go on his suicide mission, he would go willingly.

[artist-issues]

heya, I really like the way you talk about how obsessed media is with centering everything around romance as the ultimate be-all-end-all of a relationship, as well as your love and respect for old pieces of media (I love Anne of Green Gables too!!).

I wanted to ask if you think it’s possible to separate these old pieces of media from their respective societies general views on social issues? If every person creating a piece of art is a product of their time period, is there a way you go about dealing with things like inherent racism / classism / sexism in the work?

Because despite really enjoying old media, I often end up coming up against actions and behavior in fiction that I and my family have had to deal with directly and regularly (for reference, I’m not white lol) in real life, which is often a little exhausting, especially when this behavior is coming from a character that simultaneously holds up values of goodness and kindness and love and respect for all. In these cases it always feels like those values are only directed to people they deem of as worthy of respect, and that anyone that doesn’t fall into this group is subhuman. It’s like this person can decide if a human counts as a human, which feels very human-centric. Why is one group of people allowed to decide if another group deserve to be treated like humans? That feels like a huge amount of power. Shouldn’t only God have control over this and not individual people (and didn’t He already do this when he created humanity?) Anyway that’s some rambling. My main point is that sometimes it’s hard to enjoy a piece of media when I know that the person creating it held beliefs (either unknowingly because everyone around them also held those beliefs, or with the full understanding of how much suffering views like that cause) that are the opposite of my beliefs, and that in some cases disregard my right to freedom and a good life.

This is incredibly rambly and I’m not even sure if what I’m asking makes sense, but I’m curious to know what you think of stuff like this! You’re very articulate and I’ve been enjoying reading through your arguments, they’re surprisingly well thought out! Okay I’m going to stop typing now before I write a novel in your inbox—

Thank you, you’re very kind!

You’re totally right about God and humanity. Every human being is made in the image of God; He gets to decide what they’re worth. Humans don’t.

The short answer (that I’ll inevitably add to with my own rambling) is, “don’t focus on the individual who wrote the story; focus on the truth that’s in the story.”

You might have read one of my posts where I said something like, “when a storyteller tells the story, it’s told. It’s like speaking out loud: once you say something, you can’t take it back. You might not have meant what you said, but you still said it—if your meaning didn’t line up with your words, then you should have been more careful with the words you chose, because you can’t change what you said,” something like that.

The point of that post is: words (and stories) have their own meaning. That’s why it’s so important to choose them carefully.

For example: If Hitler says, “the sky is blue,” even though he’s a monster and a terrible person and clearly wrong about most things, the words he spoke, the sentence “the sky is blue” is still true. It’s a true statement. So you could say, “Hitler is a monster, he’s wrong about most things, you can’t trust him and he shouldn’t be taken as an authority on anything…but he was right when he said “the sky is blue.”” Because at that point, who Hitler is and whether or not he’s credible, or even whether or not he’s right about MOST things, doesn’t change what color the sky is. Truth is truth, no matter who points it out—OR fails to point it out.

So, when someone like a classic author uses their story to say something like: “The truth will set you free,” but then you find out that they were pro-slavery, here’s what you do. You say, “this author was a human being who, like all human beings, had some stuff right, and some stuff wrong. It’s my job to figure out what they got right and what they didn’t get right.” (That’s actually your job with anything anyone tells you.)

Or, to put it simply, like my granny used to say: “Eat the cookie, spit out the nuts.”

And remember, just because you “like the story” doesn’t mean you also “100% agree with everything the storyteller ever said or did in their entire lives.” No. Liking the story means you appreciated that one thing that the storyteller said, for it’s own sake.

Truth is truth. If Louisa May Alcott’s story says, “living a humble life of self-sacrifice is worth more than fame and glory,” but then later I find out that she was racist, guess what? The lesson “living a humble life etc.,” is still true. Maybe she was APPLYING that truth in a really flawed way…but the lesson in the story is still true. Her human imperfections don’t make that lesson untrue. That’s what’s beautiful and terrible about communication, and stories, in general: you can say something, and once it’s said, it stands on it’s own—with or without you.

Point is:

People are wrong. Humans never, ever, see everything in life 100% correctly 100% of the time…and they very rarely communicate life’s truths correctly, either. But…truth is truth, it’s never wrong, and sometimes even an imperfect human can point it out and shine a great light on it for other humans to see.

If you decide that a person has to be right about everything—or maybe they don’t have to be right about everything, but they at least have to be right about very important issues like race and humanity and even religion—before you’ll consider anything they have to say, you’ll find that you can’t consider anything anyone has to say, ever. Because all people are flawed. But even a broken clock is right twice a day. Look for truth—real, objective truth, never mind who’s saying it—and appreciate that. Eat the cookie, spit out the nuts.

