#I’m having a shitty night and they’re my therapy

[imogenkol]

SHIP: If I Had A Heart — Imogen Kol x Bix Caleen (star wars)

[template]

[gothicflowers]

Can you write Ghost only use reader for her body and she shows that but in love too deep with him. She always begs him to take their relationship seriously but Ghost always replies like "I know you love me, that's why I use you, lovie." That's so cruel but I love that, maybe I need a therapy right now!!!

(MDNI) +18

Ghost x F!Reader

“Just sex” he grumbled as he towers over you.

“Fine” you say with a smirk. Arrogantly thinking you could make him fall for you.

Unfortunately after every roll in the sheets it ended the same way. You offer him food, stay to watch a movie, rub his tired shoulders, but he always leaves right after.

Time after time you tell yourself he’s just putting up a front, and deep down he’s a soft gentle man like you think he is. Wrong again. He’s just a tall, arrogant, selfish jerk who only cares about his job.

Which lead to this conversation between you two in his room.

“You know what, I don’t get it” you fumble with your belt as you frustratedly put it back on. Ghost texted you asking if you wanted to stop by but right before you two were about to lay on the bed you asked him if he felt anything for you. Anything at all. To which he promptly said “talk about it later” which was his way of saying drop it. But of course you persisted as asked if he wanted to get dinner later. And it slowly spiraled into a half clothed argument.

“What” he asks with a slight annoyance in his tone “let me guess… you really did fall for me”.

“Yeah. And for some fucking awful reason I agree to this shitty sex deal thinking it would change things but fuck… you’re just shitty”you slip on your shoes and sigh “You know most people have the common courtesy to at least ask if they need some water or help clean them up”.

His props himself up by his elbows and sighs “we agreed, It’s just sex”.

“Oh fuck off. You knew what you were doing. And even if it’s just sex have some basic human decency. And you’re the one who approached me mother fucker don’t forget that, you desperate horn dog” you sneer at him.

Ghost laughs “Oh don’t call me the horn dog when you were practically chasing me around wanting some”.

“Fuck you, then why on earth did you decide to sleep with me if you knew I’d get attached” your hands rest on your hips as you await his answer.

“Simple, the other two women here have some arrangement with Gaz and Soap. I’m not particularly fond of sharing. And they’re really not my type, and you’re the prettier one of the three”.

You could feel your blood start to boil. A this time you had been trying to convince yourself he was everything you wanted… and he was just using you.

“So all that time I thought you just wanted to get to know me you were just trying to get into my pants” your expression turned ice cold.

“Was rather easy darling” he smirks.

“You’re telling me” you laughed trying to compose yourself “that I thought I was falling for you and put up with some mid grade dick because I was the prettiest”.

Ghost was slightly taken aback when you said mid grade dick. “The fuck does that mean” he asks.

You slowly reach for his door handle “Oh come on ghost… did you really think I was actually cumming from two ish minutes of missionary sex with no forplay”.

His sits up with confusion plaster on his face “you’re lying” he scoffs.

“I mean like you said it’s just sex. You never said you’d make me cum, and this little arrangement where one of us leaves works out pretty well so I can have some quality time with my vibrator” your open the door and walk out grinning. But once you reached your room every ounce of emotion released itself.

You gave yourself one night. One night to mourn the idea of what you wanted with him. One night to be upset over his attitude and behavior. One night to cry and let your heart break.

Ghost sits speechless on the bed. There was no way you would lie about faking an orgasm… right? He picked you because you’re pretty and gullible, but now he feels like the fool.

Ghost slides back into his boxers and slowly paces his room. “She’s a little lying minx” he grumbles to himself. But as much as he tries to reassure himself his mind goes back to every encounter.

He realizes he never did ask you if it was good for you. Did you actually cum? Granted he had to use lube a few times but that’s normal, right? Well maybe he did just kinda rush into the sex, never giving you any proper warm up. Was he actually giving mid grade dick? Impossible. But then again he cant remember you saying once that you did come, nor did he ever remember you cumming. He’d surely remember the expression on your face if he ever did see you cum, Was the one and only Simon Ghost Riley really dishing out mediocre dick?

It’s been about a month since that night. Yours and Ghosts work relationship remains unchanged. Professional. But of course now that Soap and Gaz noticed a change in Ghosts behavior towards hookups, they have been dying to ask you what happened.

“Because you’re the prettiest” Gaz repeated your words.

“That’s so fucked up that he’d prey on you like that” Soap said with a disgusted expression.

You simply shrug “I know, but I think I might have given him a taste of his own medicine”.

“How” Soap asks taking note of your smirk.

You lean back in your seat trying to gather the right words “Well you see… he’s not exactly gifted in the skills department”.

“Oh please do elaborate” Gaz scoots in closer. He’s oh so deeply invested now.

“He’s as vanilla as a cake, can’t find the clit even with assistance, and let’s be honest… a minute and a half isn’t getting most women anywhere when you just shove it in” you look between the two men and a greeted by the look of horror.

Soap was the first to speak “A minute and a half”.

“When you say just shove it in you mean he wouldn’t ya know…” Gaz tries to say politely unlike Soap who is now mumbling in Gaelic.

“As in quite literally just dropping pants and hitting it in missionary. No warm up”. You can’t help but speak bluntly.

“Fuck that sounds bloody awful” Soap chimes back in.

“It was, but I thought I actually liked him and it was just something I figured I could deal with. thank goodness that’s over though”. You laugh at your own words because it’s the truth. A horrible honest truth.

Granted the actual damage Ghost caused to your confidence and self esteem is greater than you’re willing to admit. Knowing you were used just for your body and beauty was the most gut wrenching experience.

But at least Ghost looks miserable. The man hasn’t tried to hook up with anyone that you’ve noticed. His cocky arrogant attitude has been turned down. Life finally gave him some of the most humbling lesson.

1. Don’t manipulate people for your benefit when they truly care about you.

2. Don’t be a selfish lover.

3. There are videos on how to actually find the clit,

[myseungsunglove]

When darkness comes, you’re always there | Ksm

Pairing: Seungmin x Reader

Warnings: angsty feelings with fluffy comfort

Word Count: 1.9k

Summary: It's been one of those days where your demons win every argument. Beat you down and remind you how worthless you are. There’s only one person who offers any solace when you get this lost and that's Kim Seungmin.

A/N: I had a really rough day on the day I wrote this. Like colossally shitty. I spent the better half of it crying alone in bed wishing I had something like this. So, as my own form of therapy, I wrote.

◠ ◡ ◠᭚ιαᵕ̈

Feedback Welcome

「© August 1, 2023 by myseungsungheart」

Some days you lose yourself and can’t remember how to get back to the light. The darkness consumes you, swallows you whole, and you’re certain you’ll be lost forever.

Today is one of those days. Seungmin has been home late every night this week, and today your brain decided it was the perfect time to wage war on you. It’s a full on assault and you find yourself defenseless and spiraling before you even know what hit you. Every horrible and self deprecating thought you’ve ever had seems to be joining the party. You’re sure you must be a nuisance to everyone around you. The boys, even Seungmin. You convince yourself that that’s why he has been coming home at three in the morning, so he doesn’t have to deal with you. Your polluted mind is certain this must be the truth and the reality that Seungmin is busy preparing numerous events for STAY can’t break through the dark lies that your brain is weaving so intricately.

You haven’t crawled out of the bed, drank water, or eaten a thing today. It’s nearing 10 pm at this point. The rational side of you knows the lack of food and water only compounds the problem and the intense feelings you’re experiencing, but rational you is not in charge today. You curl up into yourself, blankets wrapped tightly around your shoulders and up over your head, seeking solace in puppy m and sob. You’ve sobbed for hours without relenting at this point, and you wonder briefly just how much more liquid could come out of a person who is as dehydrated as you currently must be.

At some point you fall asleep, exhausted from the emotional turmoil of the day.

Something wakes you around 1, but you don’t really register it in your sleepy haze. You're hit with an enormous headache from the lack of any kind of nutrients for the better part of 24 hours and you realize that you’re still alone in bed. No Seungmin. The tears are flowing once more and you’re sure you’ve turned into a never ending water fountain at this point.

Your sobs are pathetic, racking your entire exhausted body. They aren’t loud, but they are mournful. You hadn’t fallen into a hole like this in a while. Seungmin kept you grounded in reality, but he’d been gone so much lately you had nothing to grab onto.

You feel the bed dip, the blanket lifting from your back as a body slides in behind you, arms sliding around your waist. Seungmin. He pulls you back firmly against his chest, his knees slotted in behind yours, his face burying in your neck.

“Shhh baby, I’m here,” he whispers. The pain and worry in his voice are evident. “How long have you been like this?” he asks, brushing your hair to the side and kissing you softly behind the ear. When you don’t respond, only sob harder, he squeezes you tight. “Did something happen?” he questions.

“No,” you choke out. “I’m just worthless is all,” you manage between sobs. “So annoying you don’t even want to come home,” you cry, curling more into yourself.

“What? Why would you ever think that?” Seungmin asks, genuine hurt in his voice.

You roll over then, and his hand moves to your chin, lifting your eyes to his.

“Baby, you know I’m direct. If I ever felt those things, the words would come out of my mouth. And they haven’t. Ever. Not once. Because they’re not true,” he pleads, his eyes darting back and forth between yours. “I know I’ve been working so late because of all the preparations for STAY, and I've managed to miss the signs that the most important person in my life is spiraling,” he says, clearly beating himself up. “I’m so sorry,” he chokes out, his lips pressing gently against yours as if he’s afraid he might break you with his touch.

