…

!!!!

This one’s for the girls.

I just had an absurd conversation.

Feel free to repost to keep away creeps.

#wisdom

Supernatural 05.22 → Swan Song

The devil doesn’t know or care what kind of car the boys drive.

I would sell my soul to enter several of your fics 🥵

How do they kiss you to break your last line of defence?

Andy Barber

Ransom Drysdale

Ari Levinson

Steve Rogers

Ah, I see you woke up this morning and chose violence 😡 Hahaha I looove this ask! I’d happily sell my soul to smooch any one of these babes. Or all of them. At once. 🫠 Okay, now I’m distracting myself lol. Let’s seeee…

Andy is gonna do that thing where he gently—carefully—cups your face between his big hands. He’s gonna duck close so his eyes can lock on yours and you can’t escape his intense, penetrating gaze. So you can see his desire for you shining from those baby blues of his. He’s gonna move slow, too, not only to draw it out and give you a chance to really resist if this isn’t what you want, but because there’s something about the anticipation. He wants to hear your breath catch. He wants to see the surrender in your eyes just before they close as his lips touch yours. His mouth on yours is somehow soft and frantic at once. You can tell he’s trying to rein himself in but as soon as a soft whimper bubbles up from the back of your throat and you’re clutching at his sides, it’s game over, sis, and he switches to devour mode 😮‍💨🤌🏻

Ransom’s move will be a tiny bit similar to Andy’s in that he’s cradling your face in his hands, but it’s nowhere as soft. He’s propelling you back into the closest wall, eyes twinkling at your quiet “oof.” His hands hold you tight because he’s not gonna give you that chance to escape. You’re his and this is happening, and he’ll make sure you like it, that you beg for more. I’m pretty sure he’s gonna throw in a, “You’re mine,” just before his lips close in on yours, and then he’s gonna kiss you fiercely, kiss you breathless, kiss you until your knees are buckling and you’re finally giving him that whimper as he licks his way into your mouth and makes sure his flavor is staining your tongue for a good, long while 😏

Ari is gonna use his considerable size difference compared to you to his advantage. He wants you to be hyper aware of him but at the same time, he’ll have the softest touch ever. Backing you into a piece of furniture and pinning you there. He’s quiet, which is a rarity for him, and emphasizes the intensity of the moment. He keeps his movements slow as he raises a hand to your throat. He doesn’t grip it though, instead he gently drags his knuckles down the smooth column, lips quirking just a bit when you shudder in response. Before you’ve full recovered from that solitary touch, his thumb is brushing along your lower lip, his hungry gaze fixed on your mouth, and then he’s gonna lift his eyes to yours and maintain eye contact as he slooowly closes in until his lips touch yours. That’s when he finally makes a sound, a relieved groan, the kind of deep, carnal sound that makes your pussy clench, and before you know it, you’re kissing him back just as urgently.

Steve is gonna pounce on you in a moment of feral passion. He’s done talking about why this is a bad idea, especially when the thought of it feels so right. He’s gonna sweep you up against him, one thick arm locking around your back as his other massive hand cradles the back of your head and keeps you in place for a thorough devouring. The kiss starts hard, but when you mewl into his mouth and cling to his shoulders—give into him—he slows it down, his touch growing softer at your surrender as he hums against your lips and deepens the kiss until you’re melting into his embrace and proving what he knew all along - you were meant to be his.

(Thank you for cumming to my horny TED talk 😅)

I decided to create a masterpost that would help you with what you are struggling with. Hopefully any of the links below will help you! Reminder; You’re going to be okay. What you are going through will pass, just remember to breathe. 

————————————————————————————-

Distractions;

Here are some distractions to help keep your mind occupied so you aren’t too focused on your thoughts. 

-Draw something

-This website translates the time into colours.

-Create your own galaxy.

-Play flowing.

-Make a 3D line travel where ever you like. 

-Listen to music.

-Calm.

-Ocean mood, do nothing for two minutes.

Sleep issues; 

- 8 hour sleep music.

-Rainy mood. 

-Meditation.

-Coping with nightmares.

-How to cope with nightmares, 11 steps.

-Calm

-Foods that can affect your sleeping, both positive and negatively. 

 Uncomfortable with silence; 

-Rainy mood.

-10 hours of rain and thunder.

-3 hours of rain and thunder.

-Human heartbeat.

