#(forgive me if by doing so i do you an unkindness in keeping you in this sense alive)

[ragewrites]

[pink-amethyst-tarot]

♡A message from your higher self ♡

P I L E O N E ~ P I L E T W O ~ P I L E T H R E E

Take what resonates and leave the rest

P I L E O N E : ♡ Don't Give Up On Yourself ♡

Three of Swords, The Sun (Reversed), Six of Pentacles, Nine of Pentacles

Bottom of the Deck: Three of Wands (Reversed)

I know that you have been through heartbreaking times that have made you feel as though you would never see the other side of things. You have felt that you have been at a standstill, with no kind of progression in your life. There are things that are happening in the 5D world that have not come into the 3D world yet. Please stay patient. Stay strong. Right now is the best time to take care of yourself. Focus on your inner child and doing things that make you happy and make you feel warm. I'm hearing something about cozy video games (I love those, too) and also bubble baths! You are going to receive help soon that will lead to you to your success! There is also a message of be kind to yourself when it comes to the way that you speak to yourself. You deserve love and support for yourself!

Channeled Song: Treat Myself by Victoria Justice

I need to treat myself better // I know I can't be so unkind // I know that I deserve better // If only you could hear what goes on in my mind // I wouldn't say the things I do to anybody else // So, why's it okay to say to myself // I need to treat myself better than I do//

P I L E T W O : ♡ Forgive Yourself ♡

Six of Pentacles, Three of Pentacles, Five of Cups, Temperance

Bottom of the Deck: Seven of Swords

Your higher self wants the message to start of by saying that they are just so dang proud of you! There is a version of yourself that you used to be that you weren't very proud of. In the past you may have had to do things that aren't aligned with who you are now. You aren't that person anymore though and your higher self is calling on you to finally give yourself some grace and forgiveness. You have worked so hard to get to this point and you have had to face many disappointments. You have found the balance that you have been working toward and have found a peace that you never thought could be yours. I keep hearing that message of "I'm so proud of you" and it's not just from your higher self but from maybe someone who has passed away and is on the other side, watching over you. This is someone who has seen you at your lowest and who feels so grateful that they got to watch you rise from the ashes like the phoenix they always knew you were. You have come so far. Be proud of the work that you have done. You deserve all the good things that have and will come to you.

Extra Message: It's on the way and it's going to be better than anything you could have imagined. (I don't know what this means but if it resonates with you, please take this message.)

P I L E T H R E E : ♡ You found me when no one else was looking ♡

The Star, Five of Wands, Five of Cups, Six of Cups, Page of Swords, Two of Cups

Bottom of the Deck: Ace of Swords

You are no stranger to disappointment, betrayal and heartache. I can feel that you have been through a lot but despite it all, you never lost hope. Your faith stayed strong through it all. You fought through your battles with your head held high. You found your joy through it all. You are such an inspiration to the people in your life and anyone that hears your story. People are amazed at your kindness despite all that you have been through. You may have met or will meet your soul family through sharing your story and even come into union with your soulmate/divine counterpart/twin flame. The person that you are attracting is going to be able to open up to you in ways that they never have before. It will surprise them in a good way. You are just what this person needs. I'm hearing wedding bells, white dress and banquet so if that resonates, please take that message.

I'm hearing "you are so beautiful" over and over again so this is definitely conformation that someone has a romantic person coming in and it will be life changing.

Channeled Song: You Found Me by Kelly Clarkson

You found me when no one else was looking // How did you know just where I would be? // You broke through all of my confusion // the ups and the downs and you still didn't leave // You found me//

hello! Just want to share that you can get a personal reading on my etsy!

[macsimagines]

Insecure!Darling trying to leave Yandere!Mikey

Put this into a separate post because Mikey's was sooo BIG LMFAO

TW:YANDERE BEHAVIOR, MINORS DNI, PHYSICAL ABUSE, EMOTIONAL NEGLECT, KIDNAPPING, ISOLATION, JUST REALLY FUCKED UP GUYS

Yandere!Manjiro Sano (AKA Mikey)

Does not care, and he doesn't even mean it in unkind way. It's just that he wants and loves you so how you feel doesn't really matter to him. You leaving isn't a scenario he will allow or even think is going to happen.

But the thing is he doesn't comfort you either. He doesn't tell you that it's ok, that you're good enough for him, or that he needs you because he really does.

"Mikey, I just don't think... maybe you could do better?" "That's stupid. Quit talkin' about it." He just shuts down the conversation and honestly forgets.

But he does love you. With all his black heart he honestly adores you, but this love is a very one-sided playing field. He wants your love but won't give it in return, the only time you receive affection is when you're giving it to him. Hugs and kisses and even words of devotion.

"I love you, Mikey." "I know, Y/N." And while he can't live without hearing you say it, he can live without ever saying it back.

So you try to go. As quietly as you can, you don't plan on saying anything to him honestly, because you know (or you think you do) he's not even going to bat an eyelash when he doesn't hear from you.

You write him a letter too, explaining how you know he doesn't really love or need you and that you're both better off like this, but explaining that you're always going to love and want him with all your heart...

Stupidly, you keep your distance. Trying to prepare yourself for the inevitable, and don't expect him when he shows up at your door (Or more accurately, when he kicks it in) one night while you're finishing packing.

You're too shocked to even process what's happening let alone ask him what he's doing, and he's honestly the same. Aghast to see you packing your things away... getting ready to leave him.

"...What are you doing?" is the only thing he can mutter, staring at you with this blank empty expression that scares you more than your kicked in door, "I-I... Mikey, please-!" "What. The. Fuck. ARE YOU DOING!?"

The funny thing is that you never thought Mikey was holding back in front of you. You've seen the way he fights before so you knew just how terrifying he could be, you just didn't know how petrifying it was to have it directed at you.

But he's shattering your windows, throwing your boxes and destroying their contents, wrecking furniture not even two regular people could lift, all while you cower in fear of him in a far off corner, ducking every time something comes flying at you.

Even when he's done with that rampage, he's not done being angry, his eyes are bloodshot with anger when he finally is looking at you, and you're crying so hard begging so much for him to have mercy- to please forgive you for offending him.

However, its too late for apologies. Even the attempt is a grave sin and Mikey will not excuse you just yet. He's grabbing a fist full of you hair and yanking you away from the wall like you're weightless throwing you across the floor and letting you body skid across all the debris and broken glass.

The sharp pain you feel is nothing compared to the fear though, because as soon as you stop on the ground he's on top of you, grabbing your hair again with one hand and your throat with the other.

"You said you loved me-" "I DO! I DO- Please- STOP-" "You said you needed me-" "M-Mike-y, ST-STOP, H-hurts-!" "You're not gonna leave me."

And with that, he dragging you out of the door and back to one of the safe houses he has. Muttering the whole time, "You're not gonna leave, you're not gonna leave me, I won't let you fucking leave me-"

You rot there for awhile, in a cold dark room, with no human interaction than when one of his men come in to give you food, or when he had brought some back alley doctor to patch you up.

Sometimes Mikey visits, but he just looks at you with an unreadable expression, maybe selfishly tells you that he misses your warmth and affection. You don't ever respond though, you feel like you might break if you do. Sometimes, he looks...sad? But he quickly covers it up with; "This is your own fault."

One day, he comes in looking a little worse than most days, almost panicked, then you see what he has clutched in his hands. Your letter? You honestly had forgotten what you even wrote in there...

"I...I went to your apartment. I was... I was going to get your stuff to-to make you feel a little better and I-...I found your letter, Y/N," he says, his voice sounding...choked? "I-uh- I didn't know that you... I wasn't trying to make you feel- I fu-fucked up-," and now he's crying. Like he was the one locked inside a hole and left to die.

He falls to his knees beside your mattress, and you flinch, because this is the first time he's been this close in what feels like months, and that reaction looks like it just about killed him.

"I-i did-didn't know- I- please- I love you," he whimpers, and for whatever reason his words make you sick. He never once said it to you before and now that he's finally giving you his heart in return it makes you want to rip your hair out of your head. You were good enough to love now that you were broken.

But his words don't stop, he doesn't stop, he actually embraces you in a hug ignoring the way your body seizes at his touch, how your skin burns when his tears hit it like he's crying acid.

Mikey could care less, just like before, he wouldn't pay attention to how his lack of love hurt you before or how all of it was hurting you now...

He spends that whole day crying into your chest, petting your matted hair, and promising to love you how you needed. "Your love saved me, my love can fix you," he had sworn like an idiot.

No your love had cursed you, it had damned you the moment you gave it to him, and his love had destroyed you, it was going to rip whatever was left of you apart...

But still...At least you loved each other.

[doumadono]

Warnings: intermittent explosive disorder (IED), mentions of PTSD, a lot of angst, Bakugo dealing with impulsive anger outbursts, Bakugo being mean, aged-up Bakugo, pro hero Dynamight

A/N: yesterday, while chatting with my partner about Bakugo, a thought struck me (though it's just a personal theory, subject to disagreement) - Bakugo might exhibit signs of intermittent explosive disorder. His frequent bouts of anger, his brusque and often unkind demeanor, and occasional lack of control over his temper could be indicative of this. These headcanons delves into Bakugo's life as the second-ranked pro hero, Dynamight, as he grapples with the aftermath of the war

MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST

You meet Bakugo when he's the second-ranked pro hero, right after Deku. You're drawn to his charisma, confident personality, and the way he becomes protective of you.

Unfortunately, over time, you start to notice a lot of things that are just not right. His temper is extremely short, and he can explode with anger no matter what happens. It could be something he dislikes or someone doing something he doesn't approve of, and it immediately triggers a massive rage outburst. This can lead to him losing control of his own quirk, resulting in him destroying things.

After a routine checkup, the doctor suggests taking some tests, and the results are devastating: Bakugo is diagnosed with intermittent explosive disorder.

Naturally, this news infuriates him, and when he returns to your shared flat, he destroys his own little office in a fit of rage.

Bakugo's intermittent explosive disorder makes it difficult for him to control his anger, and he will often lash out in violent outbursts.

Bakugo's intermittent explosive disorder manifests in unpredictable outbursts of anger and aggression, often triggered by seemingly minor frustrations or perceived slights. His explosions can range from verbal tirades to physical violence, leaving destruction in their wake.

During his outbursts, Bakugo lashes out verbally and physically, unaware of the damage he inflicts on those around him.

Despite his efforts to control it, Bakugo's explosive temper often alienates him from his friends and loved ones.

His relationships with people he considered colleagues or sometimes friends become strained as they struggle to understand and cope with his unpredictable behavior anymore.

You're often the target of his outbursts but refuses to give up on him, believing that beneath his volatile exterior lies a wounded soul in need of understanding and support.

Even Mitsuki tries to intervene. "Honey, you need help. This isn't healthy for you or anyone around you! We're here for you, son. We want to help you get through this."

But of course Katsuki declines. "I don't need your help! I can handle this on my own!"

Bakugo's disorder takes a toll on your relationship, testing the limits of your love and patience. There are moments when you feel helpless and overwhelmed, questioning whether you can handle the emotional rollercoaster of being with him.

