#already feel like crying and i don't know why

[rafesfavgirl]

do you enjoy being hurt? — r. cameron

a little self-indulgent bc why do the people in my life always act up when i'm already stressed over finals 🙃

❝ baby, i just don't get it do you enjoy being hurt? ❞

pairing: bsf!rafe x fem!reader

context: after another break up with your boyfriend, rafe finds you.

words: 1.3k+

warnings: reader's in a toxic relationship, overprotective!rafe, insecure!reader, a little fluff, angst

"y/n, what the hell?" rafe comes bursting through your bedroom door without warning, and you quickly wipe away the tears that have been caused by your boyfriend—or ex-boyfriend—who had just broken up with you. again. "i've been-"

the look of frustration on his face switches to one of concern in a single second, rushing to crouch down beside you sitting down on the floor, leaning back against your bed. "woah, woah, woah," he says, picking your face up in his hands and making you look at him. "why you crying?"

"it's nothing, rafe," you push his hands off your face and stand up to look at yourself in your vanity mirror. pieces of your hair were sticking to your cheek from dried up tears, and your eyes were bloodshot red and puffy.

"it's not nothing," he argues, looking at you through the mirror. "you're fucking crying, y/n! what happened?" his concern slowly morphs into anger, frustrated at the fact that you wouldn't tell him anything. "it was evan, wasn't it?" he spat, beginning to pace around your room in an attempt to calm himself down. 

"that fucking motherfucker," he muttered, not being able to stop the words that fall out of his mouth. "what'd he say or do now? fuck another bitch? tell you you're not hot enough for him? accuse you of cheating? i swear to god y/n, if-"

when he realizes that you've broken down again, tears flowing out of your eyes as you leaned your hands on the vanity and stared down at it, he stops and rushes to your side.

"i'm sorry," his voice is soft now, a hand gently coming across the small of your back as a sob fell from your mouth and tears continued to trail down your cheeks. "i didn't mean to— hey. hey," he turns you around, his big arms wrapping around you in a comforting hug.

your sobs and sniffles only double in amount, as you melt into him and cry against his chest. "why am i like this, rafe?"

"shhh, shhh," he caresses your hair with his hand and rests his chin on top of your head. "it's okay."

"no, it's not okay," you reply, wiping at your tears. "i know that, i just don't-"

"hey, hey, hey," rafe separates himself form you, just enough to cup your cheeks in his hands, thumbs wiping at your tears. "just tell me what happened, a'ight? can you do that?"

sniffling and wiping at your nose, you nod at him, and he pulls away so you can both move to sit on the bed.

you pull your knees close to you chest, while rafe waits for you to speak. "he broke up with me… again," you say. "told me i wasn't doing enough, that i didn't benefit him in anyway. that there were other girls who did more for him, who were better." you just stare at the ground, refusing to look at him, knowing that the second you did, you'd break again.

rafe brings a hand up to rub his chin, heat rising in chest as a scoff left his mouth. that motherfucker.

"do you think he's right?" when you finally let your watery eyes meet his, the band that kept him in control snapped.

"oh fuck no," he immediately stands from the bed and charges towards the door. "i'm gonna give that son of a bitch-"

you scramble to your feet and follow him, stopping right in front of him to keep him from going any further. "rafe, no," you say, placing a hand on his heaving chest. "you can't."

"fuck you mean, i can't?" he asks, fuming. "that idiot made you cry. and not only that, but he made you feel as if you weren't good enough for him. you can't just tell me something like that and expect me to-"

"please," you plead, eyes only on his. "if you say something to him, it's only gonna make it worse. i don't want him to-"

"to what?" rafe cuts you off, his muscles tensing. "has he laid a hand on you?"

"not on purpose," you mumbled.

"what?" rafe asks through gritted teeth.

"we were both really mad," you shrug, no longer meeting his eyes. "i got pissed that he just started saying all that shit to me so i told him to calm the fuck down and got in his way so…"

"so… what?" you could tell by the sound of his voice that the next words you spoke could either have him snap or keep it together.

"look, it doesn't even matter, alright?" you push past him and head back into your room.

"the fuck you mean it doesn't matter?" he immediately follows after you, gently grabbing your wrist to make you look at him. "hey, look at me. did he touch you?"

cowering under his strong gaze, you mumble quietly. "it was an accident."

seething, his posture straightens and his hand drops from your wrist. "i'll see you later."

he turns on his heel without letting you get another word in and walks out of your room.

against your better judgment, and afraid of what he might do, you follow him down the hall and down the stairs.

"rafe," you call after him, but he ignores you and proceeds towards the foyer. "rafe, wait."

you jog to catch up and walk ahead of him, stopping him in his tracks by placing a hand against his hard, heaving chest. "where are you going?"

"get out of my way, y/n," he tells you, refusing to have his angry eyes meet yours.

if you thought he would just stand by while you told him your boyfriend "accidentally" laid a hand on you, you obviously didn't know him at all.

"where are you going?" you repeat yourself, and he finally looks at you.

"where do you think i'm going?"

you shake your head at him, your shoulders going limp. "please don't."

"for fuck's sake," he mutters under his breath and turns away from you to run a frustrated hand across his buzzed head. "why are you defending him?"

you wince at the tone of his voice, and shrug. "i'm not. it’s just-“

“just what?” he stops pacing and closes the distance between the two of you, taking both your hands in his. “i mean seriously, y/n. why do you stay with him? help me understand.”

looking into his pleading eyes, you couldn’t do much more than shrug. “i don’t know.”

and it was true. maybe you’d gotten so used to the toxicity that it was normal to you now. how fucked up is that?

a scoff leaves his mouth as he glances down and fiddles with your fingers, but it wasn’t bitter or disappointed. you really couldn’t quite place it.

“i just… i’ve gotten so used to it,” you admit. “i don’t know anything else.”

“don’t you know you deserve better?” his eyes meet yours again, but they’re no longer angry or searching for answers. they’re just sad.

you’d be lying if you said it didn’t cross your mind. every time your “boyfriend” had broken up with you, you swore to yourself it was the last time. that you couldn’t let him keep treating you the way he did, because he’d only take advantage. but that was much easier said than done.

“i’m not perfect, rafe,” you shrug, tears threatening to line up against your bottom waterline. “and love isn’t either.”

“but it shouldn’t hurt,” he tells you. “i mean, is this what you really want for yourself? some guy who constantly belittles you and makes you feel as if you’re not enough for him?”

“but what if he’s right?” you ask, causing rafe’s heart to shatter a little. he couldn’t believe that you, of all people, could really buy into that shit. you’d always been so perfect in his eyes. “what if-“

“oh, doll,” he drops one of your hands to caress your cheek. “there are so many guys out there who’d kill to just get an hour of your time.”

you lean into his touch without even thinking about it. “you think so?”

“i know so,” he nods, thumb swiping under your eye to wipe a new tear away. “let him go.”

this isn't even the draft i was suppose to finish but fuck it, we ball. this was the one that my creative juices wanted to write. look out for that ex-bf!rafe smut soon tho 🌝

reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33

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@baniazxxx @hangmanscoming @lanabrock @kyleimd @buckylaststraw

[strawberrymochin]

Springtime Fushiguros♪

Context-: exploring the memories of childhood of fushiguros, marking the spring time of you and satoru gojo.

Period- tsumiki gets her first period. Gojo and Megumi panicking around.

Gojo streched himself on the couch, turning sides to get hold of the tv remote, switching it on, totally ignoring the pile of laundry he's supposed to get done.

Yawning to himself, he sits up straight. It's boring, enjoy a sunday alone, especially when you have gone out with shoko to help her out with some of her queries. He could have bothered megumi, annoying him would be a great time pass or maybe getting him practice some of the new moves he learned.

Or maybe he could have played with tsumiki, letting her tie his hair into pigtails, doll him up. Adore his skin with different cute holographic stickers and have a kitty party. And even rummaging through your closet, hosting a fashion show.

However, today none of the kids bothered to show their faces.

A rushed creak of door opening echoed through the apartment, above the sound of the television. Gojo turned his head to the side, to see megumi....with dread plastered face.

"What happened? Saw a ghost or something?" Gojo's lips curve into a smug smile, pleased to get an opportunity to tease megumi. Though it vanishes quickly when Megumi's expression doesn't seem to falter.

Megumi's steps are rushed towards his sensei, eyebrows knitted in a worried form.

"Tsumiki's bleeding." Said megumi, pointing his hand towards their room.

