#<- no idea if i should use these or not but whatever

[cephaloph0re]

we're going back to the first thanksgiving

everyone lets do this ok? play touys

[jewish-vents]

my neighbor tried to shoot my dog. he's antisemitic and I've always known that, but this was over the line even for him. what his dumb ass didn't realize is 1. my dog is fast as hell (regularly outruns my friend's greyhound) and 2. I have motion activated cameras that capture sound. his entire rant at me afterwards about how yeah, he did shoot at Ahwa, she's evil and so am I and all Jews should be torn apart and I'm lucky he lets me live in his state, blah blah bah? that's all admissible in court and permitted to be published online. this is a single-party consent state for recording. first this is going to the police and then if they don't do anything this is going online and I'm tagging his boss, his kids (who don't interact with him much bc he's a crazy Trump supporter) and the local news station.

I can take slurs. I can take threats. fighting isn't new to me. but if anyone comes for Ahwa I am going to do worse than kill them, I will make them so miserable death will seem preferable. I will make it so the first thing that comes up when anyone googles his name is him trying to shoot a dog. this isn't about anything but hate. this isn't about any of his stupid conspiracy theories and it sure as shit isn't about Palestine. this man is unhinged and armed and dangerous and I'm SO FUCKING TIRED of all the goyim around me going, "oh, this sort of thing happens. it could happen to anybody."

NO IT COULD NOT, ACTUALLY! and I hope if anyone ever treats them like he's treated me, people don't treat them like they've treated me.

and before anyone goes "well move" my family has been here since before this was a US state! since before there was a town here! since the literal 1830's! why should I have to move somewhere else to live in peace? nobody ever tells these kinds of people to move. "if you go to Israel you'll be safe" do you have ANY idea how hard it is to support my sick, elderly parents and myself on one salary? I don't have the money! I just fucking don't!

hot take: NO ONE SHOULD SHOOT AT MY DOG IN HER OWN YARD! it doesn't matter what someone's religion is or what their heritage is or even what their political beliefs are, you should never try to kill their dog! or their cat or their guinea pig or whatever! I hate this man. I have also NEVER tried to hurt his dog. she's done nothing to me. and whatever his conspiracy theories make him think I did to him, Ahwa has done nothing to him! malamutes are not part of ((the New World Order))) or whatever!

I'm so angry and so tired and honestly just so thankful Ahwa sprang up and bolted when she heard his footsteps. never in my life did I think it would come to this. I don't recognize the world I live in anymore.

.

[womanofwords]

Frozen Heart (Part 18)

TW: forced infantilisation and yandere behaviour.

Bruce became even more smothering after Dr Tripp talked to him. "I had no idea what was happening to you, little one," he cooed, carrying you into the house. "But don't you worry, Daddy is taking care of everything."

"What? But no! Only Alfred can do this stuff for me! I want Alfred!" you wailed.

Bruce continued as if you weren't even saying anything. "This is going to be a steep learning curve, but we'll get through it. Dr Tripp said that this age regression stuff helps little ones like you. Well, we can do that. We'll do anything for you."

Bruce renovated your room scarily fast. Your room had a mural of a magical forest wrapped around the walls, and your clothes were a lot more cutesy than before. It was part nursery, part kindergarten classroom. Exactly what you needed to be raised in a loving home.

"You are so adorable, Y/N," Barbara gasped, brushing your hair. "Would you like accessories? Bows? Ribbons? Hair clips? You're getting whatever you want!"

"Don't overwhelm them, Barb!" Stephanie insisted. "Oh, our little Y/N will look so cute with anything!"

So adorable! Cass signed. She pointed at the chart of finger signs. Y/N, can you sign your name? What about our names?

The door slammed open. "Hand over Y/N or I'm gonna scream!" Dick yelled. "Jason, get away from me, you - UGH!"

Jason shoved Dick away from your room, leaving him sprawled on the floor. "Keep away from the door. I'm going to be taking care of them. You're way too much of a crybaby and you'll set them off," Jason grunted.

"I am the blood sibling and all of you will part for me!" Damian demanded, standing on Dick to do so.

"Honestly, you should be getting age regression therapy with them." Tim jerked a thumb over at Damian's direction. "Y/N needs the therapy and you need manners."

Damian's jaw dropped. "You can't make me do that. It's only a requirement for Y/N!"

"It could do you some good," Duke mused. "Hey, Damian, want a stuffed polar bear? It'll go well with Y/N's panda."

The boy assassin rolled his eyes. "I'm an Al Ghul and a Wayne. I do not require such insipid tokens of sentimentality."

You rolled your eyes. "Could I have a lollipop, please?"

Five hands shoved lollipops at you, waiting for you to take one. "What are you doing?" Barbara asked. "This is the sugar-free one that won't hurt their teeth."

"Well, this is the one that'll actually taste good," Tim said, brandishing a lollipop that was huge and hypnotised you with swirls. "Did you raid a dentist's office for those, Babs?"

"Come on, Y/N, get the lollipop! It's your favourite flavour!" Dick sniffled, literally still on the floor. He was tearing up already.

"They're not going to want your offerings when you act like that," Jason said. "Hey, Y/N, how about you and I go somewhere and read a book? Y/N, I'll let you read whatever you want, I promise."

"BABA! JASON'S STEALING Y/N!" Damian screamed. He latched onto you like a shipwreck survivor clings onto driftwood.

"All of you, stop!" Bruce wrestled you out of Jason's arms. "You're frightening Y/N! There, there, Y/N, Daddy's here and we're going to be doing some word association. After your tutor come by for your lessons, of course."

"Tutor?" That word snapped you out of this weird childish haze. "I thought you'd be sending me back to school."

"Absolutely not. My little Y/N is not going back to the place that broke them," Bruce said. "You're staying with us, where it's safe, and where nobody and nothing will hurt you. Nothing can hurt you here."

You pointed at Damian. "I would like some distance from my brother," you said. "He set Titus onto me and I now have a fear of dogs."

That was Dick's cue to be your hero. He dusted himself off, picked Damian up, and threw him out of your room, literally. "Done!" he said, pretending not to notice the thump of his body against a wall that everyone definitely heard afterward.

"Master Dick, why did I see Damian hit the wall with great force?" Alfred asked.

"Y/N's comfort," Dick said. He snuggled as close to you as he could while you were still in Bruce's arms. Bruce put some distance between you and Dick.

"Dick, you are also going to be keeping some distance from Y/N. After your midnight actions concerning Cassandra and Damian in their room, you could do with some distance," Bruce said.

Dick's mouth opened and closed as if he were a fish. "Cassandra started it!" he eventually spluttered.

"I know. She's staying away from Y/N, too. Along with Damian for waking Y/N up in such a traumatising manner."

"Seriously? Ugh, you are so mean! We'll bond soon, Y/N!" Dick sobbed, as you were taken to your tutor.

Once tutoring was over, Bruce had his own lessons to teach you. "Read my lips, sweetheart. Daddy . . . loves . . . his . . . baby." He spoke to you in a baby voice, his own rendition of Miss Rachel. "Daddy. Papa. Baba. Father. Plain old Dad. Just not Bruce."

"I'm not a baby. I'm doing advanced stuff. I'm going to graduate and go to college," you said.

Bruce sighed. "Not letting you out of our sight, kiddo. Those nasty people might get revenge. So we're going to make sure that you're OK by keeping our little jewel under tight supervision."

"No, you can't!" You tried to struggle away from your father. "I want to leave and get away from here! Damian will kill me before anybody or anything else does!"

"I will make sure Damian doesn't hurt you," Bruce promised. "Nothing will ever hurt you again."

Bruce took you downstairs and painstakingly fed you your meal. It was one of your favourites, but you couldn't enjoy it. "You are going to have everything you ever want," Bruce promised, as your siblings cooed at you. "And everything will be perfect for you, at long last."

You felt all the fight leave your body. You would never get to leave the family you'd grown to hate, or the mansion you wanted to escape from. You'd even heard Bruce talk to Alfred about custody papers so you could 'have more time with your new childhood'. Daddy's baby forever.

Bruce took you into your room when 8 PM hit, claiming you would be cranky if you had to stay up for longer. Your siblings clawed at him, following him and you up the stairs to your room. Bruce placed you down into your bed, which smelled faintly of herbs. "Why does my bed smell weird?" you asked.

Bruce smirked. "A little trick Daddy learned from his time with those Tibetan monks. Helps you sleep very fast. Daddy is going to have you out like a light, little one. You're going to be so happy, darling."

"You did . . . that?"

"Of course. Daddy needs to put his baby to sleep himself. And to think I let Alfred have you to himself." He chuckled at his own prior negligence. "Well, I'm parenting my baby from now on. Relax, little one, close your eyes. You are safe, you are loved, and Daddy is here."

That wasn't good. You were going to leave. You needed to go. But your body wasn't loyal to you. It shut down on command from your father, your eyelids shutting while your mind strained to leave. You fell into sleep without a sound, and Bruce kept watch.

"You are never leaving my sight," he whispered. "Never."

First

Previous

Taglist: @tinybrie, @bunniotomia, @kittzu, @justwannabecat, @exactlynumberonekryptonite, @vanessa-boo, @jscrawls, @sirenetheblogger, @lovebug-apple, @realifezompire.

