#i have been thinking about this for a while and i just have to vent about this awesome dude like he's so fucking nice

[mochinomnoms]

Mochi, mochi! Hear me out. I love the shrimpy-mer Yuu chronicles, and PTM, and just *kicks feet*

So, let's just imagine. Every relationship has its ups and downs right? Maybe our shrimp has an argument with their eels. Maybe one of the guys hurt their shrimpies feelings. Maybe it was a dumb fight. So Yuu needs a break and maybe some comforting.

If we're going octo poly they go and hang out with Azul. Lots of comfort cuddles in a cozy spot, wrapped up Azul's tentacles while he lets you vent.

Or .. what if you got the rest of the families(s) involved. We kind of can already tell the twins are spoiled by their parents, but I just picture in my mind that Shrimpy/Yuu is adored by the Leech parents, especially Mama leech. So you got Yuu hanging out with Mama or Papa and the next thing you know they're sharing stories about dumb fights they had when they were courting or giving advice dealing with their sons "oh yeah, one time I pissed her off when I was trying to court her so she bit me in the tail hard, still have the scar!" "Listen, give him the cutest pout possible and Floyd will crumble, trust me, he won't admit it but he's just like his dad when it comes to cute things."

or or! Let's get Mama or even Grandma Ashengrotto involved. What's Mama's best comforting method? Food of course! Sharing food is love under the sea after all. Mama Ashengrotto cooking up comfort food. She cooks so much(Yuu's so tiny, please eat!) Sends Yuu home with leftovers, but tells them no sharing with the twins until they apologized.

Grandma Ashengrotto! If I remember correctly she's good at magic/potions and was teaching Azul when he was younger. So Yuu ends up hanging out with grandma. Hugging one of her tentacles as she's working something in the cauldron. Maybe grandma's got some sass(I love me some sassy old lady), "You know, I could send you home with a couple potions. Lot easier to handle a mer if he's the size of your palm..." "Nana no!" "I'm just saying!"

Ah they're so cute too! I think that the boys are each mama's boys and have always been attached to their hips. Mama Leech has been repeatedly referred to as a worrywart, checking in on her boys nearly daily (?) to make sure they're safe. And while we haven't heard as much about Mama Ashengrotto, Azul has mentioned having a close relationship to her, so it's safe to assume they're pretty attached. They're stark defenders of their boys.

They're also fairly aware of what their sons can be like, and are quick to coddle you over them. It's quite sweet, their sons think, until they realize that Mama is showing just a bit of favoritism and telling you all the ways to make him melt into your arms again. Ah, but can they really be mad when their spouse is fitting into their family so well? Plus, they can never really stay mad at you for long for silly arguments, you just too cute sometimes!

#mochi asks #twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #jade leech x reader #floyd leech x reader

[lowkeyren]

unrequited love...not!

in which — wriothesley is smitten with you just as you are with him. but you think he's in love with another woman, so sigewinne plays cupid (she's sick and tired of u guys) 

pairing — wriothesley x gn!reader

ੈ✩‧₊˚ fluff, wc: ~900, no thoughts just sweet wrio, ty guys sm for the support so far xx love yall!!! likes n reblogs r appreciated <3

to say that wriothesley is heads over heels for you is an understatement. this man has been lovestruck ever since the day he laid his eyes on you. and he wasn't the type to be secretive about his massive crush on you, in fact; it's practically common knowledge for everyone in the fortress. sigewinne can only sigh and shake her head in disappointment every time she sees wriothesley showing his not-so-subtle affection to you (and you being blissfully unaware of the heat that rises up on his neck everytime you even show a hint of a smile) from afar. either way, it seems like wriothesley's feelings are no secret to anyone but you.

well it's not like you were completely clueless…. it's just that, the almighty duke of the fortress is an undeniably charismatic man, it's no surprise that many women flock to him like moths to a flame. and you weren't any different. truth to be told, you found yourself too, unable to resist his charms. each time he flirted with you, your heart raced without fail, cheeks flushed, and brain short circuiting, overwhelmed by his presence. —he never fails to notice your every reaction, catching every subtle flicker of expression, let it be the twitch of your lips when you try not to laugh at his jokes or the raise of your eyebrows when he mentions a topic that piques your interest. knowing that he also has this effect on you reassures him, that you felt the same way too… or do you? 

wriothesley sighed as he put down his teacup, closing his eyes and resting his head in his hands, eyebrows furrowed. what's gotten into you..? you have yet to visit him for the last 3 days, and frankly, he missed you. were you intentionally avoiding him? but to him it was clear that your feelings are mutual— you liked him and he liked you. 

though for you, it might have been a little more complicated. 

"well, care to explain? what happened between you guys…" sigewinne puts down the half used bandage wrap and turns to face you with a questioning look. 

"h-huh what do you mean…? everything's perfectly fine." you smiled and feigned ignorance —so poorly that sigewinne saw right through you the moment you opened your mouth. "tell me everything." she shoots you a pointed look. when you start talking again, she shows a hint of a smile that goes unnoticed by you. 

"i guess there's no point in avoiding this anymore… look, it may sound stupid to you but the other day, i saw wriothesley together with clorinde. i was about to go up to them, but! they seemed really happy together and i didn't wanna interrupt… they're quite close with each other so i thought they were in some kind of relationship, and i didn't wanna interfere with my own feelings… since clorinde is also a dear friend of mine after all." 

unbeknownst to you, while you were busy recounting, wriothesley had quietly entered and stood near the entrance. he could not wrap his head around why you would think that he could possibly be in cahoots with fontaine's champion duelist. sure they may be good friends but— he thought he made it clear that he wants you, and you only.

just as he was about to speak up, sigewinne butted in: "hey, so what you're saying is that you like him too?" with your head still hanging low, being too engrossed in this whole venting session, you have yet to notice wriothesley presence nor the ever glowing mischievous glint in sigewinne's eyes. 

"you need not to be so blunt…then if i must admit, yes i do like hi- huh? what do you mean "too" ?!"

as you stumbled over your own words, you made eye contact with wriothesley who was still frozen in the doorway. you could feel your heart racing, seeing the prominent flush on his cheeks —and yours too, you finally realize the truth of your mutual affection. 

sigewinne quickly excuses herself but not before discreetly giving you a playful wink and a thumbs up to wriothesley. 