It’s fine to celebrate an author, or filmmaker, or director, but honestly, none of them are perfect. None of them have perfect worldviews where they treat everyone in their lives equally and lovingly. So really, you should never have assigned so much importance to the human author in the first place. Assign that importance to truth, instead.

Mild soapbox, kind of unrelated to what I think your question is, below

We keep doing this thing in society where we’re like, “hey, you know that Historically Significant Person we all owe so much to and have celebrated for years because of their Beloved Work? Turns out they were RACIST/SEXIST/AN IMPERFECT HUMAN! You know what that means? Everything we know about them, and their Beloved Work, must BURN.”

And then we throw the baby out with the bath water. Like…like people who make Beloved Works weren’t humans—they were some kind of super-humans—and they should never have had any flaws for us to uncover. Then when we do uncover those flaws, we decide that they must have been wrong about everything, including the Beloved Work. Which makes…no sense.

And, it’s hypocritical. Do you think that in 100 years, kids are going to pick up a book about you and your life, and say, “man, this person was 100% trustworthy and never got anything in life wrong. Anything they wrote, any story they created, is therefore worth enjoying.” No!

The people who lived in the 19th century did not all realize that they were committing historical sins they’d be discredited for in the future. They lived what was, for them, completely normal lives, wallowing in and sometimes even celebrating things that we know were wrong. But just because we know something they never realized does not make us better than them, or able to declare that they were wrong about everything they ever said.

Do you think we’ll be any different than they were? In 2080, don’t you want the younger generation to take the good things you said and the lessons you learned that are true, and just give you grace for any wrongs you committed? Or do you want them to totally discredit you, and your lessons, and your life, when they find out you were doing something that, to you, seemed totally normal?

We’re all imperfect. We’re all wrong sometimes. But truth is never wrong, and sometimes imperfect people can help one another to appreciate perfect truths. It just takes grace, and it takes focusing on truth and celebrating truth, rather than focusing so much on humans and trying to set them up to be super-human.

That’s all. I hope something in that ramble helped. Thanks for the ask!

[fangirlingfromdownunder]

Comfort in Room Service

Summary - Part 24 in the Comfort series

Pairing - Dean Winchester x Reader, Reader x Sam (platonic), Reader x Bobby (father-figure), Andre (OG Character) x Reader (best friends)

Series Masterlist | Masterlist 

“I believe we have a case to talk about first…”

“Best I can tell … it’s a vengeful spirit. All the victims so far are newly married men. My guess is a couple got hitched, things went sour so she regretted it and then she must’ve died somehow. Potentially killed by the new husband, and now she’s taking it out on all the men that get married in that chapel. If I wanted to play devil’s advocate I would say she’s trying to protect the women, but I still don’t think it’s right.”

“For someone who’s been out of the game for a while that’s some good deduction work. You got the actual research and files to back it up?”

“Files? I told you, I don’t do that stuff anymore. I found out what I could legally. The rest is up to you and your boy toy.”

“Dean’s no more my ‘boy toy’ than Danny is yours. I chastise Dean for not being nice enough to you, don’t think I’ll refrain from treating you the same. He drove all the way here to help with a case you found, granted I had a big part in it, but he’s here all the same. He deserves more respect. He’s reserved, but he’s never been rude, not to you anyway.” You go to say more but you hear the bathroom door open. You shoot Dean a smile as he walks towards you. 

Andre stands up awkwardly. “Yeah, so uh, that’s all I got. You think you can work with that?”

You look back over at him and nod, “Yeah, thanks. We’ll do some more research and check it out. You and Danny enjoy your wedding planning.”

Dean gives you a quizzical look as Andre turns to leave.

“Thanks. Be safe … both of you. Good night.”

“Good night,” you call out as Andre leaves.

Dean sits on the couch beside you pulling your feet into his lap. He starts to massage your feet, ankles and calves as he looks at you for an explanation. When you stay silent he says, “I heard all that you know. It was quite sweet of you to defend my honour like that.”

“That’s not what I was doing. I just … I know what he thinks about our relationship. He wishes I could’ve found someone who wasn’t in the game, like him and Danny. But I didn’t. I found you, and he doesn’t get to take that out on you. I choose who I date … who I marry … and I choose you. Regardless of what anyone else thinks.”

“I promise I’m going to get you out of this life … one way or another.”

You sit up and put one of your hands on his, briefly stopping his movements. “We’re going to get out … together. But first, we really should talk about this case.”

“Alright, Sweetheart, what’d he give us to work with?”

You lean back again and say, “Well, a vengeful bride is killing off any newly married men in a popular chapel. What we need to figure out is who she is, or was, so we can burn her bones before anyone else dies.”