[endofthelinegang]

just one bite

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠ˏˋ°•*⁀➷  john walker x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲ˏˋ°•*⁀➷  john walker would love nothing more than to go to bed, really he wouldn’t but you won’t let him rest without him fulfilling your request.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬ˏˋ°•*⁀➷  nighttime fun baby 

use this magical link here to find a number and give me a request for ANY marvel character :), you are also welcome to send me any ideas or even thoughts you have about any marvel characters!

It continued with the sock.

A sad, balled-up sock that smacked him directly in the face like the universe was punishing him for trying to sleep. John exhaled slowly, one eye cracking open as the sock rolled off his cheek and onto the pillow beside him. Earlier it had been you laughing so hard there were tears at a war movie. That then turned into you poking him and getting his face which he just loved. He had briefly settled you down by practically holding you down and talking to you. But that was short lived.

“You’re gonna kill me,” he said, voice gravelly from sleep and exhaustion and you, dragging him through hell at 1:00 a.m.

You were a blur of an oversized t-shirt and bare legs as you half-skipped, half-crawled across the foot of the bed, energy buzzing off you like static. The lamp on the nightstand threw everything into gold-edged half-light: soft shadows, warm skin, the sharp gleam of your eyes. You threw yourself down hard onto John’s chest to which he let out a huff watching as you tossed your hair around right in his face. 

“You’re being dramatic,” you said, breathless with the kind of laughter you only got after midnight. “You didn’t even flinch.”

“Because I’m numb,” he muttered, pulling the sides of his pillow around his face he mumbled out the words, “Numb to your late-night bullshit.”

You ignored him completely and got comfy on top of him using his chest as an arm rest you kicked your feet in the air behind you. Eyes alight with mischief and something warmer. “John.”

“No.”

“You didn’t even let me ask.”

“Don’t need to. I’ve seen that look before. That’s your ‘I’ve had three caffeinated drinks and cannot tell you how much caffeine was in each one behavior.” You had moved his pillow out of his face, his grip weakened from his need to get some sleep.

You grinned. “Okay, true. But seriously. Just hear me out.”

“No.”

“But what if—hypothetically—” you were leaned in as close as you could be without your faces touching, chin resting on your hands, face inches from his, “—I bit your bicep?”

His eyes closed for just a moment and then opened. Slowly. Like he couldn’t believe you’d said it. He blinked a couple of times for good measure before speaking,

“…what?”

“Your bicep,” you said, tone sultry-soft now, a velvet drawl wrapped in chaos. You were now touching your forehead against his. Your hair makes almost a fort around your two faces, “I want to bite it. Just once.”

A beat of silence. The hum of the night pressing in around the room. The overhead fan spinning a lazy circle above you both. John stared at you like he was asking whatever higher power cursed him why. 

“You’re unbelievable,” he muttered, not even sure what else to say. He had never heard even a similar request from you or anyone else. In fact he had never even heard it be asked on TV.

“But hot?”

“You are trying to bite me like I did not get you dinner earlier.” He was seriously confused, he considered it maybe being one of those trends where women were asking their boyfriends and that you were not being real about this. 

You moved one arm to stretch down his, your palm finding his forearm, thumb dragging over the warm stretch of muscle. His body was tense—coiled, even—like he couldn’t decide if he should roll with it or run.

“You can’t blame me,” you whispered, leaning in so your breath kissed his jaw. “You walk around all day with these arms out, sleeves pushed up just enough to ruin my life. What did you think was gonna happen?” You knew that stroking his ego would get him to bend or at least consider your proposal. 

He made a noise. A low, strangled kind of grunt that wasn’t quite a laugh.

“I should sedate you.”

“You could,” you said, fingers sliding up over his bicep now—slow and featherlight. “Or you could let me have one bite. A sexy one. Like... a ‘we’re alone, and it’s quiet, and you look really good in this lighting’ kind of bite.”

He turned to look at you. Really look at you. Your lips were slightly parted, breath hitching in the quiet. The lamp cast golden halos over the lines of your face, your neck, the sliver of thigh visible beneath the hoodie. And you weren’t laughing anymore—not really. There was humor there, yeah, but behind it was something hungrier. Real.

You tilted your head. “I’ll make it worth it.”

His jaw clenched.

And then, slowly, deliberately—he flexed.

You lit up like a struck match. Gleeful and glowing. Straddling his lap even tighter than before so that he could not change his mind, you let your hands smooth up his arm like you were worshipping it, not teasing it. Your lips brushed at his shoulder first—soft, reverent—then your mouth moved down to what you had been begging for. That is when your teeth sank in. Not hard. Not deep. Just enough to mark the pressure, enough for him to feel it through every nerve. You hummed low in your throat, content, lingering. Let your nose nuzzle against the skin. His hand landed on your hip without thought, fingers pressing into the curve of you.

His breath caught.

When you pulled back, you were grinning—but there was something else in your eyes. Heat. Need. That wild, unspoken ache that only surfaces in the dark when the world feels far away. You ran your tongue over your teeth with your lips slightly parted making the deepest eye contact you could. 

John was looking at you like you were trouble.

Beautiful, irresistible trouble.

“That wasn’t a bite,” he said, voice rough. His hands stayed put on your waist, he could still feel the nerves in his bicep twitching and the saliva from where your tongue had just lightly touched the skin was getting cold. 

You shrugged. “Wasn’t it?”

He exhaled through his nose. Shook his head. Then reached up and pulled you to him like it had been inevitable all along, he had wrapped his arms more around you to place his hand in the middle of your back in order to keep you stable. The kiss was nothing like the bite. It was hungry, unguarded—months of willpower unraveling all at once. His mouth was hot and heavy on yours, hands tight on your body like he didn’t know how to be gentle with this kind of want. You gasped into it, hands roaming anywhere you could reach, pressing your body to his like you could climb into his chest and stay there.

When you finally broke apart, your forehead rested against his.

“Still want me to go to sleep?” you whispered, breathless. Now touching his face lightly grazing your fingers on and through his facial hair. 

“Hell no,” he muttered. But he rolled you onto your side, tucked you under his arm anyway, buried his face in your hair, and pulled the blanket around you both like a cocoon, one hand still splayed across your hip. And when you finally fell asleep, lips tingling and heartbeat in your throat, you could’ve sworn you felt him kiss the top of your head.

Just once.

Just soft.

[partygirlpiastri]

I CAN DO IT WITH A BROKEN HEART ; IH6.

synopsis: A fluffy SMAU (Social Media Alternate Universe) about Y/N L/N’s devastating breakup with her boyfriend of three years. . . And how it led her to Isack Hadjar, the love of her life.

trigger warnings: Use of Y/N; Use of feminine pronouns from the reader’s perspective; Use of swear words in French and English; Descriptions of romantic acts and behaviors; Suggestive remarks

a message from the author: This story was so fun to make. I hope you all will enjoy this! Thank you so much for the love you have shown Honey; it was my first-ever story. You all are incredible!

comments 15

yourbffusername Is everything OK?

user1 OMG.

user2 Crashing out is so real

user3 That’s a lot of tissues. . .

user4 Girl 😭 Hope you feel better

yourusername Thank you, next 💌

comments 25

user5 Love your hair!

user6 Glad to see you’re feeling a little better ❤

user7 Miss you loads, we have to hang out ASAP

user8 Bathroom stall graffiti is so real

user9 What book is that?

user10 Cute sweater!! Looks cozy

yourbffusername LOVE YOU QUEEN 🥰💕

yourbffusername replied to the Snap

I’m so excited to go with you! Lando Norris better watch out, mwahahaha 😋

isackhadjar On my way to the land down under. . . Australia GP 🏎🏁

tagged f1, visacashapprb

comments 5.1k

user11 So hyped for this season!

user12 Can’t wait! 🤞

user13 It’s lights out and away we go. . .

user14 Congratulations on getting to F1!

yukitsunoda 👊🎉

user15 Cool helmet 🤗

comments 27

user16 IS THAT ISACK HADJAR?

user17 What happened to “Hello? How are you? My name is?”

user18 This is absolutely insane

user19 Girl, how the hell did you get here? 😭

user20 The power of manifestation. . .

user21 How hasn’t he been arrested for carrying those guns around?

user22 Oui oui or whatever they say in France 🇫🇷

comments 6.7k

user23 HELP?

user24 I love how unserious Isack is.

user25 Oh, he so wants her.

user26 Isack is not nonchalant.

user27 I fear he has never been 😭

user28 Does Isack actually have rizz?

user29 I woke up to this and I think this is crazy.

user30 No freaking way.

f1gossip VCARB driver Isack Hadjar spotted in Melbourne with a mystery girl. . . Does the rookie have a secret girlfriend?

tagged isackhadjar, f1, visacashapprb

comments 549

user31 That should be me. 😞

user32 They are adorable!

user33 He loves her, I can tell

user34 Isack is betraying me. . . 💔

user35 So wholesome.

yourusername Traveled to the land down under 🦘🌏

tagged yourbffusername, f1

comments 47

user36 Hope you had fun!

user37 Who is that in the second slide?

yourbffusername So mad that I left early. Tell me who the mystery man is!

user38 So jealous!

user39 Cool pics 📸

isackhadjar Miami Grand Prix was a blast. . .Thank you to everyone who came! Had the best time, spent it with someone I love very much.

tagged yourusername, f1, visacashapprb

comments 7.8k

user40 Who’s that girl?

user41 About to find who she is just by her sweater.

liamlawson 💪💙

user42 M-I-A-M-I

user43 Awesome work Isack!

user44 P11 🎊

yourusername Cat’s out of the bag, I guess 😏 Yes, that is actually Isack Hadjar (I have no idea how we’ve gotten together).

comments Limited

Credits: Dividers — @anitalenia; Photos — Pinterest

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for Cheshire behind the cut; “Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good!” (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“. . . sure,” Lynn repeats, finally. Billy reflexively brightens. 