You learn to recognize the signs of an impending outburst and try to diffuse the situation before it escalates, using gentle words and gestures of affection to calm him down.

Bakugo's disorder has left him feeling like a monster, like a beast that's been unleashed upon the world with no hope of redemption. He's consumed by guilt and self-loathing, convinced that he's unworthy of love or forgiveness.

Deep down, Bakugo is aware of his condition and the pain he causes, but his overwhelming anger blinds him to the consequences of his actions.

Bakugo's disorder causes him to push you away frequently, convinced that he's too dangerous to be around. He believes that he's protecting you by keeping his distance, even though it breaks his heart to do so.

Bakugo's disorder becomes a constant source of tension between the two of you, with every interaction tinged with the fear of setting him off.

Finally, after months of suggesting and almost begging, Bakugo agrees to try something new and allows you to take him to a psychiatrist. The doctor prescribes him Fluoxetine, and after some time of taking the medication, his rage and anger outbursts become smaller and less frequent.

You don't just leave it there. You suggest he should think about therapy, and after some reluctance, he agrees.

After attending several sessions, you both discover that Bakugo's disorder is linked to PTSD he developed post-war and after being dead for a while. Suddenly, everything becomes clear, and you not only understand your boyfriend better but also know how to help him effectively. Hearing about his traumatic experiences brings tears to your eyes, and you cry a river upon realizing the extent of his suffering.

Over time, and with the combined efforts of you, his parents, and his friends, Katsuki starts to make progress in managing his disorders and becomes a bit calmer with his emotions. Of course, everyone remains super careful not to do anything that might set him off.

Being Dynamight's partner is tough, and you know it better than anyone. But despite the challenges, you're not about to leave him. He's the love of your life after all, with all his strengths and weaknesses.

[sapphire-writes]

Wildest Dreams ~ Aemond x Wife!reader

request: an arranged marriage between yn and Aemond, where he has married her to win the favor of her house, but the war is on and he meets Alys and yn hears the rumors and when she hears Aemond talking about Alys with Alicent she understands that she is not a simple lover, she talks about it with Aemond and he has a certain affection for her so he tells her to have adventures if she wants to and she is heartbroken, but she does not take the offer, but Aemond thinks that eventually he will and continues with Alys until at a ball he sees yn talking to a lord of a noble house and is jealous that she eventually took up the offer. Happy or sad ending, you decide, I just want to read how you develop it. Thanks for your work! ~anon word count: 1.8k warning: angst omg, some spicy themes nothing explicit, jealous & possessive Aemond note: I really liked writing this, especially exploring the relationship between the reader and her sworn protector 🫣 you can read more of my work here 💚

My lady, my Alys.

That name haunts you. It slithers through the halls of the Red Keep. It lives in the pitying eyes of those who look upon you, the forgotten spouse of Aemond Targaryen. His wife. His princess. What a horrid sham it was now. 

You knew Aemond to be a man of duty, you knew this when you married him. Though you hoped his affection for you would grow with time, you had never expected him to stray outside the marriage. He simply did not seem the type of man to do such a thing.

Until the war. Until Alys Rivers. 

You knew the people of court were aware of the affair your husband was having with the so-called witch queen of Harrenhal. 

It only became more apparent when he returned to court on Vhagar’s back, with his paramour securely against his back. Though you haven't seen your husband in months, as soon as you spotted her with him, you excused yourself from the celebrations around his return. 

You ran to your chambers and hurriedly pushed by your sworn protector Ser Cassian who stood outside your door. 

“My lady?” he asked, with a concerned look on his face as you made your way inside. 

He noted the tears on your face. For a moment he hesitated with his hand on the door handle, preparing to close it as he heard your sobs from within. Instead, he released the handle, stepping inside your chambers. 

“It pains me to see such a lovely lady crying,” Ser Cassian says as you face away from him. 

“Yes well then I would advise you to avert your eyes,” you snap, bitterly.

Ser Cassian does not heed your advice, he simply stands in the doorway. You feel guilt begin to curl its way into your stomach, under your skin. You turn your head to him.

“You must forgive me, Ser,” you begin, keeping your gaze low, “that was unkind.”

Ser Cassian moves to close the door, and you hear his heavy footsteps make their way over to you. 

You turn completely to face the knight, who now offers you a piece of cloth. Shame rolls through you at his act of kindness, as you offer him a small smile dabbing at the wetness that pools beneath your eyes. 

“There is no need for apologies, my lady,” he tells you. 

“Then you are too kind a man,” you tell him, eyes glassy with tears.

“I only wish for your protection and happiness, my lady,” he tells you, as you hand him back his handkerchief. 

You confront Aemond later on, in the privacy of his chambers. 

“Now you bring her to court to humiliate me further,” you accuse, blood running hot with anger. 

Aemond rubs the scarred skin above his eyepatch. 

“I’ve no wish to humiliate you, dear wife,” he assures you. 

“Then why?” you demand, “why parade her at court, in front of all these people?”

Aemond stands still, his mouth a tight line. He refuses to answer you, causing you to scoff. 

“I understand you love her?” you ask your husband, unable to meet his eyes. 

There is a moment of silence between you, the weight of your question hanging in the air.

“I do,” he says firmly, confidently.

You did not know your heart could break more than it already has. 

“I wish for you to be happy,” Aemond says, coming closer to you, “I am still your husband, I shall give you children to love and cherish.”

You make an offended noise at his words, cheeks heating up. How romantic a notion, being your husband’s broodmare. 

“You may do as you like,” Aemond assures you, “as long as you bear only my trueborn children, take pleasure in whatever you wish.”

You look at him, not believing the words he speaks.

“You do not mean that,” you tell him. 

The man you married may not have loved you right away, but there was a possessive nature about him beneath the surface of his cold exterior. 

“I do,” he tells you. 

“I have no wish for anything else. For anyone else,” you tell him.

“You shall, in time,” he assures you, “you have been lonely too long.”

“You think a lover would fix that?” you snap at him.

Aemond does not answer, he simply leaves the room to go to her. 

You spend a long time in the gardens, finding solace in the flowers, bathed in moonlight. The air grows cold around you but you would rather be out here than in the castle. You swear you can hear their pants and moans from your chambers. Your husband is taking another woman. Over, and over again. 

“You should be inside, my lady,” Ser Cassian tells you, watching as your teeth chatter in the cool night air. 

He removes the cloak from his back, placing the gold cloak across your shoulders. Your shoulders drop at the weight of it. 

“Allow me to escort you inside,” Cassian murmurs, hands lingering on your shoulders. 

You meet his gaze, nodding. 

You summon Ser Cassian to your chambers the following night, hearing his knuckles rap against the wood of your door just as you exit the bath. Your lady’s maid holds a dressing gown for you to step into, covering your wet, naked form. 

“My lady,” he says, clearly flustered by your state, the dressing gown barely covering your slick body. 

“Leave us,” you tell your lady who nervously scampers towards the door, shutting it behind her. 

Your hair is damp, sending rivers of bathwater down your neck, traveling through the valley of your breasts. 

“I can return when you are decent,” he manages to choke out.

“There is no need,” you assure him, “I am quite comfortable in your presence.”

Ser Cassian does not know where to look, he does not wish to offend you but is finding it increasingly difficult to focus.

“You once told me you wished for my happiness and protection,” you told him, “the latter is true. How are you supposed to assure the other?”

Cassian blinks slowly, eyes focused on your lips as you speak those words, the shimmering of water that rests on your upper lip. You look as though you are a river nymph who has come to seduce him to a watery grave. 

You begin to walk towards him, hands fiddling with the straps that tie your dressing gown securely around your waist. 

“I shall do whatever my lady commands,” Cassian says, eyes cast toward the floor. 

“I do not wish to command,” you say softly, “I wish to offer.”

Cassian meets your eyes then. He is very handsome, with dark brown eyes that match his curly locks. 

“You need not offer anything, my lady,” he assures you. 

“I want to,” you tell him. 

“If you do not wish this, that is fine,” you tell him, “I only ask you to leave and forget this conversation and we shall go about as we once were. Though I shall admit, I will feel rather foolish.”

Cassian watches the blush bloom across your cheeks. 

“Otherwise, you need only take my hand.”

You stretch your arm out toward him and for a moment he does not move. For a moment, your breath catches in your throat and you are sure he shall turn on his heel and leave your chambers. Then you shall be left alone once more. 

But he does not.

Instead, he places his rough hand in yours and allows you to guide him toward your bed, replacing your dressing robe with his lips, his tongue, and his hands. 

You have been happier as of late. Aemond has taken notice. You walk with a skip in your step, a flush on your cheeks. 

The maester has been said to visit your chambers weekly with a special brew. 

Aemond knows you have taken a lover. The knowledge curls in his stomach like a hissing snake, though he attempts to deny it. How hypocritical is he, to deny his wife happiness when he has found his own in another woman’s bed?

It isn’t until Maelor's name day celebration does he realize how furious your endeavors make him; the fire it ignites beneath your skin. 

The feast is a grand affair with singing and dancing, and several lords and ladies visiting from across the seven kingdoms. 

Aemond and you arrive together, but you quickly let go of his arm and make your way into the crowd. 

Alys is not present, as Alicent will not allow it. A paramour at court is scandalous in itself, she will not subject you to feast with her. 

Aemond keeps his eye on you, as you begin to dance. He watches the dreamlike look on your face, the way your cheeks redden and you cast your smile toward the floor as someone joins you.

He is a goldcloak, and Aemond recognizes him. The knight smiles down at you, entrapping you in a dance. Your smile widens as he whispers something to you, and your cheeks darken. Aemond feels a fire in his belly as he watches you dance with the knight, a strange sense of possessiveness flooding through him. 

Aemond moves through the dance quickly coming to your side. His hand finds yours dragging you toward the center of the dance floor. You struggle to keep up with his demanding pace, your wrist stinging from how tightly he holds you. 

The dance continues around you, people hardly noticing Aemond’s predatory circling of you.

“Is that who you desire?” he asks, voice low.

Your furrow your brow, a confused expression on your face.

“Is he whom you invited into your bed?” Aemond growls. 

“I did not think it mattered to you,” you quip back, anger evident in your tone.

“You choose a whoremonger for a paramour,” Aemond says sneering, trying to bait you. 

“And you a witch woman,” you snap, causing Aemond’s face to darken, “who I choose to spend my time with is of no concern to you.”

Aemond growls at this, an animalistic noise that comes from deep within his chest, that causes you to back up slightly. 

“You cannot have it both ways,” you tell him, noting his genuine anger. 

Aemond is breathing heavily, looking down at you, his mouth twisted in a sneer.

“You cannot have me, and her,” you continue feeling brave.

Aemond juts his chin out. 

“What makes you think I shall allow you to keep him?” he says referring to Ser Cassian.

You smirk then, stepping closer to him. 

“I shall just find someone else,” you tell him bitterly.

Aemond snaps forward, wrapping his hand around your throat and pulling you flush against him. The action sends a wave of warmth into your lower belly. You know you should be terrified, you should try to run screaming. But you do not. And when he brings his mouth to yours, you kiss him back.

When he leads you to your chambers, you let him.