"out of all possible ways, i did not expect you to confess your feelings in the midst of an unexpected revelation." wriothesley walked towards you with a huge smirk on his face, having finally got the confirmation that he has been longing for, from the very person he has been pining for since day one. 

you know he's teasing you even at a time like this so you too pretend to be unaffected, tilting your head to the left and folding your arms across your chest. 

"hmph... you should be oh so relieved now that you know your feelings are reciprocated." 

"yes of course darling. i feel complete whenever you are by my side. and i haven't been more happy than i am at this moment."

his words are sincere, a striking contrast to just a few seconds ago. you chuckled softly, feeling a warmth spread through you as you reached up to cup his face, with a cheeky smile: 

"just ask me the question already!" 

with a grin, wriothesley leans in closer to you, eyes sparkling with affection, the air tensing with pure sweetness. 

"will you be mine?"

ੈ✩‧₊˚ masterlist

#—stellaronhvnters. #wriothesely x reader #wriothesley #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin fanfic #genshin fluff #wrio x reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x gn reader #wriothesley x you #wriothesley x y/n #wriothesley fanfic

[lynk-zee]

how do you think a fight would take place with lads boys? like how it progresses and then silent treatment and the yearning to make up and actually making up

Fights

Warnings: Angsty with a blip of spice in Rafayel’s part. Happy endings because I don’t want to be sad anymore 🥲

Fights with Zayne are almost always about your health. How you’re not sleeping enough or eating right, despite the advice he gives you. He may be your boyfriend but he’s also your doctor. He just wants the best for you.

The silent treatment starts on his end, giving you one worded answers and generally ignoring you. If you didn’t care about your health, why should he? Except, it would progress worse and worse because you’re both stubborn-headed, to the point he decided to go home instead of staying over at your place like usual. It was then you conceded defeat.

Yes, he was worried about your health and safety, as both a doctor and a boyfriend. But he didn’t have to be so right…

In the end, you guys come to a compromise. You’ll get a normal amount of sleep, and he’ll lay off scolding you. Fights with Zayne aren’t without valid reasons. But, you guys always end up talking it out in the end.

Oh boy. Fights with Rafayel? Explosive. They’re mostly because of his flirty nature and the fact he can’t seem to take anything seriously. As a Hunter protecting Linkon City, you have to be steadfast and vigilant. Rafayel takes things by the moment with little thought or control, like a dumpster on fire. It gets worse when he brushes you off.

I think the fight wouldn’t officially start until you get back at him for being overly flirty with a patron. You decided to flirt with an art critic in front of him, fueling the fire for a later fight. The night continues with petty passes and glares across the room. When you get home, all hell breaks loose.

Screaming match, barely coherent, words that couldn’t be taken back. It’s a wonder you guys are still together. When you tear up and finally had enough, you grab your coat to leave when he grabs you by your shirt and yanks you in for a smoldering kiss.

Makeup sex ensues. Clothes are practically burned off as you vent out your frustrations through each others bodies. In the morning your both groggy, but have a clearer head than last night, able to talk things through more effectively. He loves you and you love him— your love can be too fiery for your own good. But that doesn’t mean you don’t try to work through it.

Fighting with Xavier can be hard because he genuinely doesn’t understand why you’re so mad at him. Yes, he disappeared for a week without telling you, but he was hunting Wanderers. Isn’t that such a noble cause that it negates the fact you were mad at him in the first place? Turns out no, because you want to be communicated with and not scared half to death when you don’t hear from him for a week.

It’s hard to stay mad at him, but you have to stay strong. If this relationship was going to work, he needed to communicate with you. You laid down your boundaries now it was his turn to understand and accept. But until then, silent treatment.

Xavier would end up at your door looking like a kicked puppy. It had been four days into the silent treatment— how did he like that? Not being communicated with, pacing back and forth wondering if your partner was safe? It wasn’t fun, huh? He would apologize, admitting he was wrong for disappearing while desperately waiting for a long needed hug from his significant other. You give it to him, happy he understood your feelings.

Perhaps you could have handled things better, but you’re learning. Xavier’s learning too! You just have to explain it to him in a way he’ll understand.

#☀️l&ds #⭐️l&ds #love & deepsace x reader #rafayel x reader #xavier x reader #zayne x reader

[theonceandfuturequeenoftarts]

Harry really should’ve expected something like this, but he’s still bewildered.

(And more than a little pissed off.)

Of course some bastard managed to enter him as the fifth champion in the Triwizard Tournament.

...Well. There are four schools participating, but “Quadwizard Tournament” doesn’t have the same ring to it.

There are several people shouting at each other and him in a variety of languages, and while he has no idea what they’re saying, he gets the gist of it: how did this scrawny fifth year have the audacity to trick the Goblet of Fire and enter the prestigious (and deadly) tournament?

He wishes they’d ask him so he could clear up that he hadn’t done that, and he doesn’t want to take part in this tournament, and they’re all being world-class prats right now.

Well. Except for Cedric Diggory. He just looks a bit confused, bless him.

Dumbledore asks him if he put his name in, and he says no, and maybe he overestimated these people because pretty much all of them scoff and don’t believe him. 

The Koldovstoretz champion’s voice cuts through the hullabaloo and says, in barely accented English, “If he is required to participate, why not let him forfeit?”

Thank Merlin, there’s a voice of reason in all this idiocy.

All eyes turn to the tall young man – Tom Riddle, Harry’d heard the name said by his love-struck peers enough times since the other schools arrived to remember it – who looks politely disinterested in the chaos around him.

“That sounds good to me,” Harry says, hoping that’ll be the end of it.

But of course it isn’t. 

The Durmstrang headmaster sneers something that sounds awfully rude at Riddle in a language Harry doesn’t recognise, which makes the boy tense and darkens his eyes. And then the shouting starts up again.

For all that the gathered headmistresses and headmasters and students were arguing against his participation before, they’re now demanding that he take responsibility and not besmirch the tournament’s prestigious history nor the Goblet’s choice by bowing out. Harry is once again of the opinion that there is no continuity or logic in the thinking of magical people, so he zones out like he does when Uncle Vernon wants to rant at him.

As the group finally quiets down and Dumbledore explains what the next steps are for the champions, Harry tunes back in to listen with half an ear. The other schools’ representatives send him dark looks as they depart, while Cedric gives him a pensive frown. Dumbledore ignores Harry’s attempts to catch his eye and disappears as soon as the discussion ends.

Well that’s just great.

Harry decides to head back to the Gryffindor common room – he needs to vent his anger at this madness to his friends, who will hopefully have his back.

