#Crying is confidence

[gdusil]

The Nietzseche herd who are embarrassed witnessing an outburst of human emotion represent the epitome of insecurity.

[awaxagoras]

giggling and kicking my feet at stalker phainon being somewhat canon (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

currently thinking abt phainon who is obsesseddddd w you ♡ [ fwb ? exes ? awkward situationship ? guy you don’t even know ? something else ? I can’t decide lol it’s up to u ] he has ur notifications on and watches ur story / likes ur posts literally seconds after u post them . doesn’t feel embarrassed abt it . likes every one of them regardless of what the post is abt — surely you’ll notice how he’s obviously flirting w you ! [ you don’t . it’s just a like button , phainon . . . ]

he’s kinda crazy . analyzing all of ur posts trying to decipher any sort of hidden meaning behind them . that song you just posted . . is it about him ? are u trying to tell him something ?[ it has nothing to do w him . it’s just a song ] he’s got the lyrics pulled up , just in case . even if there’s nothing behind it , at least he knows what music you like ! definitely brings it up casually [ it’s not really that casual . you weren’t even talking about music just now ] to impress you . you like the same bands ? no way ! you must be soulmates or something haha ( ˆ𐃷ˆ) [ you know it’s a joke , but why is he watching ur reaction so seriously ? ]

he knows wayyy too much about you . he tries to play it cool but every now and then he’ll make a comment abt something that you swear you’ve never told him [ that reference he just made was a coincidence , right ? you don’t remember telling him abt that . actually , you’re pretty sure you only mentioned it on your private account . . ] should you ask him abt it , he’ll just laugh and shrug it off . of course he knows that , silly ! you really don’t remember talking ? well . . . phainon is such a nice guy . yeah , he’s probably right . you probably did tell him at some point ┐(´～｀ˇ)┌ you’re overthinking it [ you aren’t ]

ultimate reply guy . finds a way to say something to all of ur posts , even if it makes him look a bit desperate . tries sooo hard to keep the conversation going . just one conversation with him shows clearly shows anyone that he has a natural way with words but when it comes to you , he feels as though he’s forgotten how to speak entirely ! you make him nervous ! (•́︿•̀) and this is just online ! you have no idea how hard his heart beats against his chest when you speak in person . sometimes , he thinks staying composed in front of you requires the same level of resolve as being a chyrsos heir

ehehehe if this is an exes au or if you’re simply on bad terms with him , [ t-that’s not true ! you’re just . . respecting each others space right now . that’s very normal for couples . . ! which you certainly are ! stop saying you don’t know him ] this doesn’t really do anything to stop him . go ahead , block him . at this point , he could probably make a burner account with his eyes closed (ᵕ—ᴗ—) it’s not very nice of you to block your boyfriend [ he isn’t your boyfriend ] but it’s okay , he understands . he could never truly be mad at you . if you want him to watch your stories and spam your notifications with likes from a blank account for now , that’s alright . he won’t take it personally [ he should . it is quite personal ]

you can try to call him out . you can tell him to stop bothering you and to just leave you alone . smiling at his phone even while you curse him out . you unblocked his first number just to text him ! he still has a chance ! (´｡• ◡ •｡`) ♡

[storytellering]

Ice statue, I'm going to melt you

[narliee]

I wanna support you.

[captainpriceslilwife]

little thing with John Price that goes from angst to smut to angst again and then fluff and back to smut....pretty much checked all the boxes here i think. okay yay <3 also ill be honest...idk if i like how this turned out, but.....here it is *serves up half-eaten charcuterie board made from lunchables*

Basically Price is using your daddy kink as a trojan horse to rewrite your neural pathways <3 but like...with love Shoutout @coco-killed-the-angels for implanting these worms (insecure girl x price) into my brain <333 CW: deep insecurities (bc i'm the one writing it, so...it's a given), daddy kink, crying, praise kink (?) - does it count if he's just praising you in a sexual setting and its not necessarily a kink idk, if you're allergic to true, deep love and you just want smut this is not the work for you, not DDLG but like...the cousin of it. Or sibling. DDLG adjacent.