Gojo got still for a moment his eyes travelled to megumi's hands. They were trembling.

"What! Did you use you accidentally used your cursed energy on her?!" Gojo stood up hastily, walking up to the kids room, trying to locate tsumiki.

"No." Megumi followed him.

Gojo's eyes scanned around the entire room— tsumiki's nowhere.

Megumi dragged him to his sister's bed by his sleeve. As the bed came clear in view, among the tousled sheets of pink strawberry printed ones, sharp in contrast with plain whites of megumi's, there was a huge stain which seemed like fresh blood.

"She went to the bathroom hurriedly, and I saw her shorts had blood stains....what happened to her? Is she going to die?"

"Goddamn! Did she ate those cookies made by shoko?"

"Huh?! I did saw her having some this morning!!"

"Fuck! She must have been poisoned then....her cooking is disaster anyways"

"No doubt she's your friend."

"Wha—"

"What do we do now??"

"What do we do nowww???"

"I wouldn't have asked you, if I would've known what to do!!"

"No wait...i know....imma get an ambulance first and then," he halts midway before reaching hell for leather to get an ambulance, "wait a min....." He straddled his way back to miki's bed, bending down to scrutinize the stains properly.

"Ahh....I see...but she's only 9 years old..." Gojo mumbled to himself, tilting his head to the side, while megumi glares at him annoyed.

"Why aren't you hurrying? Go get an ambulance!!" To this gojo replies nothing but goes to the corner of the room, knocking on the bathroom door.

"Miki... it's me. Gojo sensei. Is your stomach hurting?" For moments it's complete silence, till gojo speaks again, voice more soft, this time, "Don't be afraid Miki, it's fine. Tell me. Open the door of you feel like."

After a few seconds of hushed silence, the door of the bathroom unlocked, creaking a bit, revealing a tear stained tsumiki, eyes puffy from crying, looking down.

"Is it hurting?" Gojo asks tsumiki, fists dragging the hem of the tshirt, trying to hide the stains nodding her head slowly.

"You're a grown up girl Miki! Congrats!" Gojo chimed as tsumiki, with eyes filled with fat tears threatening to fall, looked up at him. Gojo had the kindest smile on his face, as he forwarded his hand patting on Tsumiki's head. His little girl's blooming fast. Though he cherishes it, there's a pang in his chest. It's already been two years. Why does time flies so soon? Why can't its wings freeze? Why can't the blissful moment last forever?

Megumi's stands behind him totally dumbfounded.

"So Tsumiki's fine? And she won't die right?" Megumi asks frowning, however there was a little relief on his face.

"Ofcourse not idiot," gojo flicks megumi's forehead earning an 'ouch' from him, "Your sister is just growing up. She got her first period which is a 100% normal thing. And we don't need ambulance for that."

Tsumiki tilts her head at confusion. Period? She thought. Gojo continued, "what we need is, a—"

"What?" Megumi asks dubiously as gojo's face falls.

"Umm... I will just call y/n a bit..." He says, asking tsumiki to stay there till he returns. Megumi, however, uncertain of gojo's decisions follows him to the living room, where he picks up his phone dialing you.

Then, to his washroom checking in the cabinets. "I can't seem to find it."

"Find what?...just ask y/n san."

"As if she's picking up my calls...i will be back in a few minutes.....be with tsumiki till then.

Before Megumi could ask what he's exactly planning to do, he senses the flow of cursed energy as gojo's figure fades in a quick blink of eye. He teleported to somewhere leaving Megumi and tsumiki home alone.

By the time he's back, teleporting to the entrance, wanting to hurry up to tsumiki, he's greeted by shoko bumping midway.

"Woah! What the heck dude!!"

"What are you doing here?"

"Well I'm here, since your girlfriend brought me in. Damn what do you have in those?"

"Is y/n home?"

He rushes inside to see you caressing tsumiki on the couch as Megumi sits on the opposite one, reading a book.

"Toru— omg.....what do got in there?" You gasp at the two huge plastic bags. Before he could answer, shoko snatches the bags from him peaking inside.

"He got pads and tampons along with cramp medicines, chocolates and heat pack and oh— there's menstrual cups too."

"toru, it looks like you robbed an entire pharmacy!"

"I couldn't find any in the cabinets," gojo sighs joining you guys on the couch. "And i didn't knew what tsumiki would prefer, moreover you weren't picking up my calls. Are you fine now Miki?"

Tsumiki nods at him with a smile, as he ruffles her hair. "Now that you're home, I guess everything's fine."

"You handled it well too. And you too megumi, you really care for your sister even though you don't show it much." You compliment as tsumiki giggles seeing Megumi blush.

"Yeah I mean you gotta see who's he learning from!" Gojo says with his signature smirk, spreading his arms showing off his greatness.

Silence,

Awkward Silence,

More awkward silence.

"Whatever." You, Megumi and shoko say at the same time, as you shift your attention back to tsumiki. Megumi goes back to reading his book while shoko goes to the kitchen.

Later this evening, shoko bought a cake to celebrate tsumiki's first period. Gojo sang on the top of his voice as shoko lectured the fushiguros on how this is a thing every girl has to go through.

As the kids were busy with shoko, gojo excused himself to the kitchen, where you were pouring out hot chocolate for everyone.

"Want a sip in advance?"

"I would love to have that but—" gojo's voice wavered a bit.

"Hmm?" You looked at him from the side of your eye, wanting him to continue.

"Is it okay for a girl to get her period when she's 9? Those parenting books and those internet articles said that the average age is somewhere between 10 to 12..."

You smiled to yourself at his question, leaving no doubt that one day he will surely be a great father. Maybe he even sees himself as a father figure for the kids. How pure and innocent is he?

Being born so strong, he had such huge responsibilities over his shoulders, barely allowing him to have his childhood. Growing up devoid of affection, gojo knows how important phase it is, thus he tries his best providing for Megumi and tsumiki. Making sure, the kids won't face what he faced.

"Nah, its normal to get it a year earlier or so, it depends on the girl's body." You assure him. Gojo leaned on the counter next to you, gazing the kids with shoko.

"They are growing so fast, ain't they?" He sighs.

"They are...." You sigh, " you want the time to stop?"

"Would be itching for that to happen." Gojo chuckles lightly, as his crystal blue eyes met yours.

"I love you."

"I know you can't resist my charm."

"Shut up. And say it back."

"I love you too my dear villian, my wicked angel, my sweet nemesis, do you even know how cunningly you've stolen my heart, even though it was yours to belong with."

"God! satoru...shut up."

a/n- had to post again for a glitch. Please reblog or like if you feel so.

[oceantruffle]

hotline | LN4

Characters - reader x Lando Norris

Location - I know Miami doesn't have any mountains but here I just felt like it so just go with it lol

summary - after being up and celebrating the whole night, you and Lando see the sunrise together.

A/N - It would be so nice if I had uploaded it before three days but I was very sleep deprived and the fact that I was in the middle of a forest for 4 days. anyways happy reading ✨

[y/n - your name]

Third Person's POV -

"I was meant to fly but Zak just told me we fly tomorrow so I'm not going to sleep. I'm going all the way. I might have more than just a scratch on my nose tomorrow, so I don't care, but I'll enjoy my time. This only happens once when you're taking your first win. It's nice to do it here in Miami,"

This was enough for you to know that the night is going to be absolutely crazy and wild. And you were very sure that none of you were gonna board the flight in one piece.

You were beyond the clouds. This was a feeling that no one could describe in mere words. The absolute bliss on Lando's face was ethereal. You could watch just him for eternity as he soaked up the sun on the podium. You were smiling so hard for so long seeing him this happy and you didn't realised that until your cheeks started hurting.

'I DID IT!' he had said holding the trophy towards you when he got back to the driver's room.

'YES!!YES YOU FUCKING DID!!' you said as you hugged him over the shoulders.

After 6 hours of clubbing and celebrating this sweet win with your boyfriend you had decided to go to a mountain top, alone. Maybe it was the alcohol which made the decision. You were more sober than him though. It was stupid. But nevertheless here you were now, sitting in the peaceful silence of the forest.

His head was in your lap and he could barely open his eyes. The alcohol was very heavy on his eyes. You both were freezing. Maybe not him since he had a jacket on but you definitely were cold.

You let your hand run through his soft curly hairs. A little chirp above in the tree got your attention. The stars in the sky above you had been staring had started disappearing. The dreamy dark night was filling with beautiful hopeful sunlight. That's when you realised it was morning. So it did happen. You were very happy for Lando. There are many more to come but wining this first one was a different feeling.