When he roughly tears your dress from your body, you assist him. 

When he makes passionate love to you, nipping and biting your smooth flesh, you allow him to.

Aemond stays with you that night. 

Alys Rivers vanishes from the Red Keep before the sun rises. 

note: ooof im sweating 🥵

[utilitycaster]

on Laura's characters

This has been rattling around for a bit, and I've notably been pretty critical of how Laura's characters have been treated by the fandom, and I think a lot of the discussion of Imogen, overlaid with the discussion of Vex during TLOVM, has put it into to focus for me:

Laura plays characters that allow her to explore a lot of very selfish or self-serving behaviors, as well as the dark side of selflessness. This is, in my opinion, one of the very last lines people are squeamish about female characters crossing - and it's across the board, too. People who are comfortable with supporting women's wrongs often balk at supporting women's uglier, smaller choices, particularly for women who are otherwise portrayed as heroic. Sacrifice is still seen in a lot of women-centric media as the greatest gesture, and works where women are unabashedly self-serving are harder to find. It's why Delilah's nonstop villainy in the name of love gets a pass, but few people look head on at Vex's petty cruelty to Keyleth.

Vex is an incredibly selfish person. She is also unique among Laura's characters in realizing this about herself, and not liking it very much. It's mostly sympathetic - what are D&D shopkeepers but opportunities to haggle and ask weird questions, and Vex's anxieties about money are very justified - but less so when it comes to her possessiveness of Vax. It's very understandable that she feels protective and possessive towards him, but that doesn't negate her unkindness. Vex pressures Keyleth to the point of tears at least once (granted, it was a difficult day for everyone) and pushes at Vax as well, to the point where it causes a small but definite rift between them. At worst, this selfishness - this desire to have Vax for herself - is turned into jealousy of Vax, rather than of Keyleth, so that it can be reframed as in the name of romantic love (which is considered a more acceptable form of selfishness than familial, but that's for someone far wiser than I to unpack). However, even when that doesn't happen, it's often glossed over. The same is true for Vex stealing the broom. It's fine if you disagree with the alignment change decision - I don't particularly care for it - and Laura certainly didn't deserve hate for taking the item of a character who would never show up again. But it is a purely self-centered choice. She wants to fly, she sees a way to do so, and she takes the broom of an ally and lies about it. There's no in-game justification for this being anything but selfish, and it says a lot about her character that she does it, but the things it says are messy and difficult. I don't think you can appreciate Vex's full arc without understanding that it is her pushing past this selfishness. Holding grudges is perhaps the most selfish act of all, of keeping all that hurt to yourself and never granting forgiveness. "Sineath" is about a lot of things, but that is one of them.

Jester is much less selfish when it comes to material things, but she is, especially early on, frequently inconsiderate or insensitive. It comes from a place that is devoid of malice, but definitely does not think through the ramifications for others. This shows up when she's dismissive of sums of money that are immense for Caleb but mean little to her, or her willingness to deface temples despite the risk. However, Jester is, far more, an exploration of the darker side of selflessness. What does someone feel, when they think they must constantly be a light to those around them? Where do their frustrations come out? We see that it weighs on Jester in how difficult she finds it to balance the responsibilities and demands of Artagan during Traveler Con, and again, when she becomes aware of the potential self-sacrifice needed in Eiselcross. Vex had to learn to let go of Vax and her grudges and her need for approval from people who would never give it; Jester has to learn to start taking and putting herself first.

And then there's Imogen. Vex and Jester's selfishness was tempered by their extroversion and empathy, which at times makes it easier to ignore. While they may have self-interests, and struggle to regulate what they do or do not give (in different directions), they do, in the end, like people on the whole. Imogen does not. It's understandable, given the stress they put on her, but her powers and her judgement mean that she is a lot less able to create boundaries between them and herself. As a result, when she lets herself become closer to people, she doesn't recognize when treating her friends as a sounding board might be hurtful or insulting to them. This comes out notably in her repeated consideration of the Vanguard's position. It's fascinating because it can be seen as her trying to understand other people, especially her mother and the members of the Vanguard we've seen. There is legitimate hurt behind Tuldus, Ludinus, Liliana, and Otohan's motivations; but the person to talk over this with is not Orym, whose husband and father-in-law were innocent collateral damage to these plans, nor Laudna, who was murdered by Otohan.

I think people really shy away from the dark sides of all of these characters. People tend to focus on Vex's competence, Jester's role as the heart and light in the party, and Imogen's trauma, without realizing these are all perpetuated by that exploration of selfishness and selflessness. But given how central this is to all three of these characters, I think this is also why the fandom is often so quick to turn on them - they do not want to face how much Vex cares about her father and Vax, or how what Jester needs is not unconditional support nor concrete instructions, but honesty and a willingness to listen, or that Imogen has the capacity to do great harm to those she loves and does so, but these are all major parts of those characters. Ignoring that is how people believe Vex's arc is underserved; it's not, but you can only see it if you are willing to admit who she is at the start. It's easier for them to consider a Jester frozen in the early part of the campaign than the far more emotionally mature woman she becomes because of what it says about selfishness.

Imogen is interesting, because I've actually seen far more arguments of her as a complete monster than those absolving her. If Imogen becomes more unsure at Orym's words and needs a complete lack of judgment to come around that makes her truly heartless and unfeeling, rather than someone who has an understandably if unintentionally cold and strange way of understanding thoughts vs. words. vs. actions. I suspect this is because both Imogen herself, and the fandom, have less of a grasp on Imogen as her own person. And, to be fair, this is true of the fandom's perception of Vex and Jester; they just had better in-universe senses of self. But I'm interested in seeing if the perception of Imogen shifts back to how it was prior to episode 48, which is a more consistent discomfort with the way she puts herself first.

[spooky-pomegranate]

A letter from Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

Summary: Ghost writes you a letter after Price unexpectedly sends you into witness protection, breaking your heart. With a looming threat of an attack from a terrorist organization on the horizon, Ghost urges you to mend fences with Price or at least play nice until the enemy is thwarted. Should you hear him out?

I’m not sure how to start this. All I can hope for is that you won’t throw this letter into the ocean until you’ve finished reading it. I’ve heard Laswell sent you somewhere on the beach. That’s nice I guess. I’m not a big fan of the ocean, but I know most people are. Maybe you are. You and I never talked about anything like that, but maybe you did with Johnny? He’s a big fan of the water. He’s always yammering on about wanting to take a vacation somewhere tropical. He says tropical resorts just have ‘better water sports.’ Whatever that means. Maybe Laswell can send him your way when he starts feeling better. I know he’d like to spend the time with you. He’s a fan of yours. Kyle too. They’ve told me a lot about you over these last few days.

And I want to apologize for that. Not for listening to them, but for not listening to you. I’m sorry I didn’t get to know you on my own. You have to understand John is my brother. I don’t mean in some ‘brother in arms’ sort of bullshit way. I mean I consider him my family, my kin, my blood. He’s the closest thing I have to the real thing these days, so I’m protective of him, but I’ve done it in a way that has been unkind toward you.

I was suspicious of you when we first met. I thought that your entrance into John’s life was going to bring him harm. Whether you were going to do so maliciously or in a less nefarious way I wasn’t quite sure. But I was wrong and I’d like to apologize to you.

You have changed John. He's more at ease now than I've seen him in years. He laughs more. So much more, and it's a sound that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get out of my head. It's not a funny laugh, but one filled with genuine joy. It's stupid and infectious and it even has started to rub off on Johnny and Kyle. They both look less tense these days.

But you haven’t just made John a different man outside of the field, somehow you’ve changed him on it too. He fights differently. I don’t know how to explain it other than to say he’s more focused now. More determined. It’s like he’s fighting not just for the mission objective, but for something beyond it. Something personal. Maybe that’s just what it looks like when someone fights beyond duty or honor. I’m not sure. But you’ve made him a better soldier and leader for it. So thank you because I don’t think I would be here without your effect on him. What happened at the hangar is the closest we’ve come to death in a long time and I know that’s probably shaken John more than he’s let on.

If you are still reading this, I have a favor to ask of you. I know I don’t have any right to. My initial skepticism and rudeness toward you probably caused you a lot of pain, and for that, I am truly sorry. But John needs your help. So please come back to the States and help him end these terrorists for good.

I don’t know what’s been said between you, but I’m sure you’re in the right. Don’t tell him I said this but John tends to be a stubborn ass. So please forgive him. Or at least, help him through this and I promise I’ll keep him from you for as long as you wish.

I’ll be in your debt.

Sincerely,

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

P.S. You two weren’t as sly as you thought. It wasn’t hard to see something more was going on between you when you wreaked like an ashtray all the time and I’ve never seen you smoke.

—————————————————————

(More from this story on AO3)

[aspiring-house-husband]

certain werewolves were quite good at living among the rest of the world. some were not. luckily, these wolves often find themselves in loving homes that take good care of them and ensure their success in society. 

you are one of these such homes. you have a werewolf- a handsome, kind, considerate wolf. at least he’s those things most of the time. . . though always handsome, he could sometimes be inconsiderate with your time, stealing you away from important matters to have you speared on his knot, or he could be unkind, and deny you your orgasm until he felt you were needy enough for him. so you needed to take drastic measures to calm him. 

you locked a shock collar around his neck. one wrapped in soft but sturdy leather but with a core of metal that his claws could not tear through. and one equipped with a secret surprise. 

you were cooking dinner one night when he found you from behind and slipped his claws through your clothes. you recognized that he meant to tear them from you, but you pressed a button strapped to your wrist before he could. 

he yelped and backed from you, rubbing at his collar. you turned to him and combed your fingers into his fur. 

“shh, sweetheart,” you told him, “wasn’t that lovely? that collar is your new friend, and it’s going to help you learn to behave for me. you’ll be a good boy, won’t you?” 

your wolf nods and so gently places his hands on your hips. he gets a kiss for his obedience, but you turn back to your meal before it burns. 

it takes only an hour for his lesson to fade. as you eat the dinner meant to feed you both, he slips under the table and clumsily shoves his face between your thighs, so you shock him again. 

“you will learn to behave like a good puppy,” you tell him, knotting your fingers into his hair. “and you will eat me out while i finish dinner without making a mess of either of us, like a civilized member of society.”

you cum just after you finish the entree. joyfully, he has managed not to emerge from your hole dripping and salivating. maybe he’s learning. 

a week goes by. then a month. his behavior is improving, turning him into a gentlemanly puppy for you. his eyes glaze over when he sees the button on your wrist, and he drops to his knees whenever you press it. 

“beg for forgiveness, puppy,” you tell him, and he whines and rubs his face against your thigh. “there’s my good boy, pretty boy. do you need to relieve your aching knot, pup?” he nods and opens his mouth to gnaw on your soft leg, but does not sink his teeth, for he knows the consequences. 

“good boy, good puppy. you may have me.” like a gentleman he sweeps you from your feet and takes you to the bedroom, where his knot is hard and pulses inside you for hours. you press the button when he cums, just to feel how it makes him spasm an extra time inside you. stuck on his knot and nestled against his chest, you play with it around his neck. you’ve since hung a charm on the leather that reads ‘my puppy’ from the column of his throat. 