(Though, the look on Ron’s face when Harry’s name had been called… No. Ron knows him better than that.)

Before he gets too far, he hears a voice call, “Harry Potter.”

He turns reluctantly, hoping it’s not another person ready to call him an attention-seeker or cheat, to find Tom Riddle.

Feeling his shoulders lower from his ears where they’d risen in pre-emptive defensiveness, Harry manages a half-hearted smile for the older boy. “Hey. Thanks for trying to help, back there.”

Riddle shrugs and somehow makes the motion elegant. “It was obvious you did not want to be chosen." 

Harry thought so, but apparently they're the only two of that opinion. “What did the Durmstrang headmaster say to you?”

“Nothing I didn’t expect,” Riddle says dismissively. When Harry doesn’t relent, he clarifies, “Igor Karkaroff rejected my application to Durmstrang because I’m not a pureblood. I’m sure you can imagine his opinion of me – and my blood – hasn’t changed in the intervening years.”

Harry can feel his hackles rise. Yes, he can imagine – he’s heard what the pureblood bigots have said about Hermione and the other muggleborn students over the years.

“Well, there’s only one thing to do, isn’t there?” Harry says, grinning sharply. “We’ll both just have to–” absolutely crush them all “–prove them all wrong.”

Riddle’s eyebrows rise slightly and one side of his mouth twitches. “I suppose we will.”

Harry holds out a hand. “May the best champion win.”

Riddle accepts the handshake. “Indeed. I’m glad to have your support.” 

Delivered in a perfect deadpan, it takes Harry a couple moments to realise the other boy is making a joke. He laughs, and Riddle finally lets his face break into a grin.

—

When Riddle uses parseltongue to get past the Peruvian Vipertooth (“What were they thinking, including a human-eating dragon?” Hermione demands when Harry first sees her after the first task) and retrieves the egg in less than two minutes, it causes an uproar. How did someone with Slytherin’s gift, who was born on British soil, not end up going to Hogwarts? The details of Riddle’s first introduction to magic and meeting with Professor Dumbledore are splashed across the front page of the Daily Prophet the following day.

Needless to say, the headmaster is in a bit of hot water with the Hogwarts board of trustees and the pureblood crowd.

(Karkaroff is looking decidedly pale, too.)

Harry thinks he’s the only one who sees the vengeful grin on Riddle’s face while everyone else is staring at Dumbledore getting dressed down. When Harry congratulates Riddle later that day, he knows the older boy understands it’s for more than just retrieving the egg the fastest.

(As for his performance in the first task, Harry’s content with how he did against the Hungarian Horntail, even if he’d gotten a little singed. He might be in second place, but he’s nipping at Riddle’s heels.)

#harry potter #tom riddle #tomarrymort #koldovstoretz tom beloved #triwizard tournament #same-ish age au #tom isn't joking

[collectivenothingness]

You're a random based stranger but I need to vent real quick. I'm losing my mind, I feel like every day misogyny seeps more into circles I'm in. Queer spaces don't give a fuck and perpetuate it with nice flowery progressive language.

I can't do this anymore, all the conversations about being a woman are taken over or watered down by men, everything had to be about men, men are the most oppressed, men suffer from the patriarchy, it's never men's fault, you're a misandrist, men men men.

I genuinely can't do this it's so sad in queer circles to see this and I hear my friends do this too. I just had a conversation with a friend who is a queer trans woman and who said it's ok for leftist men to be misogynistic against TERFSs, like no!!! This is getting terrifying even if youre not a TERF!!!! I don't want men to have more ground to be misogynistic without questioning themselves. I'm genuinely tired of the whole "white women" "straight women" loops they find.

Just urgh. I feel like I'm surrounded by people who should know better and everytime I point out misogyny I get told that I'm seeing things.

I'm sorry to hear, anon. That is very alienating, yeah :(

The thing is that most progressive people don't really believe in social classes or power dynamics between them or systems of oppression. They believe in ideas and archetypes and good stories instead.

They use the same language but to them misogyny or racism just mean suffering mistreatment because of some characteristics you have, so they are open to misandry and narratives about how men have been neglected and left behind.

You and I might think of the patriarchy as a social structure of oppression directed from one group against another, but they don't. Patriarchy is explained conspiratorially as the work of only a small elite or as an unpersonal gestalt that arises from the system with no individual truly at fault or perhaps it's the fault of men and women equally.

Or they may briefly recognize some talking point they heard to discard the idea of social power dynamics altogether, "gender is fake" after all. They might think in terms of sex-based oppression because it's "based in nature"; all while having TERFs DNI in their bio of course. Bioessentialism is a big one in general and it crops up again and again and again. Everywhere.

Oppression Olympics is a loaded term but a lot of people really do conceptualize your suffering that way. You get scored based on which characteristics you are oppressed on, weighted by their beliefs about which are worse, which is based on their impressions of the vibes they get from discourse. Just being a woman rarely cuts it now, especially because MRAs can just sell them the right talking points and they'll swallow them up because it's all the same to them. Heard vs. Depp. They just want a good story.

And since misogyny is just a targeted aggression, where is the harm in letting a redeemed man use it against an evil woman, right? Isn't that what justice is? lol.

Let's cut it here though. It's tiring stuff.

#ask

[604to647]

Hat Trick - Part 2 (The Playoffs)

3.4K / Safest with You AU Retired Mob Enforcer!Din Djarin x fem!reader

Summary: Din eats you out while you watch a playoffs game. That’s it.

Warnings: 18+ content (MDNI please) F!oral, fingering, nearing overstimulation, dirty talk, pet names as usual (pretty bird, baby, sweetheart, etc.), m!masterbation, established relationship. Inadvertent hockey double entendres, possibly.

A/N: Vancouver won last night so I thought I should post this while they’re up 😂 Inspired by @beskarandblasters’s I Want It, I got It and @swiftispunk’s ask(s) from @arainbowsiren - thank y’all and your respective mens for their service 🫡🫡🤗. You can if you want, of course 😊 but no need to read Part 1, as it’s not a direct continuation. Anyways, go Canucks go! 🏒🏒

If dread is defined as “painful agitation in the presence or anticipation of danger,” then for the entirety of your relationship, Din has never dreaded seeing you.  Not when either of you has had one of those bad day at work where you just need to vent for hours afterwards, or when Jimmy had accidentally used a sweater you left in Din’s office to towel off after a sparring session, or even that time Din took Al to the dog park by himself and didn’t realize the other dog moms were flirting with him until one of them shoved her number into his hand.  Nope, it didn’t matter what nonsense was going on while you were apart, the moment he looks upon his pretty bird’s face, Din’s day automatically takes a turn for the better.