The kiss sends a warmth through you that you haven’t felt all week, your arms moving to embrace him, snaking around his waist and onto his back to press him as close to you as possible. You want to melt into him because that feels like a safer place than your own toxic brain and body at the moment. He pulls away after several minutes of being glued to you, realizing how dry your lips are. He takes in your appearance, seeing the sheen of clammy sweat on your skin and pale color.

“Y/n, have you eaten or drank anything today?” he asks, his worry renewing as he looks into your eyes.

All you can manage is a broken sob and a small shake of your head as you hide from him and burrow into his chest.

“Shit, baby,” he curses, kissing your temple. He unwraps himself from you. When you whimper at the loss of his warmth he reassures you. “I’ll be right back, I promise,” he says, placing a chaste kiss on your lips and turning to leave the room.

He’s back quicker than you can fully register his absence, a water bottle filled with filtered water in hand. He puts out his hand, asking for yours, and you reluctantly take it and allow him to pull you into a sitting position. He sits beside you, handing you the bottle, his hand resting on your thigh, rubbing up and down soothingly.

“Drink,” he commands, leaving no room for discussion. You tentatively suck on the straw, the cool liquid hitting your throat and you groan a little at the relief it provides. Suddenly you realize the desert your body has become, and you're guzzling the water down. “Don’t make yourself sick,” he warns, noticing your reaction.

You slow down and pull away from the water bottle reluctantly, a small sigh emitting from you as you pull oxygen into your tired lungs.

“God I’m hungry,” you realize, your stomach now growling after the water intake. Your head is pounding from the abuse you’d put it through over the last 24 hours. You hated these spirals and what they did to you. You hated more that it made you feel like you had no control over anything.

“I’d imagine so. When’s the last time you ate jagiya?” Seungmin asks, no accusation in his voice, just concern.

“I honestly don’t remember,” you admit. “With you maybe,” you rack your brain. Yes, you had eaten breakfast with Seungmin yesterday morning. It had been at least 40 hours since you ate, you suddenly realized which immediately made the headache make sense.

“Goddamit,” Seungmin cursed, grabbing his phone from the night stand. “I can’t believe I let this happen. Fucking…” he trailed off as he typed furiously in his phone. You could see him beating himself up for the decisions you had made over the last two days.

“Seung, you didn’t let anything happen. I’m a grown woman. I should be able to take care of myself,” you said, your fingers on his chin pulling his gaze up to yours and momentarily away from his phone.

“I know that, but I needed to be here for you, and I wasn’t,” he growls, finishing whatever he was doing on his phone. “But that ends now. I just told Chan I needed a few days off. I need to be with you right now,” he says, his voice softening again.

“You don’t have to…” you stammered.

“I want to,” he says firmly, his hand reaching for yours and squeezing it. “Foods on its way too,” he adds, standing up, and pulling you along with him. “Let’s get you a shower before it gets here,” he encourages and you groan because you’re exhausted from the day’s emotions and also disgusting. “I’ll help,” he assures you, guiding you to the bathroom.

Seungmin is a perfect gentleman as he steps into the shower with you, taking care to wash your hair and body, no other agenda in mind tonight than to make sure you’re okay.

When he is finished and you’re rinsed and clean once more, he steps out of the shower, draping a towel around his hips, and grabbing yours. You take it from him and wrap it around you, tucking it under your arms. He leans in then and kisses you softly, his lips moving reverently against yours. His phone dings on the counter, signaling the arrival of your food.

“Ah, dinner. Finally,” he smiles down at his phone. “Get comfy and I’ll grab the food off the stoop,” he says as you walk out of the bathroom together. You throw on one of Seungmin’s t-shirts and a pair of his boxers and shuffle down the hall into the living room. Seungmin is setting out a shit ton of food when you pad in, looking up at you with a beaming smile on his face, and you momentarily wonder who delivers this late in the night.

“Babe, I’ll never eat all that,” you can’t help but laugh.

“I haven’t eaten since, hell, I can’t remember. I’m starving,” he chuckles.

You realize then just how busy he’s been if he hasn’t stuck to his pretty rigid schedule he keeps for himself and reality hits you as you allow yourself to understand it fully. The thoughts that consumed you earlier in the day and night are slowly losing their grip on you. You let out a sigh of relief.

“Go put on some clothes, Seung,” you say, bumping your hip against his and shooing him down the hall. “I’ll get us plates and chopsticks and something to drink,” you assure him, and he scurries down the hall, towel hanging from his hips and droplets of water still clinging to his broad back as his feet shuffle along the hardwood quickly. He’s gone no time at all, before he returns in a pair of black basketball shorts and a white t-shirt. Your tip toeing to get the plates and bowls down, and you feel him press against your back and reach up for them. He kisses your neck and moves to head back toward the living room.

“Let’s eat,” he says, smacking your ass gently and you playfully slap his hand away, your mood already much improved from Seungmin’s presence, the water, and the shower. It’s amazing how the simple act of taking care of your basic needs can shift your mentality. You grab a couple drinks from the fridge, chopsticks and a couple spoons from the drawer.

You both retreat into the living room, sitting on the floor by the table by the couch. Seungmin plates your food for you, knowing all the things you like and hands it to you before loading up his own. He smiles happily at you as he digs in.

“Now, I’m all yours for the next three days baby,” he smiles before taking a bite. “Let’s sort that pretty little head of yours out, and I promise I won’t miss something like this again,” he vows, chastising himself.

“Seung,” you start, but he shakes his head.

“Let me do this, okay y/n?” he practically pleads. He needs to take care of you. It’s like it’s coded into his dna or something.

“Of course, jagiya,” you smile, leaning across the table and kissing him quickly.

You're so thankful you have Kim Seungmin in your life. He’s grounded you back to reality many times before and you’ve done the same for him in his times of doubt. You weren’t sure how you got so damn lucky, but you’d thank whatever god you needed to over and over again to keep your Seungmin.

Tags: @krishastumblernow @ohish

[cakerybakery]

Extra scene from The Stork. Doesn’t really play a role in the story, just an extra scene

-

Lucifer slammed the door, fuming and muttering under his breath. Looking up from his copy of Guitar Sluts, which for once he was actually reading for the articles and not for pictures of the naked hell-born women slobbering over some sexy as hell guitars, Adam chastised him, “don’t slam doors, Lucifer. You’ll wake River.”

“Sorry.” He grumbled as he hung up his hat and jacket, and dropping his cane into the umbrella stand. “That asshole just gets to me.”

Adam didn’t have to asked who. It was always the same asshole. Alastor.

“Ignore him then.” He was trying to read, but this was going to be a whole thing wasn’t it?

Lucifer rolled his eyes and sat down on the couch to pry his boots off. “Oh that worked fucking great with you.”

“It didn’t work because I was obsessed with getting your attention since I didn’t realize I was attracted to you.”

Adam didn’t realize Lucifer could actually turn paler than he already was.

“You don’t think Alastor wants to have sex do you?”

He didn’t mean to laugh but the idea was ridiculous, “nah babe. When it comes to sex I think Al’s the type to miss the game on purpose, you know?”

Lucifer visibly relaxed.

“But,” Adam continued, “I do think he might be desperate for human interaction, friendship, and respect.”

Knitting his brows in confusion, Lucifer asked him drying, “what?”

“Been talking to Char, since I don’t get to many of the therapy exercises cause of River. And seeing Al through her eyes is interesting.” He marked his page and put the magazine down. “Okay. So some Mimzy chick showed up right?”

It took a couple ticks but slowly Lucifer nodded, “oh yeah. Kind of annoying. Interrupted a song.”

“Right. Well, Charlie said she basically just showed up cause she pissed some guys off and was trying to act all buddy buddy with Al for protection. And Al sent her packing afterwards right. And she was like his oldest friend. So how would you feel if someone you thought you were genuinely friends with turned out to just be using you?”

“Uhhh, shitty?”

“Right. And he doesn’t seem to have anyone else around that he’d call a friend. Except maybe cyclops. She told me he was talking about nostalgia or something like it before that battle. All, ‘they’re an enjoyable group to be around’, or some shit.” Adam waited to see if Lucifer was figuring it out or if he needed some extra help.

Lucifer just looked at him blankly, “okay, so he’s a dick to me, why?”

“Don’t know exactly. But maybe he wants someone to respect him, like, as a person. It’s not like you need him to protect you. Or maybe he’s threatened by your power. Cause he’s no longer the big bad around here. Either way, try acting like a friend. Or at least act like the bigger person and walk away. Treat him like a person.”

“Uuuuggghhhh! I don’t want to!” Lucifer whined. He flopped back onto the couch and let himself sink into it. “What happened to the guy that used to needle me endlessly?”

“Got pinned to the ground and forced to examine why he needled you endlessly before you’d let him up.” Adam replied smugly at the consequences of Lucifer’s own actions coming back to bite him.

“Fine! I’ll try.”

“Cool. You know, if you do, maybe later, the consequences of your own actions, making me realize I was hot for you, will come back to give you a blowjob if you played nice with Char’s friends.” It would have to be much later though. Adam could hear River starting to wake up, so they’d be on daddy duty until later that night. But Adam considered it motivation for Lucifer to try and be chill about Alastor.

