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#i feel angsty tonight
lilacevans · 2 years
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mysticmikalla · 8 months
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Stardew Valley Bachelors Reactions to you cheating on them
Harvey
Harvey was never someone who felt extremely
He was someone who navigated life pretty level-headed, at least he liked to think he did
It wasn’t until you came, long after he believed he’d never be or feel extraordinary, that he began to really feel
Your first kiss, or your wedding day, for example, he felt so extremely happy that he thought that was what his patients described a panic attack as
The elevated pulse, the shakiness, the world having a slight spin to it
But in a good way, a very good way
And when it came to your infidelity, he felt it deeper
It was funny, though, cause you didn’t think he did. He was quiet for the most part, you did most of the talking, the explaining, the crying, the begging
He never yelled, or cried, or begged, he just sat
And eventually he would get up, “I understand”, and leave
That hurt more, somehow
He didn’t even cry that night. Or the night after. Harvey was so stunned, so speechless that this had happened to him, to us, that he just did not register it at first
He would go about his days as usual, just numb, and maybe slightly nauseous
Maybe he was done feeling the extremes you introduced him to
But he was wrong, and on a random weekday it hit him
It hit him so hard he had to close his office early and just cry. He was dizzy and so sick to his stomach that he couldn’t eat for days
He would never show this side in public, however - the next day, he opened his practice as usual, checking in with George as he did on Wednesdays, and eventually even started going back to the weekly Zumba classes again
Nobody will ever know how he grieves at night, especially not you. You do not deserve to know him like that anymore
Shane
Of course
Like, of course this would happen
It’s not like Shane distrusted you or the love you claimed you felt for him, either
But something was bound to go wrong, right?
Whether it be your death, a fuckup on his part or some other tragedy that befell the two of you, there was no way he was going to stay happy
It never lasts for me
Old habits die hard, but Shane just wanted to die
Not in a dramatic sense, either, but when he started seeing the bottom of the bottle on a daily basis again, he genuinely didn’t think there was a way out of this, he would not survive it this time
I wish he wouldn’t blame himself, but of course he did
Only he would be bad enough, dirty enough or broken enough to drive someone as good as you away
It had to be his fault. He wouldn’t go back to you anyway, but it had to be his fault
Was he actually so repulsive that he drove you into someone else’s arms? Did he drag you down so much that you needed to get away that badly?
You had him believe he wasn't bad, or repulsive, but then again, you fucked someone else, so what was he supposed to believe?
It took him a while to realize that you were never as good as he thought you were. But that didn’t help. All he was left with now was resentment towards you and resentment towards himself. There were not winners here
It won’t be as dark as that first year without you was, but Shane will never be happy again, not truly
Sam
He was a blubbering mess when you told him
The mixture of disbelief and the understanding that, oh, that’s why you’ve been off lately was entirely too much to handle, too much and all at once
Sam was always self assured, and he made friends and somewhat deep connections with people pretty easily
But none of that came close to what you two had
The relationship had always been easy - from the moment you two met, it was just so easy
And friendship led to a crush, a glance or two and sweaty palms
And then he was infatuated, and while always a daydreamer, Sam would think about you so much he couldn’t sleep
The love and respect he thought blossomed from that was so deep that it was untouchable
So did something so easy, so natural and good become one of the worst things that ever happened to him?
He’d kiss you, desperate, and in between kisses he would beg, “That’s not true, is it? Tell me it’s not true. I love you.”
And when he found that you weren’t kissing back, he would back away and mumble, “It’s true, isn’t it?”
Sam would need to see you again after you broke up - he still needed to understand, or know, or just express how angry and frustrated he was, and how dare you do that to him
He had a lot of support from his family and community- everyone loves Sam, and it was hard not to take his side on this one. That's what ultimately got him through it
But like never before in his life, he will question and doubt a good thing before it gets too good next time, if there’s ever a next time
Sebastian
He would not allow himself to feel
After hearing it as a rumor, then reluctantly confirming it with you, Sebastian would do anything to not feel what you had just done to him
Whether it was keeping himself busy with work, getting so high that he would forget your name, listening to such loud music that he couldn’t hear himself think, or all three at once, he would hold onto his anger and hope that grief would not reach him
He told you to stay the fuck away, and he would do his best to avoid you. Not once did he try to reach out and express his anger, or even stalk you on social media or ask about you.