“who do you belong to, puppy?” you ask him, and he kneads his fingers into you. 

“good boy. and who do you obey?” he does the same, pulling your hips a little closer to him. 

“that’s right. and your collar helps you obey, doesn’t it?” he nods and brings your hand to his face, the button on your bracelet catching his eye. he softly presses it for himself, and you both watch as his eyes flutter back and feel while he pumps cum into you anew. 

“that’s my good boy. you just keep letting your collar think for you, and keep listening to my voice. you’re mine. my words are your thoughts, puppy. your collar is your friend. don’t you want to feel good some more?”

he nods, and you can’t deny his throbbing cock nor his dumb unfocused eyes another press of your button. 

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

I have a bestie, who is just the sweetest person I know, incredibly kind, warmest heart, etc. Problem is, she has a memory the size of a gnat. Because I also have memory problems, I forgive her most the time, when you're late it just happens! I understand! I get it!

3 out of the last 4 times we've tried to hang out however, she's canceled.

First time she never showed, turns out she was busy getting a boyfriend.

Second was a new years thing that had no problems.

Third was a catch up dinner that she canceled day of due to oops! Forgot she booked dinner with the boyfriends parents that day.

Last was going to the movies to see barbie, I knew she'd love it so I asked if she'd like to come, we picked the day, best day available for her was over a week later, I bought the tickets (and invited a couple others bc I had A Feeling) and reminded her day before through multiple messaging services the time and place. She said yes. Until day of, when she canceled again.

A few days ago she sent me a text, apologizing for being a shitty friend, and could she make it up to me with an apology dinner.

Am I the asshole if I say no? I know I'm not like, her best friend, but she's been so VERY late a LOT over the years I've known her, 30-90 mins late is not unusual for her, plus these cancelations last min, idk if she'd even show up to this apology dinner. She clearly hasn't put me as a priority for a WHILE now, and idk if I want to be shown, again, how little I mean to her.

Propaganda for her: I KNOW she doesn't do it on purpose. I know there's a very good chance when she sent me that apology text, she was crying. She is an incredibly loving person, and I've never seen her do something unkind. Her mom is incredibly controlling, telling her that she can't come home unless she's willing to do whatever mommy says, yet keeps her childhood room in place. Her mom was my boss for two years, she never gets time off from work, if you understand what I mean. I'm also pretty sure this friend needs meds, bc I think she's self medicating with alcohol and boyfriends.

What are these acronyms?

[panelshowsource]

today is a very special day!

well, whaddya know — i started this blog 6 years ago today, on 2 october 2017 (◠‿◠)

as an american without any friends who enjoyed british comedy and panel shows as much as i did (do...), this began as a little space for me to share both the big and small things that made me laugh! i discovered just the breadth of the community and many corners of it were doing the same thing, even so far as sharing links and uploads to watch this foreign content — and that made me want to help in any way i could, too. i think that's how so many of you found me — because of my public googledrive content — and it's great fun that you're here!

you all send me so much love and so many compliments, you share my posts, you make requests, you tell me about your favourite shows and what you're enjoying, you offer me resources, and you forgive me when i have a stupid opinion or disappear for a little while. on tumblr, twitter, reddit, discord — i see my blog being shared and excitement around it. as someone who does not create these files — who does not have uk cable, who does not rip live broadcasts or streams or dvds; who simply sources content, pays $10 a month for some cloud space, and takes the risk of sharing it publicly — it feels like a lot more than i deserve to be treated quite so nicely by everyone. i really appreciate it (´･ᴗ･ ` )

i'll try to be better at making gifs and checking for typos, posting a greater variety of content, updating my drive more quickly, answering more asks, and keeping the space free of drama & negativity. i don't spend much time online outside of this blog because the internet is just so damn unkind — but this space feels like a great exception, a silly little bubble. thank you for being the greatest reason for that.

♡ hugs for all of you 🫂x10k

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

A/N = Testing my feetsies with writing the big man himself, Gyomei.

C/W = F!reader // y/n. Strangers -> bed pretty quick, some fingering, oral [M->F], P->V & V->P, some negative self-talk that's quickly remedied. As always, if I missed anything (grammar etc.) horrific, lmk.

🔞 under the cut.

"Unknown Number"

Do you see that enormous man in the corner with his friends?" Your girlfriend asked as she was trying to be sly and not give away the position of her gaze. "He's ... he's ... fuck, he's huge."

You followed her line of sight and saw him in the back of the room. Sitting with a few other men. All of whom were equally as beautiful. But there was something about this brick wall of a man that made your whole body tingle.

His hair was jet black. His eyes a stark white in contrast to his short locks. His shoulders looked as though he could barely fit through the door of this restaurant. The calloused marks on his enormous hands sounded scratchy against the cloth of his pants as he casually rubbed his thighs.

He was beautiful, and that's precisely why he'd never bother with someone like you. You weren't ugly, per se. But you felt you lacked certain criteria that you made sure to convince your other friends they had. They always gratefully accepted your kind words but never found it in themselves to reciprocate the simple gesture.

"We have to go to the little girls room, be back in a few. Just order us some water." Your friends said as they scooted from the table.

You were alone now. No more chatter. Just the muffled sounds of your friends' voices on the other side of the room.

"Excuse me ... " a deep voice spoke behind you. You turn. It was the gorgeous man that you'd been ogling. He's standing right in front of you. "Your voice is so lovely. My name is Gyomei. What's your name?"

"My name is y/n. My girls should be right back. You can go tell your friends that."

He chuckles and shakes his head. His hands reach over to glide down your form. From head to toe.

"Ummm ... Is, is there something I can help you with ... what ... I ... my friends are probably more up your alley as far as looks g-"

"Shh. Not at all." Gyomei smiles. "Please don't feel as though you can't relax and talk to me because I'm lacking conventional sight. I see just fine. Don't doubt that. And you're beautiful." He gently caresses your cheek, making sure to catch his thumb over your lips before sliding it down your neck and to the valley between your breasts. "In fact, I'd like to know more about you."

You're a bit startled at how boldly he was touching you. It wasn't rough or unkind in any way. It was certainly something that was new to you. A man needing to touch you to see if you were up to his standards. It was a nice change of pace. You kinda liked it.

You don't know why, but you believe him. You do something completely out of character that night. You leave your friends and go with this stranger to his home.

"Can I get you anything to drink?" He asks. You reply, trying to keep yourself from stammering and blushing like a schoolgirl.

"I'm fine for now, thank you."

"What is your favorite color, y/n?"

"Um ... Red."

Gyomei laughs softly.

You swallow thickly as his hand glides down your arm.

You clear your throat.

"It's quite all right. Forgive me, this is how I get to know people ... and more intimately, the people I care about. I can stop if you'd prefer. I do not wish to make you uncomfortable, y/n."

You nervously look at your phone and notice a few missed messages. You should probably go. But you're so taken with the stranger who sees with his fingertips that you're having a hard time convincing even yourself.

"What's wrong, y/n? You can talk to me."

"I should get home, Gyomei."

He starts rubbing your back until you relax and let out a small moan.

"That's too bad. But I understand. May I call a car for you? I do not like the idea of you walking alone this late at night." He said.

You really don't want to leave.

You're starting to give yourself the speech: My phone is 83%. I have full service bars. This is a nice neighborhood. I don't have work tomorrow. What if I stayed?

"Y/n," his large hand reaches up to your face and he tilts his head to the side and leans down to kiss your neck. It sends you into a near fit. "Oh," you whispered as the air left your lungs.

"Was that ok? May I do it again?" His voice was as heavy as velvet: It weighed you down so divinely and it felt so warm against your skin.

"Can I taste you?" Gyomei whispers in your ear.

"M-mmhm." You say as he lifts you into his arms.

He gently carries you to his bedroom, places you on your back, and moves between your legs. He hooks his thick finger under your dress and pulls your panties aside.

"Uh, p-please!" You beg as you move your hands to your pussy.

You gasp when he takes hold of your wrist.

"I can tell by your scent how much you want this. So you don't need to touch yourself. Let me make you feel good."

You nod and gasp when his lips make contact with the tip of your clit. You never knew having someone go down on you could feel so good. You feel so warm and relaxed. Gyomei pulls your legs open wider and dips his tongue inside you, moaning against your pussy as he tastes you. You can't help but cry out.

"Y/n, y/n, y/n. You taste so sweet." Gyomei moans as he runs his tongue back up to your clit.

You gasp when he starts rubbing your clit between his fingers as his tongue dips back inside of you.

"Oh my god," You cry.

He hums, pleased with himself.

You squeeze your eyes shut as he pushes a finger inside of you and continues sucking on your clit. His tongue joins in, tasting all of you as you start to become more and more wet.

You cry out when your orgasm hits you and you feel him lapping it all up before pulling his tongue back. He then lifts his face and kisses your pussy and moves to lay beside you, petting your thighs.

"I want to feel your face when you cum for me." Gyomei says, rubbing your breasts.

"O-oh, ok." You whimper.

"Am I too rough?"

You shake your head. "N-not at all."

"You are very sensitive to my touch, aren't you? Just like me. I can feel it in your body, how soft you are." Gyomei purrs as he rubs his fingertips along your neck and between your breasts.

He grunts an exhalation when he feels your nipple harden under his fingertips.

"Gyomei, you're not just some blind guy from a sushi place, are you?" You gasp and cover your mouth. Ashamed at how brazen you just were.

Gyomei lifts himself up and brings his face closer to yours.

"No, not really. There's much to learn, y/n. I don't see a single thing wrong with me, though." He grins. "Your energy is very vibrant. And your hands ... I'm very much intrigued with your hands. They're the hands of a kind woman." He takes one of your hands into his own and kisses it. "But that is not all. The feel of your lips, the softness of your thighs. You have a small frame but your energy is big and strong." He continues.

You gulp. "You, you think I'm small?" You'd heard of people like Gyomei before. You knew how he could just tell certain things about you.

He rubbed your belly. A place you were always painfully self-conscious about. This might even be the first time you've ever let anyone pay such close attention to what you feel is one of your biggest failures.

He got close to your ear and whispered, "You're very soft and delicate. You smell of a very sweet spice. I could go on and on. You are the most beautiful girl I've ever met."

You sigh contently as you grip his arms. He's holding you beneath him.

"I should go now ... I've kept you long enough." You whispered.

He nuzzles his face to your neck, inhaling. "Please, I want you here." He moans.

You tremble as his hands travel down your body. You're so turned on you can't even formulate a thought in your mind.

You whimper when he tugs down the zipper on the side of your dress, opening it and exposing your body.

"I want you. All of you." Gyomei purrs.

You yell out when he takes your panties and tears them from your body.

"Oh god." You whisper.

You're so wet now that if you walked down a flight of stairs you'd probably slip and die.

That's enough of a reason for you to stay.

Your first time together was so gentle it almost made you cry from impatience.

He was painfully slow. But you learned that it heightened every sense and nerve ending on your body.

"Y/n. Oh ... oh g-god, you're so tight." Gyomei whispers, kissing you deeply as he enters you.