“So, we go in as FBI tomorrow and get access to the list of everyone ever married there and figure out who’s dead.”

“Or we could go undercover … you feel like playing bait?”

“I thought you didn’t want to get married in Vegas?”

“I don’t. FBI it is then, except I didn’t bring anything FBI-worthy. When I left with Sam I was going to hunt what I thought was a werewolf or something.”

“I’ll buy you something to wear, on two conditions…”

“Yeah?”

“One, I get a fashion show. And two, you also get something really nice for the casinos and a fancy dinner once we gank this ghost.”

“You know you’re the only boyfriend in the world that actually wants to go clothes shopping with his girlfriend.” 

“Fiance. And it’s not like it’s a common occurrence. I like spoiling you and seeing you dress up.”

“Dork.” As you finish talking your stomach growls loudly.

“Sounds like it’s time to feed my girl,” Dean says. As he reaches for the room service menu on the coffee table, you hear a knock on the door. You give each other a confused look as he gets up. 

He walks back into the room a few minutes later with a trolley covered in a crisp white cloth with silver dishes, utensils, wine glasses and a bottle of red wine. “Son of a bitch’s still trying to upstage me…” he grumbles as he wheels the trolley over to the couch. 

“Dean…” you scold. 

“I’m taking you to a five-star restaurant before we go home. Five-course meal minimum with drinks and a view to kill for. I’ll show you I can give you what you deserve.”

You reach out to him and say, “Jealousy is not a good look on you, Babe. Come here.” When he gets close enough you take his hand in yours and pull him down to sit beside you again. “How many times do I have to tell you that you’re all I ever want and need? This is just his way of apologising for how he acted earlier.” When he stays silent and glares at the trolley you continue, “Have you ever heard of love languages? Andre’s is quite obviously gift-giving. Do you know what mine is?”

He slowly shakes his head, still not looking at you. You sit up and take both of his hands into your lap as you force him to make eye contact. 

“It’s quality time with a hint of physical touch. Two things that you give me almost daily … because I’m convinced yours are the same. You need and want those things as much as I do so it’s second nature for you to do it. That’s one of the things I love most about you. I don’t need gifts or fancy dinners, I just need you to hold me. That’s enough. You’re enough.”

He looks away again as tears start to well up. You rest your head on his shoulder. “I know you’ll never hear my words, or never truly believe them anyway. But I just hope some part of you knows how I feel about you. I’ll never leave you or choose anyone else over you, Fiance.” You kiss his neck softly before sitting up and examining the trolley. You pick up the wine bottle carefully opening it to ensure the cork doesn’t fly off and break anything and then fill the two glasses with the rich red liquid. You place one glass in Dean’s hands as you lightly tap your glass to his. 

“I know you like to provide for me. Another part of how you show your love is through acts of service. But you do that all the time. I’ll let you take me where ever you want tomorrow and cook for me when we get back to the Bunker. But for tonight, can we just enjoy this dinner together? Please, Baby? Just because Andre bought it doesn’t mean we can’t still make it about us.”

Finally, he lifts his head and meets your eyes as he takes a small sip of the wine. You smile and follow suit. You quickly lift the covers off the plates before you lose his attention to his self-deprecating thoughts again. One at a time you reveal serves of chicken pot pie, salmon filets, lasagne, ribeye steaks, tiramisu, and creme brulee. It’s the biggest selection of food you and Dean have seen in a long time. You hand Dean a fork and you each start digging into the dishes not even bothering to serve them on the plates. 

By the time you get to dessert you’re feeling full but Dean takes the two dessert trays and a spoon and goes over to the bed. As he takes a big spoonful of the tiramisu he looks at you suggestively. Curious and a little excited about the thoughts going around his head you get up and climb into the bed and join him. He holds a spoon out to you and you let him slip it into your mouth, you close your eyes, moaning at the initial sweetness and then the bitter mix of the coffee and alcohol. Once you swallow you take the spoon off him and feed him. 

“It’s no pie, but it’s alright,” he says before kissing you. His hand cups your cheek securely as he deepens the kiss. You drop the spoon and slip your hand into his hair. You try to pull him to lay down with you but he pulls away. You chase his lips for a few more quick kisses. “Patience, Sweetheart.”

He gets up and puts the leftover food in the fridge and then rifles through your bag until he finds the stuffed bunny he bought you months ago. He tosses it towards you and you catch it, hugging it close to your chest. “I can’t believe you brought that with you.”

“When I left the Bunker I was going on my first hunt in forever without you. Of course, I brought it. It’s the only thing you’ve given me that doesn’t have a life-saving property.”

“It’s hard to believe you’re a hunter sometimes. You’re so cute.”

“Says you, Winchester. Now come here and cuddle with us.” You hold up the bunny.