“Cool!” he says excitedly, linking his hands together behind his back to keep himself from the reflexive clap he almost went for. Probably the clap thing would be kinda dorky, to a teenager. Or just kinda loud to a baby; either/or. “Um–cool, yeah. Do you want help picking one out, or do you wanna do it by yourself? Or, um, try by yourself first, and me or Tawky can help if you have trouble? Or me and Tawky, if you want!” 

Lynn stares at him some more again. Billy probably seems incredibly uncool to a teenager and incredibly weird to a baby, though he doesn’t really know which one of those things Lynn is thinking right now. Like–it could be both, probably. Probably it could be both. 

Gods, how is he supposed to be a cool enough dad for his teenager while also not being too weird a dad for his baby? How’s he supposed to even do that? He’s gonna need his own books. Like, just so many parenting books and stuff. And also, like–he’s probably gonna have to do some trial and error stuff, probably? Like, that kind of thing, he guesses? 

Well . . . actually, Billy guesses it’s a little weird, but probably, like . . . books about kids with developmental delays or trauma would probably be able to tell him how to split that difference, right? Like, come to think? Like the parts where Lynn’s a teenager and the parts where he’s a newborn and the parts where he isn’t really either, probably. Billy’s second-least-shitty social worker had said some stuff about developmental delays and stuff like that a couple times, and then the guy’d tried to send him to a psychologist like he’d actually thought Billy was dumb enough to talk to a state psychologist about jack shit, and–

Maybe Billy should be getting books about kids with developmental delays or trauma, yeah. That’s maybe a thing he should do, yeah. 

He really needs to, like, start keeping a to-do list already. 

“. . . dunno,” Lynn says stiffly, glancing awkwardly towards the stacked-up piles of books. “Uh–there’s . . . a lot.” 

“Oh, yeah, kinda,” Billy says, then thinks–well, since Lynn hasn’t been talking that much, if he bothered mentioning that there were a lot of something . . . “Want me and Tawky to pick out a few that look good for bed, and then you can pick from those? So it’s not, like, so many all at once?” 

“. . . sure,” Lynn says. Billy doesn’t really know how to read Lynn all that well yet, but he does think the other maybe sounds a little relieved about that offer. Which, well, hopefully he is? Since that’s like, the whole reason Billy made the offer and all. 

“Cool!” he repeats cheerfully. “We can pick some out while you, like–brush your teeth and wash your face and stuff. Or take a shower? Um, I guess you did just get changed, but you could if you wanted. Or a bath, even! It’s like . . . evening-y and all. Or you could do it in the morning, whatever you wanna. But I don’t think we have bubble bath and it’s way better with bubble bath. But we could get some! Like, later, I mean. Um. Did I show you where the bathroom was yet? Well, um–bathrooms, I guess, I guess there’s two of ‘em.” 

There are two–the bigger one’s in the hall, and then a smaller one’s actually attached to the biggest bedroom, so Billy guesses that one’s kind of “his”, technically, but like, he doesn’t care if Lynn wants to use it too. Lynn’s a baby. Though also he’s like . . . a teenager, so yeah, he might care. Billy has definitely met some teenagers who really care about which bathroom they use. 

The idea of caring whose bathroom is whose is really weird to Billy, honestly, but also he’s not a teenager yet, so like . . . yeah, who knows. Teenagers are kinda just weird too, he’s pretty sure? That’s what everybody says, anyway, and he’s met some pretty weird ones himself, so yeah. 

Also–well. Billy hasn’t really been in a situation where it was up to him which bathroom was “his” or which bathroom he could use or anything like that in . . . a really long time, yeah. Or like–ever, really. His parents had a bathroom attached to their bedroom too, and there was like a “half-bath” on the first floor without a shower or tub or anything in it, and he’d just always used the one next to his bedroom with the– 

Billy feels–weird, suddenly, and stops thinking about . . . that. Stops thinking about . . . his old house, he means. His–parents’ house. 

He doesn’t usually . . . think about that, is all. So it’s–weird, thinking about it now. And like, he guesses it makes sense that he is, like how he’s thinking so much about his parents now that he’s a parent too, just . . . 

Just–it’s weird, thinking about it. 

That’s all. 

“I know where the bathrooms are,” Lynn says, which is admittedly pretty obvious. It’s a big apartment, but it’s not like a huge giant house or mansion or something; there’s only so much space. And Billy did show him the bedrooms earlier, at least, and at least where a couple things are, so . . . well, yeah, it’s pretty obvious. 

“Okay, cool,” Billy says. “Do you know how to get ready for bed or do you need a hand or anything?” 

“. . . I know how to get ready for bed,” Lynn says, staring blankly at him. 

“. . . do you want a hand or anything?” Billy offers, just because that phrasing wasn’t, like, an actual no. Lynn–frowns, briefly, and glances towards the wall. 

“Um,” he says. “. . . no.” 

“Okay!” Billy says cheerfully, and really can’t help brightening up again. “Then Tawky and I’ll pick out the books while you’re doing that, okay?” 

“. . . okay,” Lynn says, sparing him a long, blank look. Then he turns around abruptly and disappears back down the hall. Billy feels pretty good about the conversation, he thinks? Lynn told him he needed some stuff, and told him he didn’t need some stuff, and he told Lynn what he could do to help him with the stuff he needed help with, and Lynn said okay to him helping. 

And he’s just, like–he’s really proud, that Lynn feels okay enough to say “no” to him. Like, proud of Lynn for doing it to begin with, but also a little bit proud of himself for apparently doing an okay enough job at being a dad so far that Lynn thought it was safe to say “no” to him. 

Like–definitely he’s proud of that.

[antiastrology4ever]

Bukharans

Kaifeng Jews

Really any Jewish group that's only being brought up as a gotcha or a 'look how smart I am'

How the Ottoman Empire was great to non-Muslims including Jews and should have colonized the US instead of Britain

Ladino, Judeo-Arabic, Judeo-Berber, really any Jewish language you're bringing up to paint Yiddish as evil

Pogroms, hate crimes, what counts as a hate crime, how it's not an antisemitic hate crime if you hate the person it happened to, etc.

Which Jews are/aren't white. Instead, ask yourself why you're clinging to the artificial racist construct of the idea of whiteness, which is fake, instead of looking at ethnicity, a real, actual thing that exists. (If it makes you uncomfortable to think about whiteness being fake: why? Ask yourself that and sit with that feeling.)

Jews 'tricking' or 'outsmarting' Hashem, an idea so batshit that I cannot help but wonder if goyim ever try saying things out loud and just reflecting upon the wild-ass takes they've produced

Whatever Google told you when you looked something up

Whatever Google told you when you looked something up and you're speaking directly to a Jewish person attempting to goysplain to them

Whatever ChatGPT told you when you were too lazy to Google

Anything you were told about Jewish theology that is directly contradicted by actual theology. My favorite example is someone insisting we don't eat pork not because of kashrut, but because we believe when Satan led his rebellion and the angels fell from Heaven, some of them went into pigs. 1. that's genuinely unhinged, seek help 2. that's not an ableist joke, I mean that sincerely, that sounds like something I would say during a manic episode 3. that is directly contradicted by theology 4. I'm trying to approach you with light and love and brotherhood and all that happy horseshit but when you say things like this I have to harness every bit of willpower in my body not to laugh right in your face and it's exhausting

Bagels

Jewish characters

"This conflict in a TV show is like I/P!" No, it isn't.

"This conflict in [other media] is like I/P" and the writers, director, actors, etc. have explicitly said it's based on something else

Jewish musicians

Internet comedians who are Jewish

Hummus and who gets to eat hummus - it's not you, goyim! You put chocolate in it! Every atheist and Christian responsible should apologize to every Jew and Muslim they meet, immediately.

Actually I want you to relinquish bagel and lox, too, until you can be trusted not to say "spinach, mayo and sriracha go great on it" within earshot of anyone with good taste

If you’re not Jewish, you can kindly shut the fuck up about the following:

The Talmud

Zionism

What is or is not antisemitism

The word “goy/goyim”

Jumblr: Feel free to add more.

[heartnearu]

Warm Silence | P.SH

park sunghoon x f!reader [ONE SHOT]

synopsis: you brighten sunghoons world the same way the sun brings warmth to a cold day. to him, you’re everything. you’re the hush in his heart, the softness in all his hard edges, the steady in his storm, his anchor, his home. yet somehow, you felt out of reach—like a dream he could never quite hold onto.

genre: angst / romance / SLOW burn

tropes: childhood best friends / first love / boy next door / coming of age / SELF SABOTAGE

DISCLAIMER!! i am no professional. i am simply an insomniac with an idea. my writing may be terrible but this is only for fun. this is FICTION!