You moan loudly as his hands grasp your thighs. Your legs wrapped around his waist. You were already so close you were losing your mind.

"Gyomei, m-more!" You cry.

You moan loudly as he moves his hand to your face, cupping it as his thrusts become harder and more urgent. He moans your name into the shell of your ear as you cling to him, squeezing his hips with your thighs. It hurt a little, but you wanted to be bruised.

"Gyomei," you mewl.

He kisses you and moves his hips harder, grinding as his cock deep inside of you.

He stretched you just beyond your threshold. It was the most delicious thing you've ever felt. Your moans grew louder until your body shuddered.

"Y/n ... not yet, not yet Kitten." Gyomei pants.

He keeps kissing you and fucks you harder until your orgasm washes over you again. You grip the sheets as you whine his name.

"Oh my god!" You cry out as he keeps fucking you through it.

You gasp and hold his face between your hands.

"You're too much!" You cry.

Gyomei chuckles, kissing you.

"Y/n ... please tell me what you need ... I will give it to you."

You gulp.

"I've ... I've never really been with someone ... who could do ... well, what you do." You say softly.

Gyomei moves his hands down your body and over your ass. He groans, feeling the soft flesh give in his immense hands. He grips your waist, running his fingers over the softness of your stomach and hips.

"You're perfect. Y/n, you're so perfect for me." He praises, kissing you.

"Fuck," you whisper, admiring him. He's perfect.

He groans, "Y/n." His fingers glide over your hair. He's petting you. You close your eyes, feeling the love in his caress. You get goosebumps as you say his name. His hands glide down your body, reaching up to grasp your tits. He's practically in tears, squeezing them.

"Oh ... god," You whisper.

He pulls you up onto his cock. You tremble slightly when he starts to thrust up into you.

"You feel it too?" He whispers, moving you on top of his lap.

You lay your head back, rolling your hips as he moves his hands in time with your ass.

"Gyomei, cum for me. I want to feel you let go." You say, feeling the hardness of his cock dip in and out of you.

Gyomei starts to lose his composure, kissing you deeply and holding your head in place as he pushes his tongue into your mouth. He pants heavily as he fucks you hard, his hands on your waist as he moves you up and down.

"I'm so close ... " Gyomei pants. You cry out as you feel his cock twitching inside you. "Y/n, y/n ... " He moans.

You bite your lip, watching as he pulls you down on top of him as he cums inside of you. You hold him as he fucks his load into your pussy, breathing heavily. He moves his head to your shoulder, kissing it gently.

"Y/n, I l–."

You gasp. "W-what?" You ask.

He pulls you off of his hips, lays you down on the bed next to him, and kisses you.

"I ... I ... don't know how to say it. I just feel so close to you."

You frown, wondering if he's going to say he's in love with you. But, it's not necessarily a bad thing. He's just saying what he feels. It's nothing more or less than that.

"It's not my fault I'm blind. But I have good eyes."

You scoff. "You are ridiculous."

He chuckles, "But ... you like me that way."

You smirk. "Maybe ... what do I get out of it?" You tease.

He gasps, "Oh g-god ... how do you do that ... I ... I don't know ... anything."

Gyomei grunts, pushing you back into the bed.

"I have never felt like this before." he says, kissing your neck. "The sun is coming up. Can you feel it?

You pick up your phone and turn on the screen and look at your text messages. "Oh, I have a couple of texts. Probably my friends checking on m–"

Unknown Number: It's Gyomei. Are you free this morning?

Unknown Number: I want to take you out.

"What the... ?" You say, more than confused.

Gyomei has since gotten up and dressed himself. He stands at the side of the bed with his hand outstretched to you.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm taking you to breakfast," he says with the sweetest smile on his face.

It took you a second to understand what was happening. "So, at some point last night, you put your number into my phone ..."

Gyomei laughed. "I had one of your friends sneak it out of your purse last night and she put it in for me. And when you got up for some water a couple of hours ago, I texted you, hoping you wouldn't hear it and check it right away. I may have been a little overzealous in my attempts at distracting you. But, what do you say? Will you have breakfast with me?"

"I would love to, Gyomei." You got dressed and the two of you walked to a café, hand in hand, and had tea and rice.

[cool-cowboy]

Summary:

In which Leon is the priest of your church, a very kind and noble man, who you, against the church’s (and your shitty husband’s) wishes have grown quite fond of, confession being one of the few times you get to relish the one on one attention. Little do you know, your godly priest has been having some not so godly thoughts about you as well.

I have literally no idea. Leon in a sweet caring kind of way, but kinda out of character, since he's a 1600's priest and speaks hopefully like one. A bit of a historical thing, the idea popped into my head and I did some research, and found out it used to be pretty common for married women to enjoy their confessions, often falling for the men on the other side of the wall.

Tags:

Alternate Universe - Medieval, Catholicism, Catholic Guilt, Adultery, Confessional Sex, sex in the confession booth, Dominant Leon S. Kennedy, Dirty Talk, Clothed Sex, Priests, Priest Leon S. Kennedy, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Making Out, Semi-Public Sex, Eye Contact, Penis In Vagina Sex, Come Shot, Skirts

Blurb:

“You find me godly?”

“Perfectly… Though you are the cause of many other's sins, so perhaps you are sinful…”

Text:

“Bless me father, for I have sinned. My last confession was Wednesday.” He’s staring at me, in his usual way, open and accepting, ready to hear all about my wrong-doings, one of them a cardinal sin, no less. I’m not sure what it is, why he has such a draw, roping me in and making me forget my teachings over and over, his looks and person much too sinful for such a godly man. “I was rude, I spoke unkind words to Stephan. I refused him… When, um, when he-”

“There is no judgment here, only forgiveness. There’s no need to be nervous.” I nod, not looking at him, embarrassed to be confessing yet another tiff with my husband, sure the father is tired of hearing about my disrespect. He reaches through the little door, something he’s not supposed to do, but often does, getting my attention or soothing me down after a particularly nasty sin is disclosed, something that only causes further sin, the feel of his kind hands always forcing some further than friendly thoughts into my mind, never fessed up in my confessions, which is probably my biggest offense to god to date. He makes me look at him, tilts my head up by my chin, stares at me in his quiet, sweet way, soft eyes always able to draw out my deepest secrets without much prompt. “Tell me.” He always seems more interested to hear about my transgressions toward my husband, for why I don’t know, but it’s better than the harsh judgement of my childhood priest, anyways, so I try not to dwell too much.

“He wanted to… Bed me. I refused… It’s my duty to bear children, but I- He isn’t… I hate him.” The truth, something I’ve been toeing the line of for a while, only confessing the passing sins rather than my most heinous one, but he’s known all along, doesn’t seem surprised at all when I meet his eyes, maybe a little amused, but I don’t believe that, he has no reason to be, only reason to assign me a hefty penance.

“I see… That is… Quite the confession. Don’t look so fearful, miss, you know I’m a believer in earning your keep, and it doesn’t seem Mr. Belman is trying his best to do so.” My throat’s dry, my swallow barely making it down, his eyes on my making me sweat, my skirts making me feel a little faint, claustrophobic in the small booth. “A bad man does not deserve a woman as godly as you, at least I don’t see him as fit.” He’s not meant to give his opinion, only fact, that or prompt me to better help me lay my secrets out to him, but he always tries to make me feel better, in a way, for the wrongs I’ve committed, well aware of my repentance, and my desire to do better.

“You find me godly?” I’m really not, most ladies who attend the mass are a whole lot more godly than me, almost perfect Catholics. He smiles, soft and kind, making me sin all over again, though I’m unsure what I can do to keep from sinning in this way, my thoughts not easily controlled, especially for him, a man no woman has ever had the pleasure of pleasing, a man who’s devoted his whole being to serving the lord, but still manages to be entirely enticing, his unattainableness adding a sinful edge to his allure.

“Perfectly… Though you are the cause of many other's sins, so perhaps you are sinful…” He’s amused, and I’m confused, not an idea what he means by that. I stare at him, not incredibly eager to get on with my confession, more than willing to let him keep talking as long as he likes. “You’re an object of many’s affections, miss, and envy as well…” He’s going against his oath, speaking of other’s sins outside their own confessions, giving me a shred of all that he knows, offering it up with a relaxed expression, watching me, assumedly waiting on me to continue telling him, but I’m not ready yet, need a little longer, a few more moments of his soft stare before I tell him, tear down the image he’s painted of me in his head, desecrate his idea of me.

“Father..? Who do you confess to?” He smiles, only a little, amused for some secret reason, his gaze a little hazy, his hands smoothing down the front of his robe, the sound of him clearing his throat a little loud in the small space.

“Myself, I suppose… Though there’s something I find more suitable to confess to you.” My brows draw down, unsure why he’d have anything to confess to me, if he’s able to repent and move on without any type of formal confession, but I wait patiently, not wanting to sin again by disrespecting the father. He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, just stares at me with his head tilted a little to one side, his gaze hazy, his smile barely pulling at one side of his lips, his face close to mine, just on the other side of the little confessional door, his breath warm on my skin. “Forgive me miss, for I have sinned.” He watches me, signing a cross over his chest, a little slow, the anticipation making me feel feverish, wet palms wiped on the front of my skirts while I wait, not bringing my eyes from him, wary to miss a second of his terribly enticing gaze. “I have committed the sin of lust. My craving for you is ungodly, and I have performed self-pleasing adultery to the mere thought of you too many times to count.” I have not a single clue what to say, just stay perfectly still, feeling sick at the pleased feeling burning my skin, flaming and not at all what I should feel in response to his reveal.

“Father, I-”

“I am sorry for this and all my sins.” He doesn’t seem sorry, more confused, staring at me in a way that makes me near fainting, all heat and intensity, trying to unravel his own desires. “You may continue.” I swallow, looking down at my hands, now much too afraid to tell him, to reciprocate his lust, unable to do anything about it, aware I’m bound to Stephan, and he is never to be wed.

“I told a lie.” It isn’t something I usually need to confess, I’m not even sure why I did it, needlessly covering up my actions to keep Stephan as far from figuring out my adulterous thoughts as possible, though he’d never suspect a tryst between the father and I. “I told Stephan I was going to the market on Wednesday, when I came to see you.” I let my eyes come up, flitting from my lap to his hands, clasped over his lap, up to his face, seeming a little pleased, adding to my unease, his feelings now out in the open, glad to be a subject of sin for me as well, I suppose. The others are being noisy, the church overly full today, the last session before Christmas, eager to be forgiven.

“Why did you lie?” I look back down, unwilling to look at him when I tell him, give him the satisfaction of reciprocated lustful feelings and actions.

“I didn’t want him to become suspicious.” He hums, ducking down a little to draw my eyes back up, looking at me pleasedly, not at all bashful in the way he should be, never the one to be shy, always so open, even now, after he’s told me about his self-pleasing to me.

“Suspicious?” He’s enjoying himself, too casual to be questioning me about what has become so glaringly obvious, backing me into a figurative corner and forcing it out of me, something he’s entirely too good at, receiving confession after confession and helping numerous work through their own minds.