“You’re over-dressed,” he states as he comes over and pulls your jeans down your legs. You reach under your shirt and unclasp your bra and slip it off before throwing it at him as he’s shedding his own jeans. He then lifts his shirt over his head and holds it out to you. Once you take it he rounds the bed while you swap your own for his larger one. This whole routine was not unusual for you, it’s actually almost second nature, especially when on hunts. You often shower after getting back from a gruesome hunt and then redress in a clean set of day clothes until bed when you strip and steal one of Dean’s shirts. Eventually, he just started to offer you the one off his back and sleep topless next to you.

He climbs into bed with you and you snuggle up close resting your head on his chest and draping your arm across his stomach. He wraps his arms around you and kisses the top of your head. You lay there for a while enjoying the silence. 

You’re pretty much asleep when Dean quietly says, “I promise I’m gonna get you out safely. I love you too much to trap you here in this life with me. Whatever it takes, Sweetheart. You’re gonna get out.”

Assuming that he’s only opening up because he thinks you’re asleep you subtly snuggle closer, keeping your eyes shut. You feel him run his fingers over your silver ring. You can only imagine the thoughts circling around in his mind. The dread of what he could be planning settles deep in your stomach and you push back tears and will yourself to go to sleep. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

A/N: Sorry we still didn’t get to the hunt or much action this week. I just keep getting lost in these fluffy moments between Dean and Y/N and can’t bring myself to cut them out or skim over them. 

Tag list: (Leave a like or comment on this post or let me know below if you want to be added to the tag list for this series)

@bitchwitch1981, @muhahaha303, @justrealizedimmascifygurl, @mcdowell-123, @leigh70, @marvelsmarauder, @losa12308, @tapedeck-hearts, @luvjaida, @peachtxa, @ambearsstuff, @shadow-of-a-cloud, @slut-for-buck, @iprobablyshipit91, @sassy-pelican, @fallenlilangel99, @heavenlyhopeful0

[dotthings]

No, I know, I’m going to ignore them but I’m still so irritated about the dehumanizing lack of empathy and hypocrisy from the Jared stans who beat up on Misha and Jensen for years mocking them for being “unemployed” for being “losers” and allegedly doing nothing. In reality both of them have an impressive post-spn cv so far but that is beside the point because it would also be valid for Jensen and Misha to take all the down time they want.

Misha, who is less outwardly driven than Jensen to be on camera and work on camera, and took even more hatred over this due to his lower visibility, nevertheless has many pots boiling and with his charity work and his activism, he doesn’t stay still any more than Jensen does. Misha does many things that aren’t as visible. Misha has also admitted to struggling with depression and exhaustion and I think it’s great he’s allowed himself to take more downtime and more time with his kids.

Anyway, both Jensen and Misha are talented and entitled to do this at whatever pace they choose and they both deserve better than how Jared stans have treated them.

Some Jared stans claim to care so much about mhi but it’s all just to serve their parasocializing of Jared while they don’t care the harm they do to anyone else. They have treated Jensen and Misha like trash, as well as pushed a very harmful narrative within fandom to do with toxic busyness culture.

Whether the actors saw their hateful comments or not, those kinds of comments affect fandom peers.

The Jared stans, more than any other lane, loudly and aggressively pushed this hatred that shames down time and is obsessed with ambition and visibility and clout and equates busy-ness with being worthy and if you need down time you’re a loser.

It’s toxic and horrible and anti-mental health on a real world level. It’s a toxic culture societally that Jared stans embraced so they could attack Jensen and Misha over the past 4 years and mock them. And I hope enough people know not to internalize that crap.

Jared’s feelings are valid and him taking a break is valid. This isn’t about him and his next career moves. What’s a fresh horror to me is I know how those same Jared stans who shamed and mocked and hated on Jensen and Misha are now going to praise Jared for taking downtime and talk about how mature and self-aware and good he is…after they treated Jensen and Misha as losers for not being “#1 on the call sheet.” And now Jensen will be again in fact…but it’s beside the point because even if he doesn’t, that doesn’t make Jensen’s work less valuable or impactful if he decided to do guest spots and recurring roles only.

And now??? Suddenly this toxic culture is getting addressed by virtue signaling Jared stans because some Jensen stan or other must have made a snarky comment about “unemployed actor” against Jared and I’m not saying people should do that but also if your fave had been mocked and hated on using that callous trope for 4 years, I think it’s understandable if a couple of people snapped.

Where was this energy while they beat up on Jensen and Misha for 4 years?

These Jared stans come across as really insincere, they don’t care about mental health, they have zero awareness or empathy for those around themselves, they only care about Jared worship.

[starspray]

Or, send in a ⭐star⭐  to have the author select a section they’ve been dying to talk about!

