#internalized shame and actually make them what they think that they are

[everyurlithinkofistoolong]

When ST fans interpret every antagonistic character to be a child molester for some reason

[the-lark-ascending69]

Lumity is very cute but it seems like the kind of ship that would have a fandom so toxic it'd make you dislike the ship in time and I think that's sad.

[starlooove]

Always will fill me with rage when white Ppl make hcs or fics about their white faves saving Duke cass or Damian from racism (or cass saving herself with a punch and no genuine emotion about it bc she’s a Girlboss 😝 😆) and then they demonize Damian 24/7 only say ‘Duke is on day shift’ in their fics or literally have cass as some walking talking fighting doll that teases her brothers sometimes. Like it’s genuinely y’all don’t think it’s racism unless it’s a slur. Can’t tell me what internal or implicit bias or even what a microagression is and u wanna talk on racism.

[end-orfino]

i feel like it's such a cruel joke from God that everything that makes me better also makes me feel worse.

[monamipencil]

an ode to mingyu's tiddies

genre; smut, mdni <3 | warnings; mingyu's tits, reader is OBSESSED with his tits, reader has existential crisis throughout the entire fic, perverted thots, a mention of magic mingyu, mentions of food, mentions of fever (she's just horny af), mentions of public indecency, dry humping, tits sucking (m. receiving), face sitting, oral (f. receiving), mingyu is a shameless thot. | a/n; here she is. fought demons writing this. hope you guys like it!

you’re obsessed. to say the least. 

the first time you actually noticed them was quite early into the relationship. he pulled you into a bone-crushing hug, effectively smushing your face against his chest. and you honestly didn’t mind dying like that, squished in between his pecs. nonetheless, something was awakened inside you that day. 

and it doesn’t really help that mingyu loves flexing his muscles. his chest is one of his best assets that he shows off. especially to you. goddamn him and his damn tight-fitting tank tops. you can’t help but watch with an ajar mouth as he works out, his chest pushing out under strain. oh, how you would love to fondl- “take a picture. it lasts longer.” he smirks at you, leaving you flustered and embarrassed.  

mingyu also notices the way you stare, or should he say, where you stare. pride swells in his heart each time you glance at his muscles. and well, he loves the attention. so he does what he does. he flusters you every chance he gets. with his tits.

he foregoes his shirt in bed. every. single. time. the first time it happened was not long after your epiphany. you didn’t pay much mind to it since it was after sex. but then, it became a routine. cuddling to sleep meant having his tits pushed up against your face or back. and, in some cases, you get to fondle them as you spoon him. 

and you know what? scratch that. he’s entirely shirtless around you. all the time. might as well get naked and start living in nature at this point. and well, who are you to reject adam in the form of your boyfriend, mingyu? 

christ’s sake. the things that he makes you think and do. 

the very rare times that you are not bombarded with magic mingyu would be when you’re both outside. being his girlfriend also means being his workout buddy. it also means fighting demons that whisper the filthiest things about him to you as you help him with his workout. well, the demon might just be your brain. 

you keep—try to keep your eyes on his face, sipping from your water bottle after your workout. and he does the same, maintaining eye contact with you as he hydrates himself too. mingyu can make anything hot. even the most innocent things like eye contacts or cooking. or maybe you’re just a pervert. 

you internally sigh, breaking the eye contact and look around the almost empty gym. it’s pretty late, and only a few night owls are in sight. but empty enough to get away with him pushing you against the mirror and fucking the life—that’s enough. this man has reduced into a degenerate at this point. 

with embarrassment in your veins, you quickly kiss his cheek, promising to use the shower quickly and reunite with him to go home. you again fight demons as you sprint to the shower area. you could just go home and shower with him. and have some more ‘workout’ too. shaking your head, you quickly take your shower. 

…

“is everything ok?” mingyu asks, concern etched onto his face. you haven’t even touched the food he made, and you’ve been like this since coming back from the gym. you hang your head down in shame and shake your head, shifting on the couch. he’s worrying about you, and here you are, thinking filthy things about him. 

his big hands wrap around your wrist, pulling you closer. “shit, you have a fever?” he tilts your face up and lays the back of his hand on your forehead. the other hand lays on your waist, feeling ticklish and hot on your skin. your skin burns more at the question. oh that? no, i was just thinking about getting folded in half and being fucked by you. nothing else haha…

“no,” you manage a grunt out, feeling shy under his gaze. “what are you talking about? you’re burning!” he counters. you sigh, and all the escape routes close, leaving only one path open. 

with great courage and greater embarrassment, you admit, “just horny,” 

“hmm? can’t hear you baby.” he leans in closer, eyes big with worry. 

“i’m horny and i wanna fuck you.” 

mingyu does a double-take at your words. you’re burning up for him? you’re almost seated on his lap now, looking at him with lust-clouded eyes and parted lips, and he feels the waves of heat seeping from you. the post-workout adrenaline is yet to wear out, and he feels so drunk on you. he leans down in a daze, slotting his lips on yours and pushing his tongue into your mouth right away. 

you moan into his mouth, gladly accepting his warm tongue with your own. he pulls you onto his lap, resting his hands on your ass and squeezing them through your thin sweatpants. you tug on his hair, earning a groan from him before feeling up his muscles. mingyu shivers when you caress his back. then you rub his biceps, feeling the hard muscles before settling on his pecs. 

he yelps when you pinch his nipple, breaking the kiss. you don’t give him time to think, pushing him back on the couch and removing his shirt. he breathes shakily as you palm his chest and thumb his nipples. a pathetic whine erupts from his throat when you kiss down his jaw, sucking on his tan skin. 

you lick up a stripe on the column of his throat, and his hips buckle up, pushing his needy cock into your warm, clothed cunt. you nip at his sensitive skin, leaving behind patches of wet saliva as you descend down. mingyu grips your ass, pushing your hips down as he grinds his hard cock against your core. 

you finally reach his pecs, littering kisses all over them but then he pulls you away, causing you to pout and whine. he matches your frustration, whining about his cock. “please, i need to feel you.” you huff, discarding your pants hastily and he does the same. you stop him when he tries to take off his boxers and he looks at you confusedly. 

confusion turns into neediness when your hands wrap around his cock, freeing it, but you leave the boxers on. his veiny, hard cock rests heavily in your hands as you push aside underwear, guiding his cock inside it. but you don’t let him inside you, instead resting his cock against your cunt, and the thin material of your panty is stretched by cock. he moans, feeling the cloth pressed against his aching tip. his eyes roll back, feeling your arousal coat the underside of his dick when you grind against him. 

you resume where you left off, sucking hickies on his pecs. mingyu lets you take charge, lazily grinding against your wet cunt. his mind goes blank, and his nerves fire up with the need to be inside you. your warmth is driving him crazy, and he can only whine as you move against him, his tip stimulated by the material of your panties. 

mingyu moans loudly when you wrap your lips around his nipples. your tongue flicks at the hardening bud, sucking hard on it. your hand plays with his other nipple, pinching and probing at it. the sensation throws him off the edge, and he completely loses it. whining, he moves his hips at a faster pace. you release his nipple with a wet pop, only to suck on the other. 

your wetness coats most of the underside of his dick now, but you’re still dripping. you whine against his nipple as mingyu grinds faster, and your pussy throbs against his length. with a bite to his bud, you pull away, gripping his shoulders and grinding back against him. 

he rests his head on your neck, biting down on your skin to stop his whining. but it’s fruitless as he humps you faster, feeling his orgasm building up. you tug on his hair, pulling his head back to kiss him. you lick into his mouth, kissing him deeper and grinding down harder. 

he breaks when you bite his lower lip, immediately cumming with a loud groan. his large hands lock behind your back, pressing you down, which causes the material to stretch over his tip. the pearls of cum oozing out his slit gather at one spot before oozing out the cloth as well. you groan in unison at the lewd sight, and you rub the cum, spreading it and rubbing his sensitive tip. 

pulling him out, you rest against his chest and sigh. feeling sated even though you didn’t cum. he chuckles, and his chest reverberates at the action, causing you to look up at him with a smile. “what?” you kiss the corner of his lips. 

“no wonder you’ve been ogling my tits for the past few weeks. you could’ve just asked, y’k?” he smirks, brushing his knuckles against your cheek, and you flush. so, he did notice. your cunt throbs again, and you gulp, feeling shy under his gaze. like you didn’t just suck his tits. 