God, especially not ask about you, he could not let himself be that pathetic
Withdrew socially even more, although when he did go out to the saloon, Sam and Abby noticed a new habit, how he would have to have a drink or three
Sebastian was never much of a drinker
It wasn’t until you inevitably ran into each other again that it really hit him that you weren’t his anymore
How he wouldn’t be able to come up to you and just talk and just be him, you know? Saturday nights weren’t his to look forward with you anymore
That your skin and your hair and your scent weren’t his, and even worse, they had been someone else’s, you had been under someone else
That’s when he would grieve. Then he would cry. That’s when he would realize that grief needed to be felt in order to be healed
And he would grieve, in his own way. He would take his time until eventually he could stand being around his family again. They tended to hover nowadays.
He allowed himself to miss and to think of you until the thoughts were no longer sad, or angry, just indifferent.
And now Sebastian is over you
Elliot
They say heartbreak is the strongest muse of all
Or at least he read it once, a few years ago
Now Elliot disagrees
At first, he did not believe it when he was told. He flat out denied it, almost letting out a chuckle at how ridiculous the thought of you being unfaithful was
I mean, there was no way. Your love was that of novels and songs, the kind that was eternalized in drawings and paintings worthy of museums
It had to he a misunderstanding, he was sure, and he hardly had to spend too much energy thinking about it
But when it came time to ask you, the way your smiled faded and lips formed into an apology, Elliot’s whole world collapsed
He would be silent
There were too many words and questions he needed to ask but didn’t actually want to know
Now to render a writer speechless... That was a feat, MC
Afterwards, he would not write or compose for months, almost a year. He did not want to, he did not have an ounce of inspiration, a drop of desire to create
And then, as predicted, everything he created was molded from his heartbreak, which he despised, which he thought was ugly and undeserving and would eventually just end up scraping.
It will take him years to produce something he is finally proud of again
Alex
Like Elliot, he would not believe it at first
But unlike Elliot, the thought did start to bother him enough that he needed to confront you pretty soon after he heard the gossip, the rumors
And even after a silent nod of your head and the tears brimming in your eyes, he did not want to believe
He would come close to you, grab you gently by the shoulders, and plead with you that it was a lie, or at least a very sick joke which he could eventually forgive you for
“With who? When? How many times?” He would ask again and again, frantic, but then dismiss your answer before you could give it
You talked for a long time that night, taking turns pleading and crying and yelling and then begging
Alex then stormed off, slamming the door shut, as if he could outrun what you had just told him
At first he was confused, and he seriously considered forgiving you and going back. There was just no way he could see himself without you anymore… How could you so effortlessly discard him? Maybe it was a one time thing....
That confusion would soon turn into more anger after enough support from his grandparents and Haley talking him out of giving in
After that, no way could he ever see himself going back. He deserved better. Fuck that. And fuck you, too
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hekateinhell · 6 months
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Armand/Daniel "Oh, hey now, don't start crying on me"
New York City, 1979
"Oh, hey now, don't start crying on me," Daniel swallowed, the gin and tonic Armand had so lovingly prepared minutes earlier churning restlessly in his stomach as the hand that wasn't still holding the empty glass came to pet Armand's curls on his lap.
Not the first time Daniel had seen Armand cry, but that didn't make it any fucking easier. His father's voice rang through his head, overlapping with the intro to Saturday Night Live: "Now don't cry like a little bitch, son. Makes you look weak. A goddamn punching bag. And that's no son of mine, so you better man the fuck up or I'll give you something to cry about!"
Daniel blinked hard, willing himself to focus. Willed the alcohol to clear his system immediately, as if that would make this any easier. As if that would give him the answers to all the questions he's ever asked.
One of the two ice cubes in the glass had fully melted, and the other wasn't far behind.
"Hey, hey, it's okay."
It's not okay.