Lando was kind off in a passed out state but he was still very active and he quickly jolts his head when he hears little sniffs. Your tears fell onto his forehead as looks up to you.

'y/n?' he asked worriedly.

and when you sobbed a little louder he quickly sits back up to face you. 

'Baby?' he frowns. He got worried and all the exhaustion & sleep deprivation wasn't helping him much.

'What why are you crying?' he managed to frame a question,

'I don't know!' you sobbed.

'hey?' he said, his large hands cupping your face.

'I'm proud of you Lan. I'm so proud of you!' you smiled as tears rolled down your cheeks.

'Come here.' he said pulling you in his arms.

'Stop crying.' he soothed you.

'Please stop crying! haven't you already cried enough?' he said, now his own voice had started to break.

'Y/n?' he chuckled.

You look up to him to see his face and you see tears threatening to leave his eyes.

'I'm sorry! we're in the middle of nowhere, you're hungover, our phones are dead and i'm crying!' you shivered a little as cool breeze passes through.

'I love you y/n' he says.

'You deserve this Lando, You deserve the world..' you smile at him teary eyed.

'Thank you love!' he says softly resting his forehead against yours.

He wiped off your tears and kisses you on the forehead. You snuggled into him once again and watched the sun as it rises from the horizon.

There were countless times when you were up all night partying and eventually pass out in the morning. But this. This morning had something different in it. It had the feeling of glory, the joy and celebrations. You wanted to stay like that forever, in his arms. It was perfect and it wasn't a dream.

__________________

[word count - 875]

not edited

[barleyo]

Daddy's Girl.

Step Dad! Leon Kennedy X F! Reader (smut)

A/N: Don't like? Don't read! Either way, READ THE TAGS. I'm starting to get pretty weird on this blog, so expect more stuff like this! A girl has to feed her fetishes, so feel free to tag along with me and enjoy what my sick little mind thinks up. Thanks for reading!

Tags: stepcest, step-dad/step-daughter relationship, cream pie, daddy issues, use of "baby girl" and "daddy's girl," daddy kink, oral sex (f receiving), swearing, infidelity, p in v, cream pie, unprotected sex, LARGE AGE GAP (legal), 2nd person POV

Word count: 2.1k

As far as your mother was concerned, your father was worth less than the sum of his parts. He was fleeting idea, a mere concept in both of your lives ever since you could remember. Sure, you remembered a few odd Christmases with a surplus of gifts, all tagged "from Daddy," and a few daddy-daughter dates here and there, but that wasn't enough to make up for his true absence. 

It wasn't a surprise when your mom eventually left him, scooping you up with her. Just you and her, and the rare postcard that your sperm-donor decided to ship off once a year or so. It was good enough then when it was just you two finding your way in the world, but it went downhill when your mom found a new boy toy. 

Leon.

He wasn't a bad guy, by any means. Wasn't pushy, didn't make you call him "dad" or try to impose his will onto you, but his presence made the absence of your real father that much more obvious. You tried to ignore him for the most part, letting your mom have her little relationship with him to tide her over. 

But then they got married. Leon became a more permanent fixture. That was no bueno. 

You toughened it out, being cordial with him until you finally hit that mark of independence: sweet, sweet 18! The big one-eight, your ticket to freedom! 

Everything was planned out for your big day. Mom and Leon made a cake, presents were given, and all birthday wishes granted, except for one. What you really wanted, was for your dad to show up for just this one day, just this once, to have him and not just his money. 

You could never get that lucky, though, and that thought was cemented in your head when you found yourself waiting for him outside of your house. The driveway was empty, not even your mom's car was out there, she still had to head off to work. The world couldn't pause for a birthday girl, it seemed.

Stepping back inside to the house, you slammed the door behind you, practically throwing yourself onto the leather couch in the living room. The tears started faster than you could contain them, and quite honestly, you didn't want to contain them. It was your party, damn it, and you would cry if you wanted to!

"You okay, kid? I heard the door-"

Fuck. Him.

Leon's heavy footsteps made their way down the stairs, leading to his place in front of you. "(Y/N), are you crying?"

You sucked back a breath of air, steadying yourself as much as you could before speaking. 

"No, 'm not, just-- go, just leave me alone." You let your face drop into your hands, staining your sleeves with tears.

Leon, being just the right amount of pushy, took a steps next to you a placed his hand on your shoulder. "Can we talk about it? I mean, I probably know what it is, but we could- you could say whatever you need to say." His face cringed a bit at his own words, feeling like he was already fucking this up. "No judgement."

You kept your face covered but obliged, knowing that talking about it, even with Leon, would make you feel a little better.

"My dad isn't here. He's been promising for weeks that he'd show, but he isn't here."

"Oh."

Your step-dad bit his lip trying to figure out how to make you feel better. He knew you weren't exactly fond of him, but he felt a twinge of responsibility.

"Fuck 'em," Leon finally decided on. "He's a liar and you don't need him. So, fuck 'em. Why would you want a deadbeat to bring you down on your special day?" 

"Because, he's my dad," you said, like it was the most obvious thing. He was right, of course, but the absence still hurt you.

"No dad would stand up a sweet girl like you on her birthday. You only turn 18 once. A real dad wouldn't miss a birthday this monumental for anything. What's he worth, if he can't keep to his word?"

"I guess nothing." You sat up straighter, trying to make yourself calm down. "D'ya think it's, like, my fault? Why doesn't he want to see me?"

He suddenly got really serious, making his grip on your shoulder firm.

"Not at all. You are a wonderful girl. Your mom thinks so, and so do I. You are brilliantly smart, kind, responsible, sweet, gorgeous-- you're perfect and if that scumbag can't see that, then he's beyond saving." 

He loosened his grip, letting his hand fall down to your lap, a bit close to the crotch of your jeans. You didn't look down, trying to convince yourself it was an accident, but he didn't move his hand either.

His other hand came up to your face, holding your cheek and to your own surprise, you leaned into his hand. His big, calloused, confronting hand.

Fuck him.

Something snapped in you when he leaned in for a kiss. God, it was wrong, so wrong, but you were so conflicted. Is this what a father's love really felt like? Hell if you knew, this was close enough in your book.

"Hmph-! Leon..." You pulled away from the kiss, wiping at your mouth roughly to get rid of the salvia strings connecting the both of you. "This is wrong, this isn't okay, my mom-"

"Is not here." 

He placed another kiss on your lips, this one chaste and sweet, so unlike the passionate one you shared before. 

"Just you and me. I know your dad isn't here, but I am. Let me make up for him, baby." His whispers pricked goosebumps over your body, lighting a fire deep in you. "Let daddy love you. Can I show you?"

His big hand looked nearly comical resting against the small button of your jeans, pawing desperately at them. So, so, so wrong. So fucked up, so not okay, so....

"Yes," you said breathily. "Okay, I-I want you to show me. Just be careful please, 'cause.." you trailed off a bit, feeling the pop of your pants opening. 

Leon yanked them down, tossing them away quickly. "Fuck, that's good," he said, pressing his tongue flatly on your mound through your panties. 

The fabric slowly grew a wet patch that clung to you, getting sticky. He placed a soft kiss on your clothed clit, then rested his head on your soft thigh.

"Anybody ever touch you here?" he asked, running a finger over your pussy. 

You softly shook your head, mumbling out a 'no.'

"Mm, more for daddy, yeah? Gonna make you feel so good," he said, slipping your panties to the slide. His mouth made quick work, tongue already gliding up and down on your clit. 

Your face was already twisting up in pleasure, eyebrows knitting together tightly.

"That's cute," he blew cool air over your cunt, keeping his eyes on your face. "You like it? My mouth all over you like this?"

"Mhm, please- don't stop. I wanna feel it again." 

You reached your hand out to hold his head, wanting to push it down before bringing your hand back nervously.

"That's right, push my head down if you want. 'M here to make you feel good, so you use me. Just a wet mouth for you today, sweet girl."

You nodded eagerly, running your hands through his blond hair and taking taking firm purchase of a section of it. Your hands greedily pushed his face into your cunt. The feeling of his nose rubbing against your clit while his tongue dug into your tight hole made you feel fuzzy inside.

Leon was so vulgar with his noises; he almost enjoyed it more than you were. Slurp after slurp came from his mouth, accompanied by a moan or two while he tried to get himself off by palming himself through his pants. 