Your day had started off rough.

Well, the whole week, really. With deadlines and headaches looming over your head, it's no wonder that you ended up in such a state this morning.

You were just barely fighting the childish urge to just whack the brush over your head, so you tried to move on to putting your makeup. Which only ended in you crying in frustration when it started to cake up, and then you began crying even harder when your tears started making the rest of it slide off of your face.

"So fucking stupid." You had whispered under your breath as your shaky hands wiped at your face in a sorry attempt to fix everything - only to make it worse.

That's how John found you in the bathroom, furiously scrubbing at your face with a towel to wipe everything off as you sobbed quietly to yourself.

"Woah, woah, woah...sweetheart." His hands are quick to wrap around yours to halt your movements, and you try to bow your head to avoid his gaze, but he tilts his head right alongside you. "What's all this, huh? What's wrong, sweet girl?"

And he tries his hardest to comfort you, he really does, but you're just so lost in your anguish that you blow up in his face the moment he suggests you be gentle with yourself.

"No! I have to wear makeup today because my face is breaking out and I look ugly, b-but I keep ruining it because I'm crying! God, I can't do anything without ruining it!"

Maybe you were just hormonal or about to get your period, but it didn't matter. Your insecurities sound the same no matter what chemical is bouncing around in your brain to cause it.

Which is how you ended up here - on your hands and knees on the bed, facing the mirror on the dresser with John's cock nestled deep inside of you.

He had already been working you up for hours, teasing and licking and fingering you until you could barely hold yourself up - which explains why he's got one hand curled at the base of your skull to hold your head up by your hair to force you to watch as he fucks you.

But he's not even fucking you. He's just...sitting inside of you. Not moving. Making you whine and whimper as he stares at you through the smudged reflection of the mirror. You plead with him quietly, fresh tears blooming to wash away the dried tracks from your earlier malaise, but he just shakes his head and pulls your hair back a bit more.

"I already told you what to do, sweetheart. Go on." But you just blink at him dumbly with those teary eyes, too far gone to remember how you got here, let alone what he just said five seconds ago. But that's alright - if war taught him anything, it was how to be patient. Especially with a soft thing like you.

"Daddy's not moving until you say something you like about yourself."

Oh, right. That.

You had kind of been hoping he would just fuck your brains out so you could ignore your little meltdown earlier and forget it ever happened - but clearly John had different plans.

"I don't want to."

Brat.

Even when you were trembling beneath him and begging him to fuck you, you still had the nerve to talk back to him. But John knows you well enough to know that you aren't acting out just for the fun of it. So, he isn't going to punish you now. You're upset, and insecure, and you just want him to take it all away so you don't have to think about it.

Which is exactly what he's doing - even if you can't see it from where you are mentally. He's just playing the long game.

"One thing, baby." He murmurs in your ear, locking eyes with you in the mirror as he curls himself over your back to press his hairy chest into you, making you mewl softly. "Just say one little thing you like about yourself, and Daddy will fuck you, just like you want. I promise."

And you poor thing - you're just so desperate. You're cunt is leaking around his cock and no matter how much you try to rock your hips back to get some kind of friction, he's holding you too tight to make any real progress.

So you give up. Or give in. Either way, you decide to just let go and think of something - if only just to get him to pound you into the mattress the way you wanted.

But when you looked at yourself in the mirror - all puffy eyes, splotchy cheeks, and tangled hair - all you could see is what you didn't like.

Every bump, every scar, every part that's too much, and every part that's not enough. Suddenly every mean voice in your head has a stage - telling you about all the times you failed and how you aren't worthy of anything good in this world. Ugly, stupid, worthless, annoying-

There's nothing you can think of, even to just throw out meaninglessly to get him to hop off your case. Nothing.

And all you can do is choke out a pathetic sob - lower lip trembling violently as you squeeze your eyes shut to block out the mean voices circling around in your head. "Daddy, I can't...I c-can't think of anything."