#been in a writing slump #maybe this would help kickstart things

have a star! *pulls up a chair and sits down to listen*

Once again, I got the star and I blanked on everything I ever wrote, lol. But I have one thing to say about the last scene in Fair as the First Snowdrop in Spring:

“And what of your future, Elrond?” Gil-galad asked later, as he and Elrond sat in the Hall of Fire. It was otherwise empty—a good place to sit and think, or to have a private conversation. “Have you thought of marriage?” Elrond’s thoughts immediately turned to Celebrían, but he shook his head. “Not yet,” he said. “No?” Gil-galad looked at him, one eyebrow arched. The silver ribbons in his braids seemed to glow in the soft light of the low fire. “Not even Lady Celebrían has changed your mind?” “What has Lady Celebrían to do—” “Oh come, Elrond. Perhaps she has not noticed, but anyone who knows you has. You are badly smitten. Don’t tell me you do not plan to speak to her.” “We have only just met,” Elrond said, since denials would get him nowhere. Gil-galad did not roll his eyes, but it seemed a close thing. Elrond tried again—this time feeling himself on firmer ground. “The time is not right.” “What time could be better?” Gil-galad asked. “You have just established yourself the master of your own realm, we have beaten Sauron back—” “But he will rise again,” Elrond said. “The lands south and east of the Anduin are dark to me, as are the coming years, like gazing at a horizon hidden by heavy storm clouds. I do not know when the storm will reach us, only that it will. Until it passes, whatever befalls, I will take no wife.” Gil-galad sighed, all traces of teasing humor gone. “Very well. I will not ask again. But nothing would bring me more pleasure than to stand with you at your wedding, here in Imladris in the spring—whether it is Celebrían or some other deserving lady.” Elrond smiled. “You will be the first to know of it,” he promised.

Okay so the main point of the fic is me finally writing my version of the first meeting between Elrond and Celebrian, because they were on my mind thanks to my other fic White Water Flowing. And the thing one has to decide when writing this pairing is why did Elrond wait so long? They met right after the end of the war with Sauron, after he was chased off to Mordor with his tail between his legs, as Elrond is establishing himself in his own realm of Imladris.

Is he shy? Not really--he's not a shy person, but also he's never been smitten before, and it's thrown him off a bit. Is he intimidated by his potential in-laws? I don't think so. I don't think Elrond is easily intimidated even by Galadriel--and by this point he's pretty close in friendship to Celeborn.

So I settled on foresight--or the lack thereof. When he describes the lands in the southeast being dark to him, I was thinking of when he says in FOTR that all the lands east of the Misty Mountains are hidden from him (or something to that effect--I'm paraphrasing from memory). The War of the Last Alliance is in this fic much what the War of the Ring is in LOTR.

And to that point--Elrond's decision to take no wife at all is a deliberate echo of his...what's the word. Not an order, exactly. And admonition? Prophecy? Idk. Anyway what he says to Aragorn after word gets back to him that Aragorn has fallen in love with Arwen (and I am going to get the quote for this):

Aragorn, Arathorn's son, Lord of the Dunedain, listen to me! A great doom awaits you, either to rise above the height of all your fathers since the days of Elendil, or to fall into darkness with all that is left of your kin. Many years of trial lie before you. You shall neither have wife, nor bind any woman to you in troth, until your time comes and you are found worthy of it.

I'm not putting Elrond's decision to delay marriage on the same level as Aragorn's fate--Aragorn has the fate of a whole people in his hands, and Elrond's choices are much more personal--but I wanted this to be something Elrond would not ask of someone like Aragorn without having done something similar himself. Marrying someone, much less Arwen, would have hindered Aragorn in his travels and in taking the risks that he needed to take, and similarly I think Elrond feels that marrying Celebrian too soon would hamper his own ability for potential risks and sacrifices (remember, he stands by Gil-galad along with Cirdan during that last fight against Sauron). When he marches to Mordor at the end of the Second Age, he is not necessarily certain he'll come back.

[fair-dinkum-mechanic]

Just … going to get really depressing and vocalise my self pity for a second under this bc I’ve woken up and immediately want to cry