“caught you red-handed?” he brushes his lips against yours, one hand resting at the base of your neck and the other caressing your hips. you pinch your eyes shut, hiding in his chest, and he chuckles again. “i don’t mind, baby. you can be loud about your fantasies.”

he drums his fingers on your ass, humming, and you practically feel his smirk. cocky bastard. you huff, opening your mouth to make a sassy comment, but instead, you yelp when he moves under you quickly. he lays on the couch and repositions you over his face. 

you gasp, feeling his warm breath hit your wet cunt. he presses a kiss over your panties, and you have to grip the couch to not lose balance and end up suffocating him. “you fulfilled your wishes. now it’s time for mine.” he whispers against your core, smirking up at you. 

his wish? having you suffocate him with your cunt as he laps at your juices. (and that’s the only thing that has been running through his mind, watching you work out in the damn spandex pants.)

tags; @seungkwanschicken @aaa-sia

[pathologicalreid]

could we get Spencer Reid with a hypersexual reader that uses sex as a bad coping mechanism? 💕💕

don't look in the mirror | S.R.

seeking comfort in those you hold close, except there's a right way and a wrong way to do it

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst (i think?) w/ mature themes (18+ mdni) content warnings: seeking comfort in sex, avoidance, mental health issues, spencer has those info dumps on lock, shame, self deprecation, reader hates her job (me too), blood as a metaphor, crying word count: 1.85k a/n: this is such an important topic and i'm so thankful for you asking me to write this!!!! i know this is a premise i've seen before, so i tried to make mine different. (im actually really proud of how this one turned out)

“Baby,” Spencer whispered in your ear, turning his head to the side as you left small, slow kisses on the exposed skin of his neck.

You hummed but refused to detach your lips from his soft skin, tugging gently at his shirt so that you could make your way down to his collarbone. He smelled like sunshine and the jet, an admittedly odd combo that did nothing to stop your movements down the column of his throat. His neck vibrated with sound, but none of his words registered, it all went in one ear and out the other.

His hand gently settled on the small of your back and you took a deep breath before you began pulling at the knot of his tie, “Y/N,” he muttered in a warning.

Your head snapped up at his tone, disappointed that you didn’t find the same want in his eyes that you knew was blazing in your own irises. Synapses in your brain were firing at lightning speed, and your heart was beating so quickly that it was like it was trying to keep up. “I missed you,” you whispered to him, allowing your eyes to flitter across his face.

Spencer settled his hands on your hips, firmly grabbing them in exactly the way you wanted, but instead of pulling you closer to him, he stilled their rotation.

Your heart stuttered.

“What happened?” He asked you tentatively, using the pads of his thumbs to rub soothing circles on your hips, trying to keep you from moving while giving you comfort. Despite the way you were sitting in his lap, Spencer still felt worlds away from you – if he was on Earth, you were in a different galaxy. 

Hesitantly, your lips parted, and you took a deep breath before shutting your mouth again, deciding you had nothing to say. While he’d been away, nothing significant had happened, everything in your life had trudged on exactly the way it always did. You went to work at the same job you’ve had since you got out of college with a boss who most certainly had it out for you, and you came home to an empty apartment with your phone volume all the way up, waiting for your boyfriend to call you. You really were pathetic, but you didn’t voice those concerns, instead, you answered, “Nothing happened,” the half-truth easily slid from your mouth. “Can’t I just have missed my boyfriend and want to spend quality time with him?”

Spencer hummed thoughtfully, tilting his head back as his hair moved with him, “Stop, Y/N,” he said.

Without even realizing it, your hands had drifted down to his chest, and your hands were absentmindedly fiddling with the buttons of his shirt, “I didn’t…” you started to say, but your words faltered when you noticed the way he was looking at you. You looked over your shoulder, making sure that the rest of the world was still there as you tried to climb off of Spencer’s lap. “Let me go,” you insisted, hating how small your voice sounded as you pushed against him to no avail.

“I can’t let you go, not right now,” he told you, steadying his resolve as he watched you. You were staring at your hands like they were covered in blood, red-covered palms as you watched, horrified at the idea of them developing a mind of their own. It wasn’t as if your hands had suddenly become sentient entities, your heart and your brain were working against each other, fighting a silent, internal war. “Pick a spot for your hands, and just leave them there,” he whispered to you.

Your hands tremored as you settled them on either one of Spencer’s shoulders, “You don’t find me attractive anymore,” you mumbled, struggling to find the strength to enunciate your thoughts.

Spencer sighed, “Why don’t we take a minute, okay?” Delicately, he moved one hand from its station on your hip and moved it to cup your cheek, holding your face as if it were made of fine china. “What happened while I was gone, honey?”

His hand was wet on your face, or rather, your face was wet from tears that had started to trickle from your tear ducts. You furrowed your brows in frustration, “Why do you assume that something happened? Nothing happened while you were gone, why can’t you just let that be the answer?”

“Because it’s not the answer,” he insisted, dropping his hand back to your hip, continuing to stop you from getting up and moving away from him.

You scoffed, “Is it not the answer, or is it just not the answer you’re looking for, Spencer?”

“It’s not the answer, and I’m looking for the answer. You can tell me anything,” he urged, resuming his soothing movements over your hip.

As you watched his expression morph into a slight panic, you realized he was beginning to think something happened to you. With what he did for work, it was always in the back of his mind, you being in danger of being hurt by other people but what he rarely considered was the idea of you being a danger to yourself. “Nothing happened, okay? Absolutely nothing happened to me while you were gone and everything in the world stayed exactly the fucking same. I went to work every day and I came home and sat around while I waited for you to call, I waited for you to come home and now you won’t even touch me.”

Your tears kept coming, leaving saline stains on his gray shirt as your head spun and his movements stopped. “Work was bad?” He asked softly, using his fingertips to wipe beneath your eyes. He knew about your issues at work, he had been encouraging you to leave the job for months, but you were convinced that a promotion was coming. “You shouldn't have to be miserable every time you go to work.”

“Not everyone gets to be hand-picked for a top job at twenty-one. Some people have to work shitty jobs to make ends meet,” you snapped at him, nostrils flaring angrily.

He didn’t answer right away, you became hyperaware of the pounding of your heart as you waited for his response. As you waited for him to kick you out. “I told you that I’d support you if you wanted to go back to school. I meant it, Y/N,” he told you, brown eyes flooded with concern. “You can leave your job and pursue your dream, that’s all I’ve ever wanted for you, baby.” Spencer leaned back against the couch cushions, “I can’t help you until you help yourself, love.”

Slouching your shoulders, you felt your eyes starting to line with tears again, “It feels so unfair to have you shoulder more responsibility so that I can go back to school.”

“No,” he said, “What’s not fair is you lying to me and then trying to avoid it with sex. I asked you how your week had been, and you either didn’t care to answer me or you have such bad tunnel vision that you didn’t even hear me.” He gently chided, giving you time to drown in the blatant concern in his eyes, “and what’s worse is you never told me it was this bad.”

You averted your eyes, focusing your gaze on the chessboard behind him as you thought about your next move. In one fell swoop, he could checkmate you, completely catch you off guard, and tell you everything that you didn’t want to hear. Alternatively, you could sacrifice yourself for his benefit, “I hate my job. My boss is making it impossible for me to make any positive stride, and that’s on top of him being a misogynistic douche.” You flexed your hands where they remained on Spencer’s shoulders and sighed, “And yes, I miss you when you’re gone. Yes, I lied to you about it, but what would you do about it? Leave your big important job because your girlfriend is lonely?”

He craned his head to the side, silently encouraging you to make eye contact with him, “I’d hope that you’d feel comfortable enough to tell me how you’re feeling so that we could work something out – we can talk through this. It’s a two-way street though, you have to talk to me. I can make an effort to call and text more if you promise me, you’ll make an effort to communicate with me.”

Slowly, you started to nod, “I… I can do that, but you hate texting,” you reminded him, raising your eyebrows curiously.

“I’ll get over it,” he reassured you, studying your features, “You’re worth it,” he added.

Finally, you pulled your arms back, hugging them around yourself protectively, “I’m sorry,” you murmured, “I don’t know why I am… the way that I am.”

Spencer took a deep breath before giving you a look that told you he had an inkling, “You’re unhappy, with me or the world, it doesn’t matter, but you think the solution to your displeasure comes in the form of an orgasm and that’s just not the answer, honey.”

You hiccupped and wrapped your arms tighter around yourself like you could make yourself smaller, “I still don’t know why though.”

“You’re seeking the rush, not necessarily the act of sex itself, you want the dopamine and oxytocin rush that comes with an orgasm. Your brain convinces yourself that it’s what you need because when you get unhappy like this, all you can focus on is how to feel better and fast,” he spoke to you gently – he knew this wasn’t what you wanted to hear, but it was what you needed to hear. “It’s brief, and it’s just for that moment, and your brain might even recall how your parasympathetic nervous system shuts down after you come, and your body gets tired. You get a rush of serotonin, and you relax enough to convince yourself that it'll be okay, but you need to find something more permanent. I’ll help you.”

Your arms fell limply at your sides, “Do you think I’m broken?”

The small smile he gave you was enough of an answer, “No, in fact, I know you’re not broken.” Tenderly, he reached out and unwound your arms from around your torso, “And since I know you won’t stop thinking about it, I do still find you attractive.” Spencer studied your face, “Where do you want to start?”

“Do you want to help me draft a letter of resignation?” You offered, giving Spencer a shy smile.

He hummed in response, “Yeah, in a bit.” Your boyfriend reached his hands out to you, now being the one who pulled you close, “Come here, darling.”