“… that’s way better than the pumpkin stickers Charlie would give me whenever I successfully walked away when you used to try and goad me into a fight.”

“Wait, she gave you stickers?? I want stickers! I had an emotional breakthrough and all I got was a sore ass like five months later cause you chickened out cause you were all like, “I’m still married! I can’t cheat on my wife again because I once I cannibalized her after starving for months”. Fucking two tiered system in this place.”

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

Fic: Gratitude

Read on Ao3

My Frankie Morales masterlist

Fandom: Triple Frontier

Ship: Francisco “Catfish” Morales x Reader/you (cishet woman)

Warnings: Mention of shitty exes with 1950's views on women, foreplay, fellatio, dick riding which is a form of transportation but only if you need to get to cloud n:o 9, unprotected PiV sex but it's fine (this is fic so you might not be unless you wrap that shit up), some sweet dirty talk but nothing bad, creampie.

Summary: You thank Frankie for doing his part of the cleaning before Christmas. And, you know, for being awesome in general.

Words: 2,670

The drone of the vacuum cleaner greets you when you step in through the front door, and once you’ve kicked off your shoes and hung your coat, you trail its cord to the living-room, where Frankie’s moved the coach to reach the nozzle behind it. He’s not playing music, like the two of you often do when you’re cleaning the apartment, and his jaw is set pretty tight, but when you enter and he looks up, a smile slowly spreads on his face. He hits the off button with his foot and draws his hand through his hair, wiping back the stray locks from his forehead.

”Hi, baby.”

”Hi.” You walk up to him and give him a kiss. ”You started without me?”

You’re not hosting this Christmas, but the holidays are a good excuse to clean properly. Luckily, both you and Frankie are pretty tidy and share standards for household cleanliness, but the problem right now is time. Both of you are working long hours and between that and the December darkness, it’s hard to find the energy and motivation to clean. You’ve decided to do a little each night during the week that leads up to Christmas; that way, you can do a little each day and still have a clean and fresh home on Christmas Eve.

”Figured I might as well,” Frankie shrugs.

You immediately see that there’s more to it. Frankie’s fine most of the time but there are still horrors lingering in the deep recesses of his mind. They don’t surface as often but when they do, they’re hard on him. He has his coping mechanisms, thanks to therapy and you. Busying himself with concrete tasks is one way of keeping the demons at bay. Cleaning is therapy.

”You want to talk about it?” you ask him quietly, hand resting softly on his broad shoulder. Frankie blinks, seemingly surprised, then casts his long-lashed eyes down in chagrin.

”Should’ve known you’d see right through me.”

”I always do.”

”Hmm.”

”Frankie?”

He pulls you in for a hug, resting his chin on the top of your head. ”I’m good. It’s not that bad. Cleaning helps.”

”Okay, baby.” You kiss the hollow between two long, lean muscles in the front of his neck, and gently disentangle yourself from his embrace.

”You want me to get started on dinner?” you ask, raising your hand to draw our fingers through his thick hair. The way he visibly relaxes at your touch makes your heart swell.

”That would be lovely. Thank you.”

”Thank you for cleaning.”

You lean in to kiss him, placing several little pecks on his smiling lips. You really are infinitely grateful for Frankie and how natural it is to him to keep his home tidy. Your experience in that department hasn’t been good. Cleaning always caused arguments with every single one of your exes. One of them, who grew up in a home where his mother did absolutely everything, even cleaned her grown-up sons’ apartments when they were single, seriously thought women had a special gene for cleaning. You’ll never know what you saw in him but the experience made you ask Frankie on your very first date if he knew how to clean a home from top to bottom. He thought it was an euphemism for something dirty, and blushed like a schoolgirl. When the misunderstanding had been cleared up, he frowned and said yes, doesn’t everybody?

He was a keeper from that day on.

”You know,” you now add, ”boyfriends who do the cleaning get special treats.”

”Is that so?” Frankie rumbles low against your lips. Good god, his voice does things to you.

”That is definitely so,” you confirm conquettishly. ”I’m gonna treat you so good tonight, Francisco.”

”Mmm... looking forward to that.” Frankie looks a lot happier when he goes back to vacuuming, smiling broadly from the slap on his ass that you give him when he turns on the loud machine again.

Later, after the living-room has been cleaned, dinner eaten, and dishes washed, you take Frankie to bed. You give him a neck and shoulder rub, not that you’re very good at it, but he loves your hands on you.

”We go so much of the cleaning done today,” you tell him softly when you’re seated behind him in your underwear, carefully working a tense spot where his shoulder and neck meet. Frankie hisses low, tensing up for a second but relaxing just as quickly when you kiss his shoulder blade.

”One thing checked off the list,” he agrees, and you hear the satisfaction in his voice.

”You know, if you’re too tired for it, I don’t mind skipping the big clean before Christmas,” you suggest, fingers finding another knot in his shoulder. Working it carefully with one hand, you let your other hand run up the length of his neck and get lost in his soft curls. Frankie exhales in a happy sigh.

”I like having a clean home for the holidays,” he reminds you. ”And you know it helps me deal with... shit.”

”I know,” you assure him, pressing a kiss to the back of his head. ”Just sayin’.”

He hums low when you start to knead both his shoulders while trailing your lips up the side of his neck. The massage turns into caresses as you press yourself to him from behind and wrap your arms around him, Frankie turning his head so that he can reach you for a kiss. Soft and loving at first, it quickly ignites and spreads sparks through both of you. Your lips grow insistent and Frankie starts to contort until he’s facing you on the bed. He lays you down, lips staying on yours until you’re flat on your back, then he starts to trail kisses down your jawline to your neck.

”Frankie,” you remind him with a purr, ”I’m supposed to be doing this to you.”

”I’m not stopping you,” he murmurs, still spreading kisses over your skin while his hand travels down your body, softly squeezing a bra cup before tugging it down and freeing up one tit. His lips follow and he greedily licks at your budding nipple as his hand travels south and eventually slips underneath the waistband of your panties. You let him make you wet, enjoy the teasing brushes of his fingers over your slit, the kisses that follow his hand down your stomach. When he starts to pull down your panties and his mouth gets close to the growing desire between your legs, you stop him, clamping your thighs together. Frankie kisses your belly button and smirks.

”But this is the best part...”

”Believe me, I know,” you smile back, pulling him up for a kiss, ”but we’re not about that tonight.”

”We’re not?”

”Nope.”

”Then what are we about?” he wiggles his eyebrows, making you laugh.

”We’re all about you, Francisco Morales.”

You gently nudge him to roll over onto his back, then straddle his thighs and bend down to do to him what he just did to you: kiss his long, strong neck, lick and bite his nipples until they are pebbles against your lips. Your hand has found his erection already and is gently teasing it, like he was teasing you moments earlier. You kiss your way down his stomach, taking care to love every inch of the soft flesh that you know bothers him sometimes, look up at him to let him know that you love all of him, every bit that he doesn’t. Reaching the waistband of his shorts, you caress his hips and let your hands travel around to grab his ass, making him giggle unexpectedly.

”That tickles.”

You ghost your fingers over his hipbone again. ”This?”

Frankie twitches. ”Yeah, don’t do that, unless you want a laugh fest instead of sex.”

”Don’t they say that unless you can laugh together in bed, you shouldn’t even be having sex?” you tease him, tracing one single feather-light finger over his hip. You feel his muscles flex, but he doesn’t jump.

”They say a lot of things.”

You come up to kiss him. His arms go around you at once, pulling you right into the warm length of his body, his tenting boxers a stiff promise against your thigh.

”I love you,” you tell him between kisses. ”You’re perfect.”

”You are.”

”I know.” You pull away and resettle between his legs, bending down to nuzzle his hard length through the boxers. Frankie sighs in exasperation but you take your time before you relieve him of his underwear. Ducking down, you kiss and lick first one thick thigh, then the other, his hard cock twitching as it gets lost in the tickle of your hair.

”Babe...” he moans, reaching down to stroke himself. You swat his hand away lovingly.

”I know, you just have to be patient.”

”You’re killing me.”

”Not yet,” you wink at him, getting a strangled laugh in return as you finally close your fingers around his girth and swirl your thumb over the wet tip. You don’t tease him anymore but start to lick the salty head of his cock with great care, as if you were a cat mommy cleaning her babies.

”God, baby...” Frankie whines, stroking your hair and reaching for your hand. You take it and knit your fingers together, smiling up at him as you take him in your mouth. It’s always a bit of a struggle: he’s wide and hard and veiny, but you’ve had a lot of practice and can handle it now, even if you can’t take all of him like this. You work your hand on the thick base of his cock and your mouth on the top, meeting in the middle as you drool on him and get him all wet.

Frankie’s let go of your hand now and is burying both hands in his hair, eyes pressed close as he moans nonsense, blown away by your tender loving care. You take your time and go slow, in no hurry to get him off. This isn’t for that, it’s just foreplay.

When he moans your name, and his hips twitch, you release his cock with a wet pop and wipe your mouth. You know his cues, his tells, and it’s time to stop so he doesn’t blow. You come up to give him a wet, loving kiss.

”Good?”

”Madre de Dios...”

”So, good,” you grin before rolling down next to him and taking off your panties. Straddling Frankie again, you fix his eyes with yours as you reach behind you to unclasp your bra, releasing your tits to freedom as you whisk the garment to the side.