But these past few weeks, Din feels like it’s possible he’s being tested in this regard.  Still not dread… maybe some mild foreboding?  That sounds bad, he thinks.  He’s worried is what he is.

Your hockey team is in the playoffs, and at first you were thrilled.  But your excitement has quickly given way to a much more volatile emotional cocktail of anticipation, nervousness and agitation.  If anything, you’re the one who’s been in a state of dread.

The first round was okay.  Your team won the series 4-1; it was a little nerve-wracking after Game 2, but the team rallied and after some nail-biting overtime games, they prevailed.  At your encouragement, he had hosted the series at his place since neither of you were able to get any tickets for the home games.  You had readily cooked up a storm in the kitchen to work out your pregame nerves, and your friends and the Mandos came over to reaped the culinary benefits of your stress. 

Your friends already knew this about you, of course, but Din is learning that playoffs you is very different from regular season you.  Regular season you loves hockey.  Playoffs you loves winning.

You’re the personification of nail-biting anxiety during every game; eyes glued to the screen, barely eating or drinking except during commercials or intermissions.  Every missed shot on goal results in shouting and arms raised in frustration.  Ever unanswered check on your players, vexation and name calling.  Power plays or offensive drives that can't be capitalized on have you covering your face in defeat.

His pretty bird stresses.

It’s not all bitterness and disappointment, thankfully.  Your face when your team scores lights up entire the room.  Every save your goalie makes has you cheering in elation, high fiving everyone in sight with enthusiasm.  When your team wins, your cute butt won’t stop wiggling with victory dance moves.

But the good cannot come without the bad.  Penalties called against your team trigger a spitting of expletives Din didn’t think were possible from your sweet mouth.  Holes in your defense that the other team exploits have you calling for someone’s head (the coach? The team captain?  Din’s??!)

Every game is a rollercoaster of emotions.

Oh.  And if your team loses… it’s like a dark cloud materializes over your head.  Your mood is already gloomy when the final buzzer sounds, improving only to pouty and restless by the time you start nearing the next game.

Din doesn’t like to see you so stressed (over a game, he might add, if he didn’t seriously fear the repercussions of saying that out loud to you).

Round 2 has been… interesting.  No, that's too forgiving.  It’s been… a nightmare.  You team is down 1-3 in the series and tonight is Game 5.  The make-or-break game that will either eliminate your team from the playoffs, or let them live to fight another game where they can attempt to claw their way to a decider seventh game.  After winning the series opener, the team’s three consecutive losses have left you nearly despondent - your mood getting progressively worse with every loss.  It’s not that you were mean or snappish – you were still kind and helpful, and all sweetness with Din and his friends.  But you smile a lot less and your playfulness is missing; you tell less jokes and your laughter, if any, is shorter and less vibrant than it is normally.  This past week, there’s been an ever present tension in your body that doesn’t seem to melt away no matter how much affection Din shows you, and you’re constantly furrowing your brow at things you read on your phone. 

When you start to make the grocery list for what you need to prepare the spread for Game 5, you call out to Din, “Baby, is Mayfeld going to come over for the game?  If he is, I’ll have to get parsley for the garlic knots.”

“Oh… pretty bird, I think most of the guys are going to go to a sports bar for Game 5,” Din says with a bit a trepidation.  He doesn’t say that he was the one who had made the suggestion that they do so, thinking it was unnecessary pressure for you to host a viewing party.  When Woves and Mayfeld had complained, Din reminded them about how they had both spilled beer all over the carpet during a goal celebration during the last game.  He had found you at 2 a.m. taking out your frustration over the loss with a brush, scrubbing the carpet vigorously on your hands and knees until he had managed to coax you back to bed for what was ultimately a night of restless tossing and turning.

“Did you want to go too?” you ask, wide-eyed.

“Nah, let’s just relax and watch here, baby,” Din’s smile is easy going, “I’ll order in, okay?  No need to make food.  It can just be a relaxing time.”  He hopes he isn’t emphasizing the word relax too much.

You look at him for a beat and nod, before going back to the grocery list.  Din exhales a little breath of relief. 

Game 5 is not going well.

Your team is leading in shots on goal, but just can’t seem convert shots to goals.  Din thinks it’s almost worse watching your body tense up in excitement, just to deflate in disappointment, over and over.  The opposing team doesn’t seem to have the same problem – scoring two goals in quick succession during the first ten minutes of the game that have you flopping back onto the coach, heels of your palms pressed to your eyes as you groan in pain. 

At the first intermission, your team is trailing 0-3 and Din hides (?) in the kitchen while you call Rory and Katie, and the three of you bemoan and rant about the last period over speakerphone.  You pace the same route throughout the apartment so many times, Din wouldn’t be surprised if you actually wore a path. 

He reemerges from the kitchen just as the second period is about to start and sees that you’re already perched on the edge of the couch, elbows on your knees, hands holding your own face as you stare at the television intently.

The puck drops just as Din places a plate of food on the coffee table in front of you, and you look at him with a calm expression and soft, sweet smile that he doesn’t think he’s seen for weeks, “Thank you, bab- WHAT THE HELL!?!?!?”

And like that, it’s gone – replaced by an expression of disbelief as you point agitatedly at the screen.  Din turns to see your team captain skating towards the penalty box, and looks back to see you shaking with fury and muttering, “Hooking my ass...  Barely tapped him…”

“That’s it,” says Din firmly.

“Hmm?” you’re not even looking at him, too busy throwing dagger eyes at the ref on screen who’s announcing the penalty details, getting ready to boo when he’s done.

“Stand up please, pretty bird,” commands Din, not really asking as he slips his paw like hands under your arms and hauls you up gently before you even process his request.  Your eyes narrow as you register something happening, but your attention is still on the game.

It’s not until Din yanks down your leggings and kneels to start pulling your feet through the legs that you snap your head down, “Din!! What are you doing?”

Left in just your pink lace trimmed panties and your “I just hope both teams have fun” sweatshirt, you look at Din with a confused expression. He rises and towers over you purposefully, crowding you back against the couch so that you’re forced to sit down with a bounce when it hits the back of your legs.

“I don’t like seeing you so stressed, sweetheart.  So, I’m going to help you relax, and you’re going to remember that this game is supposed to be fun.”