The sight of him was just as good as the feeling of him. You had never been taken care of so thoroughly. Leon was opening a whole new world to you, a world where you could be selfish and take, because your daddy would provide, no questions asked.

"Lemme try somethin', yeah, baby?"

He shook your hand off and spat directly on your clit, spreading the fat glob with his fingers. Tight, fast circles were traced over your bud, back and forth. It felt like hypnosis, the way he reeled your body in closer to an orgasm. 

"Daddy, please, 'm gonna cum," you said, face flushing of all color. "Your mouth, want your mouth," you shot out quickly, already obsessed with the feeling of his hot mouth tonguing you down.

He obliged, of course. How could he turn his princess down? Leon's lips again wrapped around your clit, sucking on the bud like it gave him life. 

You came soon after. You seized and convulsed and the feeling of his eyes taking you in made the waves of pleasure crash down that much harder over your body. 

"If he knew what a sweet fucking pussy you had," Leon said, licking a final stripe over it, "he'd never wanna leave."

"Wha--?"

"I said," Leon pulled away from your pussy, lifting his head to your ear, "that even your dad would wanna be tongue deep in your sweet, tight cunt. But it's all mine, isn't it?"

The sound of his belt unbuckling made you wetter, if that was possible, but it also sent a sense of realization through you.

You had your pussy in your step dad's mouth. And you liked it. And now, you would let him fuck you. And you would love it. 

"I know you're a virgin, but fuck, baby, you're so tight." His voice was grumbly and strained while he tried to push into you. "Maybe I need to eat you up a little more," he teased.

"No, I need you inside, wanna feel it now." You let yourself go completely. Here you were, whining like a brat while Leon's fat cock stretched you. The pain with sharp, but immediately worth it. He fit inside perfectly, easily hitting your sensitive spots with a few thrusts.

He hissed, feeling you clamp down on his length. "Shh, come on, gotta get used to it baby. Don't want me to cum too quick, do you?"

"Yes, I do," you whined, desperate to know for certain that you were making him feel good too. 

Leon's laugh softly rang in your ears. "No, I wanna make it worth your time. Wish I could take you all night long," he muttered, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. 

He swallowed all of your moans, slipping his tongue into your mouth while he rocked into you. He tried to find a rhythm, but he was too lost in pleasure to be neat about it. 

He'd fuck you nice and orderly another day, but for now? He just wanted to feel you gush around him, and feel your cunt get sloppy while he took you.

Your breathless moans caught his attention. He found the angle that made you get oldest and stuck with it, lifting your hips up with his hands so he could piston into your g-spot.

"Oh my god, right there! That feels-- oh my god."

"I know, baby," he said, thumbs digging into your hipbones. "Feels good f'me too. You're so good for daddy."

Your heart, and cunt, pounded the more he spoke. You were close and you knew it, you just needed him to keep talking you through it. "I am?"

"Yes, baby, you're perfect. Daddy's perfect little princess, taking my cock so good." His cock twitched, so he clenched his jaw, refusing to cum before you did. "You know what good girls get to do?"

"Hmph?" Your face was red and hot, mouth hanging open while he continued to fuck into your spongey walls.

"They cum hard on daddy's cock. Can you do that for me? Cum all on me?" He traced his hand over your cheek, letting his thumb land on your bottom lip while he egged you on.

Your body had never reacted faster, immediately creaming on his length. Your hole milked him, each contraction gripping his length and sucking the cum right out of him. 

Leon let a shaky breath out before pulling out of you, scooping the mixture of your cum in his fingers. He rubbed it between two fingers for a moment and popped it into his mouth, groaning at the taste.

You came down from your own high and looked over at him, feeling guilt pull at your chest.

"Leon."

"Hm?"

"What about mom? She's gonna freak if she ever finds out. Did we fuck up? What's gonna--"

"Hey," he said, shushing you with his finger over your lips. "She's not gonna find out and she doesn't need to know. I might be married to her, and I get why you're stressed, but what we have is different."

He pulled his finger off of your mouth and pressed a kiss to your forehead cheekily. "You're daddy's girl. That makes you special."

[starlight-artbby]

Y'all the newest X-Men 97 episode blew me away. Like the animation ate down and it was just so good like I was thoroughly enjoying every second.

I knew that Scott was gonna hold some grudge against the professor and I don't blame him. He left his dream to his team and honestly failed him and damn did this episode remind him that over and over again. Especially Rogue who clearly was fed up with his ass. And I swear I was gonna cry when I saw her wearing Remy's coat and I had a tear nearly fall from my eye when Kurt looked so devastated to tell her again the Remy is dead like ugh I was in so much pain.

Speaking of pain Jubilee and Roberto. How dare they do this to me. I knew from a mile away that Roberto Was gonna go with Magneto (along with Rogue) and I completely understand why. His mother straight up abandon him and handed him to the people who wanted to kill him. Like of course he is gonna be pissed but when Jubilee said you still have me I felt like a part of me died because he walked away and that shit had to hurt.

Now I completely laughed when Magneto said the line about Lilandra. I can't remember exactly what he said but I do recall being gagged and gooped and not him telling Xavier to shut up like if those two don't just go to couples counseling...

Now I won't lie, Morph had me when he pretending to be Sinister so if I were Bastion I most certainly was gonna get caught. May I also express how I thought that Beast was going to get pieced through the chest during that fight sequence like I was on the edge of my toes.

Once again Sinister proved to me why I hate him so much. Having Jean fight her own son?!? Foul and then her contacting Cyclops to tell him that she loves him!!! Like why does X-Men 97 like hurting us? And if Storm or Forge ends up dead, I am most certainly fighting someone.

Now the new looks... Huh... Why did they have to put that cap on my boy Scott. And Jean she ate down with the boots but the gloves and the mask?!?! No mam. I loved Rogues outfit along with Logan's. They could've had morph in something a lot better. Kurt ate as usual and of course Jubilee ate up her look along with Storm. I couldn't tell if beast put on anything different so I can't say much about that but regardless, some of the team needed a better wardrobe.

Now I know some people will probably get mad at Rogue and Roberto for going with Magneto but honestly, Rogue was there on Genosha. It has messed her up so badly and we continue to see the side effects till this very episode. I already explained Roberto so I honestly am not mad at him but I am sad that he couldn't see that Jubilee was there for him just like sadly Rogue couldn't see that the team would be there for her but honestly, their feelings are still valid as fuck and I don't want to hear anyone else say other wise.

Also why did they have to do Wolverine like that!! Huh!!! Like y'all better have his regeneration ability kick in. I also feel so bad cause I know that nobody was expecting murder to occur up there that's for sure.

(also Scott stopping Xavier from forcing Magneto to return power was everything to me cause he did it for Jean and it's time he shows that woman some love.)

Also where is Bishop!?!?!

Now for the things I enjoyed. I loved the new opening. I was so happy to see Storm back in it again. It really made things start off well for the episode. I loved Rogue clocking Xavier and telling him exactly what she needed to say.

My favorite part of the episode though had to be when Jean and Storm had reunited and when they parted ways on the mission. Those two are sisters and I love the show for reminding us of their incredible bond I just lived to see it.

I also enjoyed Scott and Jean giving each other a hug before they parted ways and when Scott gave Nathan that advice I truly loved it. I am hoping that'll stop him from attacking Jean (possibly) if not, Jean will girlboss her way out of there.

I can't wait for the final episode (I hope I get Remy and Logan and anyone else who gets injured back) ♡♡♡♡

[042502]

☆༉ — CHRIS STURNIOLO. The unwritten rule.

about. Everyone knows the rule, don't fall in love with your best friend's boyfriend.

a/n. This is the Chapter 1, I hope it sounds interesting to you. My first language is not English, you will read this under this warning. m.list!

I liked him first, but it does not matter. I still like it, although that doesn't matter either or at least it's not supposed to.

Anna and Chris were kissing. Try not to pay attention, but when you're the only person in the room who's not with someone else, it's a hard thing to do. Besides, the movie Anna had chosen she had already seen.

More than once. 

Thirty-seven times, to be exact. 

I know it's a lot, but Anna really liked me, and it's better than what happens in my house, including services or news. and Not to mention the comedies from years ago. Dad's favorites, or mom's DVD's, made with images of her in different cooking competitions. Since he entered the "fabulous video cooking family", has been "studying" herself and other cooks via video, to see how she can "improve her prep work."

Yes, I have seen my mother chopping onions and then criticizing herself.