Shit people say when they want it to be okay and it's not gonna be. Never gonna be. But they can't stand being powerless and so they lie to themselves and everyone around them to maintain the grand illusion.
He never knows what to do when Armand's crying. It's so... fucking human.
So fucking human it hurts.
A different shade of vulnerability on Armand than his laughter endows him. When Armand laughed—a genuine, full-body laugh—Daniel could see him as the witty, sweet-natured youth with a sharp tongue he must have been once upon a time. Strange to think that anyone who's ever seen that has been dead for half a thousand years, huh, Danny boy? He could almost imagine what Armand would've looked like with the sunlight kissing his skin, igniting the reddish highlights in his dark auburn hair, a constellation of freckles over the bridge of his nose and across his cheekbones. Stranger still to think of seeing his mouth open and no fangs in sight. And would you have loved him just the same? Daniel shuddered at the thought.
Yes, laughter was one thing, but crying? Tears?
The way Armand cried—silent and unblinking, unbreathing—made Daniel think of a child in some distinctly horrifying way. Made his heart wrench in two, his skin crawl, and the edges of his vision blur.
Because it's not the way some children cry when they scrap their knees on the pavement or wake up from a nightmare. Loud and visceral and sure to make Mom come running down the hall.
No, Armand cried like a child who had learned long ago there was no point in crying out loud. And staring into the quarter inch of water now in his glass, Daniel knew why.
He knew that cry; he'd cried that cry.
Hiding his closet, biting into his ratty teddy bear so that his father wouldn't hear and beat him for having the audacity to feel emotion the old man didn't know what to do with. And what had been the lesson? No wonder he didn't know how to comfort this creature he so loved. Dear God, you might as well be as emotionally stunned as that cankerous, old- 
Armand squirmed over Daniel's thighs then, snuggling into him as his eyes finally closed and his body gave. His smaller hand reaching for the one Daniel still had on his head.
A lingering kiss to his fingertips, a soft nudge against Daniel's brain: Thank you, lover. You are such a comfort to me.
It's okay.
Everything's okay.
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starrysnowdrop · 6 months
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Now and then I think of when we were together,
Like when you said you felt so happy you could die,
Told myself that you were right for me—
But that was love, and it's an ache I still remember.
I guess that I don't need that, though—
Now you're just somebody that I used to know.
x
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resident-gay-bitch · 7 months
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“james, love…” lily puts her hand soothingly on james’ thigh. it’s soft, and small, and smooth, and almost delicate in her touch. everything about lily is so right to james, in every sense.
but gosh, sometimes he wishes that hand were bigger, rougher, scarred and pale with long bony fingers and black chipped nail polish.
james doesn’t even know why he feels that way sometimes. he loves lily. he really fucking loves lily. she’s everything to him, and five times out of ten he’ll yearn for her hand and her touch and her love.
but those five other times…
fuck, it hurts. and it’s so goddamned confusing. james drives himself crazy thinking about it.
actually, he drives himself crazy trying not to think about it. he doesn’t want to think about it. he can’t hurt lily. she’s the love of his life. so wonderful, she is, the brightest witch of her age, and she’s sassy and challenges james and doesn’t put up with his arrogance but also loves when he gets a little snobby. she’s so wonderful, and his parents adore her, and they’re engaged. to be married!
james doesn’t think life could get much more perfect than her.
oh, but his heart, it’s a terrible fucking thing. it’s the worst thing in the world, he’s beginning to think.
everyone’s always told him he has the most pure heart they’ve ever seen, that he has so much love and wears it on his sleeve. james potter has a wonderful heart, so good and lovely.
but james potter thinks his heart is so horrible, the betrayer. why? why would it do this to him?
it loves lily so dearly, and he’s certain of that. so why does his heart race so fucking fast when those long bony fingers reach out and tickle his skin. why does it ache and yearn for james to look into ice grey eyes and embrace another? if his heart so full of good and love, why must it hate james so much?
his body quakes when her delicate touch gluides over the meat of his thigh, the covers kicked down to his shins. her nails are painted a pretty pale green colour, and they look lovely, sitting in the place where his boxers end. he usually loves the sight of her hand there, so perfectly placed, her freckled skin contrasting against the tan of his own.
but not tonight. not right now. right now it’s his hand that james wants to see there. it’s his bony pale fingers that james wants to see spread out over the thick muscle. it’s his touch james yearns for.
he convulses, caving in on himself more. he’s distraught, arms wrapped tight around his almost bare body, snot in his nose, hot cheeks covered in tear tracks, his glasses all foggy.