You screw up your face, unimpressed, “I know it’s supposed to be fun!  I’m having tons of fun.  Look at me, I’m- OH!!”

Din’s had enough.  It wasn’t supposed to be a negotiation anyways.  With one hand, he presses against your chest, forcing you to lean back into the couch, and with the other he spreads open your legs and lowers himself to press a firm kiss right on your clit.

“Din!!”

“Relax, baby,” he mouths against the fabric of your underwear, dipping his head and nuzzling your bud with his strong nose.  He spread your legs wider and holds them open as he starts his slow torture.

The other team’s powerplay starts and you try to keep your eyes on the game.  Normally you would be yelling at the screen for your team to clear it, but right now all you can think about is how Din’s slowly tracing over your folds with the tips of his nose and tongue.

As the powerplay clock starts to wind down, your favourite right winger intercepts a pass and tears down the ice on a breakaway.  Chased by his own teammates and the opposing team, he sets up, shoots and scores!!  Usually a short-handed goal would have you jumping up and down, cheering, but Din’s holding you down and at the exact same moment he gives your mound an open mouth kiss, tonguing your clit with a deliberate flick that has you grabbing onto his hair instead, “Yesssssssss!”

Din pays the goal no mind nor anything else that’s happening in the game, he just continues mapping and teasing your cunt through your underwear with his mouth, tongue and nose until the fabric is soaked through.

You go back to watching the game, half listening to the commentators and half following the players on the ice, all the while whimpering and softly moaning as Din works you up until you’re leaking down your ass, about to make a mess of the couch beneath.  Slowly, slowly, as Din continues to massage and prod at your dripping hole, you start to melt, stress and tension lifting from your body, replaced with a warm, buzzing pleasure emanating from your core.

The period’s half over, and you haven’t yelled at the screen once. 

“Feels so good, daddy,” you whine, when Din’s tongue presses your panties into your seam, forcing the fabric pulled tight and wet to stay tucked between your folds, finally revealing part of your pretty cunt to his gleaming eye.

“Fuck.  Pussy’s so pretty, baby.  So wet for me,” Din growls, and the vibration of his tenor works it way in, riding that same buzzing wave that’s coursing through your body, straight to your throat where it escapes as a tight wail.

“Oh Daddy!”

“Keep watching the game, pretty bird.  And remember… relax,” Din’s last word muffled as he dives face first into your pussy, open mouth kissing your slit - licking every crest and wave he has access to with a low, burning sensuality that’s driving you insane. 

“More, please – Din, I need more.  Ngggh!”

About to pull the damp gusset of your panties to the side and really starting devouring you, Din pauses with a wicked idea.  He pinches the fabric between his fingers and gives it a little tug so that the hem of your panties glides over your clit – the unexpected friction has you yelping in surprise, “Oh, fuck!”

Chuckling, Din tugs the fabric over your swollen bud a few more times and drinks in your heady moans before finally pulling it all the way aside to display your glistening cunt.

“Eyes on the game, baby.”  You look down to see Din’s face buried between your legs, but his eyes are locked onto yours, dark and blown – you nod and flick you eyes back to the screen.  Three more minutes left in the second period.

“Good girl,” Din rumbles against your slick coated seam; he licks a hot stripe from your tight hole all the way up to your throbbing clit, then back down, pushing and swirling his tongue through your arousal.  He hums as he repeats this pattern over and over as you start to pant above him.

“Close baby?”  You look away from the face-off on screen to nod at Din, he’s been eating you out for nearly the entire period of play, building you up from nothing and now you can feel yourself approaching the edge of euphoria, ready to teeter over.

“Daddy will take care of you, pretty girl.  Just relax and watch the game, kay?”

When he sees your hazy eyes flick back up to the tv, he presses in deep, opening his mouth to consume as much of your pussy as he can, tongue dancing through your folds before it burrows into your clenching hole.  His nose nudges your slippery clit as he tongue fucks you with vigor.

Above him, you’re faintly cheering on your team.

“Oh yes!  Press them!  Press them hard!”

“Nice pass!  Fuck, such a good pass!”

“Shoot it, shoot it, shoot it – yessssss!”

You come just as the team’s star rookie scores a top shelf goal, crying out So good, so good, so good as your orgasm washes over you in never-ending waves.  Apparently, you had a lot of pent up stress you needed to release.

Closing your eyes, you rest your head against the back of the couch and listen to the announcements celebrating the goal, coming down from your high as Din continues to press butterfly kisses to your pussy.  Only when you hear the buzzer signalling the end of the period do you open your eyes and smile down at Din, “Thank you, daddy.”

Making a movement to get up so you can dispense a little love of your own to Din, you’re bewildered when Din holds you down with a forearm across your stomach and shakes his head, mouth still latched to your heat. 

“Din.”

Shake, shake.

The movement of Din’s head restarts a warmth in your belly.  Your laugh is featherlight, “Din, I have to get up!  At least let me get up to buy the 50-50 tickets.”

Without releasing you, Din feels behind him blindly with his free hand until he finds your phone on the coffee table and places it in your waiting hands; he then reaches into his back pocket and takes out his wallet which he also hands over before mumbling against your slit, “Buy your tickets, baby.”

“Din, you don’t have to!  I have my ow- ah!”

Having given your clit a playful snip, Din soothes it with a soft kiss, “It’s for charity, sweetheart.”

Dreamily, you sigh in agreement, “For charity.”

Din licks you lazily through the second intermission, cleaning up your spend and using his tongue to spread the fresh slick trickling from your cunt up to and around your swollen clit.  He rests his head against your thigh and chuckles as he watches you take over ten minutes to purchase your charity raffle tickets; you used to only be able to buy 50-50 tickets if you were in attendance at the game, but the team’s charitable foundation had recently started selling them online during the game as well – and it’s taking all your concentration to navigate the site without being distracted by Din’s slow teasing.

You have to enter Din’s credit card number five times before you get it right and you think you accidentally buy twice the number of tickets you mean to.

By the time the third period starts, you’ve lost your underwear; eyes glossing over while you resume watching the game, you’re spread bare for Din as he adds his fingers to his efforts, all in the name of ‘relaxation’.  When your team can’t capitalize on their first power play of the period, he inserts one curling finger, and you concede that the missed goal opportunity isn’t the end of the world.  When your goalie has to make four heart-stopping saves in a row as the other team piles on, Din adds a second, and you passively sing encouraging praise at the TV while dissolving into the couch.  When your coach deploys his special teams, your heart rate speeds up, but not because your offensive line is absolutely dominating in the attacking zone, but because Din squeezes in a third finger, stretching your fitted walls to their limit.