So you can see why I prefer to watch a movie and why, as of now, I'm on watch number thirty-seven of "boy meets girl," girl melts for the boy, boy falls in love with girl, boy gets cancer and dies while the girl is brave and only cries once, in the end, when the boy says, "I'll wait for you," and then dies.

I admit that I cried the first time I saw it. And the second. But by the third time, I started wondering about the girl's best friend, which appears at periodic intervals throughout the film to support the girl, usually providing ice cream and/or doing something stupid like hooking her skirt in the door and crying to get away.

Anyway, for the third time, I started wondering about the best friend. "Why does she have to be clumsy and absurd? Doesn't she get tired of showing support, and eating ice cream? Well, maybe not so much of the latter."

How does the best friend really live? She has to do something when she's not losing her skirt or saying: "Oh, you are so brave!" Until now, the best friend had been the substitute... At least in my mind: A secret heroin user. That was the week Chris called Anna to watch an Indian movie about the model who was skinny from heroin use and how everyone told her how beautiful she was until she died. I ended up going with them, because Anna said she wanted someone to talk to when the boring stuff hit.

But what I saw of the movie was great, I went back and watched it with my mom later. She said it was "depressing." But at least I could see the reality of the matter, she was: 

1. A spy (because hellooo, obviously she's awesome!).

2. A super heroine who is trying to save the world while maintaining her disguise as a mild-mannered clumsy girl (another obvious, but awesome point).

3. She is in love with the boy, they love each other behind his back, and they have secret meetings, when the girl is in one of her musical performances and the boy tells his best friend that he really loves her, but I don't want to hurt the girl, and the best friend agrees, because she is a really good person despite the fact that she is totally in love with her best friend's boyfriend.

This last one is, well, I try not to think about it, but I really do. I do it because I can see what happens in the movie, I mean, the best friend is a nice person. Actually, it is. 

She can't help because of the way she feels about the boy. She really can't. Trust me on this one. What could it be... Forget it. I am, I'm that girl who likes her friend's boyfriend. In the world of friendship, I'm horrible. Everyone knows this rule: "Never fall in love with your best friend's boyfriend."

I know, I do and I don't love Chris. He is Anna's boyfriend. She is crazy about him. If he moved his head a little, he could see them kissing. I know they're together, I know they're Anna and Chris now. 

I don't look at them, I don't need to remember that they are together and, besides, I know that if I look it will hurt a lot.

So I saw the movie. Maybe the best friend is a secret assassin from the future, and has come through time to make sure the evil scientist is stopped before he destroys humanity. 

Someone throws the sofa cushions on my head.

"Ada” What if I forget is what is going to happen next?

Anna laughs and makes me look back.

She smiles at me, her lips not next to Chris's any longer. 

"So, are you coming with us tonight or what?”

I pretend to stretch so I can look at the clock, it's only ten. It's also early to say I have to go home. I'm going to have to settle for a reason why I can't go with her.

"Can't. Mom wants me to get up at five in the morning to go shopping with her. She is doing further testing of how her recipes work in case she gets the call.”

"Why do they have to go?" Chris asks.

"My dad can't because of his hip, and she wants someone there to help her."

That is a lie, my mother doesn't need help when she is grocery shopping. She knows every grocery store within a fifty mile radius, like she knows the way to our house.

She knows where they produce and where they are stored to get the newest and best products, especially that stores are open late in case inspiration strikes you.

Mom is intensely and strongly focused on creating recipes. She enters cooking competitions all the time, and has always come in fourth place, which is kind of like the consolation prize in the kitchen. She says she's happy, but she's not.

Mom wants to win a contest finally. I know she does. She likes to cook, she likes to make recipes, but apparently she also enters each and every cooking competition there is. She keeps a very low profile, especially compared to some of the other "contestants" I've met, but I was there and it motivated her to keep going.

She's always felt that unity, I think. I mean, there's a reason I quickly learned to play "go fish" with dad and not with her when I was little I won at least a few times with dad. This year he sent them one and is now practicing twenty recipes to "cook with the fabulous family." This is a low number in the contested world, at least among fans, but Mom decided the key is to really focus on "a few dishes."

Dad and I have been eating for a while now because he wants to be ready for when my mom doesn't believe in "yes" when it comes to cooking competitions, she gets the call. Unfortunately all of this, and that's the problem with having a best friend who has known you since you were five. Twelve years of friendship means that Anna knows almost everything about me and my family. 

"She doesn't need you to go” Anna says. “She knows where everything is in every supermarket around here, and she never needs your help before shopping. She has a system and all that.”

But of course this doesn't help with the excuse at all.

"Maybe Ada doesn't want to go to the party" Chris says, looking at the framed photo of Anna that was hanging on the end of the wall. I took it last year, when I signed up for the photography course I thought it would be an easy "A". It was a tough "B", with a lot of bad photos on my part, but Anna's image is good.

She was sitting on the front steps, looking into the distance, and I was on the timer and running so fast that I accidentally managed to get into the engraving when I was running back to the camera to see if it was still working.

I messed up a little with the photo, but Anna almost shines in it, pushing from the blur that went after a ghostly glow.

“She wants to go,” Anna tells Chris, and then taps me with her foot. “I heard Rob might be there."

I shrug, Rob is in my English and chemistry classes, he's sweet.. He is also madly in love with Anna. However, unlike most boys who are madly in love with Anna, He knows he has no chance with her. So he's decided he loves me. Today at school he asked me if I was going to be at the party tonight, and I saw him start to ask Anna if she was coming too. She left me then I remembered that she has a boyfriend, I saw him reminding her that she was supposed to like me.

"Don't you think it's cute?" Anna asks me.

"He's fine" He is, he has eyes, a nose and a mouth and his hair doesn't look like it was cut by a lawn mower. His clothes aren't horrible, he doesn't smell or spit when he talks.

"Therefore, come with us. There's always room in Chris's car, I know. The whole school could fit in your car, which is fine! Brilliant!” She sets her eyes on me.

I smile, because there is always room in Chris's car. He drives a van, and Anna hates it. She wants Chris to get his parents a new car, and since then they started dating a little more six weeks ago.

"I like my car" this time Chris speaks.

I allow myself to look at him for a few seconds, taking a look at his dark hair, his bright, intense eyes.

"I can't go" they both look at me. “I mean, I can, but I'm really tired and I have to eat cheese cereal and corn and rice casserole for dinner again and my stomach hurts, I mean, it's the fourth night in a row I've had to eat it, so I'd rather go home.”

"Please," Anna asks.

"I'm too full of corn and rice to do anything fun."

"You're full, good" He shakes his head in denial and then lets out a sigh. “Alright, go home. You leave me and Chris and I go to the party.”

"Go have fun."

"We will" is coming. “I like it if you're there, I always like it if you're there,” he looked at Chris again, a quick glance one last time before I left.

He looks at me, for a second, a crazy second.

I stand up and smiled saying goodbye and good night. I walk to my car, thinking about what it will be like to sit next to him.

જ⁀➴ taglis. @l34n @jetaimevous @jnkvivi @loveyoumatthewbernard @d1tzy-bl0nde @laxbabe131147 @slut4chriss @dontellaf1lms @surniolozzzprincess

a.n. If you want to be part of the taglist leave a comment below and I will add you. Thanks for reading, remember to like, share with your friends and leave a nice comment ^^

[cameronspecial]

I wanted to ask if you could write something with rafe where reader does selfharm and he finds out? Maybe with a soft version of rafe

Not Going Anywhere

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: SELF-HARM and Talks of DEPRESSION (Please don't read if these are a trigger).

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.1K

A/N: If you or anyone you know are experiencing depression, then please know you are not alone and there are people who can help. The internet has information on the best places for you to go to in your country. Not tagging anyone just in case this is a trigger for anyone on my tag list.

Masterlist

It isn’t for attention. That is one assumption most people make whenever they see the scars. It’s the reason why she hides them on her hips. She doesn’t have to worry about anyone seeing it because no one sees her naked, not even her boyfriend. The only times the marks see the light of day are when she changes or showers. She makes sure the cuts made can be hidden by her underwear and any panties or bikini bottoms she buys need to pass that test as well. 

No matter how wrong she knows it is, she can’t help but hold the cold sharp blade against the tough skin. It is resting on top of a barely healing scar because she has no other place for it. Her breath hitches as she pulls the Exacto knife across her, going a little farther than the mark already made. Tears are running down her face. Her eyes blur as she repeats the motion below the blooming red line. Her breath is uneven and hitches every time the metal touches her skin. In some sick way, the pain gives her a small relief. It gives her a reason.