He had expected a bit of resistance from you, but the way your face crumpled so sadly at the prospect of complimenting yourself made his heart ache in his chest. Clearly your insecurities were running deeper than surface-level, and he'd have his fair share of work cut out for him if he wanted to make you feel better.

"Shh, hey, hey, hey. It's okay." He coos softly, removing his hand from your hair to curl it around you to rest it against your sternum. He sits back against the bed and takes you right along with him, planting you on his lap with your back pressed against his chest - with his cock still inside of you. You're grateful for it, since you know you'd just spiral even more if he took it out and left you feeling empty and cold while you were already on the verge of a complete breakdown. "Daddy can help. I'll help you out, sweetheart."

"We can think of things together, my love. It's okay." He murmurs quietly as he wraps his arms around you, rocking you back and forth slightly as he gently hushes your tears. His thumb comes up to wipe away the fresh tears that slip down your cheeks, and he can feel his heart cracking in two at every little heartbroken whimper and sob that manages to escape your lips.

"What about your pretty eyes, hm? The ones that help you read all of those books, even when it's a little dark? The same eyes Daddy loves to wake up to every morning?"

You blink owlishly through your tears, your hiccups coming to a halt for just a second as you begin to process his words. He's not talking about the color of your eyes or what shape they are, but what they can do. You've been so caught up on how every part of you looked...not what they were actually meant for.

Your eyes aren't supposed to be the prettiest color or the 'perfect' shape. They're job is to help you see. And you can read, and admire the sunset, and cry, and watch TV - and none of it has to do with how your eyes look. They're the same eyes that lock onto John's from across the room and tell him 'it's too much. can we go home?' without ever having to say a word. And he always knows how you're feeling, just from taking one look at your eyes.

"And what about your hair? Don't you like braiding it and putting it up in all those pretty hairstyles? Don't you like how Daddy can play with it when you get all sleepy?" You turn your head around to look at him through your tears, and you take in a shaky breath as you nod your head silently in agreement. "Yeah...I know I like it, sweet girl."

You let out a restrained whimper as his words settle over you, your heart cracking in a way that it never has before - like its rearranging itself to fit the beautiful image of his perception of you. You can feel his hand gently squeeze your arm to silently urge you to continue on your own, and it takes you a minute to think of something before you let out a trembling whisper.

"M-My nose..." You sound uncertain, blinking up at him for validation only to be met with a loving smile and an encouraging nod. "I like my nose."

Your nose was never meant to look like everyone else's. It's just there to help you breathe. To bring oxygen to your blood to keep you alive and healthy. And it helps you smell everything - the bread at the farmers market, John's cologne bottle whenever you missed him too much in his missions, even the gross candles at the store that you force John to smell too just so you can both suffer together. It even crinkles up whenever John presses a kiss to it when you aren't expecting it, which always makes him laugh and makes him press just one more to it to get you to giggle and swat him away.

"Yes...good girl." He praises softly as he presses a line of kisses along your shoulder, reverent in both his touch and stare as he tilts your chin back towards the mirror. "Keep looking at yourself, darling."

"And Daddy loves your beautiful smile...you know, that's the first thing I miss when I go away. I keep a little picture of you in my vest just so I can see it even when I'm on my missions. I love seeing my gorgeous girl look so happy." His words coax another watery sob from you, which he quickly soothes by running his hands gently up and down your arms. Eventually he trails them down and circles his hands around yours, using his thumbs to massage gentle circles into your palms as you cast your gaze down to watch. "And your hands...didn't you bake me those cookies last week with these hands?"

"Yes, Daddy." You nod once again, and he brings both of your hands up to wipe at the tears that are dripping off of your cheeks and down to your torso.

Your body let you express your love for him in all the ways you wanted - hugging, kissing, cuddling, crying, laughing, talking, listening, touching - you could go on forever now that you're really thinking about it.