WC: 8k

songs: when the sun hits - slow dive | all i need - radiohead | we are the people - empire of the sun | meet me halfway - black eyed peas

NOTE: high school! AU | reader uses she/her pronouns. i currently cannot think of any possible warnings, but if you suggest what i should put after reading it i will happily do so :)

⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰

the persistent tapping on his window pulls sunghoon from the restless dream that had kept him from getting a good night’s sleep.

with a groan, he turned over and buried himself beneath the blanket, wishing he could somehow melt into the mattress and eventually disintegrate into the air so he could at least be at peace.

who needs him this early anyways?

whoever or whatever it is that’s tapping annoyingly can wait until later when he actually has the power to socialize. he’d rather apologize for ‘not hearing’ their calls or say that he ‘thought it was a bird’ than lose sleep and get up early.

he should be grateful—after all, he was awaken from a bad dream that never seemed to end. but he still clung to the hope of getting a few more hours of sleep, convinced nothing could stop him. sleeping is one of the very few escapes that asked for nothing in return.

the constant tapping went to a sudden halt. with his eyes still closed, sunghoon smiled at the profound silence as he shifted in his bed to get comfortable.

everything from his sheets to his current position felt perfect—he could already tell that it was going to be a good few hour nap by how he was sinking into the mattress.

just as sleep began to take him, a voice suddenly shattered the silence.

“sunghoon! you’re lucky i don’t have anything else to throw at your window, because i promise you i would’ve kept going!”

at the sound of your voice, sunghoon’s eyes snapped open—without skipping a beat, he quickly got out of bed, almost face planting onto the floor in the process due to the blanket tangled around his legs.

by the time he was at his window, he was flushed and out of breath but opened the window without hesitation. across from him was you, leaning against your own window.

you blinked at his sudden presence in front of you and paused as he caught his breath. his gaze settles on you, eyes tracing your features with a quiet intensity, trying to memorize every detail.

an odd feeling blooms in his chest, subtle but persistent. it feels like he misses you, though you’re standing right in front of him, and he can’t quite understand why.

it’s feels as if it’s the first time he has seen you in a while, even though you did homework together just last night.

he pushes the feeling aside, deciding he’ll make sense of it later. just as his lips parted to voice his concerns—you burst into laughter.

the confusion growing on his face only fueled your giggle fit even more. you didn’t notice how his features softened at the scene in front of him.

you put a hand on your chest, trying to catch your breath,“if i would have known that calling for you worked more efficiently nowadays, i would have done so twenty something rocks ago.” you raise your voice slightly so he can hear you,“anyways.. you got less than fifteen minutes to get ready to leave because we’re gonna be late!”

“late?” sunghoon questioned with furrowed brows, “late to where?” he slightly tilted his head as he pondered what you could mean.

he couldn’t recall making plans with you—though he didn’t exactly oppose the idea of going out with you spontaneously.

“well..” you pause and cocked your head as you thought about it for a second, almost mimicking what sunghoon had done unconsciously. “not exactly late but you know, we wouldn’t get the usual view we do when we go around this time.”

you wave your hand trying to dismiss him,“go change, ask questions later” you try shooing him back into his room.

he frowned,“you’re no help. how do you expect me to change when i don’t even know where we’re going?”

you roll your eyes and smile,“you worry too much, just change and meet me outside. don’t forget your keys and your license ‘cause you’re driving today. just wear something you’ll be comfortable in and won’t regret wearing later, okay? see you in a bit hoonie!”

your eyes sparkled in anticipation before you closed your window, leaving no time for sunghoon to question you any longer.

sunghoon sighed and shook his head with a faint smile—what was he going to do with you?

・୨ ✦ ୧・

you hummed with the song playing on the video you watched on your phone as sunghoon started his car.

sunghoon tapped on the screen, trying to connect his phone to bluetooth,“so.. where are we going? ‘cause i can’t go anywhere without knowing a little bit about this place that you want us to go to.”

he turns to you with a lopsided grin, handing you his phone so that you can play music.

“hm.. i guess you’re right. well, i wanted to go to the lake we always used to go to when we were kids.” you replied, unlocking his phone so that you can get to spotify.

“the one our moms took us to every summer?” he asked, raising a brow.

you hummed, still scrolling on his phone looking for songs to put in queue. “yeah. we haven’t gone in a while and i wanted to go with you before we get busy with college after we graduate in a couple days.”

you paused to ask if he wanted any songs in particular, when he shook his head you continued scrolling, “i know we have summer and all but.. i don’t know…everything will feel too real by then. plus this is basically us just doing stuff we used to do before we’re sent off to ‘adult life’ where things are actually somewhat serious.”

sunghoon understood what you meant.

recently, everything has been feeling so stressful yet freeing because you guys will finally be able to leave the hellhole known as high school.

you both have been stacked with work from your teachers who swear that they’re ’preparing you for adult life’ but the both of you know it’s a load of bull, most of it is just filler work because they have nothing else for students to do since it’s the end of the year. they just want to keep students busy and get their pay check but what sucks is that it’s a part of his grade, meaning he had to do it.

with a destination now in mind, sunghoon starts driving.

he glanced at you and snickered. “so, is that why you decided to wake me up with a handful of rocks accompanied with your terrible aim? who would have thought that someone as amazing as you could miss a target as big as my bedroom window.” he says sarcastically.

you gasp at his sarcasm,“don’t be rude,” you reach over to flick his temple but failed miserably due to him being able to somehow grab your wrist before you got close enough to hit him.

you gave up and let out a dramatic huff,“you’re just mad that i was smart enough to throw the ones that were a little too big at the wall so that i don’t break your window the same way you broke mine last time.”

“i was twelve!” he quickly defended,“and that’s not fair, yeji basically set me up for failure that time! she swore it wouldn’t break. plus it was the only thing we had available to throw that would make enough noise to catch your attention”

he heard you stifle a laugh as you remembered the day sunghoon’s little sister gaslighted him into believing that your window was indestructible simply because she was bored and wanted to watch the new spongebob episode but couldn’t because she was grounded.

“whatever, whatever.” you dismiss with a grin,“you’re both at fault, all that trouble to see spongebob through my window just for you guys to get grounded for another week AND not even getting to see said episode.”

sunghoon scrunched his nose in fake annoyance, barely hiding the smile tugging at his lips as you continued laughing.

he glanced at you, eyes soft with something unspoken, as a quiet warmth began to stir in his chest. his gaze shifted back to the road as he shook his head, laughing slightly at the memory.

once the laughter died down, you turned to him with a sigh and a lingering smile.

“yeah, i decided if we’re already going to be doing something we did together when we were younger, why not go all out?” you shrugged with a grin,“this our last time being ‘kids,’ or at least free from responsibilities—might as well make it fun and worth our while, right?”

sunghoon chuckled and nodded,“right.”

・୨ ✦ ୧・

the two of you had been at the lake for hours, talking about everything and nothing all at once. it was filled of laughter and nostalgia.

you took pictures with your digital camera, claiming that memories were meant to be preserved—not just remembered. sunghoon agreed with a quiet smile as you both recorded random moments on his camcorder he kept in his car—just in case memories like these came around.

you had brought along a blanket and a picnic basket packed with a blend of both your favorite dishes, that were long gone by now. he wasn’t sure when you had packed everything, but he didn’t question it.

sunghoon watched you closely as you rambled about a game that recently came out.

a unsolicited storm of unspoken feelings returned and sat heavy in his chest, but he stayed quiet. how could he tell you what was on his mind when it might ruin the peace you shared?

a sigh escaped him, soft and unbidden—born from the ache of everything left unsaid. but the thought of losing you, someone who had come to mean everything, sealed his lips with silence.

he wanted nothing more than to hold you gently—to treat you with the love he knew you deserved. but how could he, when you had no idea how deeply sunghoon felt for you?

you’d been in each other’s lives for as long as either of you could remember, and who’s to say your feelings hadn’t stayed the same?

he only wished he had shown you, back then, that he saw you as more than just a friend. it would’ve made his current predicament easier to deal with. but no amount of wishing could turn back time or rewrite the silence he’d left behind.

now, he could only choose between staying silent and protecting your friendship or voicing his feelings and hope that you feel the same.

the call of his name pulled him out of his thoughts, he blinked at you as you looked at him with knitted brows, confused. “are you okay? you blanked out for a second.”

sunghoon felt his face flush the moment he realized you noticed his silence.

“huh? oh–” he rubbed his neck, flashing a shy smile,“just.. thinking about the next few days.” he swallowed hard, hoping hoping you couldn’t hear the thudding in his chest.

you looked at him quizzically, eyes narrowing slightly before you hummed and turned away in thought.

he exhaled, relief flooding his chest when you didn’t question him further. and yet, a quiet ache remained. the words he’d spoken clung to him, far heavier in meaning than he’d let on.

a few beats of silence passed between the two of you.

it wasn’t uncomfortable—even with the ache in sunghoon’s heart, your presence felt like a warm embrace.

for a fleeting second, it felt like the world and all it’s problems had melted away. there were no words, just a shared stillness that felt like home.

time seemed to pause, and for a while, it was just you and him—nothing more, nothing less.

sunghoon can feel something unspoken had passed between you.

your gaze drifts back to him, soft and searching.

“sunghoon,” you uttered, laced with something he can’t quite place—something that makes his chest tighten.

he hums in response, eyes flicking away from yours, like he’s afraid of what he might find there. terrified of mistaking something so small for something more.

“sometimes,” you begin, voice barely above a whisper—like you’re carrying something fragile that might shatter something if you let them out.