I don’t know how to do this life anymore. I’ve just been taking my days minute by minute and it’s been working, but lately I can’t see any way forward. I’m 31 soon, I’ve never lived out of home, not because I don’t have the means to but because I don’t feel like being totally on my own is safe or healthy for me. And why would I do that to myself anyway? Also, my parents are older than other peoples parents. And my dad died when I was just 19 leaving my mum on her own and I can’t leave her on her own just so I can also be on my own that’s not fair and awful for the both of us. But she’s getting older, and my cat my little baby is getting older too. And my dogs getting older as well. Everything I live for is going to leave me and I’ll lose it forever. The last little bits of unconditional love I have are going to be gone. I make friends so easily, I’m lucky in that way, that’s I’m personable and likeable and people do naturally want to be my friend but I also don’t have the energy anymore to chat daily or initiate conversations. But it’s also, so hard to be easy to get along with but struggle so so hard meeting boys. In fact, feel absolutely worthless and disgusting whenever I have a boy look at me. I know it’s because my dad made it clear that he never wanted me and proceeded to make me feel pretty worthless and unworthy for mostly my entire life, and then when I finally came out thinking it would be okay bc I was being myself and my homophobic family would come around, it turns out it wasn’t even my family who made me feel awful for being gay… it was other gay people. And even worse, my first long term boyfriend who I’d given everything to. Then was in two toxic relationships, situationships, dating was hell, boys would get attached to me telling me that they really liked me, calling me to see me hang out hold my hand, and then suddenly tell me there was someone else, someone better, and leaving me but “oh I still want to be friends I can’t imagine you not being in my life” like… what the fuck is wrong with me. When can I ever be good enough. Then I see everyone else being so handsome, and can keep their bodies looking nice and trim their beards and go outdoors and swim and do things like that but I can’t even get out of bed until lunchtime. I work so hard at my job, and again I make friends with literally everyone I work with, and I make the customers feel so welcome and make them laugh and I love that I can do that and I love making friends but it’s work. Sometimes I dread not going to work because it’s the place I can avoid my life I don’t need to worry about any of those expectations. Sexual ones, the way I should look, or behave, or the values I should have or what I should be doing it’s just work it’s simple. But again it’s demanding, it’s exhausting, customers are insanely rude and demanding, and all my coworkers get to go home to someone. Someone who WANTS to see and love them. Someone who’s chosen to be there. I don’t have that. I haven’t cuddled in fuck knows how long. And friends are great but don’t I deserve that special thing from someone again? Like I’m not worthy? Or I’m not good enough? The hard part is I look at myself and I don’t objectively think I’m hideous. I’m not the most handsome or sexy guy, I know, but I don’t think I’m disgusting. But my heart and my body dysmorphia feels like I’m truly hideous, but if I look at it logically I don’t think I am. So what is it? It has to be who I am as a person. I don’t know what’s worse.

Look I just don’t know how anyone is meant to live like this and not constantly have a shadow of ending it all constantly looming over their head, I really don’t.

I don’t know what the fuck to do anymore. My life is fucking nothing and I know it’ll just rot away in the end.

[cheerscoops]

ship: Jonathan Byers/Eddie Munson wc: 1.8k A/N: This one was suggested by my favorite @sherifftillman <3 I take the two freak boys and I squish. Hopefully they (and the minor background ship) live up to everyone's expectations!

“Hey Byers! Wait up!”

Jonathan stopped walking to his next class and turned to find Eddie Munson of all people racing towards him.

“I have a proposition for you,” he said once he’d caught up to Jonathan. “A job opportunity really.”

“What kind of job opportunity?” He was always looking to make a little more money around the holidays, and if the job wasn’t anything illegal, he’d seriously consider the extra work.

“So, as I’m sure you’re aware, I’m the frontman for a pretty spectacular band known as Corroded Coffin, and me and the guys were hoping to do a little something special for our fans this year. Granted, there are maybe five of them total, but still. They deserve a little something special as a token of appreciation for supporting us. Anyway, we wanted to send out a special Christmas card to our friends this year. Maybe include a flier about some upcoming shows in it? It’s still very much in the planning stages. All we know is that we want a really great photo of the whole band to go on the front of the card. That’s where you come in.”

“You want me to shoot your Christmas card?”

“Well, yeah. We don’t want an amateur with a disposable camera doing this. We want it to look good, and as far as I’m concerned, you’re the most talented photographer any of us knows. Maybe the most talented in all of Hawkins. I mean those photos you had in the school art show last year? Magazine worthy. Especially the one of that fort in the woods. It looked seriously haunted in the coolest way possible. Way better than anything anyone else submitted.”

Jonathan was touched. He knew most people only knew him as that freak with the camera, and he’d be lying if he hadn’t assumed that was why Eddie was asking when he first mentioned the card. But Eddie actually knew his work and appreciated it. He wasn’t asked just because he had a camera. He was asked because he had vision.

“How much does the job pay?” he asked.

“We’re not exactly rolling in it right now. Shocking, I know. But we talked about it and pulled our money. We can buy you a roll of film for the project so you don’t have to waste any of your own on us, and then we think we can reasonably afford to pay you for your time with twenty bucks and dinner at Benny’s afterwards. I know it’s not a lot, but it would mean a lot to us if you’d consider it. Plus, you can use the photos you take for any assignment or art show you might have coming up. And, come on.” Eddie gestured to himself. “If this handsome face is in your work, you’ll win all the top prizes for sure."