“So fucking tight for me,” Din hisses, looking absolutely hypnotized as he watches his thick fingers disappear into your cunt.  The vulgar wet slaps and squelches your pussy is making nearly drowning out the commentary from the game; you moan and writhe against Din’s hand, begging him for more, “Daddy, so fucking good!  Love your fingers, please… need your mouth, dadddyyyyyyy….”

The onslaught on the ice and against your pussy continue without reprieve; Din nibbles your puffy clit between his teeth before pulling it in between his lips and sucking.  He builds and builds as the team presses and presses, no relief for your poor aching pussy or the opposing team’s goalie.  You think you might float away if Din wasn’t still holding you down, your body tingling right through to the finger tips that you have buried in Din’s hair – you pull him closer, grinding against his mouth seeking, more, more, more. 

“Soak me, pretty girl,” you feel rather than hear, Din’s command echoing deep to that spot inside you only he can reach and the vibration sets you off.  You come, a fresh wave of arousal hits Din’s chin as you chant out his name until you’re hoarse.  Trailing off with a whimper, somewhere through your thick fog of pleasure, you hear the buzzer of the second goal your favourite right winger scores tonight.

The game’s all tied up and you’re spent.

Glassy eyed and fully blissed out, you beckon Din to come kiss you with a weak smile and curl of the fingers on the hand you’ve released from his hair.��

Din’s taking out his cock from his sweatpants and lubing it up with your cum, but he doesn’t rise, “Give me one more, pretty bird.  Let’s make it a hat trick.”

You whine in protest, “Can’t, Din.  It’s too much.”

He fists his hard length and presses the barest of chaste kisses to your still pulsing clit, “Be a good girl for me.  One more, baby.”

There’s nothing, not even winning this game, that you want more than to please him so you give him a brave little nod – even though his feathery touch made you jump.

His thumb brushes gently over your slippery bundle - light pets at first, mindful that you’re nearing overstimulation.  In contrast, his other hand pumps his cock with increasing pressure and speed – already throbbing and painfully hard just from eating you out for the last 40 minutes.  Seeing how turned-on Din is just from pleasuring you has another wave of want coursing through your veins; pushing up your sweatshirt above your braless breasts, you start to play with your tits - pinching and rolling your nipples between your fingers as you throw you head back and moan, low and throaty.

The raunchy sight sends Din into overdrive.  He starts to draw gentle but consistent figure eights over your clit then bends down again to inhale the smell of your honey before pressing a series of sweet tender kisses to your still leaking hole.  All the while, choking his dick and keeping his eyes on you as you touch your perfect tits.  He stays the course with his mouth and thumb, letting you decide how much you can take when you start to buck your hips lightly.

Your third orgasm approaches faster than you anticipate, body already halfway there after that last brain numbing high.  Din reads the tensing of your stomach and your quickening breaths, “Give it to me, baby girl.  Give it to me and I’ll come all over this pretty pussy.”  With Din’s dirty promise ringing in your ear, you come with a shuddering arch of your back and a soundless scream.  Just as you’re completing your hat trick, in an arena across town your right winger is completing his.

But your eyes aren’t for him, they’re for the man who’s now milking his impressive cock, splattering rope after rope of white, glossy cum over the lips of your overwrought cunt.  You giggle as Din runs the tip of his cock through your folds, pushing in as much of his spend as he can before he heaves a heavy, satiated sigh.

Looking at you with a smirk, he chuckles, “How you feeling, pretty bird?  Relaxed?”

You laugh a genuine, musical laugh before pulling his face to yours, kissing yourself on his lips – so euphoric and peaceful from Din’s magical touch.  After a quick cleanup, you rest cozily in Din’s arms, kissing sweetly as the two of you watch your team successfully defend their lead for the final minutes of the game.  Final winning score for your team, 4-3.

Resting your sleepy head on Din’s shoulder, you confess, “I didn’t realize I was being such a stress ball about the playoffs, Din.  I’m sorry.”

Kissing your temple, Din gives you a reassuring squeeze, “No need to apologize, pretty bird.  It’s okay if you get stressed.  Just know I’m always here to help, okay?  I love you.”

You lift your head to nod and mouth the same words back to him, nearly getting lost in the dreamy eyes of the man you can’t quite believe loves you the way he does.  In a little voice you cheer, “We won, yay!”

“Yay!” chuckles Din.

Suddenly, a look of epiphany washes over your face as you pan to the screen where the winning score is displayed in bold font beneath the post game show hosts.  You turn to look at Din, then slowly again to the TV and back.  Sitting up straight, all business-like, you grin, “Seriously, Din - I’m going to need you to do this again.  Every game until we win the cup.”

“Done.”

#din djarin #modern!din djarin #din djarin fic #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x reader #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x you #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

[genericpuff]

vent post

#and before anyone who hates my shit says “yeah because you ARE a loser way to have self awareness for once” #i promise you this would be me with or without the LO fandom LMAO #anxiety is a hell of a thing #and as much as i internally guilt myself into thinking it would be better if i just shut up and hid away forever #i also know that's the trauma speaking because the adults around me always told me to shut up #and even as an adult i still encounter people who talk over me and make me feel like i'm not allowed to be outspoken #but the pen is mightier than the sword and all those years i've spent being spoken over i've been honing my penmanship #i have fun talking about the things i talk about and i don't have any less right than anyone else to do it #i am cringe and i am free #self post #vent post #altho on another note i do wanna make time this week to go find new series to read #too many of my favorites have turned to shit and it's taken its toll #i KNOW there are better comics out there that are genuinely well made #i already have a few that i'm reading that i love but i need to balance out the good with the bad more lol #i just need to take the time to go find good stuff instead of pouring so much of my attention into the bullshit that doesn't deserve my tim #i think both things can be true #i can have a lot of fun dissecting and writing about series i don't like #while also nourishing myself with good works that restore my faith in this medium #“perfectly balanced as all things should be”

[puppyeared]

its so hard to watch time pass when things like careers and assignments exist. what do you mean im supposed to take that seriously