“i think i care about you more than i should.”

his breath hitched as an invisible hand gripped his heart with so much force, he could feel the pain in his chest.

his eyes trailed back to you and absorbed your expression—unguarded and achingly vulnerable.

oh, how he wishes he could confess every thought racing through his mind—wishing he could tell you how much you truly mean to him. how deeply he cares about you.

the words are hidden under his tongue, aching to be set free. he feels the pull on his heart, its desperate to let you in.

when he finally opens his mouth, his voice betrays him.

"maybe we both do.” he paused,“but... you shouldn't say things like that unless you mean them."

・୨ ✦ ୧・

his mind was everywhere but where it needed to be.

he hadn’t slept—not with your words still echoing in his head and the weight of his own response haunting him long after the moment had passed.

he couldn’t focus, he wouldn’t let himself. his mind keeps circling back to yesterday's conversation.

how could he be so stupid? he had you right in front of him but he let you slip from his grasp.

you were so close yet so far.

maybe it didn’t mean anything. maybe nothing had changed.

god, he hoped so.

you laughed it off, changed the subject like it was nothing. he didn’t want you to—but what could he have done? he wasn’t going to force you into a conversation you don’t want to be apart of.

he wanted you to say something, to add on to what you were saying, maybe even explain what you meant, anything—but he just sat there, letting you grow distant.

you didn’t act differently on the drive home.

if anything, it was the same as the ride to the lake. it was your playful teasing and easy laughter paired with his sarcastic remarks and lighthearted banter.

you both parted briefly to shower—the lake air still clung stubbornly to his skin after the drive.

sunghoon thought that you would take that chance to no longer be in his vicinity, but surprisingly, you still came over to watch star wars with him and yeji in honor of may fourth.

you even stayed for dinner and shared laughs with his family; it was nothing new, but the twisting in his gut never left. the weight of what he didn’t say rested on his shoulders like judgment—unshifting and brutal.

you acted like everything was normal.

but that’s what scared him. because he knew you.

he knew how you avoided conflict. he knew how you’d smile through discomfort and pretend everything was fine, just so things wouldn’t get weird.

you wouldn’t tell him if he had hurt you. you wouldn’t call him out for messing up. you’d just carry it alone—and that thought alone made the ache in his heart grow sharper.

you didn’t deserve that.

you don’t deserve someone like him—someone who couldn’t even say what he really wanted without being terrified of what could happen.

you deserve a love without hesitation, and he longs to be the one to give it. he'd give up everything without a second thought if it meant he’d have an eternity with you.

it’s not even about whether you return his feelings anymore. it’s about whether you’d still choose to stay his friend, knowing he wants something more, when you don’t.

if he knew for a fact that you would still be by his side one way or another, he would confess and take the rejection. he really would.

but the thought of you pulling away, drifting so far that the two of you stopped speaking altogether—that would break him.

at least, that’s what he tells himself.

you’ve been part of his life for so long, so woven into every moment that mattered, that he simply cannot imagine a future without you in it. and now, all he could think about was how he could be the reason why you’d want to distance yourself.

he hated the thought that it might’ve been his fault.

you offered him something delicate, something unspoken and real—and he broke it before he even realized what he was holding.

that mistake might’ve cost him the one thing he never wanted to lose: you. and the only person he has to blame is himself.

or maybe… maybe he imagined it all.

what if he took it all out of context? what if he overanalyzed every word, every glance—searching for signs that weren’t even there?

maybe he was reading too far into things, twisting moments into something more than what they really were.

obsessing over gestures that were never meant to mean anything—because deep down, he so desperately wished they had.

though his mind swirled with endless possibilities, what bothered him the most was that he hadn’t seen you all day.

・୨ ✦ ୧・

sunghoon’s leg bounced anxiously under his desk—eyes flickering between the board, the clock, and his phone as if it’s going to make time go by faster.

with an irritated huff, sunghoon slumped back into his chair, arms crossed tightly over his chest—impatient and clearly annoyed by how painfully slow the class was dragging on.

every second felt deliberately stretched, like the universe was playing a cruel joke on him.

he needed to get out of this classroom.

his eyes scanned the room, trying to find something to distract him as he waited for the bell to ring.

his thoughts drifted back to this morning, he found it strange when you didn’t come out to walk with him to school at the time you usually do. still, he waited.

as the minutes ticked by and the first bell crept closer, his confusion only deepened.

what was taking you so long? you hated being late.

his mouth pulled into a faint frown.

were you avoiding him?

sunghoon bit the inside of his cheek, debating whether to knock and ask your mom if you’d left early or just leave.

he wanted to do the former but what if you needed space? he knew you wouldn’t tell him if you did—not because you didn’t care, but because you’d never want to hurt him.

you'd never been good at saying no, it just wasn’t in your nature.

so, he walked to school alone.

jake sat beside him, eyeing sunghoon with concern—to him, sunghoon was acting weird. nothing like his usual demeanor.

sunghoon wasn’t exactly known for being cheerful and all smiles, but even for him, this felt off—and he had no idea why.

jake leaned in slightly. “sunghoon,” he whispered, careful not to draw the teacher’s attention.

sunghoon stayed lost in thought, seemingly unfazed, offering no response.

jake glanced at jay, seated on his other side, who looked just as worried.

“what’s up with him?” jay murmured, nodding toward sunghoon.

jake shrugged and glanced back at sunghoon once again,“i’ve been trying to figure it out all day. he’s just been.. out of it.”

the two exchanged hushed theories, voices low, trying to piece together what could’ve left sunghoon so distant, so unlike himself, so distraught.

the sudden sound of their teacher clearing his throat brought their whispers to an abrupt halt.

they tensed as they recognize the previously unnoticed presence behind them.

they laughed nervously as their teacher shot them a sharp glare. they quickly turned back in their seats and sat up straight.

sunghoon observed the exchange with a quirked brow, only now realizing the teacher had moved from the front to the back of the class.

somehow, he missed it entirely—but there was no time to dwell on it as the bell rang, echoing through the halls, signaling the end of class and the end of the school day.

sunghoon shot to his feet so fast it left jay and jake exchanging bewildered looks before they rushed to catch up to him.

by the time they finally caught up to him, they were at the far end of the school.

jake and jay paused, trying to catch their breath before confronting sunghoon.

sunghoon did a double take when he noticed them.

“what are you guys doing here?” he asked, glancing between them with a questioning look.

“we were trying to—” jake began, panting, “—hold on.”

he doubled over coughing between words, “oh my god, i’m dying.” jake said dramatically.

jay and sunghoon grimaced and patted his back, trying to help him with whatever it is that he’s slightly choking on.

jay turned to sunghoon after giving jake his water bottle and making sure he was okay. “what he was trying to say is… what’s going on with you today? are you okay?”

jake's forehead creased with worry as jay's eyes narrowed slightly, scanning sunghoon for answers.

at the question, sunghoon’s eyes avoided jay’s, landing on the door in front of him, like it held all the answers.

he nodded slowly, shifting uncomfortably on his feet,“yeah.. why wouldn’t i be?” his hands constantly readjusting the strap of his bag.

jake followed sunghoon’s gaze, and the moment his eyes landed on the door, his mouth parted in realization.

he nearly smacked his forehead, kicking himself for not thinking of it sooner. nudging jay to get his attention, he subtly nodded toward the door.

jay turned to look—and only then did it hit him where they had followed sunghoon to.

they stood in front of the student council room—the place the council always hung out when they weren’t in class.

there was only one reason sunghoon would come here, and it’s to find you.

jay and jake exchanged a look, the pieces starting to come together—they finally had an idea of what might’ve been weighing on sunghoon.

the only problem now was figuring out how to get him to open up to them.

right before any of them could do or say anything, the door swung open with frustrated mumbles trailing behind it. their attention snapped back to the door, expecting to find you.

instead, they were met with jungwon—and a look of confusion from the student council president himself.

he stilled, eyes scanning each of their faces trying to recognize them. the four of them stood there for a moment, wrapped in a brief, awkward silence.

the three older boys stood frozen, unsure of what to do or say. it felt like they’d been caught red-handed despite not having done anything wrong.

jake opened his mouth, prepared to break the silence, but jungwon spoke first.

“ah, sunghoon hyung.” jungwon’s stiff posture relaxed slightly as recognition settled in. “sorry—it took me a second to figure out who you guys were.”

he greeted jay and jake as well, giving a quick bow before continuing, “we’ve been stuck in meetings all day because of your graduation coming up so my head is a little scrambled.” jungwon let out a sheepish laugh, clearly embarrassed.

sunghoon stood back, quietly observing as the three of them caught up—jungwon had been swamped lately with end-of-year duties, so it had been a while.

sunghoon chimed in occasionally with a comment or two, but for the most part, he stayed reserved. content to just listen.

he zoned out for a couple minutes, thinking of the other places you could be when jungwon suddenly perked up beside him. sunghoon’s eyes drifted back towards him due to his sudden movement.

“oh! sunghoon hyung, i almost forgot to tell you—” sunghoon hummed in acknowledgment, waiting for him to continue. “noona asked me to let you know she had to leave about thirty minutes ago during her free period. she got a call from home and said she’d explain everything later. she also apologized for not messaging you—said she didn’t have her phone on her, and that she’d explain that too. although, i’m not totally sure what happened. she was kind of rambling and talking really fast while running around trying to grab all her stuff.”

sunghoon smiled softly, knowing that was very on brand for you.

he already felt lighter knowing that you had promised to talk to him later. “thank you for letting me know jungwon-ya.” jungwon only nodded before jake started poking at him.

as jake teased jungwon over something trivial, sunghoon laughed and joined jake’s antics—noticing how relaxed jungwon looked for once.

jay’s shoulders shook with quiet laughter. “yah, give the poor kid a break,” he said, grinning. “he’s barely had time to breathe, and here you guys are messing with him.”

jungwon let out a dramatic groan. “next time, I’m just going to pretend I don’t know you guys and walk right past.” a mischievous glint sparked in his eyes as he added,“or i might just pull the student council president card on you.”

the three of them gasped in mock disbelief.