“I have committed the sin of lust.” He’s looking at me, not that I can see, my eyes cast down at his hands, listening to the sounds of people mulling about outside, stretching out the quiet between us to steel myself for what I say next. “I’ve been having impure thoughts about you, father. Please forgive me.” He hums, one of his hands lifting up out of my view, this whole thing making me feel sick from guilt, adulterous behavior one of the few things I never thought would be something I’d have to speak to him about.

“Is that all?” I nod, finally looking at him, his eyes always on me, never showing me any less attention, offering up his services in maybe a little less selfless of a way than I used to suspect. “Then I assume it’s time to assign your penance…” He runs his hand down over his lap, his other in the space of the little window, gripped over the little ledge there, crossing over into my space, the hand on his lap drawing back up slowly, his eyes a little cloudy, dazed, almost. “I have to say… The lord will forgive you, no matter the sin, miss, you’re saved.” It seems almost like a suggestion, though maybe I’m just imagining it, hoping for something I really and truly shouldn’t, something the opposite of righteous, one of the most evil and depraved wants possible. “Perhaps… Indulgence is our solution.” He stares at me, unmoving, giving me the choice, offering something so enticing, so terrible in nature I’d be damned to accept, looking at me in such a bold way after uttering something so forward.

“Father… Are you suggesting..?” He’s touching me, running rough fingers over the side of my jaw, our faces close, closer now that he’s leaning toward the little window, all of him seeming larger, more masculine than I would usually find him, his comfort fading into a simmering nervousness as I wait on his reply.

“I’ve satisfied myself in your name countless times, miss, and not once has it settled the need, not even diminished it, only choked it down until I can’t keep it at bay any longer. I am a man of God, but with all my devotion you’re the one and only thing I’ve ever found myself helpless to resist.” My breathing’s gone uneven, his hands on my face and in his lap, stroking softly, both soothing me and indulging in his desire, a soldier of God, succumbing to the same earthly pleasures as me. “Our penance. Finding a way to dispel this need, holding ourselves accountable for time spent lost in the other, returning that time to our father, pleading his forgiveness for our frailties.” He’s leaning close, face nearly passing the frame of the window, eyes cast down at my lips, his parted and slick, all of him so very enticing, especially like this, so far gone he can’t even deny himself this, and neither can I, my lips flush with his the next second, sealing my fate, an adulterer and a sinner, depraved and dirty and lustful, all for him.

The kiss is nothing like what I’ve come to expect, separate from the necessary, rushed kisses of my husband, this kiss searing, sending a wave of heat over me, the passion of it making me faint, all the want I’ve been keeping quiet to myself passing between us, his hand slipping back and into my hair, keeping me close, our indiscretion between only us and God, a sin kept quiet, the act horrible, but so satisfying I have no reason to believe God would be against me indulging.

“Father…” We’re both breathing heavy, lost in the admittance and act of sin, his hair messier than I’ve ever seen it, his lips rosy and shiny with shared saliva. “The others are waiting…” He sighs, drawing me back in by his grip on my hair, speaking in his quiet, comforting way half an inch from my lips.

“And they will.” He gives me no time to offer a response, goes back to pressing warm, careful kisses to my lips, his pace a little faster, his breathing shaky as mine, the booth heating up from labored breaths, muggy and heavy with shared desire. “Lord… You’re… Truly breathtaking… A temptress… My own personal test…” He pulls back, letting go of me, standing himself up, face hidden behind the wood above the window, his waist a little below my eye level, his robes hanging heavy, a reminder of his promise to the lord, now broken. “I’ve failed our father… But I will not fail you… Sink to the floor, miss, show me your devotion to your penance.” I meet his command, slipping off the bench and onto my knees, a little unsure, not quite understanding why I’d be on the floor if he intends to take me. “I’ll tend to you shortly, miss, just- for now… I need a bit of preparation.” He shuffles his robes out of the way, exposing himself to me, his manhood larger than I thought possible, more than twice the size of my husband’s, and I wonder how it’ll fit, if it can. “Take me inside your mouth, miss. Close your perfect lips around me and let me feel what I've long awaited.” He’s holding onto himself, waiting for me to comply while running his hand up and down, his body revealed to me for the first time, unexpectedly muscular, legs and some of his midsection bare for my greedy eyes.

I close my lips over him, only the first inch, unsure what he wants me to do, his hand leaving its place to stroke across my jaw, back into my hair, gripping what slips between his fingers, his hand pulling me in, sliding himself inside my mouth, a small pleasured sound passing his lips sending an odd sensation through me, some sickly hot satisfaction. He’s leaning his free arm on the wood above me, his head downturned, his eyes hidden from my view by the wood of the booth, his mouth gaping in pleasure, his chest heaving beneath his robes, cross around his neck swinging as he moves against me, a reminder of our frailty, our unworthiness of God’s image.

“Ah- You’re… This feeling is… Lord forgive me… For I will sin again…” His teeth are gritted, his hand pulling me in a little closer, my throat tightening around him startling me, his pleasured noise deep and pleasant when I press my hands to his thighs to get a breath, sputtering embarrassingly, his hand smoothing my hair helping me calm back down. “Forgive me… I got carried away…” He’s ducked down to look at me, seeming perturbed, stroking at my hair, his cross drawing my eyes before I look back up at him, slipping my fingers up the underside of his manhood, watching him, his pleasured noise sending a searing shock down to my privates, my mouth closing back around him, moving on my own, humming when he allows it, just keeps his hand on the back of my head, guiding me, his head rested back on his forearm, my eyes on the lower half of his face, the portion I can see, his expression looking pained from the pleasure, teeth ground tight, jaw clenched with stress, my hand running over his exposed stomach making him flinch, his length twitching between my lips. “Wicked girl… You’re-hah- ruining me… Turned me into a damned-!” He pulls me back, my lips leaving him with an obscene amount of saliva, smeared over him and connecting him back to my lips, his hand slipping forward to tilt my head up toward him, his eyes back in my view, looking down at me, his thumb stroking the mess on my lips. "I won’t let this end until I’ve shown you all that a lover can be, miss. Surely this isn’t what you’ve sought after… I can offer you more… you need only relax and let me show you…” He wraps his fingers over my bicep, pulling me gently up until I stand before him, his hand pushing me gently back to seated on the little bench, his fingers finding my upper legs through layers of skirts, running slowly up, giving me an awful sense of yearning, the feeling pleasurably painful, sickening, his cross swinging at eye level while he's doubled over reminding me I should be ashamed to be satisfied in any way from something so heinous.

“Father, what’re you-” He drags me, fingers tight on my legs, pulling me until my hips rest on the six inches of wood separating my space and his, my upper body laid on the bench, propped on my elbows, only a couple inches lower than the window.

“You’ve bewitched me, truly… Made me insatiable… My lust for you is painful, forcing me to succumb to your allure time and time again… Now you’ll see what you’ve done to me, feel the craving- the need I have for you, firsthand…” He sinks to his knees, keeping his eyes on my face, my elbows digging into the wood a little uncomfortable, but the look in his eyes keeps me from breaking my gaze from his, watching him as he pushes up on my skirts, leaving them pooled at my waist, my undergarments unobscured, his hand making its way back down to grip to my ankle, his skin scalding hot against me, lifting until my leg is in line with his lips, his head turned to the side to press his lips to my inner ankle, his gaze on me as he trails his way up, leaving saliva along his path up the inside of my leg, the whole display more pleasurable than probably anything I’ve ever experienced. “I know how to please you… I’ll be sure to satisfy your ungodly desires… Leave you so perfectly complacent you’ll never let anyone else bed you…” He finishes his kissing, pausing with his lips pressed to my lower thigh, easing my foot down on the bench just behind him, my knee bent, his hand moving to my other ankle, easing it up to repeat the process, drawing it out, kissing unbearably slow, looking at me in a lustful, entirely sinful way.

“Father? It’s… There are people outside… Shouldn’t we… Hurry this along?” He smiles, eyes creasing in such a beautiful way, his hand guiding my foot to rest on his other side, his head between them, shoulders just below my knees.

“Impatient woman… Confess it.” He lets his hands slide up the outsides of my legs, fingers pausing on the waist of my undergarments, his eyes peering at me, intense and masculine, commanding in his calm, even-toned way. I’m having trouble keeping my breathing even, the anticipation of his promise hanging heavy, blanketing the cramped space, the people milling about outside the booth making me wary to be caught.

“I have committed the sin of impatience. I don’t want to wait, forgive me.” He smiles, pulling down, exposing me to him, pulling my legs back one after the other to rid me of the pesky clothing, his eyes cast down once he’s finished, his expression clouded and lustful, his chest heaving, eyes a little low as he takes me in, bare before him, willing and ready to commit a cardinal sin for him.

“You’re forgiven… Now I must confess…” He leans forward, hands sliding up the back of my thighs before gripping to my skin, both of us clammed up from the suffocating heat of the space, his warm breath against me making me shiver. “I have committed the sin of envy… Stephan is the luckiest man in history… To have a woman as phenomenal as you… I’m truly envious, in utter disbelief he has not a clue how incredibly beautiful you look when you enjoy yourself…” He presses a finger against me, startling me, all of this foreign, his thumb trailing up wetness that usually comes much later, once Stephan is nearly done, his slippery finger pressing a couple inches above my entrance making me flinch, the feeling shocking, pleasant in a tight, unexpected fashion. “Ah… Perfection… I wasn’t sure… But that monk really did figure out the secrets of women…” I have no idea what he’s speaking about, all I know is this pleasure is foreign, tight and nearly too much, his thumb rubbing softly up and down as he watches me, seeming pleased to confirm I can feel in this way. “I was told a woman can achieve the same type of euphoria as men… I hope I’m well-equipped enough to give you at least one climax… I’ll try my best, miss, in God’s name.” I’m trembling, the feeling building into something far more than what it began, a sickening tension, my muscles wound tight, teeth gnashed and head leaned back onto the wall, his thumb pulling away releasing the tension building, his look amused.

“What’s… Why..?” He laughs, fanning hot air against me, his lips pressing to the place his thumb just left, his smile widening when I gasp and squirm, bag hands on my thighs holding me still as he uses his tongue, letting out a soft pleasured noise at the flavor, or the action, I’m not entirely sure.

“Forgive me… I couldn’t go without a taste… My god… You’re the most divine thing I’ve ever laid eyes on… the most raw and formidable temptation I’ve ever had the pleasure of letting ruin me…” He’s rubbing me again, pressure more firm than before, sure of himself, the satisfying tension coming back quicker than before, my eyes on him, the sight of him with my wetness smeared over his skin drawing a pleasured noise from deep in my chest, my breathing more frantic than I can ever remember, my legs trembling lightly from his ministrations, his gaze holding mine, his skin a rosy pink, lips flushed red. “You are my ultimate desire… An itch that has been gnawing, working away at me… Tearing me away from the lord… luring me into a pleasant trap…” I’m barely registering his low words, drawled with his cheek pressed to my skin, the tight pleasure clouding my mind, blanketing me in the feeling. “You’re nearly there… So beautiful… Keep your eyes on me… Face what you’ve done… Given into lust… Taken me down your depraved path as well… Don’t fret, your sins are forgiven… So get on with it, show me how blasphemous you are… deriving pleasure from being bedded, let this be for your pleasure and that alone… There, that’s it, you’re doing so well, trembling so beautifully, making those sweet sounds for me…” The feeling peaks, my body convulsing, drawing in on itself, the pleasure hot and tight, all of me clenched tight, his fingers pausing, my eyes barely open to heed his order, looking into his eyes, his expression pleased and lax. “I could never receive enough of this… Watching you come undone before me, my actions giving you this much pleasure…” I feel droopy when I come down, slumped on the bench, legs lax and open around his head, his expression entirely pleased, glad. “Let me inside.” He pulls me, and I let him, stood up in front of him after a few seconds, waiting on him to sink inside, my skirts and his robes making it seem nearly impossible, but he doesn’t make any move to bury himself inside, only meets my lips in a searing kiss, his body flush against mine, pressing me into the wall of the booth, my body feeling overly hot, both of us sweating, his face shiny with perspiration and my mess he’s neglected to wipe away.