You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder and sighing as he wrapped his arms around your torso, “I missed you,” you mumbled, entirely deflating your lungs as you let yourself relax.

Spencer reached up, ruffling your hair with one hand and keeping another on the small of your back as he sighed with you, “I missed you too.”

[collaredkittyboy]

Well it's come up multiple times today so I'll make a post about it.

I think the popularization of the word "twink" has ultimately been really bad for people in general.

I know it's hard to track the positive and negative effects of language but I don't think it's hard to see how creating a word for a group of people wherein the most consistent qualifying trait is "being skinny" is healthy for people's self image. Obviously people have lots of ideas about what it means to be a twink- gay, lacking body hair, feminine, beautiful, young, white- but the most consistent descriptor I've seen is "skinny." Hell, it's even a body type on Grindr; the size below "average."

So it kind of functions as a code word in the gay community: anyone can say that they're only interested in twinks and they don't have to look shallow by saying they only like skinny guys. It's such an accepted attitude that no one really bats an eye when they hear it.

I'm not even going to get into how it's become part of the larger issue of people turning "top" and "bottom" into gender roles 2.0, but that is closely related, because people with any internalized homophobia can look at a skinny, feminine man and turn off their fag alarms by viewing him as a woman or not a "real" man, and it makes twinks more acceptable to society at large.

No, ignoring all of that, one of the biggest issues is that gay men are taught by society that they are only attractive while they are skinny. Just having the label "twink" reminds a boy that people are looking at his body and judging it. There were countless times when I was growing up that people would tell me, "You're such a twink," or argue about whether or not I qualified as a twink because I had body hair. People around you, unpromted, judge your body and give you a label based on it, and that label has a large influence on whether or not you're seen as objectively attractive. I know many other gay people who say they wish they were a twink so they could be more attractive to guys.

So think, you have all these kids growing up being told whether or not they qualify as a twink, and then we have the gay community as a whole where it's completely acceptable to say you're only attracted to twinks. I think its because of all of this pressure to be a twink (in other words, to have a below average weight) that many of the gay people that I interact with struggle with a negative body image or eating disorders.

I mean, people talk about "twink death" like it's an actual event that makes a gay man much less attractive, and no one thinks that, maybe, it's harmful to tell a guy that the very day he stops being young and thin and pretty, he will stop being attractive and celebrated?

I'm not qualified to speak on fatphobia in physical queer spaces because I don't have the ability to frequent them where I live, but I can't imagine that these aren't issues at social gatherings as well. I also can't speak on my own experiences with weight discrimination because so far in my life I have had a naturally thin body, but I have experienced a lot of outside pressure to be thin that have caused me to pick up unhealthy eating habits to reduce my weight in fear that I could become fat later on. Thankfully that is something that I've mostly been able to work past. I'm not an expert, but idk, I just wanted to rant on my silly tumblr blog.

Obviously it's impossible for a word to be inherently bad. I'm not trying to imply that saying "twink" is a magic word with evil powers. Obviously the real issues at play here are fatphobia and harmful beauty standards and body shaming. But in my opinion, the popular use of the word twink has made it much easier and acceptable to express fatphobia, etc, in the gay community by turning "skinny person" into a "type of guy that you should try to be so you can be attractive."

[fatkish]

Alphas Mitsuri and Obanai x Omega Reader

When Mitsuri heard that an omega survived and passed final selection she went straight to Obanai and couldn’t stop talking about it

She really wanted to meet you and asked Obanai if he had heard anything

Even though he didn’t really believe that an omega could survive final selection, he didn’t want to ruin Mitsuri’s happiness so he didn’t voice his thoughts

Any Omegas that were born into his family were fed to the demon almost immediately, so he didn’t have any negative views towards omegas like he did with women

When you showed up at the Kamado siblings’s trial, Mitsuri thought it was so sweet how you fiercely defended Nezuko’s box and thought it was so admirable seeing the protective love of an omega

Obanai thought you were clearly lost to your instincts and not in your right mind. The moment you let your guard down, he planned to steal the box away from you so he could protect you

When Sanemi tried to attack you to get to the box, Obanai was actually glad that Giyuu stepped in to protect you

When Ubuyashiki arrived, and everyone was questioning whether or not Nezuko would attack someone, Mitsuri was horrified when you slit your wrist and flaunted it in Nezuko’s face just to prove your point

Obanai was shocked seeing you, a bleeding Omega, who was purposefully releasing their scent, not being attacked by the demon sister

Obanai instinctively wanted to run to you and take care of your wounds

When Ubuyashiki told them to accept Nezuko, Mitsuri had to hold in her laugh when you stuck your tongue out at them. She thought you were cute and Obanai thought you were being childish(cute)

When Ubuyashiki asked the Hashira to train you, Mitsuri was so happy when you decided to go to her second. She was so excited to get to spend time with an Omega, she could barely contain herself

When you arrived at her place, she ran out to greet you and swallowed you up in a hug and hurried you inside. Obanai was there and they decided that they would train you together

Mitsuri thought you smelled good and so did Obanai

Mitsuri loves cooking with you. She loves spoiling you with food and affection and you love seeing her enjoy the food you make

Obanai doesn’t eat much but when he does, he makes sure to eat what you both make him

Obanai was internally panicking when you and Mitsuri trained, he watched you both and saw your flexibility which made him think shameful thoughts

Mitsuri was amazed at your natural strength, being it that you were abnormally strong for an omega, she understood how it could affect you seeing as she herself is extremely strong and it made finding love difficult for her

Mitsuri loves to hear you sing and play your guitar (c’mon you’re a music breather, of course you have a guitar) she’ll dance and sing to your songs while Obanai just watches and listens

Mitsuri loves hearing stories of you growing up and when she learned that you were raised by the swordsmiths of the swordsmith village she swore to ask them about you and any stories they had next time she visited

Obanai was rather shy so it was mostly just Mitsuri telling you what to do with Obanai’s occasional input

When Obanai saw how well you got along with Kaburamaru, he was glad to see that you weren’t afraid of him and it made him happy

You built a communal nest that you and Mitsuri snuggle in at night. She brought you all kinds of blankets and pillows and other bedding

Obanai occasionally just sits in the nest as you and Mitsuri snuggle together

Obanai is so happy to be invited into the nest and he can’t deny how warm and cozy it is

When Obanai had any one on one time with you he was rather shy but you both managed to bond over your shared affection for Mitsuri

When it came time for you to leave to go train with Rengoku, Mitsuri decided to walk you there and you said goodbye to Obanai

Obanai secretly wished to marry both you and Mitsuri. He hoped that maybe one day, he and Mitsuri could be your alphas

Mitsuri wished she could be your Alpha along with Obanai. She could already picture the cute little family you guys would have

Tag list: @imagineshazamlokimight

[allaboutthemoonlight]

How to Master Motivation

Hi friends,

Today I want to talk about motivation and finding ways to maintain it in our daily lives. Motivation is a crucial factor that drives us to achieve our goals, overcome challenges, and stay committed to our development.

Understand the locus of control

Our locus of control, internal or external, is the degree to which we believe we have control over what happens to us in our lives. It influences how we respond to circumstances that impact us and how motivated we feel to take action.

An external locus of control is when we believe that our life and the outcomes we experience are a result of external forces beyond our power. We think everything that happens to us occurs because of chance or luck—two things we can’t control.

The key to staying motivated is to develop an internal locus of control. This is when we believe that we’re responsible for the things happening to us and understand that we have control over the outcome. It’s a level of self-determination where we realize our efforts, decisions, and habits create the life we live.

So, how do we adopt an internal locus of control?

The first point I want to emphasize is that, regardless of your perception of how much control you have over your life, the amount of work you put into something is always within your control. The first step is to abandon the mindset that everything is left up to chance and, because of this, you should stop trying. You need to understand that you always have some level of power over your circumstances, even if you’ve been told otherwise:

Be more aware of the choices you make and realize there is always a choice to be made.

Don’t be afraid to ask for help or guidance from those around you.

Spend time self-reflecting and trying to understand yourself better. Reflect on previous instances where you’ve felt a lack of control and write down what could have been done instead.

Don’t be afraid to fail; it’s an opportunity to learn.

Know the different types of motivation

Next, I want to talk about the different types of motivation and how they impact you.

There are 4 different types of motivation, each with their own distinctions:

Intrinsic motivation: This is where you do something because it aligns with your values or just because it’s fun. Although it’s good to have intrinsic motivation, this type is fragile and can be undermined when we start feeling like we’re losing autonomy over our choices.

Extrinsic motivation: This is what most people think of when they imagine motivation. It’s when our motivation comes from outside of us—we’re doing something for a reward or to avoid a punishment. It’s the opposite type of motivation that you should seek if you want to be self-driven.

Introjected: This type of motivation can create resentment or tension. We do something because if we don’t, we’ll feel shameful or guilty. For example, you might go to the gym not because you enjoy it or care about the health benefits, but because you feel guilty if you don’t work out.