”Hmm,” Frankie hums, ”it never gets old. Love seeing the girls like this.”

”So predictable,” you shake your head, but you’re pleased with his adoration as he sits up enough to bury his face between said girls. He motorboats them playfully before focusing on one, kissing and licking the soft flesh in search of the nipple. When finding it, he devours it immediately and starts to suck forcefully. Your head falls back as you moan loudly, a direct line of pleasure flooding from your chest down to your pussy, making it throb even harder.

”Frankie...” you whine, pulling back a little but surrendering to his growled protest. You lean into his mouth and hands, finding him between your thighs and almos lazily guiding him into you, one inch at a time. When he’s fully sheathed in you, Frankie releases your tits and instead holds you close, breathing in short stutters as he rests his forehead to yours. You shift a little, brows drawing together momentarily from the insane stretch. Frankie cups your cheek and brings a strand of hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear.

”Relax, my love,” he groans, himself as taken with the tightness as you are. ”You can take me.”

”I can take you,” you acknowledge, hands on his broad shoulders drawing strength from him. ”Just give me a minute.”

”You can have two.”

Gradually, you manage to accomodate him, and you make him lie down on his back. You hiss as the changed angle makes it feel like he’s all the way up past your cervix.

”Goddamn, baby, that’s deep,” you shake your head with a little laugh. ”It always gets me.”

”Always gets you off...”

You slap Frankie’s tummy gently. ”Knock it off or I won’t ride you.”

”As if you could stop now.”

”You’re right,” you sigh as you start to move tentatively, seeking the right spots and angles, finding them faster than expected. ”Frankie...”

”I know, baby, it’s okay, take what you need from me,” he groans as he grabs your hips to hold on for the ride. You move tightly back and forth to hit your spot, sitting up straight and rubbing your clit with one hand as the other cups your breast. It’s a sure way of having an orgasm, riding Frankie like this, having all of him inside of you and rubbing everything at once, because he’s filling every inch of you, the delectable fullness driving you crazy as you ride faster, harder, until the orgasm takes you apart. You give your clit a rest and lean forward, supporting yourself with your hands on Frankie’s chest, still grinding your hips but slowing down and changing the rhythm and movement. Now you move up and down, your release lubing Frankie enough to allow for frictionless pleasure.

”Oh, sweet baby,” he prays, covering your tits with his big hands. ”Baby, just like that, I love that.”

”I know, baby,” you moan, coming to an almost lazy pace, placing more weight on your knees to allow for a thorough slide up and down his cock. ”It feels so good to cum on your cock, I’m gonna let you feel it too.”

You lean down to give him a sloppy kiss. ”I want you to cum in my pussy, Francisco, can you do that for me?”

”Yes, my love,” he groans, licking into your mouth, ”I’ll do that for you.”

”Good boy,” you coo, burying your hands in his soft hair as you continue to kiss him. He’s like putty in your hands, taking kiss after kiss from you, moaning at how tightly your wet pussy is squeezing him as you maintain a steady, slowy pace. Still playing with your nipples, it’s by now more for his pleasure than yours, but you are more than happy to give him that. You know he’s closing in on his climax when his hands desert your tits to instead fist into the cover by his sides. Your name comes in short puffs, his face scrunches adorably.

”Just like that,” he whines, pink tongue darting out to lick his lips, ”don’t stop fucking me, please!”

Your thighs are burning but you go faster, and the wet squishy sound of your slick pussy swallowing Frankie’s cock is joined by the increased slapping of skin again skin.

”Let go,” you urge him in a soft voice, ”it’s okay, Francisco, cum in my pussy, please.”

You lean down over his so that you can embrace him and let him wrap his arms around you. He buries his face in the crook of your neck as you ride him to his release. When you feel the first, hot ropes of cum paint your walls, you squeeze him hard and kiss him everywhere you can reach.

”Thank you,” you whisper between kisses, ”thank you, thank you, baby, thank you...”

Frankie trembles underneath you, his whole body stiff before he pulls you down next to him. His cock slips out of you, trailing cum down your thigh, but neither one of you care as you kiss each other softly. Frankie’s chocolate eyes are dazed but simmering with warmth underneath heavy eyelids, and his full lips are turned up in a happy little smile.

”Told you I’d treat you good,” you mumble. Frankie cups your cheek and kisses you.

”You always do, my love.”

[useramor]

bia, sweetie, i had a really shitty day. wanna give me a sweet buddie hc of yours?

hi sweetheart!!!! i’m sorry about ur day i am sending u love and sweet happy things always. luv u

anyway:

buck and eddie don’t even realize that they had their first kiss until they pull away. they’ve been dancing around this moment for so long that when it finally happens it’s stupidly casual. it’s a blink and you’ll miss it moment. it’s an i’ve loved you all my life of course i’ll kiss you in hello moment. they laugh about it because it’s ridiculous and it’s eddie who leans in again because therapy eddie goes after what he wants and what he wants is buck’s lips on his!!!

the firefam don’t bet on them. it’s too big and too important and it took them a while to get here, you know? no money gets traded but buck and eddie don’t know that, so they keep their relationship a secret for the first few weeks. or they try to, at least, because they’re not incredibly successful. something something they’ve waited months for this, years for this, whole lifetimes for this. they fuck up when buck kisses eddie goodbye in the parking lot. everyone’s insanely happy for them.

i like to imagine they would have another kid. they’d adopt a little girl and she would drive them crazy. eddie was young with chris, buck was young with chris, and they’re a little older when the little girl comes around. enough that her endless energy exhausts them way faster than chris ever did. but they’re all in love with her (chris included, even if he’s a grumpy teenager about it). buck buys her too many little baby outfits despite the fact that she has all of jee-yun’s hand-me-downs. eddie kisses buck silly the first time he hears him call her mija.

they get engaged way too quick. buck moves in within the first two months, probably. why on earth would they wait? wouldn’t you rush to start the rest of your life if it suddenly looked like every dream you never let linger? wouldn’t you want to sink your hands into the head-rush feeling so it never goes away? they know their life is riskier than most and by god they have let fear and insecurities hold them back for far too long!!!! besides, isn’t marriage abour unconditional love? sickness health and all that shit? like they both haven’t seen each other at their absolute worst. like they don’t love each other more than anyone in the world. it’s an all encompassing sort of thing. and you can see it. it’s written all over their faces every time they look at each other. gay asses.

buck lets the will slip. i don’t quite know to who - probably maddie or hen considering the sperm donor thing. he wants to be a dad so bad, and he accidentally sort of kind of lets slip that he doesn’t want to be a back up dad. they raise an eyebrow. what does that mean? buck blushes and stutters and tries to dismiss it but they don’t let it go. he caves and admits that eddie put him in his will. that if something happens to him, christopher goes to buck. idk who it would be, but i do know they’d both call him an idiot.

also i personally headcanon buck speaks spanish. the man lived in south america. he at the very least understands it. eddie, however, does not know this, until buck is at his first diaz family reunion and everyone at the table is speaking spanish and buck…joins in. eddie’s face goes hot. sophia and adriana notice, because what are sisters for? they can’t even blame him, though. not when buck’s charming the pants off their aunts from mexico, laughing and blushing at all their compliments. eddie’s very thorough with him that night, kisses him the second he’s away from knowing, prying eyes. buck realizes he can kind of get away with anything so long as he says it in spanish.

that’s all i got i think. hope u feel better <33

[lumiereandcogsworth]

22, 24, 40. I think I know the answer to number 1 but I'll ask that too because I know how much you like to write about them 😆

1. who is/are your comfort character(s)? oh golly my friend you spoil me!!!!! hehehe. well of course my comfort characters are adam and belle. and honestly i would include belle’s father maurice as well because i go through those periods of time where i am just fully only thinking about him. it’s like adam and belle go on some fancy little trip or something and my brain just stays home and latches onto maurice while they’re away LMAO. maurice is just so sweet and carries so much trauma and guilt in him and i love exploring it. how wonderful his time was with maria and then how quickly it was all snatched away from him… him raising his daughter all on his own and just DEALING with life. AGH. i love that guy.

but anyway, adam is definitely number one. i connect to him in so many ways (even beyond my own understanding) and i just. love him so much. like he’s just in my HEAD. 90% of my fics are just accidentally from his perspective. like i try to keep it neutral between the two of them but it always ends up being more in his head than belle’s. adam’s my homeboy he’s my lad he’s my sweet cheese!!! i’m endlessly defensive of him to the rest of the world and constantly proud of him in his own. his growth and learning to trust the goodness in his life, after all the shittiness he’s experienced, it’s just So Good.

i also love belle so so so much!!! SO MUCH!!! i just posted a character study about her becoming a queen and wife and mother when she never remotely imagined she’d get to be those things and just like. exploring her thoughts on it. and it was really fun!! i DO have big thoughts about her!! i also connect to her A LOT, she’s such a wonderful character and i hope to continue exploring her. she’s brilliant and kind but she’s also got this thorny sadness to her that makes it even more compelling. she’s not as perfect as adam thinks she is. that’s why they need each other so much! they’re both hurt from their pasts, from being isolated and feeling like no one in the world understood them, and now they have each other and it’s just!!!! AHHH.

22. what type of person are you? oh man i definitely don’t have the self-awareness to answer that. i’m… hopefully good? i think i’m very loyal… maybe funny sometimes? i don’t like socializing at all (it’s the autism) so i am probably something of a loner. though i also feel quite lonely at times. feel like no one understands me but that’s no one’s fault, i just don’t understand myself. hm. anyway i’ll move on before this turns into a therapy session.