-Rainforest.

-Sound of rain on a tin roof.

-Autumn wind.

-Rain on a tent

-Traffic in the rain.

-Soft traffic. 

-Fan.

-Train.

-Simply noise.

-My noise.

-Rainy cafe.

Anxiety; 

-How to stop worrying. 

-Tips to manage anxiety and stress.

-The 10 best ever anxiety management techniques. 

-Self-help strategies for anxiety. 

-Helping a friend with anxiety. 

-All about worrying.

-8 myths about anxiety. 

Sad, angry and depressed/depression; 

-“I’m always sad”

-Feeling sad.

-Going through trauma.

-“I’m always angry”.

-Anger management. 

-All about anger.

-National helplines and websites.

-Self-help strategies for depression.

-Dealing with depression at work.

-Dealing with depression at school.

Isolation and loneliness; 

-Pets and mental health.

-All about loneliness. 

-“I feel so alone”

-10 more ideas to help with loneliness. 

-How to deal with loneliness.

 Self-harm;

-Alternatives to self-harm and distraction techniques.

-146 things to do besides self-harm.

-More alternatives to self-harm.

-Self-harm alternatives.

-How to take care of self-harm wounds/injuries.

-Getting rid of scars.  

Addiction; 

-How to help a friend with a drug addiction.

-What is addiction?

-All about alcohol and addiction.

-The facts about drug addiction.

 Eating disorders; 

-Helping a friend with an eating disorder.

-Eating disorder treatments. 

-Support services for eating disorders. 

-Self-help tips with eating disorders.

-Eating disorder recovery. 

-Recovering from an eating disorder. 

-100+ reasons to recover. 

-Understanding and managing eating disorders. 

 Dealing with self-hatred;  

-3 ways to ease self-loathing. 

-How to turn self-hatred into self-compassion.

-Self-hatred resources.

-10 step plan to deal with self-hate. 

 Suicidal; 

-International suicide hotlines (1)  (2)

-Preventing suicide. 

-Reasons to stay alive.

-Dealing with suicidal thoughts and feelings.

-Coping with suicidal ideation.  

 Schizophrenia;

-All about schizophrenia.  

-Helping a person with schizophrenia.  

-Understanding and dealing with schizophrenia.  

-Delusions and hallucinations.  

OCD;

-Managing your OCD at home. 

-Overcoming OCD.

-How to cope with OCD. 

-Strategies for dealing with the anxious moments. 

Borderline personality disorder; 

-Helping someone with BPD. 

-All about personality disorders.

-Treatment for BPD.

Abuse; 

-Healthy relationships VS abusive relationships. 

-Emotional abuse

-Overcoming sexual abuse. 

-Hotlines services. 

-5 ways to escape an abusive relationship. 

-Domestic violence support. 

-Signs of an abusive relationship. 

-What do to if you’re in an abusive relationship. 

-Surviving abuse. 

-What you can do if you’re sexual harassed. 

-Sexual assault support.

-What to do if you’ve been sexually assaulted or abused. 

 Bullying;

-How to stand up against bullying.

-How to protect yourself when it comes to cyber bullying.

-How to help stop people bullying you. 

 Loss and grief; 

-How to cope with a suicide of a loved one.

-Grieving for a stranger. 

-Common reactions to death. 

-Working through grief.

(Other loss and grief)

-Moving away from friends and family. 

-Coping with a breakup.

 Getting help; 

-Seeking help early. 

-All about psychological treatments. 

-Types of help.

-All about age and confidentiality. 

Things you need to remember; 

- Don’t stress about being fixed because you’re not broken.

-Remember to remind yourself of your accomplishments. Tell yourself that you’re proud of yourself, even if you’re not. 

- This is temporary. You won’t always feel like this. 

-You are not alone. 

-You are enough. 

-You are important. 

-You are worth it. 

-You are strong. 

-You are not a failure, 

-Good people exist. 

-Reaching out shows strength. 

-Breathe. 

-Don’t listen to the thoughts that are not helping you. 

-Give yourself credit. 

-Don’t be ashamed of your emotions, for the good or bad ones. 

-Treat yourself the same way as you would treat a good friend. 

-Focus on the things you can change. 

-Let go of toxic people. 

-You don’t need to hide, you’re allowed to feel the way you do. 

-Try not to beat yourself up. 