Identified: The reason you’re doing something is because it aligns with your idealized self. It’s something that you’ve internalized to be important and allows you to behave in accordance with your self-concept and identity. This is the most important type because it creates habitual behaviors are no longer choices. We understand our identity and that certain habits and behaviors need to be done so that we’re constantly aligned with our higher selves. For example, you might regularly volunteer at a local shelter or organization because you’re someone who values compassion and community service.

So, how can we implement identified motivation more into our lives?

Really try and understand the reasoning behind a goal you want to achieve. Ask yourself “why do you actually want this thing?”. This is also a good time to review your values and whether or not your goal aligns with them.

Constantly remind yourself about why the outcome matters to you because we often forget the reason that we started in the first place. —ex.

Like James Clear said, make your goal, system, habit, or whatever you’re wanting to accomplish more motivating or fun. Beyond that, start associating the reward with the challenge itself. If you’re training for a marathon, instead of seeing the finish line as the only reward, find or fulfillment in the training process and the discipline you developed along the way.

Adopt a positive mindset. Rather than complaining about having to workout in the morning or studying for an exam, start saying “I get to study for this exam and further my education” or “I’m blessed to have a body that works for me and allows me to exercise”. It’s all about perspective and embracing gratitude. If you put half the energy that you use from complaining into figuring out how to take the next step, you’ll accomplish a lot more.

Don’t neglect your emotional and mental health

Slumps are very real, and mental health can impact every aspect of motivation. Self-improvement and changing your life aren’t easy journeys by any means, and there will be times when stress and feelings of being overwhelmed can paralyze you. In these moments, it’s critical to take a break, a breather, or anything that can help reset your mental health. Remember to engage in activities that support your emotional needs. Not every second of the day needs to be spent doing something productive or working toward your goals. It’s okay to take breaks and have rest days; in fact, I think it’s crucial.

Reward yourself often, even for the smallest achievements. It’s not about what you completed, but the fact that you completed something at all. Spend time acknowledging your accomplishments.

Take it one step at a time and remember no action is too small. Starting small is what helps us build consistency in the long run.

Embrace positive self-talk. Avoid talking yourself into a negative spiral, as it will only make you lose motivation and put you in a slump.

Get an accountability partner. Having someone in your corner who will cheer for you and keep you accountable is a game changer.

Stay motivated, stay grateful, stay resilient.

Love,

Luna<3

[ariestrxsh]

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⚠️ content warning: ⚠️ smut, oral, mentions of masturbation, very light humiliation

✍️ Summary: ✍️ Your best friend Chris finds a book containing erotic literature on your nightstand and teases you about it. However, as he starts to flip through the pages, he starts to see the appeal, and you watch in real time as Chris discovers he actually likes it.

╚═ ❀•°❀°•❀•°❀°•❀•°❀°•❀ ═╝

"I'm so bored. Can I come over?" Chris asked when I picked up his call. "Sure you can. I'm still stuck at work for another hour, but my place is unlocked. Let yourself in, and I'll meet you there," I told him. "I'll bring the weed," he chuckled. "You better or else don't even bother coming over," I playfully replied. "I've got your favorite. Blue dream," he told me before hanging up.

I tied up a few loose ends at work, checked to see if my boss needed anything else, and I headed home.

Once I got to my place, I headed straight for the backyard. Knowing Chris, he was already out there sparking up. I stepped out onto my back porch to find Chris with a lit blunt between his lips, his feet kicked up, and he was slouched down in a chair reading a book? Chris wasn't much of a reader, so this surprised me. "Hey! Whatcha reading?" I nonchalantly asked, not even glancing at the cover.

"I don't know. You tell me. It was on your nightstand," he responded, looking at me mischievously. Then it dawned on me. Oh my god! He was reading one of my dark fantasy romance novels that I left on my nightstand the night prior. I thought about grabbing it from him, but chances are it was too late. He was already several pages deep.

It was one of my favorites. It was a story set in medieval times where a princess is captured by a man who was sent to kill her, but instead, he captures her and ends up fucking her and falling in love with her. There were a lot of detailed and deranged sexual encounters in it. The book is from the princess' point of view and deals with her internal monolog of falling in love with her captor and the shame she feels about liking everything he does to her.

"What? You into it?" I teased him. "I'll be honest - kind of," he smirked, and he passed me the blunt he'd rolled. "Why don't you just watch porn like the rest of us?" Chris giggled, flipping to the next page, still reading it. I rolled my eyes and took a few puffs. "If you must know," I started, passing the blunt back to Chris, "I do watch porn, but sometimes I prefer to read it," I said, biting my lip. "Really? How come?" He looked at me intrigued. "Well, I like how detailed the books are, and I like that I can imagine anyone I want when I'm reading books. When you're watching porn, you're stuck with whatever usually unattractive male actors that they give you. Plus, I like having my mind stimulated, not just my eyes and my body," I said, shrugging.

"Oh yeah? And what hot guys do you picture?" Chris asked, teasing me, passing me the weed again. "Like I'd ever tell you," I scoffed. "Why not? Is it 'cause you think about me?" Chris jokingly asked me. However, I wasn't a good liar, and I did sometimes picture Chris. I couldn't help it. He was really hot, even though he was my best friend. I blushed and tried to hold back a grin as I passed him back the blunt. "No way! You think of me like that?" Chris responded, seductively smiling at me while he took another hit. "No!" I said, but even I remained unconvinced at the way it sounded when it came out.

"Do you ever play with yourself while you're reading these books?" Chris wondered, biting his lip and looking me up and down. "Well, what else would one do with pornographic material?" I rhetorically asked, smirking. "Does that mean you think about me when you touch yourself?" He questioned me, putting out the roach in my ashtray. Chris loved to stir people up and make them uncomfortable, and it's one of the things I found most attractive about him, the way he could rile me up so easily.

"Shut up, Chris," I said, slugging him in the arm. "It's a simple question you've yet to answer," Chris sneered at me. "You already know the answer to that, Chris. Did you come over here just to humiliate me?" I inquired. "Of course not. Only if you're into that," he shot me a look. I couldn't stop blushing.

"You know, this shit is well-written. It's actually making me a little hard," Chris admitted while he slowly started to stroke himself through his pants, looking up at me from the book. Ugh, he was doing this on purpose. "I'd love it if someone took care of it for me," he moaned, seductively grinning up at me and massaging the head of his cock through the fabric of his clothing.

I took in the lovely sight before me, Chris' ocean blue eyes locked on mine, his pouty bottom lip caught between his teeth, his fingers grazing the bulge between his legs. I couldn't control what happened next.

I helplessly fell to my knees. I couldn't look at him like that and not help him. My mouth fell open as he took himself out of his sweatpants, and I stared in awe at the way it looked. It was only half-hard, but it was big. He placed it between my parted lips, and I felt it grow bigger as I explored all the ridges with my tongue, and he responded with a breathy and drawn out "fuuuuck."

I slowly and sensually worked my way around his whole manhood. I left a long lick, starting at the base of his shaft and ending at his tip. I did this a few times, teasing him while his eyes followed my tongue. His cock lightly twitched, begging to be taken wholly into my mouth.

As I wrapped my lips around the head and took him in as deep as I could, I heard him let out a primal moan. I bobbed my head up and down on him, lightly gagging and making sloppy sounds as my lips glided across his enticing dick. I ever so gently ran my teeth along the tip, eliciting more harmonious sounds from him. "This is the best head I've ever gotten," Chris moaned breathlessly under the flit of my tongue.

I was obsessed with the way he watched me, his facial expressions tainted by sexual desire, and his soft whimpers. I felt his dick pulsate against the roof of my mouth. "Oh god," he muttered while he emptied his seed into the back of my throat. It was thick and sweet and salty, and I graciously swallowed.

Chris let out a satisfied laugh as I wiped my spit off my face. "Shit, do you have any more books like this? And can I please borrow them sometime?"

[setaripendragon]

So I'm still on this daemon AU kick, and I can't stop thinking.

What are the limits?

It's generally accepted that a daemon is an animal representation of the soul, right? So, you know, we've got birds and mammals and reptiles and insects.

But what about fish?

Obviously there's an issue here of, you know, environment, and if your soul literally can't survive in the air while you literally can't survive in the water, there's a problem.

But, hey, if it's small enough, you could have a little fishbowl for your daemon to live in. Hamster ball, but filled with water, rolling along at your heels. Fishtank on wheels that get tricked out like dudebros soup up their car. And maybe, if you're from a particularly sea-faring culture/lifestyle a water-bound mammal like a dolphin or an orca could make sense. And then there's things like sharks, which have so much symbolism attached to them that it seems a real shame to have to rule them out. (Someone who's particularly driven or ambitious having a daemon that would literally die if it stopped moving is a bit of symbolism I'm going a bit feral for, tbh.)

I think we have to rule out the deep sea creatures, unfortunately. Fishbowls and/or living on a boat wouldn't really solve the problem of pressure, and someone with a blobfish daemon would, uh... be in trouble.