#I have an assignment that was due a week ago and I really really dont want to do it. I have to but i dont want to #im probably making it worse because my brain has built a wall around it so now i can’t do literally anything else until thats done. but #because I don’t want to do it I’m just kinda stuck. turns out this is what they meant when they said emotional regulation is part of #exec dysfunction.. I’ll have a thought like if I get a little bit of it done now i can get it over with. I can just submit something #and then not even 5 minutes later itll be like ugh but I have to draw all the assets out. I have to write things and make spreads ugh #and its just flopping between those two things. i hate it when ppl are like well how much time do you need to work on one thing #because BOY id love to know too. I’d love to know exactly when my brain wants to cooperate with me and work around that but I cant #even my period can’t decide when it wants to punch me in the stomach. which is kinda funny in the grand scheme of things but still #its so weird im just lying on my bed thinking abt all this like damn.. the time will pass anyways no matter what I decide to do.. damn…. #if I submit that assignment now and take the L I literally won’t die. it’ll just be a deduction on an assignment nobody will ask me about #I know this but I’m still stressing myself about it so my thoughts aren’t really connecting to my body. weird #maybe its because Im having a hard time looking forward to things. theres definitely a lot I should be living for but I don’t really feel #a strong attachment to it I guess? it’s been like this for a while with holidays and meeting with friends so I just don’t #I kinda figured its because im pretty passionless and its more like passing interest. but it’s not very fun when it feels like I’m going to #be living distraction to distraction for the next 70 years or so lol #idk it kind of feels like slowly bleeding out. which is funny because I actually did experience blood loss this week #had a 30 minute nosebleed and literally could not stand. also it felt like someone was pinching the back of my brain which was interesting #yapping #does this count as vent #vent #Ive just been making an oc carrd and contemplate changing my blog header for the past 3 days honestly

[blackbackedjackal]

Sometimes I think about how long some of you all have been following me and I'm like wow, ya'll really like watching this clown.

#i know so many of ya'll by icon especially since I'm a visiual learner #I'm honestly very lucky to have attracted so many nice and cool and interesting as hell folks #i don't wanna sound like cliché or anything just like #even if I can't respond every the time know that I do really appreciate you all taking the time to be kind to me and show me things #and ask me stuff like #tumblrs always been my safe spece online #especially since this blog was made cause I had to avoid a stalker #and it's grown into this place where like #i love hearing what you guy have to say and show me things #I live alone and work a lot (and have been on tumblr more due to a lot of irl drama I can't get into yet) #and if any of ya'll are like gone for a while I will be like 'I hope ___ is doing ok' cause I do notice ;-; #so many of ya'll have been just so willing to be kind to me or let me vent to you privately or educate me about stuff #led me in the right direction and offer help #like the kindness goes both ways and I think that's really special #i might remove this later cause I get shy sharing but ahhhhhh #thank you all so so so much #it's been a rough as week #and a rough few years #so I'm just really thankful to you all ;;;;;;

[laugtherhyena]

3:23AM, time to post Hatamori fankid and retreat back into my hiding hole

#this is what i was referring to in my last post #sometimes ideas will just pop into my head and i will be unable to resist the urge #i missed sprite editing. it had been a while since i last made a person's sprite #anyways her name is Akira and I haven't decided if it's Akira Tomori or Akira Hatano yet #i like both of their surnames a bunch #thinking of her from a scenario where Ayame and Kizuna survive the kg and get together a while afterwards #Akira is adopted. obviously. Her biological parents died in the tragedy she was adopted at around 4-6 years old #doesn't remember how her bio parents where because she was like? 1-2 years old when they died? #being with them in whatever happened that led to their deaths she may have some form of memory problem from the accident(?) #Akira is pretty forgetful and slow on the uptakes. but it's nothing too worrisome #she doesn't actually care that she can't remember her bio parents because the family she has now is much more important to her #she takes more after Kizuna especially in tems of personality (tho definitely not as bad as she used to be in Dra if you know what i mean) #put them in a room together and they will gossip and talk about random shit for hours #she loves Ayame too! they just don't talk a much? Akira used to follow her everywhere when she was a kid but now that she grew up #Ayame being the awkward-ish person she is struggles a bit on how to talk/interact with her #they work out together sometimes and Ayame will always volunteer to listen to Akira play some new song she's writing #and give her opinions on it #as you can see she is a musician. aspiring rockstar specifically #this came to her as a way to vent about the tragedy and all that mess sorta #may ramble more some other time i am getting sleepy #dra #danganronpa another #fankid #hatamori #sprite edit #edit #hyena scribbles #Akira Tomori Hatano

[seiwas]

a good cry always does wonders

#sorry for the vent ! feel free to scroll past ! #had a nice conversation w my bf today #let out a good cry #and idt ive ever loved him more #was anxious about sharing lots of things w him bc i didn't really know how he'd react #or was afraid of disappointing him or smth but #he could already tell #i never used to fully grasp what it meant or felt like when ppl would say: someone who knows u better than u know urself #but today he rlly showed me just that #he's been hinting smth at me for the past few months that he thinks maybe this one thing i'm trying out isn't really for me #bec i guess he could really see that i was just trying to force it #and when i was sharing how i felt today and couldn't really voice it out #he tried to help me w it and asked if i was feeling x way and y way #and it was exactly that :( he said it was cos he's been noticing it from me for a while #and he was so sweet with the way he responded too #all love and support and not in any way disappointed at all #and idk i just feel like wow. isn't that such a special thing? to have someone know and respect u like this #i appreciate how he didn't push/pry at me the months before (bc he knows i don't really like being prodded unless i share it myself) #(i like to keep things to myself for a while to give myself the chance to handle it before involving others) #and idk i'm feeling a different type of soft today #and like a huge weight was lifted off me #lovebug #i talked so much again

[sysig]

Clash of sensibilities (Patreon)