“love…” she whispers again, her perfect, sweet voice. james loves the way she chants his name, weather it be soft, or tender, or loud, or excited, or desperate, or angered. he loves it all. he loves how perfect the melody of everything she says sounds to him. but he wishes for the deeper baritone of someone else to call his name in all the same ways. someone who’s not supposed to call his name in all the same ways.
james can’t even look at her. cant bring himself to look at her. he can’t hurt her the way hes hurting himself. cant believe he’s feeling this way. it’s horrible, guilt sinking it’s claws into his chest and tugging everything out until there’s nothing left but empty pain.
he can’t tell her, or she’ll leave him.
he can’t tell him, or everything will be wrong.
he can’t lie, or he’ll feel even more guilty.
he can’t be honest, or things will get messy.
he can’t rot like this forever, or hill drive himself to insanity.
they’re getting married next week, for fucks sake. and james loves her so much, and he’s so happy, and so excited. they’ve been taking about kids, about life. james got so excited about the thought, he impulsively bought a tiny pair of baby sneakers he saw in the store one afternoon.
so why is it, on his bucks night, of all nights, that he’s getting cold feet? why is it now just hitting him harder than it ever had before, these horribly betraying feelings?
had it been because those ice grey eyes looked at james with such pure affection and softness it made his heart want to explode? had it been because calloused hands felt good wrapped around james’ biceps as he had to be hauled back up to bed? had it been then kiss left on james’ forehead from pretty pink lips that didn’t belong to his fiancé? had it been the quiet words muttered into the night, when james was presumedly asleep, that had been playing on an insistent loop since they’d been whispered?
she can give you everything i can’t, amour. be happy, please.
or did it only really hit him, how horrible this all is, when he heard lily get home right as he was leaving. when he heard them talking downstairs, unable to decipher what they were saying, but sobered enough in the head to know they were talking for a while, taking about good things and bad.
or is it worse, because james feels the way he does, and he knows it’s bad and that he shouldn’t think on it, but sometimes he notices those ice grey eyes drift over to look at the soft curves of lilys figure? is it anger, he feels, for his friend to look at his fiancé like that? is it jealousy that he feels, when he notices her looking back? or is he jealous that those ice grey eyes aren’t always set on james?
“james.” lily whispers once more, moving herself closer to him on the bed, her hand shifting from his thigh to his cheek where she wiped his tears and held him. her makeups smudged, her hairs all messy, and he has a gaudy feather boa on. she wanted an all muggle henz night, and it looks like she had a wonderful one. and now james was here, ruining it because his heart yearns for a second.
why isn’t she enough for him? why can’t she be enough?
“i’m sorry, love.” james splutters out, surprised he can actually string his words together.
“oh, jamie.” she whispered, the soft pad of her thumb swipes over his wet cheek, flicking away more tears as they spilled. she leant in close to kiss his forehead, so delicate and warm, her kisses. so perfect. not enough. she smells like champagne, and sweat, and her floral perfume. it’s nice, comforting, it’s her and assurance she had a good night.
james sobbs more, they rip through him like waves; a never ending stream washing him away, and he aches.
“i love you so much, darling.” she whispers again, “and you love me?”
oh, more than anything he’s ever loved, almost. besides that one other incessant, irritable, beautiful, perfect disaster. he loves the both of them equally, he thinks, which is wrong. it’s so wrong. pick one, he tells himself. you can only love one person at a time.
“of course.” he nods, bottom lip wobbling as he speaks. “oh, i love you so much, lily, you have no idea-“
“i know, my love.” she smiles, so pretty, so perfect. “but your heart… it’s not only mine, is it?”
james stills, his said heart stops still in his chest. he isn’t entirely sure he’s actually breathing for a very long while. how would she know such a thing? how can she know? how- how… oh how?