-Something is always happening, you don’t want to miss out on what’s going to happen next. 

-You are not a bother.

-Your existence is more than your appearance. 

-You are smart. 

-You are loved. 

-You are wanted. 

-You are needed. 

-Better days are coming. 

-Just because your past is dark, doesn’t mean your future isn’t bright. 

-You have more potential than you think. 

- Your value doesn’t decrease based on someone’s inability to see your worth.

Please remember to look after yourself and know that you are more than worth it and you deserve to be happy. Keep smiling butterflies x

It was the first time my shrieking drew someone closer to me. I saw it in the corner of the mirror. A shuffling amongst the shower curtains, grey pyjamas it looked like. They reminded me of something horrible. Black hair, fair skin. A young boy. It was like the mirror wanted to stab my eyes with the worst memories.

Except, I didn’t have eyes.

If my shrieking wasn’t going to do it, I thought my visage would. I turned slowly, revealing each rip, tear, cut, and pustule on my pallid skin. My fingers would look especially long, like the claws of some horrid roc. Their nails would be long and sharp enough to break flesh to the bone. And my teeth—when I flash my smile, my teeth would do all the talking.

But the boy had little reaction other than a slight shaking of his arms and legs. His eyes—oh what eyes he had—stared wide open at me. He was frozen, as if he had been trapped under an ice-skinned lake. His parents had chosen the wrong house to move into.

I began laughing. There was nothing funny. But I laughed, because laughter is a weapon—it’s a devastating lance that strikes straight into the gullet. Your breath escapes, you stare at the teeth and the creases on the face, and the deepened eyebrows, and the eyeless sockets of a skull with a dead woman’s flesh.

His eyes settled, and his arms and legs stopped shaking. He shoved his hands into his pyjama’s pockets.

I reached out my hand, and the boy did not so much as flinch when I touched my cold, clammy hands to his cheek. Instead, he raised his own hand and touched mine. He closed his eyes, and he let me run my hands over his head, over and through his hair, rubbing his eyebrows, feeling his tiny little ears.

“It’s not you, is it?” I asked. My first words in eighty years.

The boy opened his eyes, felt the scales and cuts on my arm, all the horrible marks of a thing too dead to be beautiful. He came closer, closer than any living thing ever had.

Then, for the first time since I died, I felt warmth. It was in the chest, or what should be the chest, if it wasn’t cleft in half to reveal rotten and diseased insides.

The boy lay his head against my chest and wrapped his arms around me.

“It can’t be you,” I said. “How could they let you come back? How could they make you come back? After all that they did to you?”

“I came back on my own,” the boy said. His voice echoed through my corpse.

“Why would you?” I asked. “Don’t you know what they did to you?”

“I know,” the boy said. “And I also know what you did for me, when no one else would.”

Another kind of warmth—this time on my face, sliding and streaming down my eye sockets, wetting my cheeks.

“You shouldn’t have come,” I said. My voice was breaking. “You don’t want to end up like me.”

The boy hugged me tighter. “I would rather be you than anyone else.”

I’m sold, would read an entire book of this

Soiled

Pairing: Motocross!Curtis Everett x Female Reader Summary: Curtis can't stand you. At least, that's what he tells himself. Word Count: Over 820 Warnings: Very mild eventual enemies to lovers, quick judgement, light banter, Curtis doesn't want to admit he wants you. Motocross!Curtis Everett (he's a warning, okay?) A/N: Meet Rusty and Princess! My first time writing for Curtis. Excited to dive into their eventual romance. Thanks to @drabblewithfrannybarnes for looking this over, @buckyownsmylife for the Rusty nickname, and @nocturne-pisces for previous discussions. Any and all mistakes are my own. Header by yours truly, banner by the amazing @sgt-seabass and divider by the talented @saradika . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated! ❤️

Curtis Everett couldn’t stand you from the moment he laid eyes on you.

When he wasn’t racing or practicing, he worked at the salvage yard that your father owned. He didn’t mind the work and the pay was decent.

Between his job and the tracks, he was bound to be surrounded by dirt and grime.

While he enjoyed working for your dad, who showed time and again that he was a hard worker who respected his employees, you were a different story.

The first time he spotted you at the yard, you walked toward the office with a casual sort of haughtiness that made him sneer.

Your purse likely cost more than his entire paycheck, as did the rest of your outfit.