Most people wonder why someone would cause harm to themselves. They would guess that the despair is caused by a lack of food, shelter, money, clothes or love. However, Y/N doesn’t have that issue. How could she when she is a kook? No, she has never felt hunger or fear and that is the cause of the turmoil inside of her head. Nonetheless, ever since she entered teenhood, she would experience these months-long periods of extreme sadness. She would do her best to hide them from everyone by pushing herself to get out of bed and go to activities that she would normally enjoy. She would make sure to cry when no one else was at home and to track her family members’ phones to verify she was alone. It was a secret she kept so deep within her that she started to question why she felt this way. That is when the true problems began. She felt guilty for feeling this despair without a reason and it was furthered by the secrets she had to keep, so she began to self-harm as her reason. In her brain, partly because of what society has told her, she needed a reason for why she was melancholy because there are people in the world who were dealt much tougher times in life. 

So, that is how she finds herself standing in front of the mirror, holding down the right side of her underwear and dragging an Exacto knife along her skin. She has fallen into one of her episodes and this time, it is the worst one to date. She has never pressed so hard into her skin with the blade. It has never bled this much. She curses as the blood begins to seep into the cotton of her underwear. Her attention is on stopping the red from staining her clothes, so she doesn’t hear the front door open. 

Rafe whistles whilst he uses his copy of the key to open Y/N’s front door. People thought it was too early when they exchanged house keys after only six months of dating. They didn’t though. It felt like the next step when she told him that she was saving herself for marriage. They found a different way to reach a new level of intimacy and it worked for them. Her house is eerily quiet and dark. Normally, she keeps the hallway lights on when she is home and if she is watching TV/listening to music, it is so loud that it could make a deaf person hear. He doesn’t let the lack of normality stop him from making his way to her bedroom, thinking nothing that her door is closed. He uses the doorknob to push it open and he is surprised to see her standing in front of the mirror with her hands pressing against her hip. It takes him a second to process that blood stains her hand. His shock turns to worry as he rushes to her side. He trips over something in his attempt to get to her and looks down to see a bloody Exacto knife, like the kind she uses to cut things for her art. He kicks it away and removes her hand from her side. He curses at the amount of blood. This needs stitches. 

“My love, what happened?” he asks, hoping the theory he has isn’t true. He sees the tears running down her face and the way her mouth opens and closes. She has no idea how to answer. The hiccups of her crying make it even harder. Instead of waiting for an answer, Rafe washes his hands and gets the first aid kit in her bathroom. He uses the bandage wrap inside it to catch the blood, instructing her to use it to apply pressure whilst he guides her to his car. The drive to the hospital is silent. 

———

Y/N told the medical practitioner the truth as to how she got the cuts and scars. She couldn’t lie with Rafe in the room. He had offered to step out, except she asked him to stay. She was tired of lying. It only added to her exhaustion. Y/N didn’t have to say much before the doctor excused herself to get a hospital psychiatrist. Rafe said nothing as she described the anguish she felt. He felt a sharp stab to his heart at every word she said, criticizing himself for not seeing the mental pain his girlfriend was in. 

With the doctor gone, he speaks up. “Is there anything I can do right now that can help you feel more comfortable?” She appreciates that he doesn’t assume that there is an easy fix to this or that at the moment there is something quick he can do to make her feel better. His focus on her comfort causes a flutter in her stomach. She nods, “Can you just hold me?” He joins her on the hospital bed and pulls her to his side. The buzz of the lights is the sole thing that can be heard for a while. “This isn’t your fault,” she clarifies, concerned that he might think it. He kisses her temple, “I know. Thank you for trusting me enough to be in the room when you told the doctor what happened. This isn’t your fault either and you are so brave for asking for help. If you want, I will be here to help you every step of the way.” A different kind of relief comes over her. She feels a glimmer of hope that she doesn’t have to do this alone. “I want you here,” she whispers, pressing her face into his side. “Then I’m not going anywhere.”

[aidenlydia]

hey ho!! the 09 simon sh anon here (what a weird title. anyways) first of all, thank you for replying! didn't know you hc simon as autistic, which makes him, in a way, even more relatable to me <33

i have another question, this time about simons and johnnys relationship. you mentioned that johnny helps simon cope, especially with his aggression / sh. do you have any specific headcanons how simon does that? do they have any specific rituals for when simon starts struggling? and also, the other way around, when johnny starts struggling with his OCD and depression?

cw: self-harm

Oh boy do I have a lot of thoughts about this. But first some definitions for those who are unfamiliar:

Autistic Meltdown - a intense response to overwhelming stress or dysregulation, leading to loss of control over behavior and difficulty calming down. Common signs include crying, yelling, rocking, pacing, dissociating, intense stimming and aggressive or self-injurious behavior (hitting, biting, kicking).

Shutdown - a form of meltdown where a person becomes extremely still, silent and withdrawn rather than outwardly aggressive.

Stimming - repetition of certain physical movements or vocalizations that autistic people use to calm themselves down or express their feelings.

Intrusive thoughts - unwanted thoughts that pop into one's mind without warning, at any time. They're often repetitive and can be disturbing or distressing.

Obsessions - intrusive thoughts that are hard to manage, get stuck in one's head and have a negative impact on daily life.

Compulsions - repetitive things one feels they have to do (mentally or physically) in order to reduce distress and anxiety caused by obsessions (to make things feel right again). One might know that it doesn't make sense to carry out a compulsion, but is unable to resist doing it.

I think the first step is being patient and not judging each other.

The way Ghost feels during and after a meltdown is complete loss of control, accompanied by shame. That's why SH is so easy to fall back to. It re-establishes some sense of control, which can be both a relief and a punishment at the same time.

Similarly with MacTavish, when his intrusive thoughts get the better of him and he starts spinning his wheels (getting stuck in compulsions and increasingly agitated) he knows he's both out of control and unable to stop it while probably being judged if witnessed.

It boils down to not being understood and feeling like everyone thinks you're crazy. Your self-esteem and sense of belonging take a massive hit. But having someone witness you at such a low point and support you through it, without thinking less of you afterwards, already makes a huge difference.

I don't think MacTavish knows he has OCD, he's probably only aware of the stereotype (obsession with being clean and organized) and thinks of his own symptoms as "a weakness" he needs to hide and overcome by sheer willpower to be able to keep his job and the respect of his colleagues.

Ghost isn't blind to it, he notices a lot of MacTavish's quirks and insecurities that others don't. He takes them seriously, wants to understand and help.

Part of MacTavish's depression is connected to his OCD - it makes him very anxious and tired. If anything goes wrong his depressed mind will find a way to blame himself and his compulsions get worse in response to his new intrusive thoughts/obsessions. Anything can become an obsession and the excessive misery caused by it makes him feel even more depressed. And on it goes.

At first Ghost falls into the trap of wanting to help and relieve MacTavish of some of his distress by accommodating one or more of his compulsions - it seems to make him feel better. However the more you give into compulsions, the stronger they get and end up making the symptoms worse in the long run.

The key to truly support MacTavish is to help him resist his compulsions. Ghost learns firsthand that endorsing the behaviors does more harm than good, including giving reassurance, which is a common symptom of OCD (and the most heartbreaking for both parties. It feels like a rejection to MacTavish and Ghost feels so mean for doing it, but it is for MacTavish's own good).

You can read more about it here: If You Love Someone With OCD, You May Need to Stop Reassuring Them That Everything Is OK

Of course Ghost can still validate his feelings, recognizing how upset it makes MacTavish and remind him to be patient and compassionate with himself while also staying consistent in his encouragement to keep resisting. Instead of trying to make the distress go away, Ghost helps him to accept it and ride it out together. Sometimes while in the thick of it they resort to distraction (doing something else to take his mind off it, which isn't exactly the best go-to coping skill) and physical affection (for emotional support). During a crisis situation Ghost will usually fold and let him give into a compulsion, he still has to learn how to deal with those.

Another thing that helps MacTavish a lot is when Ghost starts telling him about some of his own intrusive thoughts (everyone can have them). It makes him feel less alone/more normal, helps him open up more about his worries and reaffirms his belief that Ghost doesn't think he's crazy or a bad person. Remember, he doesn't know he has OCD yet.

I'm not sure Ghost would know or even suspect he has Autism either, autistic afab kids don't fit the "typical" stereotype and are often overlooked. He probably got called weird and off-putting his entire life, as well as being bullied without even realizing it. He only knows he isn't like the others and prefers to be alone because everyone understands the world and communication in a way he just doesn't.