“Father… Please… I’ve already confessed my impatience.” He laughs, low and sinful, the softened pleasure coming back, my body ready for him, likely more ready than ever before. He pulls up on my skirts, though they’re getting in the way, bunched up to my waist when he gives me a look, pressing my hand overtop my lower abdomen to hold them up, his hand gripping his manhood, pressing toward my entrance, rubbing lightly at that pleasurable spot, my low pleased noise muffled in the chest of his robe, his cross pressed cold to my overheating cheek.

“I wouldn’t like to hurt you… express any discomfort, miss, I’ll move slowly…” He pushes, pressing slowly inside, the feeling a little like the sting of antiseptic, his length and girth well over what I’m used to, but not painful, the wetness he caused allowing him to slip inside without incident, pressing tight inside, the full feeling filling some carnal, animalistic desire. “I’ll spill it outside… I won’t desecrate you too harshly…” He pulls back, pressing back inside equally slow, his hand sliding down to clasp around the inner side of my knee, drawing it up to parallel with my hip, his eyes on mine as he moves, slow, passionate and careful in a perfectly unexplainable way, the pleasing feeling of his eyes on mine prompting me to let my head lean back onto the wood, gazing up at him in a way that is surely embarrassingly wanton, but he doesn’t mind, just tucks his chin, gazing down at the place we’re connected, brows drawing together as a low rumble rips through his chest. “Is this… Are you in-hah- pain?” I shake my head, holding up my skirts a little higher, my other hand trapped between my chest and his stomach, gripped tight to his robes. “Confess… Bare your sins to the-ah lord-!” He speeds up his movement, the sound of skin hitting skin tearing pleased noises out of the both of us, his grip going a little tighter on my knee, his eyes holding mine captive, staring at me in an obscene fashion, pained and pleasured and anguished and adoring all at once.

“I-ah- I’m committing the-hah- the sin of-! Adultery-! I-hnn- I couldn’t resist the- the father… Please-ah- please forgive-! Me-!” Speaking isn’t all that easy, his manhood hitting the deepest parts of me, only a little painful, mostly pleasing, his thumb moving back to that spot making me keen, my face pressed to his chest until it passes, his movement gaining a steady, quick rhythm, his thumb moving in time with his hips, his breathing labored and shaky.

“Forgive us-Nnh- for we have sinned… Miss-ah-! I will now-hah- close the-Hnn-!” He ducks his head down, face pressed to the crook of my neck, his body shaking against me, mine against him, all of us ruined, torn apart from the need burning inside, a desire satiated only by action. “God the- the father of mercies-hah- Through-Nnh-! The death and resurrection of his son-ah- son-! As recon-hah-ciled by the-hnn- the uh-Nnh-!” He’s losing himself, and his teachings, mind too full of lust to recall his closing prayer, his hips pressing to mine in an almost animalistic fashion, rutting with the force of a needy dog, his head pulled back to look at me, his expression sinfully beautiful, all of him wet with sweat, red, his eyes low, held open by his need to see himself ruin me, make me into something just as terribly and fully depraved as him. “You really are-hah- the perfect temptation-nnh- In a world full of sinners we’re-ngh- only two of millions… If this costs me my spot in heaven so- so be it, this is my own-Nnh-! personal heaven, buried inside and gazing into your eyes-!…” He’s panting, and so am I, both of us near the inevitable high, shaking and releasing low noises into the space between us, our gazes locked, the eye contact offering a passion and sickening tension, spurring me closer, his thumb moving with harsh pressure, sending me near insanity, his quick thrusts driving me up the wall, his low words rushed and raspy, groaned out and whiny, nearly sounding pleading, his expression gone fearful, distraught at his own pleasure. “The world to- himself and sent the- the-nnh-!” He leans his head back, eyes closing and a loud groan ripping out of him, the sight drawing a decidedly needy noise out of me, my eyes trailing down to his cross, just in front of my face, bouncing agonist his chest, condemning me, my transgression seen and judged by God. “Damnit-! Sent to us- for the-ah- forgiveness ‘f sins-! Through the minis-ah- may god give-nnh-! May god give us pardon- yes-ah- and peace-nnh- I-ah-ab-oh- absolve-!” He slows down, both of us coming down from the near climax, his eyes coming back to me, forehead pressed to mine, his hips working in more of and arc like motion, the feeling of him dragging inside tearing an overly wanton sound from me, his eyes watching me as he draws this out, keeps us both teetering, giving himself a moment to finish his broken prayer. “I absolve you of your-ah- sins, and myself of- of mine…” He takes a few more seconds, pressing inside slowly, keeping his eyes on mine, bright blue shadowed by his hair, messy and sweaty, before he speeds back up, sinking inside over and over again at a pace that seems inhuman, his body impossibly tight to mine, the feeling of nearness coming back, my release denied now back to ruin me, leave evidence of my sin. “In the-ah- name of the- the father-! And of-hah- the-nnh- son and the-! The-ah- holy-hnn-! Spirit!” I’m squeezing him, my body almost uncontrollable when I clench and shake from pleasure, head tilted back and my eyes on his as he pulls out, leaving me empty, his seed spilled over the front of my thigh, trails dripping and soaking my skin, his release enticingly sensual to watch, a raw kind of experience, my mind hazy and full of him, watching him until he’s done, my leg returned to standing, his hands gently smoothing my skirt over both our messes. “Amen.”

“Amen.”

[romeulusroy]

Hard To Love (Roman Roy Oneshot)

Character/s: Roman

Word Count: 1,210

Inspired By: Puke by Ava Maybee I loveeeee this song

Tag: @locke-writes

A/N: This is definitely for therapy lol I hope no one minds. Ya gurl feels very unlovable atm. Idk. It stems from something someone said to me once, someone who is supposed to love me unconditionally, they said I am hard to love. Of course I forgive them, I love them, but it still stings y'know? Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

Is there something wrong with me? You don't know if you’ve spoken the words or only thought about them. Either way he rocks you both back and forth, arms around you, hushing your fears. Your cheek is pressed against his chest, his heartbeat rapid, playing a tune you can’t quite name. Is there? There must be. Some innate, genetic wrongdoing. Something must be missing from you to make you this way. Sensitive. Forgotten. An easy target. They shoot their arrows into you, through you, but you always come crawling back. Always. The pain, the blood loss, the look in their eyes, none of that matters. You don’t matter. They know they can do whatever they want and you’ll cling to them like a lost child. Because they’re your family. Because they’re supposed to love you unconditionally. But they don’t. And that is not a fault on their part, but your own. You have done something to make them hate you, you have done something to make them turn on you, it is all your fault. You’ve seen them love others the way you have wanted to be loved. You have seen them be so caring, so devoted, so in love with someone it breaks you into pieces. It threatens to undo your very soul. There is something about you that is so undeserving, so unlovable, so broken that they could never fathom treating you that way. They could never see you as something to care for, to give a second thought. 

Is it my fault? No, he fights back, no, no, never. But he’s wrong, biased, blinded. You’ve done a good job fooling him. Everything is. Right? Everything, everyone’s emotions, their well-being, it’s all on you. You take care of them. You heal their wounds. You dry their eyes. And in return, you get nothing. You are forgotten. His arms grow tight around you, together, stronger, as if he thinks holding you will keep your brokenness from showing. Pieces of you slide off his lap, shattering against the ground. You want to fight against him, against his word, but you’re too tired. Exhausted. Tears well up in your eyes, threatening to fall. It can’t be like this every time. You question why you come crawling back every time, hind legs wounded, but you do it. The moment they give you a second of attention, you forget everything that has ever happened. Every unkind word. Every look. Every comment. It sticks into your hair like gum. You are so hard to love. A direct quote. Spoken to you in a moment of fury, of anger. Does that make it any easier to swallow? Does it make it any better knowing it was spoken out of frustration? No. The anger bites back, chewing you to bits and pieces. It is the hard truth, the thing that needed to be said. He knows the sensation, that sinking feeling in the pit of your chest, the expectations you’ve been carrying for this single moment deflating, dying in your arms. 

Why am I so hard to love? You whimpered through the bathroom door. What, what are you talking about? He jiggled the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. You sat with your back against the door, not letting him in. You wanted to, no you needed to be alone. To cry this out. I can’t help you if you won’t let me in. You didn’t want his help though, you didn’t feel worthy of it. You deserved to be alone, to feel alone. You were a burden, a hindrance, something people didn’t want alone. You kept running through the list in your head, all the reasons, the myriad of explanations. If they picked one, just one, maybe you could change it. Fix it. Fix you. Make yourself into something deserving of love. You pressed your face into your crossed arms, feeling small. Insignificant. He slid down to your level, speaking quietly, tenderly. You know whatever they said or did, it’s not on you. No one who loves someone would hurt them like this. Like his father. Like your family. You just shrugged, knowing he can’t see. You weren’t sure why you listened to them, why you let it get under your skin, it just did. Too sensitive, they called it, as if it were a bad thing. As if it were another reason to disregard your tears, your feelings. You never should have gone home, but you missed it, the idea of home. This grand notion that things would be different, they would be different. You always do. Hopeful, he calls it. Fucking stupid, you correct. It's naive of you to think they’d ever change, ever soften, ever share the same heart as you do. As soon as you go back you remember why you left, why you built this little life with him in your home, why you came home crying every time. 

Maybe he should have warned you. He didn’t want to dampen the mood. Roman could see how excited you were, proud to show yourself and all your achievements, no matter how small. Naming every relative, how much you missed them, how long it’s been since you’ve seen them. Maybe he should have gone with you, protected you, becoming your human shield. It wouldn’t have mattered. You wouldn’t have let him get hurt like that. They were smart in their cruelty, knowing just the right insecurities, the right buttons to push to shatter who you are inside. He watched you try on countless outfits, worried they wouldn’t like what you chose, worried you wouldn’t make the best impression. It didn’t matter what you chose in the end, they had enough choice words about your body regardless. Y/n, will you let me in? He asked softly, not moving. You let the question hang in the air, sniffling, letting yourself relax, take deep breaths. He checked your bedroom, the couch, kitchen, every nook and cranny where you might try to hide. This always happens. The disappearing act, the lack of self-worth, the hatred turn in on yourself. It’s them you should be mad at, but you can’t be. You love them too much. You need them too much to think harshly of them. The handle turns, the door creaking open. He moves with open arms which you fall into.  He doesn’t have any jokes to make it better, anything to lighten the mood, he knows better than that. Now, you need comfort. You need soothing and reassurance. Your head against his chest, the rest of you heavy with grief. You go back every time because you want to be loved the way you’re supposed to, the way all the songs and shows and movies promise you: unconditionally. And every time you’re disappointed. Because your life, this life, isn't a movie. It doesn’t have a happy ending. It just keeps going despite the heartache, despite the pain. It threatens to collapse in on you, cave in, when it gets bad. There’s no such thing as unlovable, he says to you, to himself, to the universe. Discarded like a kicked puppy. He can handle it from his father, Gerri, everyone, but you? You don’t deserve that. There’s no such thing as unlovable, he’s sure of it.