“you wouldn’t!” jay accused, pointing dramatically.

jungwon smirked, raising his brows. “oh, i would.”

“no way…” jake clutched sunghoon’s shoulders. “is this what betrayal feels like?”

sunghoon fought the urge to laugh, turning away from jungwon with exaggerated flair.

“i—i can’t even look at you right now.” he suddenly collapsed onto jake, dramatically wailing,“oh, what has my precious child become!”

the four of them burst into laughter at the sheer stupidity of their conversation. the air around them feeling light and tender.

jungwon grinned, his dimpled smile shining bright. “oh, what-ever! i’ll do what i must to survive. besides, you senior citizens are graduating this weekend. talk about going out with a scene.” he shook his head, clearly joking.

sunghoon found the conversation around him fading into a blur.

・୨ ✦ ୧・

he wasn’t sure how he got there, but sunghoon was at your doorstep, torn between raising his hand to knock or going back home to wait for you to find him first.

he glared at your front door, teeth tugging at the cracked skin on his lips—anxious, uncertain.

he wasn’t sure what to expect.

were you just going to move on like yesterday never happened? the idea made his brows crease.

he didn’t want you to brush off what you said yesterday—but he had no idea how to bring it up himself.

what if you didn’t mean it the way he thought you did?

had he really let himself believe you meant something more?

had the line between his desires and your intentions blurred so much that he couldn’t tell when you were just being friendly?

his jaw clenched in quiet frustration.

when had your actions become so hard to read that he couldn’t tell where genuine affection ended and casual kindness began?

maybe the line was never blurred—you were just kind, and he was just foolish enough to hope it was something else.

with a heavy sigh, sunghoon’s head dropped into his hands as the weight of it all pressed down on him.

his mind was spinning, thoughts pounding so loud it hurt—each one louder than the last, his skull throbbing.

it shouldn’t be this hard, but it always was.

he stood there, swallowed whole by the never ending spiral he always found himself in.

he scoffed under his breath.

why did he have to be such a coward?

a voice spoke up behind him, startling him. “unless you’ve got secret powers, you might want to try knocking, sunghoon-ah.”

sunghoon stepped back, heat rising to his cheeks as he turned to face your mother.

he dipped his head with a sheepish grin, “ah, sorry, imo.” he laughed nervously, hand reaching up to scratch the back of his head. “i wasn’t sure if anyone was home.”

she glanced at him with amusement.

“i see,” your mother said with a knowing smile, brushing past sunghoon to unlock the door. “there’s no need to stand out here like a stranger, sunghoon-ah.”

once the door was unlocked, she pushed it open and gestured him to come in. “you know you’re always welcome here—so don’t to hesitate to knock. you’re practically family at this point.”

sunghoon smiled faintly, bowing in gratitude before stepping inside.

his gaze swept the room with a quiet kind of recognition—that familiar feeling from yesterday settled over him again.

it was déjà vu, laced with something heavier. a hush of melancholy lingered in the air.

it was that same quiet ache, longing mixed with sorrow—as if he’d slipped into a memory he desperately wanted to relive.

sunghoon refused to acknowledge it, pushing the feeling aside.

instead, he made small talk with your mom—asking how work had been, how your dad was doing and when he’d be back from his work trip.

not even an hour had passed when he heard the soft click of the front door.

everything around him faded into silence the moment he saw you. all he could do was take in your presence.

“eomma! you won’t believe who i saw at the market.” you groaned, placing the grocery bags on the floor and slipping into your house slippers with practiced ease.

you rambled on, only to pause mid-sentence when your eyes finally met sunghoon’s. your features lit up.

“i was wondering when you’d show up.” you said, smiling so wide, it reached your eyes. “what took you so long?”

he hadn’t realized you could shine this brightly—your smile lit up the room, your eyes glittering with something pure.

sunghoon felt it hit him all at once, like light pouring through cracks.

the noise in his head faded, the heaviness in his chest eased, replaced by something warm and light that touched the sore parts of his heart.

you always had that effect on him—your presence settled into him like sunlight seeping through closed curtains.

you made him feel seen, even without him having to speak. and he kept chasing that quiet sense of peace, drawn to the only thing that ever truly grounded him.

you.

you went on,“have you been waiting long?”

sunghoon shook his head and walked over, “i got here around the same time as your mom.” he replied. gently taking the grocery bags from your hands.

your fingertips brushed his, lingering like fire on his skin—a sensation that burned deeper than he’d ever admit.

after a quick glance at the time, you gave a small nod with a faint smile. “so, about thirty minutes ago? that’s not too bad.”

sunghoon set the bags on the counter and began handing you items as you put them away, falling into an easy rhythm beside you.

the two of you slipped into conversation, unaware of the fond smile your mom wore as she watched from across the room.

she excused herself, saying work had worn her out and she needed to wind down for the night.

you both wished her goodnight after confirming she didn’t want anything to eat.

once you finished organizing the kitchen, you dragged sunghoon to the living room.

“seeing that you’re here, i figure jungwon was able to reach you, right?” you question with a knowing grin.

sunghoon let out a soft chuckle as he settled onto your sofa.

“didn’t expect you to forget your phone—you’re usually glued to it. for you, that’s like saying you forgot how to breathe,” he teased, flashing a dimpled grin. “what happened? decided you finally wanted to touch grass?”

you rolled your eyes. “ha, ha. very funny.” you flicked his forehead lightly. “i’m laughing so hard, i think i might pass out.”

he laughed. “you should be grateful, you basically have a comedic genius for a friend.” he tilted his chin smugly,“not many people can say that.”

“oh my gosh, you’re so right!” you replied, voice dripping with sarcasm. “how could i not when i have front-row seats to your one-man show, delusions and dimples? truly, i’m blessed.”

he leaned back, still grinning. “i’d ask for a tip, but i already know i’m your favorite act.”

you scoffed. “oh, absolutely. i tune in every week just to remind myself what not to laugh at.”

he shot you a playful look,“just say i’m funny—your pride will survive, i promise.”

“yeah, you’re funny—” you paused, a mischievous glint in your eye,“—looking. ohhh!” you gasped dramatically, yelling as you covered your mouth and pointed at him before bursting into laughter.

he threw his head back with an exaggerated groan. “you’re unbelievable.” he bit back a smile, shaking his head in mock defeat.

once your laughter faded, you finally took the chance to explain yourself.

“anyways, like i was saying before you decided to be funny,” you said, shooting him a playful glare. “i forgot the council had meetings all day today. i was rushing to get ready and thought i put my phone in my pocket, when i didn’t. i didn’t even realize until i got to my first meeting at seven. so i couldn’t text you not to wait on me since i was already stuck at school with the rest of the council.”

sunghoon nodded along, eyes focused on you as you spoke.

“then, when we were done with the meetings,” you continued, “my dad called the school trying to get a hold of me since i wasn’t answering my phone—he wanted me to pick up the gift he got for my mom for mother’s day this weekend. i tried seeing if i could go after school ended so you could come with me after your class, but he said the store wouldn’t hold it if someone else wanted it. so i left in a rush again and asked jungwon to do me the favor of letting you know.”

you pursed your lips, trying to think if you’d missed anything.

“and once i got home, i was waiting for you—but then my mom called and asked if i could grab a few things from the store. and now…” you gestured loosely around you, shrugging. “here we are.”

he blinked slowly. “wow. you really know how to keep a guy on his toes.” he tilted his head, voice light. “next time, just send a carrier pigeon.”

you arched a brow, fighting back a smile.

“and spoil you with instant updates? i’d hate to ruin the suspense.” then, with a dramatic hair flip, you added, “you know i’ve got a mysterious and nonchalant persona to maintain.”

sunghoon scoffed, “yeah, right! you’re like, the least nonchalant person i know.” he threw a pillow towards you, chuckling lightly. “you’d trip over your own ‘mysterious aura’ five minutes in.”

you waved a hand dramatically. “well, being unforgettable is kind of my thing. i keep things interesting.” then, with a pointed stare, you added, “you clearly don’t understand the art of subtle chaos.”

sunghoon hummed, then gave you a small smile, his eyes softer now.

“you really didn’t have to explain all that.” he nudged your knee with his. “but i’m glad you did.”

you gave him a small smile in return.

“i just didn’t want you to think i was avoiding you or anything.” your voice dropped a little. “i would’ve told you if i could.”

“i know you would’ve,” he gave a small shrug. “i just didn’t expect an explanation. i mean… it’s just me.”

you looked at him, expression gentle.

“you don’t have to be ‘someone special’ for me to care. you just… matter to me.” he felt your eyes on him—careful, almost hesitant, like you were trying to read him. “i explained myself because i wanted to, not because i had to.”

his heart pounded so hard it echoed in his ears, and for a moment, he wondered if you could feel it too.