24. if we were together on a rooftop, what would we be doing? i think we’d be eating some sort of fast food and maybe a movie would be playing on a laptop. we’d have blankets on and our laughter from the movie would echo out to the rest of the cityscape.

40. did you have any snacks today? well not yet i just woke up!! last night though i ate some cheese puffs which are among my absolute favorite snacks <3

weird asks!

[circular-jerkular]

Re: your question about frameworks other systems use for thinking about situations where system members have different beliefs, narratives, wants, urges, etc., The Fucked-Up Edition

It’s not something we talk much about, for a lot of reasons, but we definitely have parts of our system dynamic that just barely skirt the edges of pretty Messed Up—or actually just plain are Messed Up, just a somewhat-harm-reduced version. (And this is on top of a significant number of things—self-narratives, attractions, etc—about both of us individually that have very high Fucked-Up Potentials). I’m not going to bother getting more detailed, and just leave I at “we feel like this topic is definitely relevant to us too”.

To actually get into your question, pretty much the fundamental way we personally see ourselves as a system is that this is a relationship. “Parts of one self” has never really felt right to us (as you know, since you’ve heard us talk about it before lol), and a big reason why is that it’s never felt necessary, really? For instance, like you, we definitely see ways in which our various bits of Fucked Up Shit relate to each other’s experiences (and not only because a lot of it is in the relationships/connection/intimacy realm)—but, to us, it’s for the exact same reasons that singlets with Issues tend to gravitate towards partners with either parallel or directly-perpendicular traits to the (shitty) interpersonal dynamics they’re used to. Reenacting trauma in relationships and projecting your own needs and insecurities into partners is a timeless staple of couples therapy, and viewing ourselves through that lens makes sense to us. Yeah, it’s not like either one of us could just “break up and move out” if our relationship went to hell, but there’s plenty of partners who are working through very tough stuff together and still fundamentally committed to getting through it side by side.

As for specific harmful traits or behaviors, it doesn’t (again, just personally) feel necessary to think of it in terms of “if one of us believes it, both of us do”, especially since it’s not like we think of one of us as The Problem and the other one as “just putting up with them.” No one’s getting exiled or isolated in order to try to pretend we don’t have problems, and we don’t need to individually also “own” every one of each other’s issues in order to help each other work on them. (Not that some of them aren’t genuinely shared, or that they don’t ever interact, because of course they do sometimes.)

And yeah, being a system means that we really have a front-row seat to each other’s monsters. But, well:

“We don't fall in love with people because they're good people. We fall in love with people whose darkness we recognise. You can fall in love with a person for all of the right reasons, but that kind of love can still fall apart. But when you fall in love with a person because your monsters have found a home in them-- that's the kind of love that owns your skin and bones. Love, I am convinced, is found in the darkness. It is the candle in the night.”

― C. JoyBell C.

Anyways, that’s our take. I think it’s interesting/neat how we tend to agree with a lot of the takeaway behaviors that you (and others) get to via parts language, while personally using an entirely different framework for getting there ourselves. Cheers

Fucking CHEERS INDIGO, and thank you for your ask. It was really nice to read through, and it’s always so interesting to see others perspectives.

For me… I mean, call me co-dependent, it’s accurate, but this reflects a lot of what me and my partner are. It’s been hard, recognizing that my relationship with them is fundamentally different than my relationship with my/ourselves. I can’t read their mind; I can’t understand their reactions as well as my own.

I think that’s why I gravitate towards parts language and part-of-a-whole mentality. It’s hard for me to see my relationship with my parts as anything similar to my relationship with people, particularly with how close I am to my parts.

It’s wild to hear how others experience it so much differently 💜

[necros-writing-stuff]

Okay Okay here’s my Ghost getting a noncon blowjob discord ramble - gn nurse, possibly OOC on Ghost’s behalf. He’s having a rough few days (got stabbed, having PTSD symptoms from childhood).

I won’t be using the main Ghost tags cause most people there don’t seem into the dead dove.

So the 141 got a new nurse to help out at base. They're quiet at first before opening up to everyone, but it's not hard to see that they seem to have a hard time talking to Ghost. But it's Ghost, he thinks that answering "Affirmative," to a simple question constitutes as a conversation, so no one can really blame their nurse for only giving the Lt. a brief smile as they pass him in the corridors and never more.

That's until he comes back passed out from a leaking stab wound. The lads had gone out drinking, just a local bar. Ghost had had a few, and as they'd started stumbling their way back to the base (walking that far seems fun when you're hammered), he'd stopped to take a piss in an alley. Hadn't seen the guy shaking behind a skip, clutching a knife. He'd had too many, letting his guard down for once in his damn life - and now he's paying for it.

Countless missions around the world. A shitty ass childhood. Nuclear bombs going off not even mile away from him. And it's some fuckin’ back-alley nutcase that manages to get a good enough hit to kill him.

Thankfully, it doesn't actually kill him. But he does feel confused when he wakes up in the medical bay, the newest nurse prodding at his side and making him wince. They flinch as soon as they notice he's awake, as if they'd been caught doing something wrong. He notices, with relief, that he's still got a mask on. Hides the quirk of his lips at seeing them so jumpy.

"You're conscious, that's good," they mutter quietly, slinking off before he can ask how the fuck he got here. He probably yelled out when he'd been shanked, the lads coming and dealing with it and dragging his sorry arse home.

The doc comes in soon enough, gives him the lowdown. He's on bedrest for the next week. Because the knife knicked his small intestine and its a bitch to heal, along with some pain meds and steroids to get him up and rolling as soon as he can manage. Shit.

Ghost hates being stuck inside. Hates that every fucking thing he does is being monitored "for his health" and that its that nurse that has to do it because doctors don't waste their time on helping patients waddle to the loo and the other nurses are on leave since the squad were all on breaks. He hates the feeling of being high on those painkillers.

And fuck Soap and Gaz, too. Coming to visit just to tease him as Ghost's personal little tender switches out his gauze. They try to get them to join in, but they just give a tight-lipped smile before finishing up and running away again.

"The fuck you even do to them? They act like you tried to kill them once." Soap shakes his head, eyes following as the nurse disappears beyond the closing door.

"Nothing I'm aware of," Ghost huffs, shifting his hips and trying to get more comfortable, ignoring the pain in his stomach, “but at least they make a nice cup of tea.” That gets a chuckle and some jokes at his “Too English” expense.

Lying in bed all day is starting to make his body ache, he wants to be out, wants to go on the longest fucking run of his life. But every time he moves there's still that telltale sharp pain.

He's stubborn. But he's not stupid. He knows to be a good boy and follow the doc's orders, or he'll fuck himself up even worse and won't be back in the field for a long, long time.

He misses it. Misses the adrenaline of it all, the justified rage that can take over him so much it plateaus out into a calm coolness that helps him kill with all that precision. Like therapy to him, that. A fucked up form of therapy, sure. But it helps him not take it out on those that don't deserve it.

The lads leave him for the night, and he sighs as he settles in to sleep. The nurse comes back, closes the curtain around his bed and mutters quietly that they'll be back at 6am to check on him, but to press the button if he needed anything. He just nods, waiting to hear the door close before he takes the mask off and places it on the side.

He's never been one to sleep much, but he comes to prefer mornings in the bay. His body feels looser then, relaxed for reasons he can't figure out. Still, he never let him self sleep in. Never slept past 5am on a good day, and it seems tonight is no different. Ghost wakes up in the pitch-blackness of the medical bay, groaning and stiff.

Because someone's between his legs with their tongue lapping at his cock like a thirsty mutt. There's a mix of feelings bubbling in his chest. Anger, sure. Confusion. Fear that he's being sexually assaulted in his own base by an anonymous abuser. He half thinks he's dreaming, but the little licks are too sharply pleasant to be imaginary.

He stops moving as the tongue halts, the owner pausing to guess if he had woken up or not. He fakes sleep, keeping his breathing even until his assailant goes back to violating him. Slowly, his hand creeps from the mattress, finding the switch for the lamp.

He flips it on, surprised to be met with the wide stare of his nurse. Deer in the headlights, that's the look.

He doesn't speak. Isn't exactly sure what to say. It being that nurse is only confusing him more. They avoid him, always. As much as they can. Yet they're the one making his dick leak pre with the sweet attention they give.

There's a long, long period of silence as they stare each other down, a game of chicken to see if he'll pounce and start pummelling or if they'll run away before he can.

He doesn't expect them to slowly start licking again, one, two, three stripes of their tongue up and down before sucking him as far into their eager mouth as he can go.

So many things he's done. So many experiences that few things surprised him anymore, yet since the night of being stabbed he's had more new experiences than in the past, oh, 5 years at least. Not good ones, that's for sure.

His breath catches as they suck particularly hard, an odd noise coming from his throat as his mouth falls open and his hips jolt.

They don't break eye contact the entire time, and he's suddenly very aware that the mask is off. But they've already seen his face - and evidently a lot more.

His brain starts working again, patterns he hadn't realised were there falling into place. He always feels better in the mornings. More relaxed, his body pleasantly tired in that way he would get after the occasional (very rare) wank he granted himself. This isn't the first time his little helper had done this. But how hadn't he noticed-

Pain meds. They'd knocked him out right good for the night. His dose was reduced this morning.