#Doodles #Just Desserts #Villainsona #More concept art! These are kinda-sorta leftover doodles that've been hanging around that I want Somewhere #The first two are anyway the latter two are actually vent-adjacent lol #First two first! #I always prattle on about how perfect I think Charm's design is but agh her balance of flat and 3D shapes are so fun to me #My notes make sense to me but they are pretty all over the place so let's see if I can clarify lol #The numbers are how many pop-out features she has - anything that doesn't share a plane with her body (her head/torso/arms/legs) #So things like her hair - her glasses - the collar of her shirt but not the shirt itself since that's flush with her torso #Think like constructing a pattern where the clothes are part of the doll itself rather than removable articles #And while her hair is flush with what would be her body it's still an ''extra'' shape! Hopefully that makes sense lol #Anyhow - the dashes are flat features like her collar or the tops of her shoes on her thighs - they pop out but are flat shapes #As opposed to pop-outs like her bon-bons or her wings! Those are very 3D! The bon-bons are spheres and her wings are thin but not flat #I think she has a lovely distribution of flat and 3D pop-outs :D Considering she was designed with 3D in mind! Which I've gotten away from #Probably as evidenced by my difficulty coming up with her TVAU design pfftbl #I do still really like the idea of the dark stripes for her legs and scales for her body - and I canNot let that teardrop jewel design go #Oh and TVAU wings /are/ flat! Since they'd be animated in the same style as Kaiein and he's mostly 2D :) #I dunno hmm - it's hard to think of what features I'd give her that aren't just Her Outfit again #Probably it's the bon-bons that have me especially caught up they're just such a wonderful break between her torso and legs agh #Designed myself into a corner lol how do top or bottom half of design lol #As for the other two pfff |P Kaiein nonsense #Not irl at least lol minor blessings but still frustration! He's such an annoying little voice #She's taking none of it as evidenced lol #Don't let him in he just causes problems

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

I feel like I'm gonna fucking die

#my mom made me feel guilty about the music I listen to bc I got my sister into Paramore and our mom REALLY disapproves of Pmore #I accidentally dropped a small item down the toilet mid-flush and now I'm sick worrying what's gonna happen #i have to go to worship practice tonight and deal with an extremely difficult sound technician #youth group has been horribly stressful #i need to do a ton of work still tonight #I just found out I massively screwed up on a job app a couple weeks ago #and I just want to like. disappear for a while #just like. poof. no more Lu for a bit #I feel like Anything I do is gonna be Wrong somehow #I can't listen to music to chill bc i feel guilty ABOUT LISTENING TO MUSIC #I don't think I have the mental space to read rn bc I'm reading fricking house of leaves #if I tried to write I would probably hate what comes out #but idk that seems the most promising at this point that's the only thing I can honestly say I want to do #Lu rambles #sorry for the language I just needed to vent

[rosekasa]

following up from My Body Is Being Concerning, today i learned that i am in fact capable of experiencing a panic attack so severe that i faint

#sorry for talking about this im just. Processing. bc wtf was that #but also when u think about it... pretty metal right #i know this sounds very sucky but like. there are other good things happening in my life so it kinda offsets This #im upset and a bit shaken that this happened as an Isolated Incident #but like. im drawing lots right now! and feeling good about that. so it's okay. but wtf #maybe will delete this later? my brain still feels fuzzy #hopefully the last post of this genre for a while i dont like the vibe it's been bringing to ladynoir brainrot blog #i think it's weird because there's like a LOT of pressure im experiencing in most parts of my life rn which clearly seem to be taking a toll #but the one thing im actually consciously spending time on (art and writing) has been going well. so i feel like. i at least have This #idk why i feel like this is necessary to post #i guess it just helps to know that y'all know that there r weird things afoot behind the url because it feels less like i have to be alone #with it #♡alizeh talks♡ #vent #panic attack mention

[echo-s-land]

It's insane how most of the time I don't get how ppl interact and I also Don't Fucking Care

#vent ig #i wish i could #but unfortunately i havent had the occasion of sharing one of my interest with you in the past three months and when i did it didnt go as i #wanted and now we're supposed to talk through smalltalks except i dont know how to do those so im awkward as hell and unconsciously cut the #short and now im being hated (?) even tho that wasnt my intent #but i guess no matter how trustful i am i just look like a liar #and i cant even bring myself to care bc how am i supposed to explain myself when youre convinced what i say is a lie #we werent even supposed to be this close so sorry if im stiff. i tried to get along but i just cant #the never ending circle between 'i want to have ppl to interact with being alone to experience this world is exhausting and dreadful' and #'im not even remotely interested by any of you' #its different on tumblr bc i can curate my own experience & nobody comes @ me when i dont interact with them for days or weeks (BC IVE GOT #NOTHING TO SAY) and its okay and its normal and we dont have to do the 'hi how are you wyd' script every single time (sure we can check up #on each other once in a while but it doesnt become a script. it feels genuine.) #anyway. im so normal. i can def care about ppl that have never been as insane as me about something we both love(d at some point) #am pretty sure i developed 'i perceived you saying/thinking One(1) bad thing about me and now i dont care at all about your existence' as #a child as a coping mechanism but goddammit i feel like an asshole everytime it happened #i hate feeling apathetic #and i hate lying too so i cant just say shit to reassure them when i dont mean them #cant tell them im sorry about how my behavior is perceived when im so damn tired and would rather they disappear of my life

[berryblu-soda]

local silly goofer was seething with rage and dumped it all in the tags, read at your own risk :3 <- personal stuff, wrote this after the tags, pretty okay now, just got it out of my system, love yall <3<3<3

#BITE BITE BITE RAGE RAGE AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA #<- same old same old ITS BEEN A FREAKING WHILE #my dad is so infuriating yall :D #i dont have it in me to hate him but boi? HES TRYING!!!!! #like; do you HEAR YOURSELF??? IS A SINGLE WORD THATS COMING FROM YOUR MOUTH BEING PROCESSED BY YOUR BRAIN???? #YOU PRIDE YOURSELF IN ALWAYS BEING THE SMARTEST ONE IN THE ROOM #sure; intelligence wise; probably; but emotionally? a speck of dust outnumbers you- #WINNING AN ARGUMENT FOR THE SAKE OF BEING RIGHT WITHOUT REGARD FOR ANYONE ELSE- #THINKING EVERYONE SHOULD BE AS COLD AS YOU; AND IF THEYRE NOT; IF GOD FORBID THEY SHOW TOO MUCH EMOTION #THEN PHYSICAL ABUSE IS JUSTIFIED?? #THAT´S NOT A GOOD FUCKING ARGUMENT!!!! #NOT EVERY ARGUMENT HAS TO BE WON; YOU DONT ALWAYS NEED THE UPPER HAND!!!! #the shitty way you were treated and raised should not be my fucking problem and i hope you get therapy about it #and then i´ll regret not being closer to him whenever he dies; but hes making it unmeasurably hard to consider being vulnerable #AGHHH- #this man has never apologized for a single thing is his damn life btw :3! #vent #*inhale* #sorry yall i´m good; just full of rage rn :D! #i spilled a cup of juice at church today and things got waay out of hand lmaoo