He embraces his weirdness instead of hiding it, doesn't care if people think his mask is corny or that they should keep their distance from a freak like him. He's tired of not being understood, so he isolates himself and doesn't try to change anyone's mind anymore.

Nobody really gets him until MacTavish. He tends to leave a negative first impression; being perceived as rude, aggressive and disrespectful because of missed social cues. His meltdowns are mistaken for childish tantrums or manipulation. MacTavish can tell he's definitely odd, but he appreciates Ghost's straightforwardness and blunt honesty instead of being offended by it. Ghost responds well to MacTavish because he needs very clear and direct communication without it being condescending and patronizing, which MacTavish is naturally very good at. No mind games, no reading between the lines.

It's also why Ghost doesn't mind taking his mask off in front of him, not only does he trust MacTavish enough to be vulnerable, but he doesn't fear being off-putting or having his facial expressions (or lack thereof) misunderstood. They are similar in that regard, MacTavish has resting angry face and is often mistaken as aggressive, intimidating or confrontational because of it. Ghost sees there's a much more sensitive and thoughtful man underneath the hard exterior.

MacTavish doesn't have much experience with meltdowns, but can tell Ghost isn't escalating on purpose. It starts with Ghost showing signs of anxiety - pacing, rocking or becoming very still and quiet. He tries to calm himself down by fidgeting/stimming, bouncing his leg, grinding his teeth or biting at his lip. Sometimes he will ask repetitive questions, seeking reassurance, or become increasingly nonverbal. He is easily frustrated and has difficulty communicating or expressing himself clearly.

Meltdowns can be triggered by many things at once, a mix of distress intolerance, emotional regulation issues and sensory overloads. Meaning lack of sleep, stress, too many unexpressed emotions, change in routine/big life changes, too much noise, being touched too much, bright lights (that's why he wears sunglasses), too much smell, not getting enough air, ect. It can be completely overwhelming.

MacTavish responds by staying calm and quiet, not talking over Ghost and moving slowly. Any additional stimulus makes the overload worse. He gives Ghost space, doesn't touch him without permission and never punishes him for "losing it" during his meltdown or afterwards. He gets Ghost into a safe, quiet room or place until it's over. Things that help Ghost calm down is silence, a cold compress on his forehead, noise canceling headphones, laying down with the lights out and MacTavish's entire weight laid on top of him or something cold to drink.

After meltdowns Ghost feels exhausted and either needs some time alone to recharge or becomes very clingy for a while. He often doesn't remember what exactly happened and is very self-critical, but MacTavish won't allow him to be ashamed of himself or engage in his typical SH behavior, opting for calming affection and distraction instead.

If Ghost's urge to SH is coming from a place of anger they tear paper in little pieces together, go for a run or exercise. If it's from sadness they hold each other, listen to music, let MacTavish massage him or get out into nature. If it's from feeling numb, he's allowed to flick an elastic band on his wrists or hold ice cubes.

To prevent a meltdown or SH the trigger needs to be recognized early enough to be either removed in time or given a coping strategy. They develop a code sign for Ghost to use when he feels unstable, so MacTavish can help him regulate or get him away to somewhere quiet where they can properly communicate. The more Ghost trusts him, the easier it is for Ghost to communicate and disclose his distress. When Ghost becomes nonverbal they either write or speak in sign language to navigate the situation.

After leaving the military they struggle more with their relationship and gain a deeper understanding of each other by finally getting diagnosed. They end up going to therapy together where they learn how to properly manage MacTavish's compulsions and get him treatment for depression. They develop relationship strategies and identify Ghost's meltdown and SH triggers as well.

I think this is a good place to stop for now. Perhaps one day I'll get into my DID Ghost headcanon/ideas, but my fingers hurt from typing so it will have to wait lmao

This is a continuation from a previous post

[stateswscarlet]

hi scar! this isn't a success story per se but more a realization that i've finally come to the point where i literally don't give a rats ass about the 3d. i found out something about my sp that normally would absolutely destroy me but i literally just have no reaction. like i cried for maybe 5 min and then i was like....why am i crying lmao?????? i already decided it's mine, this 3d circumstance literally has NO control over my decision. like it's actually such a crazy feeling, i felt all of my anxiety immediately drain away. i enjoy this feeling of knowing that what i want is already mine more than i could enjoy a 3d "comforming" (i hate that term but you know what i mean). i guess im realizing as i type this that this IS a success story because isn't this literally the definition of changing self ? i just felt the need to share this because it's genuinely one of the greatest, most fulfilling feelings and realizations ive ever had. i struggled before with enjoying my imagination because i would immediately go "but the 3d..." every time and not allowing myself to enjoy it. i spent a lot of nights struggling to sleep and ruminating over "shitty" circumstances - now i realize im the one who decides it's shitty and nothing FEELS shitty anymore. i can think about the circumstances and IMMEDIATELY feel the relief of my desire being mine. sorry for the long message, this is just really nuts and such an intense feeling.

YAYY i love this!! Thank you for sharinggg

[rudytubooty2107]

(Short Story) Chapter 1: The End of the Beginning

When they say your whole life flashes right before your eyes in the very moment before you die, I always thought it was nothing more than a load of bullshit. And yet, here I am now seeing everything I once thought as nothing more than a man's thoughts filled with nothing more than regret and superstition seeing it all unfold before my very eyes.

There I am, as just a child witnessing the end of the life of my father ebbing away at my feet by my very own hands. My father had abused my mother every day just because he felt like it. And every time she lost consciousness, he would take the rest of his rage out on me, a 7-year-old boy who was nothing more than skin and bone. He never feed us, he took all of that food for himself, and only gave me and mother enough to barely survive. Some time I wasn't sure why he even bothered. Maybe due to guilt, or maybe because he truly did love us. Who can really tell? He worked a shitty job with shitty pay living in a shitty small studio sized apartment. I can understand his feelings in a sense. No one would want to have to live their lives like that. But it gives no right to take his woes out on me, or her.

One day he took things too far. He had just got laid off of his job. Not much of surprise. He was always late to work because he was always up all night drinking until he passed out anywhere, he felt comfortable. But when he came home, it was like looking at a volcano ready to blow at any point. With no hesitation, he lunged at my mother like a man possessed by nothing more than his pure rage. Nothing was held back. I thought he had already put all of his strength into her before, but nothing could compare to what I was witnessing. I felt so helpless seeing all of this happening, feeling as though I could do nothing but watch it all unfold. It was as if I knew what was going to happen. I knew that it was going to be the last time I saw my mother. It was going to be the last time my mother draws her last breath.

Without any thought, I yelled. I don't what I yelled, maybe I just shouted at the top of my lungs. I had to do something, if nothing else, I could at the very least do that. All he did was stop for a second to look me in the eye. As if to tell me through his eyes that I was next right after her. As he went right back into beating my mother, I felt something I never felt before. I felt something gnawing at my inners, trying to claw its way out of me. I felt as though if I didn't let the beast out of me, it would eat from in the inside out. I howled to the top of my lungs, running at him like a wild animal ready to hunt, not for food but for the thrill of the kill. He easily threw me at the wall in the kitchen. As I came back to my feet I saw a knife next to me. Without hesitation I grabbed the knife hurling myself back at him stabbing him without fail. Stabbing him in the back, clawing out his eyes, cutting away at his stomach, pulling out his guts. I knew exactly what I was doing, and I didn't care. His death meant nothing to me. All it did was stain my clothes and skin red as he laid there dead on the floor bleeding out. And yet, I still felt sad. I'm still not sure why to this very day. But one thing for certain, I did all of this for her, for my mother.

And do you know what she did? She looked at me with nothing less than fear. And to make matters worse she said I killed the only man she ever loved, crying as she laid her head on his dead body. I was in shock to see how all that I did, was for her, and yet she hated me for it. Once I dropped the knife as I fell to my knees in shock at this revelation. My own mother, who loved and adored, took that same knife and stabbed me in the eye trying to kill me. She slipped from the blood on the flood from father breaking her ankle. She cried in agony crawling backwards to my father's side.

Once again, I felt something gnawing at my insides. But this felt different than it did before. Instead of feeling a raging beast, I felt something else. Something that I wouldn't understand until later on in my life. I grabbed the knife that once stabbed eye, the same knife that I used to kill my father, walking up to my mother slowly. As I looked into her eyes, I could see them filled with fear, and yet I felt absolutely nothing, nothing at all. So, I slit her throat, and then stabbed myself in the stomach, as I felt as though I couldn't live the rest of my life.