He still doesn't know what to do. It makes him feel vulnerable in a way that he hasn't felt since he was a kid, being tormented by his father - by his brother hanging down from the top bunk whispering with that mask on. He can't look away, can only stare wide-eyed as he grunts and moans before his head lolls back just from how good it feels.

He's breathing hard, the addition of his nurse's hands gently massaging the base of his cock and a thumb making tiny little teasing circles on his ball-sack sending him over the edge shamefully quickly.

They swallow everything. Pull off of him with a sickeningly wet pop before putting him away clinically as if they'd just been examining his dick for medical purposes.

"You should catch some more sleep, sir," they whisper, leaning over and clicking the lamp off before they leave him alone in that dark room once more.

He's trembling now. Stuck gazing up at the tiles in the ceiling as his head drifts away. It's not right. None of that was okay. So why the fuck didn't he do something to make it stop? Why couldn't he move, speak, fucking blink Morse code?

He’s not some kid. He’s a trained soldier, the one called when you want the job done with as few loose strings as humanly possible. With no traces, no evidence, no photos. So why?

Why does he let them do it again in the morning, with a happy little smile on their face as he wonders where the fuck Ghost went and Simon Riley took his place.

[partyinthemysterymachine]

so i’m gonna get down and serious for a second here y’all ok

tw: talk of suicide

===

so like. listen: i’m super mentally ill. i’ve been in and out of hospitals and therapy, done many different treatments, had my own experiences, successes and failures and neutrals, and i’m always going to be sick. always. that’s just the fact of it.

i’m always going to have great days or weeks or years, and really shitty ones. and i’m gonna be suicidal and i’m gonna get This Close to going through with it. i got the closest i ever had, back in 2018.(? 2019? that area. memory hasn’t worked right in ages, lmao)

at 34 years old i seriously didn’t think i’d be here. i legit didn’t think i’d make it to 25, let alone 30. and those’re pretty big numbers. 

thing is, i guess i haven’t done much and i live with a lot of guilt. i’m disabled. working, let alone living every day, is very hard for me.

but never. in my fucking life. would i have believed the sequence butterfly events that have gotten me here. if Future Me had come knockin’ on 18-year-old Past Me’s door. and let me in a few lil’ secrets. and actually? wouldn’t want to know.

i’ve dealt with a whole lot of personal hardship and heartache, bullshit flying day and night, the weight of my failures and catching fire and toxicity and crashing and crawling out and becoming a better person and making mistakes and doing it all over again just for one good year, and then have it all crumbling. it happens. it just fucking happens, mates, and sometimes, you end up in the hospital where you actually need to be.

but those opinions aside, what i’m really getting at here with all this buildup is this:

keep fighting.

the next year is a big number for some people. the next tomorrow, week, month. big numbers. day at a time. minute by minute. your brain is an asshole. hell, you might be an asshole. a new hour’s upon us: learn to grow past it. accept recovery. accept the next ten minutes. the new failure. the last one. a chance at success whatever the fuck it is you want to do next even if it’s eat gummy worms and rewatch Most Brutal Metal Scream 2012 for the 20th time today.

just live, mate. the days are scary and time goes on. i can only speak for myself and i say, thank fucking god i’m still here. 

because never in my fucking life would i have thought my events would’ve taken me not only this far, but to accomplish this much. to meet these man people, to share their everyday with them. to make and break friendships, to watch them peter out, to pick up on them again. to keep learning and growing and making mistakes and making happiness for not only me, but others whom i love, and love me back, even if they’re a passerby stranger.

i’m goddamn proud of myself. life is hard. life fucking sucks sometimes. my experience is not yours, and yours is not mine, and we cannot fully understand each other because of it. we can only relate in our own way, but fact aligns in the world’s greatest way to say “fuck you” to everything else, to ever exist:

just keep fucking living. just. keep doing it, mate. 

you’ll get there, wherever it is, in your own time. it sucks to wait. it’s shit to have to wonder when everything’s going to pick up because boy howdy has it been Ultra Bad for Too Long. but seriously.

i promise it’s worth it. i fucking promise it’s worth it. 

just hang on. when you choose to hang on, when you choose recovery, choose to get better, to be a better person, to learn and grow and gain confidence and defend and succeed and flourish.. shit, mate. it’s not easy. it’s a constant process. but it’s you. that’s your gift to yourself. a wonderful gift. 

life’s a piece of shit, but i’m glad i’m still alive. 

i’m unhappy a lot, but i’m really happy for what i’ve done, am doing, and who i’ve met along the way, even as recently as this past month.

i’m really anxious and fraying, but i’m really looking forward to tomorrow and what i might bring to myself and others in the future.

self-love is hard. it’s gonna look arrogant and selfish to a lot of people. maybe it is, and can be, for sure. but i love me; i love my work. i love my skills and talents even though i despise many parts of me and my sick brain and what i’ve done to me, and done to others. that’s just life tho; and the world turns madly on.

but at least i’m alive. 

i’m glad i’m here for it. and i’m glad you are too. 

love u. see you tomorrow, and the tomorrow after that; and the tomorrow after that. 🥚💖

[my-name-is-jefferooni]

Talking about the Chaotix Again at very very late hours in the night

It’s about to be midnight and it’ll probably be close to 1:00 AM by the time I finish this but I got a brain blast and it could not be left to die in my brain overnight as I slept so I’m bringing this motherfucking idea to light when I should very much be sleeping so I hope yall appreciate what I’m doing because only God knows how wrecked I’ll be in the morning or how long I’ll sleep in for.

(Pssst! Also check out my previous Chaotix analysis/ramble of sorts from like. A month ago. Still relevant to this post and acts as some extra context too.)

So, I decided to watch Adrenaline Dubs’s issue 17 dub, and there’s one thing I noticed during an exchange between Vector and Espio… I’ll get into the specifics of the exchange when I get to it because I gotta get to the additional context first!

The Chaotix, as I’ve pointed out beforehand in my previous analysis, are kind of just your average everyday family. Think Spy X Family, but they don’t really have any super secret identities to hide from each other and they’re all just young and dumb detectives trying to pay the bills. Thinking of them like this puts the Metal Virus into a much more tragic perspective than before, where they would’ve just been some of Sonic’s friends who just so happen to be the only ones who know the struggle of a shitty economy. Because now, if you take into account the fact that before meeting everyone in Heroes, these guys were just… A family. A ragtag, run-of-the-mill, silly and goofy family. Not related by blood, sure, but their bond was strong enough to call themselves a family even when they first met way back in Knuckles Chaotix! And ever since Heroes, they’ve just been trying to balance life, work, and fighting motherfucking eldritch horrors, demons, gods, mad scientists, and the like. Suffice to say, they ain’t really used to things such as the Metal Virus.

So, when it hits…

Their first reaction is to be skeptical or to panic. Charmy’s a very straightforward kid. He takes everything to heart and is way too pure for his own good, so naturally, he begins to panic! Espio also begins panicking, in his own way, as we see him begin to sweat and start thinking heavily about all the possibilities within like. Five seconds. Seriously, this mans needs therapy, his brain is working too fast for his emotions like Jesus Christ. And Vector… Well, Vector’s trying to stay calm. He’s not too worried, suggesting that they should all just wait for their next client, because the possibility of Eggman already being at their city was far too slim! While Charmy and Espio are so focused on the negatives, Vector is trying his hardest to not let this crisis get to his head. Because they surely have some more time, right? Surely, Eggman can’t already be here, right…?

He’s sorely mistaken when a Zombot then starts kicking down his door.

And suddenly he realizes that this is something much bigger than he initially anticipated.

Espio and Charmy immediately go on the offensive, but Vector stops them in a panic. His voice is tinged with terror and fear, something raw and sad in his voice that the other two can’t pinpoint. He grabs onto Charmy’s leg and screams at him to not touch the Zombots! If he does, he’ll be infected too, and that is the last thing Vector wants for his kid. Meanwhile, Espio is stricken with confusion, wondering why his kunai had no effect on the target…! Because that… That should’ve worked! It always worked! Even against Eggman robots! And then that’s when he realizes, when they ALL realize… That this isn’t just Eggman this time.

They run out of their home in fear, masking their terror with the noble deed of finding survivors. “Finding survivors…” They’ve never had to even suggest doing such a thing before.

Look at Vector right here. Yeah, I know, he looks pretty goofy holding that stop sign like that. But that’s kinda it, that’s the point! Vector is now resorting to ripping state property out of the ground, and using it as a weapon! Previously, he would’ve just used brute force, but now? He’s taking this seriously. Way more seriously than before.

And now we get to the exchange I mentioned at the beginning. Where Vector claims the docks are the best option. There’s an air of seriousness to it all, a clear lack of his usual goofiness and “Yeah sure it’s just Eggman” attitude. Vector genuinely cares right now, but most importantly, he’s taking it 100% seriously. Like he’s in a horror movie.

And, well, isn’t he? Aren’t they all technically in a horror movie at this point? So why not play the role as the heroes of the film? Why not act like the world is crumbling around them? Why not act like angsty, brooding teenagers in the 80’s? Why not pretend like they know what they’re doing?

The Chaotix are not used to any of this at all. They’ve never seen the horror films they watch actually come to life. It’s why they’re being so dramatic, like the world is ending right in front of their eyes, like they’re in a movie trailer or something! They’re putting up a front, pretending that it’s kinda like a movie of its own, and that the credits will eventually roll again.