And if we're talking about things that can't survive in the same atmosphere as humans, what about internal parasites? Like flatworms. I think it's safe to say that having your daemon parasitizing your intestine kind of defeats the purpose of having an external manifestation of your soul, but... There are species of flatworm that aren't parasites, so... do we just rule out all flatworms, or are the non-parasitic ones okay?

And speaking of flatworms, what about size? I've read some fun stories that deal with the issues that might come from having, say, an elephant daemon. It's not quite as dramatic as the issues of having an aquatic daemon, but actually, similar adjustments would have to be made to your living situation to cope. But, of course, it could be done and I don't think anyone's trying to rule out animals on account of how big they are, but I think it's safe to say that microscopic daemons are out for the same reason that internal parasites have to be.

There's a nice solid rule I can settle on; a daemon has to be a visible animal.

And, in point of fact, I think it's safe to say it has to be an animal. We can rule out trees and plants and even fungi.

So what about coral?

It's an animal, and if we are allowing for some aquatic daemons, then should coral be an option? Or are its vibes too plant-like to qualify? Do we rule out sessile animals like we ruled out microscopic ones? As much as I find the idea of a coral daemon absolutely hilarious, I am going to come down on the side of animals that are too much like plants are a no.

So a daemon has to be a visible, mobile animal.

But what about the ones that only move very slowly? I don't think we're ruling out sloths, but in the continuing vein of torturing myself considering various aquatic daemons, there's starfish and sea urchins and hell, even most bivalves can move at least a little, right? (Correct me if I'm wrong, I haven't done that research yet.) And there's a lot of fun symbolsim to be had, there, I think.

And what about extinct creatures?

I think it's safe to say that mythical creatures are a no-go, unless this is a 'verse where those animals are real, (oh, boy wouldn't that confuse people in a world like HP where most people think dragons and unicorns aren't real, but people still wander around with dragon and unicorn daemons) so we can ammend our rule to visible, mobile, real animals, but could we go so far as extant?

If yes, that would have interesting world-building implications. Where's the cut-off point? Can we rule out dinosaurs because we don't/didn't have enough information for a daemon to settle into a form that wouldn't be technically mythical? But then, what about animals that go extinct within human history? What about all the people who had mammoth daemons or dodo daemons as those animals were dying out.

Would conservationists study daemon statistics to see if an animal has really gone extinct? Would an animal's extinct status get over-turned when a kid's daemon settled into that form? Honestly, I like this enough that I've convinced myself that, at least barring some very unique circumstances, extinct animals are not allowed.

So, it has to be a visible, mobile, extant animal. That can exist in proximity to humans.

Oh, and should probably add; visible, mobile, extant, and non-sapient.

You can't have a human daemon, or an elf or a dwarf or a fairy daemon even if they exist in that world, and if this is a 'verse with dragons who're more than just exotic magical animals, you can't have a dragon daemon. (Obviously, if your fairies are more like magical bugs than tiny people, then fairies would be a valid daemon.)

...I'm still on the fence about whether a daemon should have to be air-breathing or not. That kind of rule would still leave marine mammals available for the fun world-building of how people adapt to that kind of handicap. (...Do you think people with aquatic daemons would be considered disabled? Oooh, what about people with really big daemons? I mean, presuming such a thing is comparatively rare, people probably wouldn't be building schools with a mind to allowing elephants or giraffes to wander the corridors.)

Disclaimer! This is for my own creative process, and not intended to limit anyone else's creative flair. And, honestly, I'd love to hear other people's takes on what does and doesn't qualify for a daemon.

[favvn]

You know what else drives me crazy about The Naked Time? This exchange:

It isn't just because of Spock saying, "Jim, when I feel friendship for you, I am ashamed" or "Understand, Jim. I've spent a whole lifetime learning to hide my feelings." Although, that absolutely is part of it, the fact that Spock is locked into his regret over not telling his mother he loved her and his shame at realizing that, despite all his work to adhere to Vulcan principles, he still feels love. It's that gap between duty versus desire, between expectations versus wants, and what remains in spite of the pressure. (I realize his words parallel a love confession in any other context, between any heterosexual couple, and that fandom looks to his shame as a confirmation of internalized homophobia, but the biggest issue for Spock is that love, sorrow, shame--all powerful emotions--still exist for him. He is not a Vulcan if he feels these emotions and gives into them. He is only a half-Vulcan and half-Human, caught between worlds and the judgments and expectations of two very different societies.)

It's because Kirk changes his phrasing of "We've got to risk a full-power start!" to, "We've got to risk implosion!" Implosion, like many words, holds multiple meanings. The intended meaning is "a violent collapsing inwards," the opposite of explosion. But implosion can mean integration, a coming together towards a single center point. We've got to risk coming together. We've got to risk integration. And Spock responds, "It's never been done." They repeat these lines twice. Repetition is a device to call attention in writing. Why have Kirk say they have to risk a full-power start twice before only to change it to implosion and repeat it twice? The two phrases mean something different, but it's important enough to bear repeating. (One could argue it is sloppy writing, or perhaps a case of actors failing to remember their lines, but what are the odds it was either of those, especially with someone as thoughtful as Leonard Nimoy. Either a writer is a professional who understands the power of words, or everything is somehow coincidental, holds no actual meaning, and writers don't think carefully about word choice and meaning, especially in an era where nuance can make or break a story on the screen.)

In the 1960s, during the time of the Hays Code, of course, two men couldn't be together as a couple on TV or in film, not even in space, in a time set centuries beyond our present. But damn if the dialogue can not hint at it, dance around it in plain sight. Again, Kirk and Spock's relationship must exist in the margins, between the lines, encased in nuance and multiple meanings, because to use explicitly clear phrasing would mean it all gets cut.

Hence, this bit of dialogue. The slaps become Spock catching Kirk's hand and holding it steady--direct sustained contact, a coming together, implosion. Spock is torn between regret and shame and love, while Kirk shouts about the ship being destroyed and ending the lives of the crew, their shared duty to the ship. The dialogue is Spock's turmoil writ large--do what must be done, accept two separate halves becoming a whole (is it Spock's two halves or Kirk and Spock? I'll leave that up to you), or remain apart and give into despair. But Kirk tells him their only chance is to risk implosion, to come together, and they have to take that chance.

[ferrstappen]

Max the wag (again)| Max Verstappen blurb

love note: I’ve loved the response to gossipy Max and (y/n) that I came up with this little piece 💘

YOU CAN FIND THE REST OF MAX THE WAG SERIES HERE

summary: a new break up hits the paddock and Max and you are the best investigators.

Canada GP, 2023

Max didn’t mean to overhear whatever was going on inside the four walls of Ferrari’s place on the track.

But if the information came his way, who was he to deny it?

He was mildly bored in between interviews and before FP1, not caring about interacting with people because you weren’t there, too many things to take care of, studying and being an intern didn’t allow you to be there with him. Still, he sent you silly pictures of him walking by himself (metaphorically since fans and workers were all over), he smiled at the WhatsApp sticker you sent him along with a picture of you, papers scattered all over your desk, iPad showing the F1 app.

While walking by Ferrari, he really really couldn’t help walking a bit slower as three engineers were enjoying a cigarette while loudly speaking to each other, motor and tool noises were ambient noise.

I heard she’d forgiven him once, after São Paulo last year.

What happened there? I keep hearing about it but i left to Abu Dhabi right after the podium.

Carlos and Norris contacted some girls and left with them or something along the way, kept it under wraps though but now? I think it was too much for her.

Shame, she was always polite and nice to everybody. She even knew our names!

And Carlos’ sister is getting married soon, he ducked it big time. I heard someone in the garage she decided to not go and his family is pissed.

It caught Max’s attention… he instantly recalled the conversation with you, trying to figure out if Carlos and Isa were still together. Clearly, they weren’t and the entire paddock was aware of it.

Maybe Christian could have more information about it.

But the first thing he did was to text you, announcing he had more information.

Info about what? Was your response, making Max’s eyes roll…

Sainz and girlfriend!

Max didn’t hear it, but you gasped at the simple text message. Max was very selective with the information he actually took seriously, and for him to tell you he heard something meant it was probably real.

Shut up! What did you hear? Who told you?!?!?

Max smiled, a smug grin knowing you were dying for the information, but he’d keep it for later, when he was laying on the hotel bed, fresh out of the shower, white t-shirt and shorts and ready to fall sleep. That’s when he was sharing the information.

He was surprised when you called him out of the blue and he chuckled, his gorgeous blue eyes getting smaller, little wrinkles forming, dimples showing.

“Hello schat, to what do I owe this pleasure?” Max teased, instantly taking in your neat hair, neutral make up and deep red lipstick… oh, what would he give to bite your lower lip and have his face and chest covered in faint red lipstick.

”don’t be coy! What did you hear? I heard the snippet of an interview and she sounded so broken it was so sad, but what did you hear?!” You rambled, making Max’s smile even bigger.