Your body was a vessel for love - a home that could fit all the adoration and affection that John could possibly give you and you could give him - and instead you were using it to house all of the shame everyone else had burdened you with over the years. But John had all the patience in the world, and if he had to pick that shame out piece-by-piece in order to burrow his love inside of you, then that's what he'd do. Happily.

"Pretty, pretty, pretty...such a pretty little girl you are." He punctuates every one of his words with a kiss to your shoulder, your neck, your cheek, your hair...all until he reaches your ear when he finally whispers, "I'm so lucky to have you, baby."

And you poor thing - now your blubbering in his lap as your brain tries to comprehend the sheer amount of love he's pouring into you, and he just continues to hold you patiently as you work through it. It's only when you finally calm down a bit that he speaks up.

"I think you're so beautiful, my love. Inside and out. But if you look in the mirror and you don't like what you're seeing, for whatever silly reason, I want you to remember that your worth comes from a lot more than how you look. Do you understand, baby?" He waits until you nod your head before he plants a kiss right to the crown of your hair. You can feel his hand settle on your thigh, thumbing the sensitive inner skin as he locks eyes with you in the mirror.

"Do you want to keep going?" And then you see it - settled underneath his love and admiration for you is a spark of concern. He doesn't want to push you too hard, especially in a delicate setting like this. His cock is still hard and nestled deep inside of you, but you know if you said the word right now he'd end this all in a heartbeat to make sure you were comfortable and taken care of.

But you don't want him to stop. It feels different this time around - like it's not just sex. It's something more ritualistic than that. So you nod your head once more, making sure to keep your eyes on him in the mirror so he can see how earnest you are.

And slowly, carefully, he readjusts you back into the position you were in before - on your hands and knees facing the mirror. And you can see him watching you closely for any sign of discomfort or regret, but all he's met with is trust in those teary eyes of yours.

"Keep telling me what you like, sweetheart."

And so you do. Clumsy compliments stumbling out of your mouth as he finally starts to rock his hips, granting you the relief you've been craving from him for what feels like forever now. And the more you praise yourself, the more intense his thrusts get - but he never turns rough. Not even for a second. He keeps his eyes locked on yours as he whispers his own devotions into your ears, pushing himself as deep as he can as if he's trying to plant the words directly inside of you.

You're so overwhelmed by the love and the pleasure he's giving you that you barely even realize how fast your orgasm is sneaking up on you, but he notices. He can feel you clenching around him as your thighs begin to shake, and he doesn't waste a second in gently guiding your gaze to look at yourself in the mirror once more.

"Are you a pretty girl, baby?" He grunts softly, barely staving off his own release long enough to drive his message home. You begin to nod your head frantically, too caught up in your impending climax to form any coherent sentences as you begin to flutter around him - but he's not having any of it.

"Yeah? Go on, then. Daddy wants to hear you say it."

"I-I'm a..." Your stuttered words are cut off by a deep moan, and your eyes squeeze shut tightly as you clamp down around him. "I'm a p-pretty girl!"

And then you're sent into the most mind-shattering orgasm you've ever had in your life. You can feel yourself gush around him and you hear his restrained curses as you collapse into the bed, but even your own voice sounds muffled as you call out his name with a quivering cry. He fucks you right through it, leaving you trembling and crying from the intensity as he finally spills inside of you with a few tears of his own.

He just barely catches himself before he collapses on top of you, and it takes him a minute to catch his breath before he readjusts to, very carefully, pull himself out of your squelching cunt. He coos gently as you whine at the loss of contact, and he scoops you up like you're a porcelain doll that'll shatter if he's not careful.

You're still so fuzzy from the intensity of it all, but he places you in his lap to let you bury your face in his neck, and his arms quickly wrap around you the second that your trembling form curls up to him like a kitten in a storm.

"There she is." He whispers softly as he kisses your forehead, one hand trailing up and down your back as the other one circles tightly around your shoulders to ground you with his presence. "There you go, sweet girl. Take a deep breath, my love."