“oh, my love.” she giggles, so softly. it sounds so familiar, like a warm summer breeze, and it settles something deep in james’ chest. it provides him comfort, as she always does, and he breathes again. “don’t panic. i’ve known for a while- for years, james. before we started going out, you know?”
“i’m so sorry.” he breaks, slumping into her arms and almost wailing against her chest. she holds him tight, soothing her hand over his back and petting him there, another hand sifting through his hair as she kisses his crown. she’d make a wonderful mother some day, james knows it. but now he’s gone and fucked it up, hasn’t he? “i don’t want to hurt you, i love you, lily, so much-“
“i know, james.” she sighed, kissing his crown once more, “you don’t have to be scared. not with me. you know you can tell me these things? i’ve been waiting for you to tell me years, thought maybe once we tied the knot you would.”
“you’re not… mad at me?” james peaks up at her, his eyes stinging from crying so much, his glasses askew. “why are you not mad at me?”
he’s terribly lost right now, his heart practically on another planet already with how fast it’s moving.
“you can love more than one person, james, and still have your love be pure.” she smiled, so sweetly, so pretty. he wants to kiss her, but thinks this is hardly the time for that. “you can love anyone you desire, as much as you desire. i know your heart is mine, i just share it with sirius, is all.”
hearing her speak his name like that, it’s unsettling at first. it makes james jolt back in shock, looking at her through eyes blown wide. she was never meant to know, no one was ever supposed to know. it’s weird, now she knows- she’s always known, apparently. but since he’s been made aware. why isn’t she angry? why isn’t she saying his name with such distain?
why does she speak his name like it’s something tender, like he’s precious? why does she sound out each letter the same way james would?
“you’re not a terrible person, james. please know that. i only waited so long to bring it up because i wanted you to feel good about it. but i can see it getting to you…” she sighed, smoothing her soft hands over his shoulders, “i love you so very much, no matter how many other people i share your heart with. i think it’s wonderful, how you can love me so strongly and still have more to give. don’t you think it’s wonderful? you do really have the biggest heart.”
james doesn’t know how to feel right now. he doesn’t know what this means. she loves him, still. is glad, perhaps? he’s baffled, actually. and he must show it, because she laughs so brightly at him and wipes the last of his sticky tears away before kissing him kindly.
james sinks into her wonderful, wonderful kiss. oh, she really is brilliant, his lily.
the brightest witch for certain.
“you relax, my love. lay down.” she mutters, pushing james back to lie under the covers again, folding his glasses for him and setting them on his bedside, “i’m going to put on a spot of tea, and then we’ll lay together for a while, and we’ll talk more in the morning about what it all will mean, okay?”
“okay.” james muttered, closing his heavy eyes.
oh he really loves his lily.
he must have fallen asleep, because one minuet she’s laying him into bed and the next she’s making him sip a hot cup of tea. his glasses stay off, too tired to worry much about seeing, too drunk to process much else anyway. he sips his tea, and she sips hers, and smiles at him softly.
“i love you so much, james.” she whispers to him, taking his teacup and setting it on his bedside table. “let’s sleep?”
she doesn’t give him time to argue, shoving him over into the centre of the bed. rather than climbing into her own side, she crawls under the covers on james’ and curls in at his side.
but james can’t focus much on the soft curve of lily, or her pretty smile, or the inviting smell of her; there’s another body climbing into bed behind him.
“shhh…” lily whispers, taking james chin and turning him to face her, as he startled. she kisses his lips again and wipes away the confused furrow of his brow. “not now, love. just relax, okay. let us hold you, we’ll talk tomorrow.”
james nods and turns to look at the other body, and finds pale skin and ice grey eyes looking down on him softly.