Glancing at your manicured nails as you stopped walking, he wondered if you ever worked a day in your life.

A princess amongst peasants. He knew the type all too well.

“Excuse me,” you said, sliding your sunglasses down to stare at him with a cool, assessing gaze when he didn’t say anything. “Excuse me.”

“What do you want?” Curtis asked, thankful that it wasn’t his customer service skills he was paid for.

“You’re kind of standing in front of the door and I’d like to go inside.”

“Please, tell me you’re not applying for a job here,” he said before he could stop himself, looking you up and down. “You’re a little overdressed.”

He did not sweep his gaze over you because he found you attractive.

You lifted your chin with a grin. “I have a job, thanks. I’m actually here to see my dad.”

Curtis glanced at the door over his shoulder before looking back at you. “Your dad?”

“Yeah, my dad,” you said, taking a cautious step forward, like you were afraid you’d scuff your shoe. “He owns this place.”

Looking you over again, he couldn’t imagine you as the boss's daughter.

Your blue collar father who tore it up on the track before he stopped racing years ago didn’t seem like the type to raise a spoiled brat.

To be fair, Curtis didn’t actually know if you were a brat. He knew better than to judge a book by its cover.

But he already placed you in the “first class” section of his mind.

Too good for someone like him.

“So, may I please go inside?” you asked, sliding your sunglasses back up. “You’re still standing in front of the door.”

“By all means, princess,” he said, taking a bow before he stepped to the side.

You scoffed as you brushed past him, the sweet scent of your perfume lingering in the air. “Aww, if I’m a princess, does that make you my brave knight?”

“Not a chance,” he muttered, torn between purposely bumping into you to get your clothes dirty or shoving you against the door and kissing you.

No, he was not going to think of how your lips would taste. He refused.

“That’s too bad,” you said over your shoulder. “So nice to meet you, Rusty.”

“My name is Curtis,” he said through his teeth, wondering why he bothered correcting you.

“Tell that to the name on your shirt and the dirt on your face. Bye, Rusty!” you said, shutting the door behind you.

"It's Curtis!" he shouted, snatching the hat off his head and almost throwing it in frustration.

He vented later that day to Daisy, one of his only female friends.

“Just because she dresses well doesn’t mean she’s stuck up. Maybe she just likes to look nice."

"No, she's a stuck up pretty princess," he argued.

"You just called her pretty."

"When are you gonna ask Steve out?" he asked, changing the subject because he refused to focus on the fact that you were pretty.

No, he already made his mind up about you.

It didn’t matter that you started stopping by the yard more to bring your dad and the crew food, which he grudgingly accepted after Edgar gave him a hard time.

"She's just sucking up," Curtis said, wiping his hands before he grabbed a sandwich.

"It's working," Edgar said with a mouthful of food.

It never once got under his skin that you still called him “Rusty” with a smirk whenever he called you "Princess".

"You know my name, Princess. Watch where you're stepping."

"Careful, Rusty," you teased. "I'll start to think you care if I get dirty."

And it didn't mean a thing when you stepped into the office late one night to help sort your dad's paperwork when he had to leave early.

Which was the first time he saw you look less than perfect when he caught you wiping a stray tear away as you headed back to your car.

He thought of calling after you to see if you were okay, but he didn't. He was probably seeing things.

Besides, it wasn't any of his business. You weren't his girl.

A princess like you never would be.

What do we think, lovelies? And, yes, Daisy is another reader who is totally crushing on Steve Rogers. Curtis approves. Love and thanks for reading. ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Dialed In Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

Tattoos are way too hot 🥵

• Cap’s Secret Tats •

Pairings: Steve Rogers x reader

Warning: implied smut, explicit sexual content, explicit language (must be 18+)

Exactly 100 words!

A/N: gif is not mine, credit to the creator.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~

'Can't hide these for too much longer' you smirked from between his thighs, tongue trailing to Steve's newest tattoo at his Adonis belt.

'I know' he panted, head leaning back, arms stretched along the couch.

'Squeaky clean Captain America has tats?’ You teased.

'Fuck, Y/N' Steve groaned, your fingers griping his thighs. His body trembling as you traced your tongue over his skin.

'What's wrong?' You purred.

'Suck me off' he groaned and a whimper followed.

'You’re the one that wanted my pretty little tongue tracing all your tattoos' you smirked, peering up at him with big doe eyes.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~

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