They don’t have much hope, but they’d be damned if they didn’t use every last ounce of that hope to make it out of this alive. For Vector. For Charmy. For Espio. For each other. For Team Chaotix.

—

OKAY THANK GOD I GOT THAT DONE IN ONLY A HALF HOUR CUZ I DIDNT FINISH WATCHING THE DUB AND IM SURE THERE’S MORE TO COVER SO I CAN STILL DO IT TOMORROW LET’S GOOOOOO

Thanks for reading! Hope that was enjoyable! I’m having fun with adding all these screenshots to my analysis, it really adds a lot!

[themculibrary]

Bisexual Characters Masterlist 2

part one, part three

another way to fly (ao3) - newsbypostcard steve/sam E, 8k bisexual!sam

Summary: Maybe that’s why it hurt so goddamn much, being in love with Steve Rogers: knowing that this was another one he probably wouldn’t be able to save.

(Or: feelings are complicated and nothing makes sense, but the one thing Sam knows for sure is that he’s definitely in love with the bastard, even when he doesn’t fucking like him very much.)

a stranger to my eyes (ao3) - jaih0 sam/bucky T, 50k bisexual!bucky, bisexual!sam

Summary: He should have expected it, but somehow, he still let himself feel a certain amount of shock upon seeing the door of his apartment ajar. The new supplies were placed on the floor with a gentleness that could have only been due to the fact that Alpine was in one of those supplies. Technically, there was no point in being stealthy now, given the grace and finesse he had used to trample up the stairs with the fruits of his shopping spree. Still, old habits die hard, and people who sneak into apartments die harder.

In which Sam saves Bucky, Bucky saves Sam, and they just can’t seem to figure out what it means.

Attention Please (ao3) - shipskicksandgiggles rhodey/tony T, 3k bisexual!rhodey, bisexual!tony

Summary: There's this one tactic that Rhodey's been trying to use to get Tony to notice him. Somehow, he failed to notice that Tony doesn't get jealous.

Figures A and B (ao3) - castiowl steve/bucky M, 7k bisexual!steve

Summary: Steve and Bucky are finally together again, but how should they tell the rest of the Avengers? Turns out, they’re plenty good at figuring it out themselves.

In which people walk in on make-out sessions, Steve accidentally goes speed-dating, and friends can actually be too accepting.

How It Should Have Gone (ao3) - hawksonfire clint/steve/natasha E, 40k bisexual!clint

Summary: When Steve Rogers wakes up from a nap he wasn’t supposed to wake up from, he’s not expecting much.

What do you get when you add a deaf archer, a redhead assassin, five university students at varying places on the gender spectrum, aliens, the son of your dead friend, and the fact that almost everyone else you knew is dead?

A very confused Steve Rogers. Add in a splash of romantic feelings, a ton of therapy, and Nick Fury’s shitty manipulation, and well…

Steve wants to go back to sleep.

If We Go Down, We Go Down Together (ao3) - alexndr_writes mj/peter M, 11k bisexual!mj, bisexual!pepper

Summary: Michelle Jones (MJ) is excited to begin the next chapter of her life as THE Pepper Pott’s personal intern. Things are great! She gets her first boyfriend, she gets to yell at bigots, and is so close to being valedictorian. Everything she has been dreaming of is just a fingertip away… minus the fact that she sees the dreaded two lines on a plastic stick. Now she has to make a choice.

i’ve never fallen from quite this high (ao3) - tavana_lee sam/bucky G, 5k bisexual!bucky, bisexual!sam

Summary: “I’ve been waiting for you to notice me for quite some time.”

Learn Me Like I Learn You (ao3) - HogwartsToAlexandria may/pepper E, 793 bisexual!pepper

Summary: They danced around each other for a while, and then a while longer, but this is the night — May's lips still taste of the wine they shared and Pepper's cheeks feel warm with more than alcohol. This is the night.

Let's Play House (ao3) - Not Applicable (not_applicable) rhodey/steve M, 4k bisexual!rhodey, bisexual!steve

Summary: “So. Good morning, I guess.”

“Yeah, good morning,” Steve said, and he took a seat on the bed beside Rhodey. Rhodey was still just in his boxers with his phone resting on one leg, and he was twisting his matching wedding band around his left ring finger as he grinned warily at Steve. “So,” Steve continued, and he held up his left hand, “this happened last night.”

of bookshelves and boys (ao3) - agentromanova steve/tony T, 4k bisexual!natasha, bisexual!steve

Summary: “I'm looking for The Art of Electronics by Paul Horowitz and Winfield Hill.”

Steve's screaming on the inside. “I can definitely get that for you,” he (successfully) says calmly, and scans the bookshelf in a more subdued manner than he did a couple of moments before. Spotting it on the shelf, he reaches up to grab it for the man.

As he hands it to the man, their hands brush together. Feeling a spark shoot through his body, his eyes immediately snap up to meet the man. Steve leaves his hand in that position for another moment, and then slowly retracts it.

A beat passes, and with his eyes still trained on Steve, a shy smile quirks at the end of the man's lips.

“Thanks, Bookshelf Boy."

one step closer (ao3) - Flowerparrish steve/bucky T, 3k

Summary: Bucky doesn’t actually mean to discover it the way he does. He’s just going through Steve’s Wikipedia page one night when he can’t sleep, and he discovers a short paragraph about Steve coming out as bisexual and advocating for LGBT rights.

Over Thoughts of a Kiss (ao3) - shipskicksandgiggles rhodey/tony T, 3k bisexual!tony

Summary: Rhodey was raised to be kind to everyone, no matter who they loved. This of course extended to his roommate, until it almost didn't.

Pride (ao3) - Indigomountain G, 2k bisexual!tony

Summary: Steve wanders into a Gay Pride parade.

Pride Parade (ao3) - Laslus steve/tony T, 6k bisexual!steve, bisexual!tony

Summary: The first time Steve saw Tony going to Pride he had quite a few questions.

OR

How Tony Stark Gave The Best Sexuality Talk Ever.

To Me, You Are Purrfect (ao3) - Harishe Art (Harishe), musette22 steve/bucky E, 8k bisexual!steve

Summary: Steve Rogers is many things. A loving son, a born fighter, a proud member of the LGBTQI+ community, and, if his friend Sam is to be believed, a stubborn ass.

In addition, Steve is an artist. An actual, bona fide artist who barista’d his way through art school and has the overpriced, hard-earned degree to prove it. While he waits for his inevitable big break, Steve just has to suck it up and do some jobs on the side to be able to pay the rent on his two-bedroom Brooklyn apartment. Like, for instance, painting pet portraits.

As fate would have it, fellow Brooklynite Bucky Barnes is looking to commission a portrait of himself and his beloved cat Alpine as a birthday gift for his sister Becca.

Turns out Steve Rogers is just the man for the job...

What Happens on Earth X, Stays on Earth X (ao3) - kuzibah steve/tony, bucky/loki/steve M, 4k bisexual!pepper, bisexual!steve, bisexual!tony

Summary: Tony is days away from becoming a father, but there's one last thing Pepper wants him to take care of before the baby arrives.

[imtheworst-imsorry]

i’ve only been here since monday and they put me on wheelchair/bed rest bc apparently i’ve somehow Lost weight since i got here. which my ed is happy about but i’m not thrilled about the wc/br because i’m not even allowed to go to groups which seems counterintuitive, they did let me go see the therapy dog that came today (i think they may have taken pity on me since it’s my birthday today) and technically my media privileges were suspended bc i didn’t complete dinner last night (i only managed like 2 tiny bites before i broke down sobbing) but they let me listen to some music to calm me down and then i just chilled out the rest of the night, and now i guess since i completed tonight and i’m being compliant with wc/br they let me have my phone and laptop, which is nice. all the staff are really nice and supportive and patient with me and all the other patients that i’ve talked to have been nice, i’m really bad at remembering names so i feel bad constantly asking people their names again but oh well. my mom is coming to visit in a bit which will be good, i feel really bad about putting my parents through all this and about being here on my birthday, which i don’t really like anyway, i know they’re sad i’m not home, but they want me to get the help and support i need so it is what it is. they make us drink SO MUCH water, i didn’t think i was very dehydrated but i guess i was, i swear i’ve never peed this much in my life, but at least that means my kidneys are working ig lol. my first ekg was a bit wonky so they redid it and it was a little better, and i had a bone density scan earlier, too. it took them a lot of time and confusion trying to figure out how to get me my T shots while i’m here but they finally got it together and i’m getting it tonight, thank goodness, bc in another day or so i’d start feeling REALLY shitty. they did scare the (metaphorical) crap out of me when they said my drug screening came back with amphetamines and ecstasy (and weed but i knew that would be there and i told them i smoke so that’s whatever) but apparently wellbutrin can sometimes give a false positive for those kinds of drugs, i think i would have keeled over if i hadn’t been sitting down bc aside from when my psychiatrist and i were trying adderall to see if it would help my adhd (it didn’t) i’ve never even been near those drugs, i made a pact with myself after everything went to shit in brooklyn that i’m NEVER doing anything harder than weed and i told them that (unless i ever try some kind of depression treatment with like, ket or psychedelics or whatever but that would be under medical supervision) but they’re gonna redo my labwork in a few days to see if some of my other values are getting better. i’m pretty sure i have my full treatment team meeting on friday, my parents are going to try to come if they can make it work with their schedule, and i’m hoping i feel less anxious about all the uncertainty once we do that, i don’t like unknown variables and there’s a lot of that right now but i’ve only been here not even 3 full days. really what i’m worried about other than just Everything is what kind of diagnosis i’m gonna get, and when i’m going to be able to start doing meal planning bc i’ll do a lot better when i can make my own choices and know what’s coming, and i’m worried they might take me off the wellbutrin bc you’re not supposed to be on it if you have an ed, but it’s the ONLY thing that’s ever even remotely helped me (along with the remeron that i’m on, too) but my doctor said he’s going to talk to my outside psychiatrist to coordinate care and i trust her to advocate for me about that bc she knows how hard it was to find something that works for me. so there’s still a lot of stuff i don’t have answers for yet, which i hate, but i kinda just have to trust the process and know that the people here know what they’re doing and keep doing my best bc that’s all i can do rn

[unknwnxquantity]

I need to vent and this feels like a safe space at the moment. Fuck physically writing in a journal my thoughts are too fast for all that.