“would you like me to hold you, jamie?” he whispers, and james’ heart burns with how fast it’s beating.
james nods, too delirious to question it, if he’s honest. it’s not as if they don’t cuddle, regularly. it’s just… this is a little different, he suspects. lily has this look on her face, like she’s meddling, like she’s happy to be meddling.
james usually loves when she meddles, so he can only assume this is something good. he doesn’t have to worry now, they’ll talk about it in the morning.
for now, he lays his head on his pillow and wraps his arms tight around lily, their legs slotting together with ease, a position they have mastered. she’s curled into his chest, her forehead pressed against the flesh of his, and her hair tucked under his chin.
but tonight another set of arms wrap around them. strong biceps and ink blead into pale skin lay over james’ own. those long bony fingers skate over the back of james’ palm, the one that rests on the meaty flesh of lilys lower back, and they slot between his own. a strong jaw tucks itself over james’ shoulder and nuzzles there, warm breath fanning over his neck.
it’s sirius, pressed up against his back, spooning james whilst he holds his fiancé. it’s so oddly comforting to be sandwiched between the pair, his heart never had felt quite so full.
lily shoots her hand up and shoves sirius’ face away, and she tiredly groans. “your breath smells like cigarettes, dog-boy. don’t breathe on me, or i will kick you out.”
sirius snickers, and james utterly loves the sound. it contrasts the melody of lilys laugh quite strongly, and perhaps lily is right; maybe it is kind of beautiful how his heart can love two entirely different things, so intently, and so equally.
“please don’t kick me out.” sirius grumbles, tucking his face behind james’ shoulder and kissing him there. james’ heart positively somersaults. “i’ll probably have a bigger meltdown than james,” james kicks his foot back against sirius’ ankle, and he laughs before continuing, “i love you both terribly.”
this time lily is the one to kick sirius, right between james’ legs, “shh! don’t ruin it!”
sirius kicked her back, “he’s so drunk, he won’t even remember, mrs. potter.”
“he’s significantly more sober now, dipshit.” she muttered, “sorry, jamie, go to sleep.”
“oh…” sirius muttered, pressing his face into the back of james’ neck, “sorry, prongsie boy. we’ll, ah… we’ll talk more tomorrow. but you can understand, right? waiting so long and all-“
“shut up, pads.” james groaned, hoping neither of them could notice the red smatter of blush on his face or the lovestruck grin he had plastered to his lips, “i’m trying to sleep.”
“right.” sirius muttered, and shut his trap.
silence lulled over the room again, and james mind was so heavy, so desperate to sleep. however, his heart was hyperactive.
this was something.
oh, this had to be something entirely wonderful.
he wasn’t sure he could wait till morning to talk about it further. he just had to get one last word in before he let himself sleep.
“i love you both terribly too, i suppose.”
james fell asleep feeling much better than he had before, lily and sirius sandwiching him in; the shared warmth of their body’s settling comfortably over james. they were here, now, all of them, together. james and lily love eachother, and by the looks of things james and sirius love eachother too; and perhaps even lily and sirius might. but either way, james’ heart is too fucking full of love and he never intends on ridding himself of that.
they both pressed pretty little kisses to james skin in sync, and james certainly dreamed much more wonderful things than he had in a while.
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silverskye13 · 3 months
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Do you ever delete anything in your delete later tag or is it all a joke?
Yes. Frequently. Normally it's just with my art reblogs, but I will comb through and delete the majority of the tag sometimes.
Gonna be real honest, the Delete Later tag is there for my mental health. I go through periods of? Reckless depression? Impulsive bad vibes? Compelled destruction? [Vague hand wave]. Anyway, I've been known to scroll through my blog with the urge to delete everything. My original coping mechanism was tearing paper, but it doesn't scratch the itch the same way a delete button could. So I made a safe space to delete things.
Sometimes I decide later that I wanted to keep the delete later item(s), but 9 times out of 10 I follow through and purge them.
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itsrexxyo · 1 year
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someone’s gonna pay for this.
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becca-e-barnes · 1 year
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OKAY but the thought of steve being so confident and cocky about the way you react when he’s fucking you is literally making me SWEAT. like that man is so polite and so humble but just turns into an absolute cocky, almost arrogant???, MENACE when he sees your brain absolutely break while he has his dick in you 🥵🥵🥵
Looooooook, I don’t know what makes this so unbelievably hot but I love the thought of him being so arrogant in bed 😵‍💫
He’s an absolute sweetheart most of the time, he’s kind and considerate and thoughtful and he looks like a fucking angel.