He can feel the little puffs of air hitting his neck as he continues to hold you, and it brings him back down to earth as well as he works you through your comedown. Soft whispers of praise graze your ear as he moves to clean you up, keeping his movements soft and careful when he sees your eyes begin to flutter shut.

And you look up at him with so much love and trust when he finally pulls you down to lay back against the pillows, he can't stop himself from taking a moment to brush at the soft skin of your cheek before he presses his lips against yours. It's not hungry or lustful - just pure love being poured into you as he pulls the covers up to cover your bare form.

He pulls back just enough to murmur quietly against your lips, eyes looking down at you with so much reverance it makes your head spin.

"I love you so much, baby."

And you can't help the little wobble in your lips or the glassiness in your eyes as you rest your head against the pillow, pulling him closer with your shaky hands as you plant a little kiss on his lips.

"I love you, too, Daddy."

[babybinko]

fucking hate this guy I want to make him cry so bad.

[thisistomuchforme]

The funniest touchstarved fact ever is Veres relationship chart revealing that the only reason Leander isn't dead is because he's a masochistic bottom bitch

[i-know-the-endss]

new roman empire: colin and penelope laughing together in the carriage after being as intimate as two people can be because at the end of the day they’re still each others best friend.

[jeanmoreaue]

coming back from the dead to post an updated hyper specific/half serious tgr bingo card as opposed to my boring 🙄 one with reasonable predictions that I previously posted

[z-tomaz]

it also caught me so off guard in episode 1 in particular that the crew clearly knew how much izzy was doing to protect them from ed?? no one's saying it out loud because it won't help but the hug, and the whole scene surrounding it, says they've all quietly been paying attention and worrying about him behind his back and it was a culmination of weeks and months of living like they were while knowing that izzy was bending over backwards to absorb as much of ed's rage and heartbreak and anger as possible in order to shield the rest of them??? help??

[eosomit]

Ann dump bc i love her and her doodleable pigtails

[natsuhi-did-nothing-wrong]

Hey remember how in Lion’s fragment they fucking die

The entirety of Umineko slowly reveals all of the things that led to the tragedy, all of the little pieces, every piece of straw on the camel’s back before the one that breaks it. It unravels all these layers of tragedy until the result feels almost inevitable

And then Bernkastel comes in and is like “yeah the massacre would’ve happened anyway”

I don’t know how literally we’re supposed to take that, but it’s still so cruel. It’s such a classic Bernkastel move to reveal that all of Sayo’s inner conflict and plans were immaterial. It would’ve happened anyway. Every trauma that Sayo endured was adding straw to an already broken camel’s back. It was always going to end this way, whether Sayo was the last domino to fall or not

[mothprincess]

dizziness, brain fog, needing to lay down frequently, and heart palpitations have been a part of my life since i was a teenager. i remember the freedom that i felt before these symptoms developed. how i went from being a bright, confident child (who gave excellent class speeches and had all the kids at my birthday parties) to feeling dizzy, sick, and increasingly inward. increasingly not caring about the things that once made me happy and what once felt normal. that damaged my self-esteem for a long time. i was diagnosed with POTS a few weeks ago and, ngl, i still cry when i think about how i never asked for any of this. that and celiac feel like a lot. like my body can't do shit for itself unless i'm treating it all day, every single day. i have methods now to feel better and they work surprisingly well. legs raised, lots of water, lots of salt (so that my body can retain the water), tolerable exercise that doesn't raise my bpm painfully high, and so on. these things do help onsets of brain fog significantly. but damn. it's still sad. i'm focusing on work and my future this summer. these are the things that anchor me no matter how badly i feel. that's all.

[lilislegacy]

daydreaming about the day percy and annabeth graduate college and sobbing into my cheerios

[directactionforhope]

Might fuck around and write a book for real

[holymaccaronii]

idk if youve been sent this before but this is AM and BE coded right

No I haven’t been sent this before, and yes. YES THIS IS BEAM CODED.

Small comic of how I imagine the interaction would go lol