Eddie was right that it wasn’t a lot, but it was enough that it would make a difference in the quality of the gifts that Jonathan was able to get his mom and brother for Christmas. And if he didn’t have to use his own film, it was a net gain no matter what.

“So, say I agree to do this,” he started. “And I’m not agreeing just yet, but say that I do. What kinds of photos are you looking for?”

“Maybe something goofy and posed with all of us? Or artsy if you prefer. And then maybe a couple photos of us actually playing? We’ve got a Santa hat and some elf hats we were thinking of wearing since this is for a Christmas thing, but wearing them isn’t a deal breaker if you think the pictures would look better without them. Totally willing to defer to the real artistic genius here. I just want the pictures to look good, and you’re the only person I trust to make it happen.”

The idea of creative control was enticing enough to seal the deal for him.

“Alright. I’m in. When and where do you need me?”

“We haven’t settled on a specific day or time yet, but probably sometime this weekend. I’ll talk to the guys at lunch and let you know the plan before the end of the day though. I owe you my life for this. Seriously.”

With that, Eddie was racing off down the hall leaving Jonathan to try and come up with a way to make heavy metal Christmas cards into something appropriate for any of his photography class assignments.

That Saturday afternoon, Jonathan met up with the guys outside of the Hideout. The plan was to do posed photos outside and then go inside to take a few pictures of them playing. As long as they stayed focused on getting the shots they wanted, they'd be done in time for that promised dinner at Benny's.

He didn't think it would take too long, but then again, he didn't really know what working with Eddie would be like. The guy was all over him, and it was more than a little distraction. Eddie just had so many questions about his process, and he wanted to look through the camera and get an idea of what Jonathan was seeing. Or, if he wasn't asking questions, he was touching him. Adjusting a twisted camera strap, placing a hand on Jonathan's back as he leaned in the eye the proposed shot, poking at him to get his attention, grabbing at his arm to pull him over to any place he thought they could get a good photo. If Jonathan didn't know any better, he would've thought that Eddie was into him.

“Come on, Eddie,” he said as he tried to get him to pose properly for what he thought might be their last shot. “Quit it with whatever that brooding, tortured artist look is. You said you wanted something goofy, not sexy.”

“So you think I'm sexy?” Eddie asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Jonathan could feel his face burning.

“Just let me take the picture.”

He snapped a couple more photos in quick succession before putting the lens cap back on his camera.

“I think I got everything you guys wanted out here. Let's take a ten minute break, and then we can set up for the performance shots.”

Jonathan headed inside for a moment alone, but he'd barely sat down before Gareth was joining him at his table.

“You know we didn't need to hire you for this, right?” he started. “Jeff's parents own that hobby shop downtown, and his mom would have lent us a camera for free if we promised not to smash it. A fancy one with a timer so we wouldn't have even needed a photographer to get this done.”

“If that's the case, why am I here?”

“You haven't figured it out yet?”

“Figured out what?”

“You really have no idea. He's about as subtle as a heart attack, and you still don't know.”

“Can you please fill me in so I can make even a little bit of sense of what you're saying?”

“Eddie wanted you to do this so he'd have an excuse to spend time with you and get to know you a little better.”

“And he was willing to pay me twenty bucks for the opportunity?”

“Well, yeah. When he's that into someone, he loses all sense of logic and reason. Even more so than usual.”

Jonathan was stunned speechless. Eddie was into him? Suddenly all of his badgering made sense, and when he really stopped to think about it, the badgering wasn't unwelcome. If he wasn't in the middle of lining up a shot, he could see himself enjoying what was apparently Eddie's attempt at flirting.

“So, why doesn't he just ask me out? It would probably be cheaper than paying me to be your band's personal photographer.”

“He's afraid that you'd say no which I think is stupid because it's obvious how much he gets under your skin.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Dude. Your entire face looked like a tomato after you accidentally called him sexy. Pretty sure that was your subconscious telling you that you're into him, too.”

Jonathan didn't know what to say. Before he'd asked him to do this, he didn't realize Eddie even knew who he was, and now he was facing the very real possibility that he could maybe be into Eddie, too.

“Look," Gareth started. "You don't have to say anything to me or him or anybody. But, if you wanted, I could make something happen. All I ask is that you do a small favor for me.”

“Name it.”

“Put in a good word for me with Nancy?” he asked. “I find her beautiful and terrifying.”

“I'll see what I can do.”

Gareth stood up from his seat and smiled at Jonathan.

“It's been a pleasure doing business with you.”