“I told you I’m sharing my discovery later, i’ll have to be in the car in thirty minutes or so,”

“I hate you so much, you can’t leave me hanging! I don’t want to ask her directly!” You complained like a toddler, noticing Max was just staring at you through the screen.

“I love you, I have to go,” Max said after he noticed part of the Red Bull PR team approach him. He was waiting for you to tell him you love him too, but your words weren’t exactly what he was expecting.

“Max babe, try to get info on Shakira and Hamilton!”

Honestly, you and Max were a match made in heaven.

[mournings-stars]

Lute x Charlie’s Best Friend

from this request by @lixanjewel

i may need to make a part two cus i kinda love this little enemies to lovers flirtation-situation-ship

this is a fem reader but i’ll happily write anything else as well!! :)

A meeting in Heaven was never something you expected. And you certainly didn’t expect Charlie to ask you to come with her — sure, you’d known each other since you were kids, and sure, you were the first person to support her ideas before Vaggie, and sure, you did a lot of planning…

Maybe you did have a right to go with them—

“Of course you do!” Charlie snapped you out of your thoughts as she packed her suitcase, yours (a backpack) packed and in your hands as you waited for her while you, apparently, thought out loud. “We’re gonna have so much fun!” She was bouncing in place, shutting her suitcase before she turned to you. “And you are gonna be so proud of yourself when we show them this dream is real! I couldn’t have done this without you!” You gave her a small smile before Vaggie came in. “Either of you!”

The rest of the morning was spent saying goodbye, getting that one wall destroyed, and sending your friends off with the person who destroyed it before you entered the portal to Heaven.

After making it past the gates, meeting Saint Peter, Sera, and Emily, you were touring with Charlie while Vaggie stayed at the hotel, the trip seeming to be taking a toll on her. To put it simply, she was in an awful mood, looking like she was going to be sick.

“Look, look, look!” Charlie squealed, pointing at a very fluffy white animal as she grabbed your arm.

That was how your entire trip to the zoo went before you got lunch with Emily, who was the one showing you around. She got the two of you food and drinks and when you went to sit, you cautiously excused yourself to continue looking around while they talked.

You took your drink with you as you walked the promenade, taking in the environment. It made you wonder what it’d be like if things were different — if you were born in Heaven rather than Hell.

“Enjoying your visit?” You were startled out of your thoughts by a girl dressed in all grey. Even her blunt cut hair was a pale grey. You recognized the uniform as an exorcist’s, but you had half a mind to think you were jumping to conclusions without the horns and X over her eye to prove it, but her eyes were gold — and they look far too warm to be so menacing. “Lute,” she introduced before the silence became awkward, sticking her hand out.

“Pretty,” was the first thing that came to your mind. She raised a very judgmental brow at you. “I meant your name… is pretty — well, actually, no, that’s not what I meant, but it is… pretty — like the instrument.” Her brow relaxed, and you sighed, feeling less like Charlie and her bundle of excited nerves and more like yourself and your internal bundle of excited nerves. You introduced yourself and took her hand, shaking with a smile. “I’m usually not so nervous,” you said.

“New environment,” she shrugged. “Why don’t we walk,” she suggested and brought her hand to your back to turn you in the direction you’d been going before she stopped you. “I thought only two of you were coming.”

“Charlie asked me to go with her for moral support.” Lute nodded along. “Childhood friends and all…”

“You’re Hell-born, then,” it was more of a statement than a question, but you nodded anyway. “Shame,” she muttered. “Maybe her little redemption idea could’ve actually worked with you.”

You paused. Surely, she was insulting you. “I should’ve realized,” you said, taking a second look at this angel. She wasn’t just a pretty girl wearing a uniform that resembled an exorcist uniform; it was an exorcist uniform and their LED light masks came with artificial horns. That meant if she knew about the reason for your visit, she was the one that was there during Charlie’s first meeting. And suddenly, the name, “Lute,” sounded very familiar from one of Charlie’s rants.

“I did introduce myself,” she said haughtily, “not that I expect a low-class demon to pick up context clues—“

“Oh, shut up,” you groaned. Her very pretty eyes, which looked like gold, now looked like… corn — or something — (it was the meanest thing you could think of), and her very pretty name, which sounded like music, now sounded like some kind of crime you would expect from an exorcist angel.

Lute laughed, taking pause for a moment before she did and nearly doubling over as she walked with you.

“Are you insane?” You asked with a sneer that made her laugh harder.

“No one’s ever told me to shut up like that.” She calmed herself down, snickering to herself. “Insane,” she laughed. “You must be, thinking you can speak to an angel like that.”

“Must be.”

And despite that, she kept walking with you. Neither of you knew where you were walking toward, but you kept walking anyway, her with her nose in the air and a pompous smile, and you looking anywhere but at her.

Finally, you broke the silence, “Were you following me?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Orders.”

“Why me?”

“Orders,” she emphasized like you were stupid.

“I heard you,” you mocked her tone. “But why the orders to follow me?” Then a very snarky idea popped into your mind as you smirked at her. “Unless you just blindly follow orders like some little bitch on a leash—“

“Do you want to die?”

It was your turn to laugh, shrugging. “You couldn’t hurt me if you tried.”

That, she didn’t respond to. Instead, she rolled her eyes and looked away. “Adam wanted to know why you were actually here, seeing as the hearing only includes the princess and her…” She waved her hand dismissively, a look of disgust on her face.

“Partner?”

She shook her head, scoffing. “That relationship is vile.”

You scoffed the same. “Is that something that keeps people out of Heaven, too?” You asked curiously, thinking of the many sinners you knew who seemed nice enough. “Vile relationships like theirs?” Lute frowned at you, looking confused.

“Oh, right,” she said, like she knew something you didn’t, and laughed. “You think I mean because they’re both girls, but thats not it.”

“It’s not?” You raised a brow and took a very long sip of your drink.

“Of course not. They just disgust me.” You laughed ironically, seeing no other answer for her hatred. “I don’t care how they choose to live their lives,” she insisted.

“You don’t need to convince me. We all have our assumptions of what Heaven thinks of people like us. I’m sure some of the… what do you call them? Winners? Said the same things when they were alive.”

Lute looked very uncomfortable, crossing her arms over her chest and looking down at the floor. “No one who thinks like that would be allowed into Heaven.”

“Doubt it. Did you have orders to talk to me, too?” You moved on quickly, making her chew the inside of her cheek.

“Unfortunately.” She huffed. “You do a lot of the princess’ research, don’t you?” You hummed. “Interviews?”

“I don’t like talking to people—“

“Clearly—“

“—who don’t like talking to me.”

“I can tell.” Her uncomfortable expression dropped and she laughed under her breath. “I’m glad I won't have to see you in court later. I don’t know how I’d respond to your accusatory defense.”

“Good thing Charlie didn’t want to take my advice for this, then.”

And Lute stopped walking very abruptly. She gave you a very kind smile and said, “I enjoyed our chat. Thanks for your time.” She looked very pleased, like she made you admit something to help her case.

“You’re welcome for the information,” you said lamely. “Charlie will achieve what she wants, Lute,” you said as she began to walk away.

“Not without your help,” and when she said your name, you quickly turned away from her golden eyes staring you down and walked back to Charlie and Emily.

There was absolutely no way you were about to (extremely gayly) overthink what was barely a conversation with a girl you didn’t like because of one sentence that wasn’t even a compliment.

Absolutely not. No way. Not happening—

“What girl is it this time?” You nearly shrieked when you heard Charlie, having walked all the way back to her and Emily where they were laughing.

“Charlie told me you have a talent for falling in love,” Emily giggled with Charlie. “Did you meet someone?”

“Or are you just talking to yourself?” Charlie teased, laughing.

Of course, all you could think to say was, “shut up,” which made you think back to the not-conversation you had with Lute. “Don’t we have a hearing to prepare for, or something?!”

[jojissalsa]

Perfect body, Pretty face

Warnings: dom!Leon x fem/sub!reader, power dynamics (boss/assistant), daddy kink, mentions of nudes/sex work, taking pictures during sex, facial, condescension, slight praise, mentions of age gap (reader is in mid 20s), clothes ripping (tights), reader is bratty at some point.

hello again :3 i wanna post what i can while i have the time, so i can kinda build this page up. hope u guys enjoy this one even if i feel like i made a few mistakes and lmk where i can improve! constructive criticism, reposts and requests are always welcome :D (minors don’t interact, touch grass.)

WC: 3.3k (proofread)

When Leon first came to the D.S.O, he expected bigger missions and harder work. Not boring ass reports and paperwork. The missions were definitely longer, which meant piles atop piles of paperwork that would take longer than it should. When the D.S.O realized Leon needed more time on his reports compared to the rookies or standard agents, they gave him a hand. You, his new assistant. And god, were you helpful. You were more than a sight for sore eyes, you were distracting at first, but even more so as he got to know you. You even remembered his favorite coffee order, and what he liked most for lunch. To him, you were just doing a good job. But in reality, you just wanted to get in his pants more than anything.