But in bed, he’s a totally different person and he’s entirely set on proving that you just can’t handle how well he fucks you. And you’re totally okay with that.
Because he loves to watch your face. He loves watching the war behind your eyes when every one of his punishing thrusts knock the thoughts from your head. There’s something about seeing you go from a little mouthy brat to a cock drunk whimpering mess that makes him so proud of himself.
“Oh come on, baby. Just tell me it’s too much for you. Tell me you can’t handle it and I’ll stop.” And fuck, it is too much but in the very best way. He punctuates each sentence with a sharp thrust, slamming each and every inch into your body recklessly because he knows you’re more than happy to take it.
You won’t give in though. It feels far too good to ask him to stop but even just the thought of having to admit he’s right makes you tense.
You shake your head, a quiet groan escaping your lips on the next thrust because he knows exactly what he’s doing. He feels perfect. So perfect, you’re almost dizzy and you can hear that you’re embarrassingly wet.
“Go on, sweetheart. Either go all stupid for me or tell me to stop. This fat cock feels nice, doesn’t it? It’ll feel even better when I’m cumming right against your cervix. We both know that’s when you’re happiest. When I’m filling you so full of cum, you can’t move without it spilling. No one fucks you like I can. No one else knows how filthy that little head of yours is. You look so pretty when you’ve cum on my cock more times than your brain can handle and we both know that no one else can get you like that.” You didn’t even know he had this arrogance in him but you’re not complaining in the slightest because the man is right.
Before you have a chance to answer through your soft sobs and quiet pleas, he’s laid his thumb gently over your lips, giving you the opportunity to suck on it gently, stifling your broken whimpers while your eyes roll back.
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detentiontrack · 5 months
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Do you guys think that Anne would ever wish that the guardian had never brought her back during times of depression and guilt from amphibia after she got back home
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skybrightpixie · 5 months
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the inherent guilt that comes with loving you
im on a Tóm torturing kick lately, woohoo!! specifically: did u know it's hard to be honest with the person ur in love with about that fact that you have murdered a lot of people. like more than can be counted on one hand.
it's true! it's almost like there are consequences to your actions.
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snowgrieve · 10 months
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late night angst thoughts of dess coming back from the void and not being able to accommodate back to her 'old life' in town because everything is SO different now. her sister's all grown up, she's not the same anymore and dess doesn't know how to act around her anymore, everything just feels kind of forced and awkward despite the fact that they missed each other so much. after so long trying to get back to each other again, the lingering question of 'what now?' rests between the two sisters, and no one dares to ask the other first. dess and asriel reconnected a bit when she got back, but everything is different because he managed to live without her for so long, he has another life now in college and everything is different. and kris. i don't know how it would be with kris. i feel like somehow for some reason nothing would change between them but they would also have another type of bond with each other that i cannot name..
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tip for writers: working on a fic on the day that taylor releases a new album might not be the best idea unless you're okay with going angstier than planned because your poor soul has been tortured and stepped on
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f1-stuff · 2 years
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Austrian GP ‘22 // Post-sprint press con
Not a lot of smiles today...
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badolmen · 1 year
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I still drive my grandma’s Subaru.
I wonder sometimes - would she hate me?
Could she love me?
She never knew me; dead before I had a body I hated. Buried before I knew the word for wanting to die by my own hand.
Could she love a stranger?
A stranger who murdered her grandchild and wears their skin like a trophy?
Would she hate me? Would she hate me? Would she hate me?
And I cry - could you love me?
And I cry
Because she is crying.
Of course not.
How could I?
How could you think that I would?
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voltrixz · 1 month
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Transgender thoughts about electro tonight….
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loifa-keeper · 1 year
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"For all the power and sacrifice.... I couldn't do a damn thing."
"We who survived had been more than cured. We'd been given unnatural powers. I was twice as strong as any man, and could channel magicks with ease."
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