And yet I awoke cleaned of all the blood I was covered in now rapped in bandages with an old scary man standing over me missing an eye just like me. Asking me if I wanted to live, I could only think of one thing. It was the only good thing I think my father taught me from watching him everyday.

"Go fuck yourself."

So, he punched me in my only good eye, and so my new life began as the only thing I, and even this old man, knew I'd be good at, a killer.

[lolahaurisfw]

: ̗̀➛ Sebastian: Fluff Alphabet

A/N: Repost from old account.

A = Admiration (what do they absolutely adore about you?)

He loves that you accept him for who he is. You respect his work, his social boundaries, and you don't try to change him or force him out of his comfort zone.

B = Body (what is their favorite part of your body?)

Hips and waist! Thick or thin, he just loves holding onto yours hips, or putting his arms around your waist. 

Hugs from behind >>>

C = Cuddling (how do they like to cuddle?)

Big spooning you, he loves to hold you like a teddy bear :)

Also loves it when you lay your head on his chest and hold him, or just fully lay on top of him. The pressure is calming.

The best cuddles are when it’s raining. He may love going out in the rain, but he loves cuddling in bed and listening to it hit the window more.

So he’d beg you to take the day off and be lazy with him, probably trying to persuade you with a cup of coco and your favorite sitcom.

D = Dates (what does their ideal date with you look like?)

Dancing in the rain with you… omg

Imagine meeting him in the Cindersap forest on a stormy morning.

He pulls you under a patch of trees, distant enough that the rain is still hitting you, but close enough that you aren't getting completely soaked.

He looks (down/up) at you, locking eyes and smiling, his cheeks getting a little pink.

He wraps an arm around your waist and brings your hand into an embrace with his free one. Lacing your fingers together at shoulder level, doing a classic ballroom dance.

You both spend some time just spinning around in the soaked grass, laughing and kissing each other like nothing in the world has ever existed besides the two of you. <3

E = Emotions (how do they express emotion around you?)

Very pessimistic and emotionally reserved at first. He'd let you know if he was upset and why, but he wouldn't really bother trying to talk it out or find a solution.

But the more serious your relationship became, he was willing to open up to you more, see things on the bright side sometimes, let you help him and be his shoulder to cry on.

F = Family (do they want one? If they do, when?)

I don't think he would, he'd rather focus on you.

And some occasional traveling.

Kids are stressful and cause a lot of anxiety, not something he'd ever find appealing.

G = Gifts (how do they feel about gift giving? What are their habits when it comes to this?)

Not his strong suit, or preferred love language, but he’s fine with it.

He’s a minimalist decorator, so for receiving gifts, i think he’d prefer food or items that don’t take a lot of space/have a good use.

Like clothes, video games, nail polish, eyeliner, decorations for his frog vivarium, etc...

H = Holding Hands (when/how do they like to hold hands?)

Holding your hand under the pillow while he big-spoons you! >>

He's more of a full on cuddler than just a hand-holder. But yeah, he loves to lace your fingers together while lying in bed.

I = Injury (how would they act if you got hurt?)

Inside he's freaking out BAD and already feeling sick.

But on the outside, he tries to stay normal and calm so he doesn't worry you.

If you're really badly injured, he'll pick you up right away and bring you to Harvey.

Sits by the hospital bed the entire time and holds your hand. <3

J = Jokes (do they like to joke around with or prank you? how?)

Def not a prankster, I feel like Abi and Sam are the prankster types, so he's grown to be very annoyed with it lol.

He has a more sarcastic, quick wit sense of humor.

K = Kisses (how do they like to kiss you?)

Neck kisses!! He thinks they're really hot, and likes seeing you get flustered by them.

Cheek and lip kisses tie for second. Cute n sweet.

Bunny kisses!!! omg!

L = Love (how do they show you they love you?)

Quality time and acts of service.

Quality time may not sound right because he always talks about how he likes a lot of alone time. But that's exactly why I think it is one of his major love languages.

You two have a deep, special, unique connection. And that translates to him actually wanting to spend lots of time with you, unlike his friends and family.

And acts of service just because it feels like the opposite of words of affirmation (showing vs telling).

And since he's def not much of a talker, he likes to tell you he loves you with actions.

Like: feeding the pets, cleaning up around the house & farm while your gone, grocery shopping or cooking when you're too busy, etc...

M = Memory (favorite memory together?)

The night you met him on the dock while it was raining.

It's an uneventful memory, but it was the day his feelings for you were solidified.

He loves looking back on how intimate the moment was, just talking and joking and getting to know each other more.

N = Nightmare (what is their worst fear?)

Waking up to divorce papers on the table...

I think it would (obviously) completely destroy him, make him lose any hope on love, leaving the valley, moving from his family...

The last thing he'd ever want to do is to go back to being a depressed introvert who lives in his mothers basement.

O = Oddity (what is one quirk they have?)

His frog obsession, ofc. 

Totally rambles about frogs and general amphibian facts.

Super cute though.

P = Pet Names (what do they like to call you?)

Babe, baby, beautiful, ducky, bunny. 

Tadpole (tell me i’m wrong).

Q = Quality Time (how do they like to spend time with you?)

Sitting in his lap while he works! >>

Being lazy around the house and just cuddling n talking to each other.

He LOVES listening to you talk.

His favorite thing though: rides out of town on his motorcycle. Maybe having a picnic on the cliff once you get there!

R = Rhythm (what song reminds you of them?)

Молчат Дома - Клетка

Cigarettes After Sex - Apocalypse 

Cage The Elephant - Come A Little Closer

Galaxie 500 - Strange

Heavy on Молчат Дома tho. If he were 18-25 in the 2020's, he'd soo be a Russian doomer music enjoyer.

S = Secrets (how open are they with you?)

Completely open, I don't think he'd really have any secrets anyway?

He trusts you completely.

T = Time (how long did it take you to get together?)

That completely depends on you. He would genuinely be too nervous to ever tell you if he had a crush on you.

He’d drop hints, and you could probably easily tell by his body language and attitude change when you’re around, but he’d never be too bold or say it outright just incase you didn’t like him. 

Kinda unrelated but your dynamic would def be “you fell first, he fell harder.”

U = Upset (how do they act when you’re upset?)

A little awkward at first, but he tries his best. He gets better at knowing how to comfort you the longer you’re together. 

V = Vaunt (what are they proud of? Do they like to show you off?)

His programming talents! He loves telling you about it.

W = Warrior (how do they feel about you fighting? Would they fight for you, beside you, etc?)

He's a little nervous about you going in the mines and fighting, but he trusts that you know what you're doing.

He probably wouldn't fight with you though. (unless it was to save you ofc)

He just doesn't have it in him to kill something.

X = X-Ray (how well are they able to read you?)

Actually very well.

Since he's more a listener and observer, he's obviously picked up quickly on how to read you.

Y = Yes (how would they propose to you?)

Absolutely takes you to the cliff where you shared your first kiss.

Takes you completely by surprise too, drops exactly 0 hints beforehand that he was about to propose.

Definitely cries when you say yes ahhhh!!

Picks you up and spins you around while kissing you all over.

Z = Zen (what makes them feel calm?)

Night walks, watching his frogs in their vivarium, running errands in the morning, a cigarette after a stressful day, Friday nights at the saloon with Sam & Abi, listening to the radio while he works, sitting alone at the end of the dock, motorcycle rides, daydreaming before bed, morning showers with you, cuddling while a record or tv show plays in the background.

[dragon-tamer-1]

I'm bout to go to sleep, but just want to say that I'm just very happy to have people be that sweet to me earlier today. @bluepallilworld, @eve416, and @shinechermont, you're all just some of the sweetest people I've ever met on here, and I'm glad to have you as friends.

[hoppipolla]

DA YEOL & TAE HYUN + touch

[brown-little-robin]

あ

[radmista]

Sowing seeds of discontent and disharmony by hanging up on my parents birthday phone call the second my mom asked if I gained weight. Hope that sits badly on their minds while they think about how that's the first call I've engaged with them in 2 months and it was for the dogs birthday. Dad scrambling to text me for my mom that she didn't mean it. Like fuck I told her I've been having a rough month and day. She couldn't keep it to herself that badly. Fucks sake

[balkanballad]

had a day that made me think oh that was a bit heavy on the symbolism, wasn't it