Your last boss was such a douchebag, the typical mansplaining and ungratefulness. But Leon? He was such a sweetheart, and so understanding. He didn’t get annoyed when you made a tiny mistake, a couple minutes late or working slower at the end of your shift. You knew damn well your attraction to him was bad for you and this job, but Eve still ate that apple didn’t she? You were the same, always attracted to forbidden fruit. But when it was Leon, who cares about forbidden? It just adds to the flavor. Obviously being an assistant didn’t make the most money, but at least you got a pretty face to work with. And there’s no shame in a side hustle, right? That’s what you thought when you made a Twitter account when you first became an assistant, well, intern at first. The job was so damn stressful and your shitty boss didn’t help. It was harmless fun at first, posting a few lewd pictures of your cleavage or in cute two-piece bathing suits you got. And then it got even lewder, posting pictures of your bare tits, dim lighting from your computer, things like that until you said fuck it and showed all the goods. Complaining about your shitty boss became part of your brand, as well as the faceless part of your nudes. You never showed your face, only your hair if it was a full body picture, not because you were ashamed of what you were doing. Not in the slightest, actually. You were just worried about word spreading around the office, especially since you were getting fairly popular. No face, no case, right? Plus, it’s not like anyone had x-ray vision to see if you had the same tits. It’s not like it hurt business either, you had a perfect body. You weren’t the skinniest person in the world, average like most people’s bodies. But to you, it was perfect. It suited you and flaunting it made you happy.

Your brand definitely shifted when you changed bosses, less complaining about how much your job sucked to more complaining about how badly you needed your boss to look at you differently. Pictures of you up-skirt under your desk whenever he wasn't looking or left to grab you both coffee or lunch, captions that always mentioned him.

"is it bad that my boss gets me this wet?"

"wish my boss would crawl under my desk and take care of this ;p"

And they would only get more and more risky. Posts of your increasingly skimpy outfits and a courtesy picture of you out of them captioned "you guys think my boss will like? lol". A video of you cumming in the bathroom at work, another where you cheekily slipped your fingers in your cunt, rubbing your slick over your clit before giggling as you turn the recording off.

Leon really didn’t mean to find something of yours this personal, he was just a guy looking for porn where he knew he could find it. He may be old but the man still needs to get off. And he was a man of taste, he liked the amateur stuff, and he knew Twitter had it. When he stumbled across your account, he thought it was perfect. At first he didn't know it was you, but by your most recent posts, it was obvious. You never name dropped him, or even said what he looked like, only saying he was fine and looked like a dilf, which was definitely an ego boost when he figured out it was you. It was easy, really. He was bored at night, couldn’t sleep like usual, and hoped that jacking off would clear his head a bit. It didn’t clear his head in the slightest when he saw your most recent video. It was of you working overtime, fingering yourself on his desk. Biting your lip to stay quiet but failing miserably as your fingers keep rubbing against that spongy spot in your walls, palm slapping against your clit. The best part? You said his name while you came. Maybe not his full name, but the way you let it out subconsciously, saying "Mr. Kennedy" in the most pornographic way possible, realizing you did and then giggling when you felt no remorse. Only an "oh shit" and a cutesy laugh as you abruptly ended the video. He was gonna say something tomorrow. He had to.

The second you walk in the door with that polite smile you always have, cute pink blouse and short pencil skirt, he waves you over to his desk. "Y/n, come here for a sec." His stern tone makes you blush and immediately walk over after setting down your bag. "Yes, sir? Is there something you need from me?" You expect him to say he needs a file or some kind of paper, but he shocks you when he turns his monitor around to show your twitter page. "You know anything about this?" You don't show it on your face, but the way you clench your jaw makes it obvious. You've got a good poker face, he'll give you that. "No sir, am I supposed to?" You get a bit of an attitude, mainly because he just totally called you out. "I don't know, you tell me." He scrolled very little down to your last post, the video. You gulp, knowing damn well you said his name. "Is that you saying my name?" His tone is still stern, but it feels more teasing now, considering his cocky smirk. He has you in a corner. "Don't you think it's a little sleazy to be prying into my personal hobbies?" Your attitude gets more prominent, crossing your arms and giving him a sharp glare. You were more prideful than anything, his smugness starting to piss you off because of how turned on you were getting. "Don't you think it's a bit slutty to finger fuck yourself on my desk?" When he shot back at you with that you froze, face going completely red. Not only was he right, you had no room to talk about his habits, but the way he said it was so fucking hot it lit a fire in you, shockwaves shooting straight to your clit.

You felt uncomfortable under his gaze, your lips parted as you felt your pulse throbbing between your thighs, knowing your panties were soaked. "You gonna say something or just come over here already? Stop wasting my time, I have work to do." It was instant when he said that, hips swaying as you walked to him, holding your hands in front of you as you looked down at the ground. "What's got you all shy? You certainly weren't shy last night." His teasing was really getting to you, making your lips squeeze as you shift your thighs again, your chest feeling so heavy with every breath you took. "Didn't I tell you not to waste my time? Sit on my desk and spread your legs." Your breath hitches at his demanding words, hopping up on his desk and spreading your legs. You thank god that it was a little chilly today, making you wear sheer black tights. Not that you'd be wearing them long, you just hope the wet spot on your panties wasn’t noticeable. "Jesus, soaked through your fucking tights? You're that excited?" His teasing made you go wide eyed, whimpering at his smug gaze piercing through you. "Yes sir.." You finally manage to speak, even if it sounds breathless and needy. Your eyes stay steady on him, taking in every feature you can. You lick your lips from the sight of his hard cock pressed against his tight slacks, not daring to close your legs in the slightest even if you were desperate for friction. "See something you like?" You watch him palm over his hard on, just watching something that sinful makes you moan softly. "I thought you said not to waste your time? What are you waiting for?" You throw any bit of shyness out the window, brattiness taking its place instead. After all, he meddled into something private, why make it easy for him? That’s no fun~

His brows furrowed as he gives you an annoyed look, groaning in frustration as he shoots up from his office chair and grabs your waist, pulling you from his desk and flipping you to bend over. He certainly doesn't waste any time now, pulling your skirt up and ripping a massive hole in your tights, making you gasp and squirm, turning your head to try and see the damage. "Don't complain, no point in denying you like it. Why else are your panties fucking drenched?" You throw him a frustrated glare before grumbling something about those being expensive under your breath. "Sorry, what was that?" You gasp as his hand slams down harshly on your ass cheek, whining at his gentle kneading on the now stinging red spot. "You're trying so hard to be bratty, when you're usually such a sweet girl. Always coming here early, bringing me coffee, remembering my favorite lunch. You don't do that because you like this job, hell, a slut like you doesn’t care about working hard. You do it because you want my attention." His hand keeps kneading the fat of your ass, making you back up into his palm for more. That doesn't stop your attitude though. "Oh boo hoo, as if you didn't love every second of it. How'd you even find my page? The nursing home gives you internet after 10?" Your bitchy tone doesn't go unnoticed by him, and neither does your smug smirk that is clearly challenging him, if anything it lights the same fire inside him, dick twitching under his slacks. He shoots you a glare that says "you really wanna do this?", as if you care about that silly warning. What's the worst he could do? "Y'know they shouldn't give a pervy old man like you access to stuff like that, it rots your brain~" You get cut off by another slap on your ass, harder than the last one, he doesn't even bother to soothe the sting with his hand. "Pervy old man? Then what are you? Some slut thinking of her boss's cock all day. How high and mighty." Another slap, and you're already unraveling by the second, the tingling sensation from his spanks sending shock after shock to your clit.

"You go on and on about me on that damn site for thousands to see, so why not take what you want? You're getting nowhere by being an ungrateful brat." He's really starting to make sense with how desperate you are to be touched, for that release you so desperately need. And with how hard his spanking is getting, it's making your head dizzy. He presses his hard-on against your ass, making you whine and grind against him. That's not enough for him though, he needs you to say it, the same way you said his name last night. "C'mon pretty girl, get what you want and ask for it, I know you can." He grinds against your ass, finally snapping through the sane part of your brain. "Fuck! Fine, please, please give it to me, I can't wait anymore, please Mr. Kennedy.." You beg in a gravelly voice, nails digging into his desk as the neediness in you builds. "Need what? You can say it." He slaps your ass again, a little gentler now that you're finally getting there, sliding his hand down to press his thumb on the gusset on your panties, hissing at how wet it felt. "Your cock, Leon, please, I need your cock so bad.." You whimper in broken fragments from your voice breaking, sighing in relief as he finally pulls down your panties, feeling your slick connect to them in strings and the cool air contrasting how hot you feel. As you heard the sound of metal clinking and a zipper pulled down you wished he flipped you over, because you really wanted to see his cock, turning your head in a desperate attempt to steal a quick glance. "Don't worry baby, you'll get a good look later." You don't care enough to question him, you care more about his tip pressed against your folds, threatening to stretch you open.