Their break ended shortly after that, and Jonatham took a series of photos of them playing through two different songs so he could get a variety of different angles for each member of the band. Once he figured he'd gotten everything he needed, he motioned for the band to stop.

“I'm pretty sure I just used up the last of the film you guys brought, so we can call it here. I'll develop everything when I have access to the photo lab on Monday and get the prints to you as soon as possible.”

“We're done?” Eddie sounded more than a little disappointed and he crossed over to where Jonathan was loading his camera back into his bag.

“I think so. But I remember being promised dinner at Benny's as part of my payment, so we could head there now if you want.”

“Definitely. We just need to load up our stuff, and then we can all head out.”

“Actually, the guys and I have a thing,” Gareth said. “And we can't get out of it, so you guys are gonna have to go by yourselves.”

“What thing?” Jeff asked. “We don't have a-”

He was cut off from finishing his sentence by Gareth smacking his arm and pointedly looking back and forth between him and where Eddie was standing with Jonathan.

“Oh! Right!” Jeff said after the realization hit. “That thing. So sad we can't make it.”

“You crazy kids have fun without us!” Gareth said as he ushered the other two bandmates out of the bar.

“I'm going to kill him,” Eddie muttered under his breath, making Jonathan huff out a laugh.

“No, you're not.”

“Oh, but I am. I'm already drafting up posters advertising our need for a new drummer.”

“Go easy on him. He just did you a massive favor.”

Eddie crossed his arms over his chest.

“How do you figure?”

“He just got you a date with the guy you've been shamelessly flirting with all day.”

Eddie's jaw dropped. He definitely wasn't expecting that response from him.

“I'm pretty sure the guys just left without loading their stuff into the van, so pick your jaw off the floor and let me help you get that taken care of. Then you can flirt with me some more.”

Eddie changed his mind. He wasn't killing Gareth. He was gonna owe him for the rest of his life for helping him earn a date with Jonathan Byers.

[avpdvoidspace]

I have avpd and I don’t trust myself regarding relationships. I have so much yearning for love and affection, because I feel lonely and I’m so touch starved. And with avpd making me feel unlovable, I often fantasize about the cliche of being saved. So I’m afraid that I’ll be too blind when I meet someone. And I often hear how I should love myself before someone else can love me. And how love won’t make my life better or make me happy, I need to make myself happy. Stuff like that. So now when I’m yearning I’m feeling stupid, and I’m wondering if it’s bad to yearn for love when it doesn’t exist in my life and hope that it would make me more satisfied with life. I have never known it, so I can’t compare it to anything. Is it stupid to try to find love and then it’ll just feel worse when I know what to miss when it’s gone? At least the pain I feel now is not based on anything real. Why can’t I just be content with my own little life? I try to keep myself busy and do things I like but it’s just so empty and I just wish I had someone to hold me once in a while. Is it stupid and delusional to have that yearning? How do I stop it?

"And I often hear how I should love myself before someone else can love me. And how love won’t make my life better or make me happy, I need to make myself happy." Honestly I think these sentiments hurt a lot of people who struggle with mental health, and the first one in particular has caused me a lot of fear, pain, and feelings of worthlessness. As far as I'm concerned, it's just not true that you have to love yourself before someone else can love you. For many people, they are loved before they even have a sense of self. The people who raise them give them love, which helps to build a foundation of self that they in turn can love. So the typical experience of being human is being loves before you can love yourself. Some of us don't get that. We might be cared for well enough to survive infancy but treated badly by guardians who resent our existence. We can't learn to love ourselves if we're treated with disdain from birth. And maybe we go a long time before someone shows us genuine love. A person like that could have a hard time loving themselves for the rest of their life. Do they not deserve to be loved? Would it not benefit them? That's the situation I find myself in. And it's more than just not loving myself. I often have hatred and contempt for myself. Being loved by other people actually helps me quite a bit in that regard. It's not easy, and I often feel undeserving of them or like they'd be better off without me, but the loving relationships I have do make my life much much better. I think you bring up a very valid issue--of feeling 'blind' when you meet someone. I've definitely been in a position where I think someone is one of my best friends and cares for me deeply only to find out they were using me or taking advantage of me (and queue a period of extreme self hatred for being 'stupid enough' to let someone in). Unfortunately that's a risk. My best advice for that is to give relationships time before you commit to them. A lot of time. Like two years at least, and at that point, reflect on the relationship. Don't be afraid to move on if it's not working for you, and if it is, that's great. And that goes for friendships as well as romantic relationships imo. Anyway, I definitely think people with avpd are deserving and worthy of relationships, even if we can never love ourselves. I resent the whole "you have to love yourself before anyone else can love you" thing. I think it's an incredibly damaging belief forced on us, often by people who haven't experienced growing up without love. And it's just absolutely not true.