It’s funny as I type things escape my mind, but when I don’t try to put things into words, I think 30282736 miles per min with 10 different topics racing all at the same time. But I’m tired of negative ass ppl bro. Negative ass nasty attitudes about everything. It’s like i can’t win. I can’t!! It’s so draining. I miss lightheartedness. I miss silliness. Why can’t people find the good in a situation even if it’s shitty?

I ended things with my therapist last week. It feels like a breakup. I mean that’s a little dramatic lol. Love her, she gave me tough love when I needed it (she also shares my sisters bday and my brothers moon sign, that was a nice thing that showed me I was supposed to have her). Had her for a few years but all it was was talk therapy and I’m tired of talking. I started to feel ashamed of myself with all the things I talked about. Talk talk talk. I’m so tireddddd of talking of the same thingssss and bringing them more to life by overly thinking and ruminating, going in circles. I’m so tired of being that person. And i was also inconsistent with her these last couple months with our sessions. Not living in my truth. So I have another therapist that I’m gonna try with but he’s a man so idk. But it’ll be more adhd focused so I guess that’ll be more of what I need.

As the yts call it im “in between a rock and a hard place”. In several different ways. There are easy solutions to my problems. But I don’t take them. Call me a hypocrite, but doing the right thing is not easy. It’s fucking hard. I hate not being comfortable. I feel so isolated. I’m not alone but I feel alone. I feel like a bother and an annoyance to everyone except my kitten. That’s my girly fr. Girl cats are just itttt, I love the dynamics of both boy and girl cats individually. But girl cats are just that girl! I feel they’re more empathetic, caring of your needs/the bond and more loving overall. Boy cats I feel are more standoffish and on their own terms. Get you a girl cat or just a cat in general. Especially black cats they get a bad wrap like pitbulls but end up being the most gentle little things.

I feel I’m becoming like ppl I don’t want to be. Like an old middle aged person full of regrets and envious of those 18-22. I feel like times ticking. I’m 25 I have my whole life ahead of me and yet why do I feel my youth withering away?? I blame social media. That’s y I deactivated my IG fuck everybody I compare myself to. Fuck those ppl who live freely and go to parties while I feel I don’t have that. But also not fuck them and I’m happy for them.

Things are good tho in my life with the places I work. Ppl respect me and love me. It took some time but once I started being myself, with each job me getting more comfortable that much quicker and my anxiety not controlling how I am socially, ppl love me bro. I make ppl laugh!! They ask for my advice! They say they love my good energy! But these jobs aren’t my career path, so it’s gonna be hard saying goodbye which I will be very soon.

I miss my family but also I don’t. If my sister sees this which you won’t, I’m sorry you know what I mean. I live away from them. They give me headaches but they are my soul family (even tho my parents are def more behind spiritually than me and my siblings so the irony is funny). I miss our trips to Marshall’s and starbies. I miss our movie nights and I miss our long walks all together. I miss my mom blaring bad bunny and me pretending like I know the lyrics bc my mom never taught me Spanish 😭 (my moms an og fan dont play with her, from like 2017ish and saw this man several times before he got big). I don’t miss the chaos tho or the dysfunction, or passive aggressiveness with certain individuals that are in my family’s life.

And it’s funny bc today was such a good fucking day. So many synchronicities. I got to see fucking Steve wilkos bro lol and I was taped where you can see me!! Ima be on tv!! It reminds me of my last job where I’d be around famous ppl a lot and interact with them. That was nice. And yet everything’s hitting me like a truck. It feels like I’m not growing. I am but I’m not. I am and have come so far but it’s also like have I? But then it’s like yeah I have.

Anyways my phones dying. I’m listening to blind by sza. I feel that even tho I am not a straight woman dealing with men🤣 no jk bc the songs not really about that. But I do feel blind to all the things inside of me and what my soul tells me. I loveee when women sing/speak about how embarrassing it is to have feelings!! It is embarrassing!! Like yes and no. Also good days is really nice it feels like therapy in a song like blind. I need to listen to more sza. I like her project z tho, I haven’t listened to all of ctrl or sos so I gotta get on that? I need more women artists in my life who speak of mourning and the depths and complexities of their emotions.

Oh well. Should I post this? Why not

[janedoewho]

You’re never the only one

This planet is full of people. The numbers are crazy but unfortunately when it comes to the kinds… only a few different types. Even though humans are tend to believe they’re all unique with their own issues, we are absolutely not!  It’s so fucking funny to see how possible to find someone who feels just like you. I’m never the only one. You are never the only one. It’s amazingly crazy how similar we all are. this younger man is just happened to be sitting one chair next to mine and what he tells to his female friend is what I feel and try to tell people about. What used to make me sleepless at night. Now the night cries are mostly about more specific issues but oh boy don’t I understand. Don’t I know the void you have in you. How I would love to turn and tell you been there done that and it’ll never be better unless you embrace it. But that would be so rude isn’t it? That would be impossibly rude to basically tell him hey I was eaves dropping and you’re fucked up! Wanna know how I know ? 5 years of therapy still feeling shitty! I wish I had to confidence. She is not really listening too. She is just making phone call about her fancy life and in between giving him useless don’t worry be better tips. I think he is into her… but why would you be so vulnerable to someone that you’re fond of. Well, see I got issues too…

It’s been a crazy day so far. Starting off with an anger, crying at the bus stop, fainting in the subway, then a bolt of joy for no reason. I just saw them kissing each other, Jesus how bad I’m at reading people. Looks like he was just being vulnerable to his lover which is only fair I guess. Anyways to get back too my own case I should say that it is still considerably early for the day to be over and I still have that lump in my throat that has been sitting there for weeks now. Wow the thing she is telling him about right now. She is telling her about confidence and how strong of a women she has in her family. Since I just confirmed that I was bad on reading people I can freely be silly and make one more reading. That is the a very falsely  matched couple. He was talking his mind what I would rate very private and this school cafe is a very wrong place to do so and now they are talking about money and how he wouldn’t ask her to work if they would have enough money. He is back to tell her about his grandma and her illnesses and she is looking at tiger pics on her phone. I should stop this is very wrong of me to do so. I still haven’t eaten today and I should have eat something before I go back to class. I have 30 minutes left. It’s time for me too leave now the lump is troubling me time to time.  Here goes my mind dumpster.

[mrsjerrysunborne]

You’re never the only one

This planet is full of people. The numbers are crazy but unfortunately when it comes to the kinds… only a few different types. Even though humans are tend to believe they’re all unique with their own issues, we are absolutely not!  It’s so fucking funny to see how possible to find someone who feels just like you. I’m never the only one. You are never the only one. It’s amazingly crazy how similar we all are. this younger man is just happened to be sitting one chair next to mine and what he tells to his female friend is what I feel and try to tell people about. What used to make me sleepless at night. Now the night cries are mostly about more specific issues but oh boy don’t I understand. Don’t I know the void you have in you. How I would love to turn and tell you been there done that and it’ll never be better unless you embrace it. But that would be so rude isn’t it? That would be impossibly rude to basically tell him hey I was eaves dropping and you’re fucked up! Wanna know how I know ? 5 years of therapy still feeling shitty! I wish I had to confidence. She is not really listening too. She is just making phone call about her fancy life and in between giving him useless don’t worry be better tips. I think he is into her… but why would you be so vulnerable to someone that you’re fond of. Well, see I got issues too…

It’s been a crazy day so far. Starting off with an anger, crying at the bus stop, fainting in the subway, then a bolt of joy for no reason. I just saw them kissing each other, Jesus how bad I’m at reading people. Looks like he was just being vulnerable to his lover which is only fair I guess. Anyways to get back too my own case I should say that it is still considerably early for the day to be over and I still have that lump in my throat that has been sitting there for weeks now. Wow the thing she is telling him about right now. She is telling her about confidence and how strong of a women she has in her family. Since I just confirmed that I was bad on reading people I can freely be silly and make one more reading. That is the a very falsely  matched couple. He was talking his mind what I would rate very private and this school cafe is a very wrong place to do so and now they are talking about money and how he wouldn’t ask her to work if they would have enough money. He is back to tell her about his grandma and her illnesses and she is looking at tiger pics on her phone. I should stop this is very wrong of me to do so. I still haven’t eaten today and I should have eat something before I go back to class. I have 30 minutes left. It’s time for me too leave now the lump is troubling me time to time.  Here goes my mind dumpster.