The coil of anticipation that's released when he finally slides inside you is the most euphoric feeling, growling as he fills you completely, balls nestled right against your clit. "Fuck, barely had to do anything and it slipped in so easy. Like you were made to take this cock, huh, sweetheart?" He goes slow at first, letting you adjust to his thick size, agonizing in how slow he drags his cock along your walls. All you can mutter is 'yes' like a mantra to keep you in reality, but every stroke is sending you further into that cloudy part of your brain where all you can think about is how you can feel everything. His hands on your hips to keep you in place, the way his cock kisses right against your cervix then pulls all the way out just to make you drunk off the feeling, his low and heavy grunts dangerously close to your ear, and it's all getting you even more impatient and needy. "Leon, please, go faster, need it faster." You speak through broken sobs and high pitched whines, looking back at him with a pleading pout. You can't say no to this cute face, can you? His nails dig into your hips, finally fucking you faster, and so much harder, you can feel the air in your lungs get choked out with every harsh thrust. "Just can't help yourself, can you? So fucking impatient." He can hear you getting louder, and between you and the sound of skin slapping against wet skin, he can at least silence one. "So loud, the whole fucking office can probably hear you." He puts his hand over your mouth and pulls your head up, body arching backwards as your head meets his shoulder. You can barely make out his smug grin as he looks down at you, glossy eyes with blown out pupils, your cheeks flushed a deep red.

"You look so pretty like this, looking up at me without a thought in that pretty little head. Just needed Daddy to fuck you stupid, huh?" He gets a wicked chuckle at your wide eyes, the way you clench tighter and move your hips to meet his rhythm. You curse yourself mentally for tweeting about that godforsaken daddy kink you have, or any of your kinks because now he knows every little thing that makes you tick. How frustrating. "Ohhh, didn't think I would look that far? You have no idea, spent hours looking at your stuff, even during missions I couldn't help but think about this sweet pussy wrapped around my cock." Your expression goes blank at his words, completely cockdrunk. You know you shouldn't do any of this, you can only imagine how much trouble you’d be in if someone walked in right now. But who could blame you? You couldn't name a single person who would throw away an opportunity like this. Who needs responsibility when you could have the simple yet intense pleasure that Leon Kennedy brings?

"Almost went crazy when I heard my name in that dirty fucking mouth, never been that hard in my life. Gonna make sure that mouth is full of my name every chance I get." You scream and whimper, the sound rumbling against his hand as you get closer and closer, toes curling into your heels. The sight is so damn beautiful to him, and he just has to see what you look like when you cum in person. When you cum on his cock, not some silly toy that could never satisfy you the way he can. His free hand takes its time sliding up your blouse to palm your tits over your bra, his fingers raking over the soft skin of your stomach before stilling at your bunched up skirt around your waist, right above your clit. "You wanna cum, don't you, baby? You're gonna be good and ask nicely, yeah? Go ahead, tell Daddy you wanna cum." He moves his hand away from your mouth but keeps your head up, gripping your face instead, watching as you greedily suck in air between mindless moans. "Please Daddy, please, please, please let me cum, need to cum so fucking bad-" Your pathetic babbling cuts off when his fingers put pressure on your clit, rubbing fast circles that make your brows frown as your walls clench, the knot in your stomach slowly coming undone. "There you go, such a good girl, asking me so nicely. Cum for me, sweet girl, cum on my cock for me." And you do, harder than you have in a while, squeezing your eyes shut so hard you see white spots, those sweet, broken sobs leaving your lips involuntarily, moaning his name as he slows down.

Before you know it, you're on your knees in front of him, finally getting a full, up close and personal view of his fat cock. He's thick, pre-cum pearling at his tip as he uses your slick to finish himself off, fisting his cock feverishly. "Told you you'd get a better look, now open up sweetheart. Gonna cover that pretty face in my cum, maybe even take a picture for those depraved little boys that get off on you." He’s one to talk.. His grunts and soft whimpers between his words make you bite back an eager grin, lolling your tongue out and getting blessed with the salty taste on his tip. You keep your lips pursed on his cock, looking up at him with doe eyes that make his cock kick in his hand, your own hands resting on his thighs. He pulls some hair away from your face with his free hand and keeps it there as he finally coats your cheeks and tongue with pools of cum, chuckling through breathless moans as he slaps his cock on your tongue. He grabs his phone as his free hand leaves your hair to press his thumb on your tongue, keeping your mouth open. He groans with a smug smirk as you look up into the camera, a clear, empty head as drool dribbles down your chin and onto his fingers holding your chin. "You'll get this picture tonight when I drive you home, 'kay?" He helps you back to your feet, cleaning off your face with his handkerchief and pulling your skirt down, fixing your wrinkled blouse. “Now go finish those reports for me, try not to work too slow, don’t wanna work overtime, do you?” He softly strokes your back, coaxing you closer to your desk. "Yes, Mr. Kennedy.." You breathe out, still wobbly on your feet as you walk to your desk, feeling the sting on your ass as you sit down, shivering at the tingle. Worth it.

[gabrielsbubblegumbitch]

this may be hard to answer because we don’t actually know the characters too well yet, but what do you think vox and val actually *love* about eachother? it seems like it’s more than just sex between them, and i’m curious to know what you think their relationship is like outside the toxic or sexual parts

Anon, to me it is not hard to answer at all, I think about it constantly 🩵❤️ of course all I write is based mostly on my headcanons and interpretations.

So... What Vox loves about Valentino? First and foremost, he makes him feel free. Vox is very self-conscious; he has a lot of internalized shame that he tries to cover with his grandiosity and fake smile. Valentino is unapologetically himself, and no matter how annoying it can be, Vox admires it. He's like the least judgmental person, and except for his temper tantrums, he's quite chill. Vox can't handle something? Val doesn't care; he still thinks his boyfriend is smart and will figure shit out eventually. Vox discovers he's into some weird, socially unacceptable kink? Great, they can try it. Vox rambles for hours about sharks? Good, he has a passion; Valentino likes people with passion, he will listen, he likes his voice anyway. Vox, who has spent his whole life crafting this perfect narrative about himself, cherishes the opportunity to feel comfortable enough with other people (a lot of these things apply also to his friendship with Velvette) to act like an absolute idiot around them.

Also, I think Valentino can be a really amazing boyfriend - he can be funny, charming, and mindful of the other person. That's his whole thing; he deals with desires, and that's why people get addicted to him so quickly. In most cases, it inevitably ends with him taking absolute control over the other person and becoming abusive. But Vox is his partner, so he gets just those nice bits because Valentino knows he wouldn't be able to put him down like he did with Angel. Not that he'd want to; he likes having a partner who's equal to him, whom he can break only if he allows him to do so (yes, my reading of them is very BDSM-ish, don't @ me). Valentino wants to be loved, he loves the idea of love, surrounds himself with hearts but at the same refuses to adjust to societal norms in the way that makes him unlovable; every person he ever loved (in his mind, his obsessive desire equals love) rejected him eventually after he revealed his true nature to them. But not Vox. Vox accepts him as broken as he is, and despite all his toxicity, Vox is reliable, he's the most stable part of Valentino's life. He has the patience to deal with his mood swings, he can always find the solution when Val messes something up, he's willing to accept all the attention Valentino wants to give him, and he supports his passions (ruining lives, making weird porn and abusing people).

Essentially, their love is largely about finally finding the other person who is as bad as you are, who accepts you no matter what and helps you grow (become an even worse person).

And some additional things:

Valentino really likes how smart Vox is. He himself is impulsive and acts instantly on his urges because violence is always an answer so he's kinda impressed when Vox presents him with some elaborate plots.

Vox loves Valentino's creativity, aesthetic, and attention to detail. He really likes nice things, but he lacks the ability to understand the nuance that is necessary for creating art.

They both enjoy each other's sense of humor.

Vox really likes that Valentino is kinda dumb? He can take care of him, and he likes taking care of people because it allows him to prove himself as The Best Boyfriend. He doesn't necessarily gets the idea of unconditional love, so the fact that he has an opportunity to earn it makes him feel more secure in their relationship. That's also why he loves spoling Valentino with gifts which is perfect because Valentino loves being spoiled.

Valentino likes being a little silly when he's with Vox. At work he can't manage people with his competence, so he does it with fear. But yelling and throwing people around is exhausting; he sometimes wants to bedazzle his gun while watching some trashy reality TV and bitching about his hard day at work. It's okay because Vox is also a little silly.

Valentino generally helps Vox live life more. He helped him come out of the closet (in my headcanon Vox for his whole life struggled with internalized biphobia); shows him that emotions other than anger are acceptable and don't mean weakness; even small things like always insisting on getting nice meals (while Vox could live his whole life on black coffee and rice) or decorating their apartment with fancy yet useless stuff.

They're both power-crazy maniacs, so the idea of being with someone who is widely desired by others and could destroy them if they wished is just so incredibly hot.

Vox | Valentino | What they hate about each other

If you liked these you should definitely check out my fic