[taggedmemes]

SENTENCE MEME ⟶ IDK HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME / RAZZMATAZZ always feel free to tweak the sentence to fit your muse.

"Big shot, so what?"

"You took the money but the money couldn't buy a friend."

"I want you to leave me alone."

"They say the devil that you know is better than the devil that you don't."

"You're a big shot here but nobody else knows."

"Go fly a kite until you're tangled in the hanging tree."

"Four in the morning but we've having such a lovely time."

"Mad as a hatter with a dagger and a dollar sign."

"Tip your hat and break your mother's heart."

"When the sun comes up you'll find a brand new god."

"You'll never gonna stop me."

"I'm never gonna quit."

"Lose yourself inside the city."

"Lose your mind inside the week."

"We can live while we're alive."

"Come inside, twist the knife."

"I'm a voluntary victim."

"Watch your colonial tongue."

"I'll watch you tighten the noose."

"Don't you lose all your control."

"You can't get into heaven if you haven't got a soul."

"They'll replace you with machines."

"Paralyzed by the sum of your parts."

"Abstract with a human heart."

"I'm captivated, but I'm so confused."

"Come and see the opening band."

"No one likes an opening band."

"Chances are they won't go far."

"Career is sure to end."

"Unfamiliar things will make us nervous."

"You've got the devil on your shoulder."

"You better shut your mouth just like I told ya."

"You've been controlling me through fiction."

"I got to break you like a bad addiction."

"I can't say no, I'm losing control."

"I'm having bad dreams."

"Nothing you can do will keep the bad things away from me."

"Despite your good intentions."

"I am just the new invention."

"Feels like you're running out of holy places."

"It's a miracle I'm standing."

"You're dragging me back."

"You're beautiful and evil too."

"You're sinister and vile."

"For you I'd die, or kill myself."

"I'd swing from the gallows and wave."

"I'd carousel into my grave."

"You're right down vicious."

"I can't help it, but I still wish I was with you."

"I'm a teenage beauty queen of sorts."

"I'm calculated, cold, without remorse."

"Only if you'd like me, I could fall in love with you."

"You're a holy quarantine."

"Could it be that it's only in my head."

"Give me something more for my wild imagination."

"Tell me that you're more than a sick fascination."

"You're with me all the time."

"I don't care about anything at all."

"I know that girls like you don't come with guarantees."

"You've got to spend your time, won't you spend it with me?"

"I hope we kiss goodnight."

"It might just end my life."

"I'll be a gentleman, or you can show me the door."

"I don't want to spend my life with anyone else."

"Pardon me if I forget your name."

"Is that any way to talk to me."

"Corrupting the young with your uncivil tongue."

"What a shame if you misspeak now."

"I need you here."

"There is no other place in the world I would rather be."

"Can't you stay right here forever, pretty please?"

"Where do you go when you're not home?"

"If I'm out of line, just show me the door."

"Don't hold your breath for goodness sake."

"You've got parliaments filled with parasites."

"Let's go paint the town on our way home."

"The blinking lights are breaking bones."

"Then you have that good old fashioned razzmatazz."

"You broke my heart again."

"Some things just cannot be fixed with sparkled tongues and politcs."

"In a fascist little paradox, we all become anonymous."

"I would say I'm sorry if I thought that it would change your mind."

"I know that this time I have said too much."

"I've been too unkind."

"I tried to laugh about it."

"I covered it all up with lies."

"I tried to laugh about it, hiding the tears in my eyes."

"Boys don't cry."

"I would break down at your feet and plead forgiveness, but I know it's too late."

"There's nothing I can do."

"I would tell you that I loved if I thought you would stay."

"I misjudged your limits."

"I pushed you too far."

"I took you for granted."

"I thought you needed me more."

"I would do most anything to get you back at my side."

[areyoudreaminof]

For the final day of @nestaarcheronweek, I've curated a playlist for our music loving girl. I wanted to showcase Nesta's complexities and her deep love for music with songs of strength, anger, loss, and love. Listen to it here! And come for a lyrical deep dive behind the cut!

Fresh Laundry-Allie X

You said you're always on my side But what if my side has changed too much? Then tell me, who am I? You said you're always on my side But what if my side has lived too long? Something has to die Who am I?

Fury Oh Fury-Nico Vega

Fury, oh fury don't you misguide me I need my wits to set me free Fury, oh fury don't you misguide me I need my wits to set me free

Little Dark Age-MGMT

Breathing in the dark, lying on its side The ruins of the dead painted with a scar And the more I straighten out, the less it wants to try The feelings start to rot one wink at a time Forgiving who you are for what you stand to gain Just know that if you hide, it doesn't go away

I Love You, But I Need Another Year-Liza Anne

I don't think enough Before I say too much I'm digging my own grave With all the shit I say I keep my head high Kinda like a lie I say I'm doing fine Even when I'm losing my mind

The Fruits-Paris Paloma

As you eat it up whole My body and my blood You've claimed it now, so come drink up And there's no need to be concerned About what's left when you are done because You've got me on my knees to pray Or play some other pleasing role But never wonder Where I must have learnt it all

Alpha Shallows-Laura Marling

But the grey in this city is too much to bear The grey in this city is too much to bear And I believe you are meant to be seen but not to be understood

It's going to be pretty tough when you leave You'll help to take a little part of me To make sure you don't treat yourself mean And I want to see all that you'll see

What's Wrong-PVRIS

I know it's so wrong but I'm so far gone Don't need you to tell me I'm so cynical Quit being so over-skeptical Don't need a metaphor for you to know I'm miserable

Peacemaker-Jesca Hoop

Put down your peacemaker blue Warrior Warrior Beaten and broken and bruised Warrior Warrior Come and I'll unlock your chain link armour Seven baths absolve your blood stained honor Your honor Tell the water of

Human-Oh Land

I don't love you human You remind me of the things I hate in me I don't love you human Cause You show me how imperfect I can be Human You're so lonely lonely lonely

Smokestacks-LAYLA

You got eyes so azure You got blood orange skin And there's a spark in your centre that's piercing me in I got a night-time shudder and a lion within I got a brain-tricked hunger and you're pulling me in

Willow Tree March-The Paper Kites

You fall through the trees And you pray with your knees on the ground For the things that you need With your lust and your greed weighing down And you weaken your love And you hold it above your head Success is a song of the heart, not a song of your head

Mountain at My Gates-Foals

I see a mountain in my way It's looming larger by the day I see a darkness in my fate I'll drive my car without the brakes

Oh, gimme some time Show me the foothold from which I can climb Yeah, when I feel low You show me a signpost for where I should go

Rabbit Will Run-Iron and Wine

We've all traded lovers and woke up alone And we've clapped for the king though our fingers were cold And I still have a prayer 'cause I love what I cannot control

Water Water-Empress Of

You're just a heart to hold, you're easy to impress I want to care much more, but I'm feeling less awake You're just a heart to break, easy to manipulate I want to care much more, but I'm feeling less and less

Hold On, Hold On-Neko Case

The most tender place in my heart is for strangers I know it's unkind, but my own blood is much too dangerous Hangin' round the ceiling half the time

Shake it Out-Florence + the Machine

And I am done with my graceless heart So tonight I'm gonna cut it out and then restart 'Cause I like to keep my issues drawn It's always darkest before the dawn

[bethanydelleman]

Northanger Abbey Readthrough Ch 28

His departure gave Catherine the first experimental conviction that a loss may be sometimes a gain.

Ding dong the witch is dead in London and all the children rejoice! Everything would be perfect if Catherine wasn't worried about overstaying her welcome. Such a relatable moment, even if I don't have the leisure of staying at a friend's house for a month. "So... were you planning on having me for dinner or should I skedaddle?"

Catherine burst in on Eleanor mid sentence to ask if she needs to head home, oh Catherine! Gotta love that Catherine is totally find with staying another month, to be a trust fund baby...

She did—almost always—believe that Henry loved her, and quite always that his father and sister loved and even wished her to belong to them; and believing so far, her doubts and anxieties were merely sportive irritations.

❤️❤️❤️ So cute!

I feel so much for Eleanor when she has to tell Catherine to get lost. She walks upstairs, puts her hand on the doorknob, but isn't able to open it or knock, she just stands there. Which reminds me of Fanny Price:

Too soon did she find herself at the drawing-room door; and after pausing a moment for what she knew would not come, for a courage which the outside of no door had ever supplied to her, she turned the lock in desperation

Catherine opens the door and seeing Eleanor pale, begins to comfort her, not knowing what is to come. And then when she does hear the news, she is VERY nice about it. She keeps telling Eleanor she's not offended and offers a bunch of ideas of what they can do, before the General's unkindness is fully known.

Eleanor describing her father: His temper is not happy, and something has now occurred to ruffle it in an uncommon degree. He is a treasure...

This in particular is very generous of Catherine:

It was with pain that Catherine could speak at all; and it was only for Eleanor’s sake that she attempted it. “I am sure,” said she, “I am very sorry if I have offended him. It was the last thing I would willingly have done. But do not be unhappy, Eleanor. An engagement, you know, must be kept. I am only sorry it was not recollected sooner, that I might have written home. But it is of very little consequence.”

This line is cute: Eleanor with more goodwill than experience intent upon filling the trunk

However, Catherine is somewhat offended by her manner of being sent away and she does at first refuse to continue her friendship with Eleanor:

No, Eleanor, if you are not allowed to receive a letter from me, I am sure I had better not write. There can be no doubt of my getting home safe.” Eleanor only replied, “I cannot wonder at your feelings. I will not importune you. I will trust to your own kindness of heart when I am at a distance from you.” But this, with the look of sorrow accompanying it, was enough to melt Catherine’s pride in a moment, and she instantly said, “Oh, Eleanor, I will write to you indeed.”

It lasts for like five seconds, but I think it does really show Catherine's growth. She was always too ready to forgive and gloss over Isabella's faults.

Her last thought before leaving is of Henry, poor girl!

As a last note, Eleanor Tilney is far more of a Gothic heroine than Catherine, we leave her alone in the Abbey, a tyrannical father to pacify and her brother away from home. All this time, she has been in love with the Mysterious Lord Laundrylist (Not a lord yet, but still). I love how Jane Austen includes very Gothic characters in her novels, but always in the background. Jane Fairfax is another example.