・୨ ✦ ୧・

confetti surrounded everyone after the principal congratulated the graduating class for the final time.

cheers in the stadium echoed, the moment felt euphoric.

students tossed their hats into the air, laughter and tears being mixed in the breeze.

happiness lingered—the kind that comes with endings, beginnings, and everything in between.

sunghoon turned to you with a wide smile, met instantly by yours. your eyes shined beneath the confetti filled sky.

he swept you into his arms, spinning you in a whirl of celebration and color, your laughter rising above the chaos in a way that made everything else fade.

his heart felt light, full of pride and something softer, as he thought about how far you both had come.

after the ceremony and dozens of photos, both your families came together for a celebratory dinner—laughter, stories, and congratulations shared over clinking glasses and full plates.

sunghoon watched as his family effortlessly blended with yours, the familiarity between them clear in every laugh and shared memory.

moments like this had always stretched into hours—it was just how things were. and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

his eyes scanned the room until they landed on you, sitting beside his sister.

the sight made him smile—he cared deeply for you both, and watching you get along always stirred something warm in his chest.

his head tilted slightly when he caught yeji’s mischievous expression, paired with your confused one as you tried to follow whatever she was saying.

it wasn’t until yeji caught his eye and shot him a wink paired with a smirk that his heart sank.

what was she telling you?

he shifted in place, debating whether to walk over or let it play out. but the way your brows furrowed had him already taking a step in your direction—just in case.

once he was close enough, sunghoon caught yeji saying,“he once cried over a dog in a movie and blamed it on ‘allergies.’ don’t let the cool act fool you.”

he let out a quiet groan from behind her. “will you ever let that go? seriously, it’s like your life mission is to embarrass me in front of people who aren’t family.”

he had no idea what the conversation was about before that, but he could only hope yeji had stuck to harmless stories and nothing more dangerous.

you laughed before teasing,“ i thought he was nonchalant.” you glanced at him with a grin. “guess the act’s been cracked.”

“nonchalant is literally my brand.” he side-eyed yeji. “you just love ruining the mystery, don’t you?”

yeji rolled her eyes. “oh please. unnie’s been in your life longer than i have—she already knows you’re not nearly as mysterious or nonchalant as you think you are.”

sunghoon frowned,“with all this betrayal, it’s obvious who the favorite park is—and which graduate you’re rooting for, yeji.”

you nudged his arm. “don’t worry, you’re still my favorite… most of the time.”

yeji crossed her arms, smugly. “don’t be mad because she likes me more, oppa. i’m just the better choice.”

he let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “you two are unreal.”

the three of you kept talking, laughter fading into softer conversations as the night wore on.

slowly, the house settled into silence as people slipped out the door with quiet goodbyes and others deciding to call it a night.

yeji followed soon after, claiming she was tired before bidding the two of you goodnight and retreating to her room.

sunghoon glanced to his side when he felt the warmth next to him vanish—your absence noticeable the moment you stepped away.

he stayed quiet, simply watching as you walked toward the front door, stopping before you reached it.

you turned back to him with a grin. “you coming, or not?”

his smile softened. “wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

he stood and made his way over to you, grabbing his jacket and keys along the way.

with a small gesture, he nodded ahead, letting you guide him through the quiet night—because somehow, being with you always felt like the right direction.

・୨ ✦ ୧・

sunghoon’s fingers tapped along the steering wheel, matching the rhythm of the song blaring through his car speakers.

he drove toward a familiar spot—the one the two of you always seemed to end up at when it felt like it was just you and him against the world.

you sat beside him, singing along without a care, creating your own little performance as he drove.

a faint smile lingered on his lips, your presence grounded him, yet stirred the familiar ache in his chest.

being beside you felt like holding onto something precious with both hands—afraid it might slip away, even though it was right there.

you slip so seamlessly into the cracks of his world, filling spaces he didn’t even know were empty.

you’ve become the quiet force holding him together, the part of him that made the rest feel less scattered.

he glanced back at you, his gaze tracing your features like they were something he could never get tired of looking at.

his eyes shifted back to the road.

in a world where everything kept changing, you were the one thing he always wanted to stay.

the moment sunghoon pulled in, you were already out of the car—like the place had been calling your name.

sunghoon watched you jump out with a shake of his head and a grin.

“you know, normal people wait for the car to stop first,” he called after you, though his tone was all fondness.

he lingered for a second, eyes trailing after you as you ran ahead.

there was something about the way you lit up in certain places, like this one, that made following you feel like the easiest choice in the world.

he made his way to you, breathing in the crisp mountain air as the city shimmered below.

you spun toward him with a glowing smile, eyes glistening like the city lights dancing behind you.

“you always take your time, huh?” you teased, hand slipping around his wrist as you led him to the bench—your shared place to watch the world glow from a distance.

he smirked as he took a seat beside you. “maybe. or maybe I just like seeing if you’ll wait for me.”

you laughed softly, as the lights below flickered like stars. “well, you make it really hard not to.”

while you admired the city below, sunghoon’s gaze never left you, quietly memorizing the moment he already feared of losing.

you both sat in silence, your presence a quiet comfort against the cool summer night.

it’s not like he didn’t want to say anything, he simply didn’t trust his voice. you were just inches away—yet somehow, you still felt out of reach.

he wondered if you knew.

if you could feel how his heart always settled in your presence, how you turned the weight he carried into something lighter.

if you noticed how silence never felt heavy when it was shared with you.

he didn’t need the city lights or the view. he just needed this—whatever this was. whatever you were.

he desperately wanted to reach towards you and tell you everything that he was so afraid of saying.

he ached to tell you, to unravel every truth he’d buried.

he longed to close the distance, to finally speak of the weight in his chest, but the fear that opening his heart would drive you away still lingered—the fear that honesty might cost him the only thing that ever made him feel whole.

but he could feel the confession resting on the tip of his tongue—ready, waiting, willing to let you into his heart.

and though those quiet fears still lingered, their grip was loosening, slowly releasing him from the weight they carried. because right now, in this moment,

it was just you and him.

“this view always has been beautiful.” you murmured, glancing over. but when you turned, he was already looking at you—like the view didn’t matter at all.

“it is beautiful,” he whispered, eyes still on you.

your expression softened into something tender before you turned your gaze back to the city below.

the silence stretched between you as his gaze followed the gentle curve of your profile, admiring how the lights kissed your skin.

he called your name under his breath, barely audible—like part of him hoped you wouldn’t hear it, and the other part needed you to.

a curious hum escaped you as you turned to meet his eyes.

“I…” sunghoon sighed, pressing his lips together.

he looked away for a moment, searching for the right words, before turning back to you.

your gaze hadn’t wavered—still fixed on him, calm and patient, as if you were giving him all the time he needed.

your expression remained soft, touched with quiet curiosity, silently urging him on.

just as his mouth parted, ready to tell you everything—the words stalled on his tongue, trembling at the edge of something real.

for a heartbeat, everything stood still.

but then, almost subtly, the moment began to slip.

the lights dimmed, the cold crept in, and your face, that so clear just seconds ago, blurred around the edges.

he reached for you, hands trembling—desperate to hold onto you as you disappeared into the dark.

you were slipping through his fingers like something that was never meant to stay.

the memory of you blurred, fading into a silence that felt heavier than anything he’d ever known. he felt like he was drowning as the unfamiliar darkness swallowed him whole.

he had been so close. so unbearably close, with his heart in his throat, ready to pour it all out—ready to tell you how much he cared, how deeply and hopelessly he loved you, like his heart had been shaped only to hold yours, and no one else’s.

how loving you had become the only thing that made sense, the only thing that felt like it was written into his bones, something he was meant to do.

something that just came naturally.

how you were the quiet ache behind everything he touched, how his heart had been quietly, endlessly breaking with a love he never quite knew how to give—but had always, always wanted to give to you.

・୨ ✦ ୧・

sunghoon shot up from his bed, breath shaky and uneven.

it took him a moment to remember where he was, to realize you weren’t there.

the silence in the room felt colder than it should’ve, your name still clinging to the back of his throat.

sunghoon jumped at the sudden voice that pulled him out of his daze,“you okay, sunghoon?”

his gaze landed on the two figures standing across the room, having just stepped through the door.

jay and jake stood still, concern written all over their faces—whatever they had been talking about before was clearly left behind the moment they saw him.

it wasn’t until then that he truly registered where he was. not with you. not under the city lights. but here, in his college dorm.

he blinked, trying to slow his breathing, but the weight in his chest hadn’t left. it sat there—heavy, hollow.

sunghoon gave a small nod, though it was far from convincing. “yeah,” he muttered, barely above a whisper. “just… a dream.”

jake looked like he wanted to say something else, but didn’t. instead, he shared a glance with jay—one that said enough.

jay’s frown deepened, concern etched across his face, but neither of them pushed.

the room fell into a quiet tension, the kind that only came when something important went unspoken.

sunghoon didn’t meet their eyes. he looked down at his hands, and they were still trembling slightly.

he had been so close.

the dream still clung to him like a second skin, impossible to shake. it settled in his chest, quiet but suffocating.

all he could do was dwell on what could’ve happened—what he should’ve said when he had the chance.

his eyes drifted to the photos pinned to his wall, pictures of you and him frozen in time, smiling like nothing would ever change. but he knew better.

he was just the friend you grew up with—the one you’d never see that way.

he’ll always yours in silence, never in name.

⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ MIV— hope you enjoyed! i also apologize if some of the wording does not make sense, i did go over it but in a rush so it's not perfect. i spent days on this because i kept getting side tracked. the amount of times i paused bc i was crashing out is crazy. but i can’t really complain bc im the one that’s writing it so i could quite literally change whatever i want LMAOOO. now that i finished this, i actually have to do my homework. i do not think i will be posting a story or update until maybe the end of next week because of my finals. so, i apologize in advance but college is just kicking my butt rn 😢

please DO NOT steal, plagiarize, copy, repost, alter, or translate ANY of my works in any way.

[juicycoutureheaux]

Pairing: Mark Grayson x TransferStudent!Reader

A/N: This is inspired by @wordsofwhimsy southern belle reader. As a girl from Georgia, I loved the idea of a transfer student from the south. This is short fluff, I don’t know if I’ll turn it into a multi chapter or keep it as just a fluffy one shot. This is definitely AU. I didn’t know how to fit in Amber into this if it becomes multi chapter.

No TW’s.

Y/N tapped her pink-painted nails on the desk, a soft rhythm filling the quiet classroom. Her gaze wandered out the window, where a squirrel was in a full-blown loop of climbing up and down the same tree. It was almost funny enough to distract her from the knot in her stomach.

She was early. She was always early—part nerves, part habit. Her family had just moved up from South Georgia, and this was her first day as the new kid. She had gone to the same Christian school her entire life. Now, she was a senior in a public school where cliques were sealed shut, and no one knew her name.

The culture shock hit hard. No uniforms, for starters. She hadn’t known what to wear. Her first day outfit—a Lily Pulitzer shift dress and white cardigan—made her stand out like a highlighter in a sea of hoodies and skinny jeans. She tried not to let it get to her. She liked the way she dressed. That should be enough, right?

Today she wore a pink gingham dress and the same monogrammed cardigan. A delicate strand of pearls sat at her collarbone, and her golden-brown curls were half-pulled back with a ribbon. She felt like springtime in a room full of November.

The classroom door banged open.

A tall boy with black hair rushed in, clearly late. His backpack half-zipped, one shoelace untied. He scanned the room quickly—and his eyes landed on the open seat next to you..

He hesitated.

“Is this seat taken? I mean—of course it is, I’ll find somewhere else—”

“Wait!” You blurted. “It’s not. You can sit here.”

He blinked, caught off guard. Then offered a crooked smile. “Thanks.” He sat, dropping his bag with a thud. “I’m Mark.”

“I’m y/n.” She tucked a curl behind her ear, heart fluttering. He was the first person to talk to her all morning.

Mark gave a little nod, but the silence crept in quickly. You cleared your throat.

“So… how long have you gone to school here?”

Mark straightened in his seat. “Since freshman year!” he said a little too enthusiastically. His ears turned pink.

You giggled softly. “That’s awesome. Have you lived here your whole life?”

“Yeah, born and raised. You’re not from around here, I’m guessing?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Kind of.” He grinned. “You dress like you walked out of a magazine ad. In a good way!”

You blushed. “Thanks. I’m from Savannah. I used to go to a private Christian school. We had uniforms, so this whole ‘pick your outfit every day’ thing is… kind of intense.”

Mark laughed. “Honestly, uniforms sound great. Half the time I just wear whatever smells clean.”

She laughed again, brighter this time. “I kind of miss the simplicity. And the style here is so different—dark colors, graphic tees. I feel like a cupcake in a room full of Hot Topics.”

Mark’s gaze dropped to her dress for the first time. “Well, I like cupcakes. Especially pink ones. You look… um, really nice.”

She tilted her head. “Like Barbie?”

He winced. “Okay, that sounded better in my head—”

“No, no! I love Barbie.” Your eyes lit up. “She has, like, a thousand careers. What’s not to love?”

Mark chuckled. “Fair enough.”

Before he could say anything else, the teacher called class to order. They shared a textbook since Mark had forgotten his. Anna didn’t mind. She liked the way he kept whispering sarcastic comments during the video about photosynthesis. She had to bite her lip not to laugh out loud.

When class ended, Mark stood up slowly, surprised when you stood next to him.

“What’s your next class?” he asked.

“English, I think? Room 208?”

“No way. Me too.” He smiled. “Guess you’re stuck with me again.”

You blinked. “I’m never this lucky.”

Mark’s eyes widened, and he flushed. “Uh…”

“I mean—just having a friendly face in two classes. That’s all.” You fumbled over your words.

He smiled, heart pounding. “Where in Georgia did you say you were from?”

“Savannah. It’s all old trees and humid summers. And way too many tourists.”

“I’ve only seen it in movies. It sounds nice.”

“Yeah… quieter than here. And nobody wears all black.”

Mark laughed. “So is it a rule where you’re from? Skirts and pastels?”

You giggled. “Not a rule, just… tradition, I guess? It’s how my mom dressed, and her mom. It’s kind of fun, dressing up every day.”

“Well… I think it suits you,” he said, looking genuinely impressed now. “You make it look cool.”

Before you could respond, a tall, broad-shouldered blonde guy swaggered up.

“Grayson,” he sneered, eyeing Mark. “This guy bothering you?” he asked you, full of mock concern.

You blinked. “Do I know you?”

Todd raised an eyebrow. “I’m just wondering what a girl like you’s doing sitting next to him.”

You crossed your arms. “Weren’t you just leaving?”

Todd squinted. “What?”

You tilted your head, voice sweet as honey. “You said you were leaving. Or… was that wishful thinking?”

Todd’s face turned pink. “Uh—whatever.” He turned and walked off, mumbling something under his breath.

Mark stared. “He never leaves without trying to embarrass me. How did you do that?”

Anna smirked. “Gaslighting.”

They both laughed.

“Seriously,” Mark said as they walked down the hall together, “you’re kind of amazing.”

You smiled. “You’re kind of the first person who’s been nice to me today. I think I’m keeping you.”

Mark’s heart did a backflip.

[thezombieprostitute]

Tech Tuesday: Jake Jensen

Summary: The Twins turn 4 years old!

Warnings: None. Please let me know if I missed any!

A/N: Reader is female. No other physical descriptors used.

Previous

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

The twins are four years old today and it's a bittersweet realization for you and Jake. Your babies are growing up. Soon they'll be in school. They're such good kids and you know they'll do well, but it's still sad that they'll never be so small again. They're getting more independent, able to walk up and down stairs on their own, having entire adventures without you on the playground.

One of their friends had gotten them into Bluey and their first time watching it had a tea party. Between that and your reading of Alice in Wonderland, and other books with tea, the Twins had begged for a tea party themed birthday. You read up on all of the things you would need, asked the Twins about their requirements (fancy dress? Yes. Actual tea? No.) They even asked about sending out paper invitations "because it's pwoper" and were only too happy to sign their names on each one.

In preparation, you had the twins taste test various tea and tea alternatives. Iced tea was an immediate "no" and had the twins second guessing the tea party idea. Thankfully there were some juices that looked like tea that would work. So long as it was poured from a teapot into a teacup, that's what really mattered to them.

The party was bigger than previous ones. Your little family had grown as the twins had adopted the D&D Group as honorary uncles. Thankfully everyone was more than happy to dress up for the event. Jake's sister and niece were only too happy for an excuse to wear a new dress. Your own parents made sure to run a few clothing ideas by you for approval before buying something for the occasion. Unca Gera promised to wear a suit jacket he'd made himself while Unca Gee went for his good leather jacket and Unca 'ansom said he was planning on wearing good clothes he kept from his old life.

You'd been worried about not having anything nice enough for the party. Sure, the Twins would be happy with whatever you and Jake wore, but you still worried about letting them down. Jake must have sensed something because, the weekend before the party, he asked about taking you and the Twins to the mall so they could pick out your outfits for themselves. Naturally the Twins were ecstatic about getting so much control and it really would help settle some of your fears, so you agreed.

The mall wasn't too crowded, thankfully, making it easy to keep an eye on the toddlers. They were at the age where they insisted on walking everywhere with no thought of how tired out they would be. Leia had pointedly told Jake to not bring the stroller in with them, but Jake insisted he needed to bring it "just in case".

"It's good to be prepared, Leia," you add. "What if we end up buying so many clothes we can't carry the bags? The stroller will help out."

"Twue," she nods. "Okay, you can bwing it, Dada."

"Thank you," he nods with a small bow and a smile.

"We'll start with getting something for Dada," you think out loud. "Men's departments tend to have fewer options, so it should be kinda easy for you two to decide." Luke holds your hand and nods, his face serious and focused on the mission. "Then we'll go shopping for me. Sound good?"

"Yup!" Leia agrees, bouncing as she holds Jake's hand.

Once inside the store, Jake feels Leia trying to break free of his grasp. "You doing okay there?"

"Just wanna go find da clothes," she attests. "But I can't see where dey are. Can you carry me? So I can see?"

"I don't know that I'm strong enough," he playfully protests. "You're getting so big!"

"I am a big girl, but you're a stwong Dada," she counters. "Stwongest Dada!"

"Well, okay." Jake kneels down and you stand nearby to help as he positions Leia on his shoulders. As soon as he stands up you grab the stroller. Thankfully for your back Luke seems content to stay on the ground, preferring to walk for himself.

Leia surveys the store layout. While she can't read, she does recognize the pictures. She points to a section in the far back corner. "We gots to go there for Dada's suit."

"Oh, I'm getting a suit am I?"

"Uh huh," Luke confirms. "Gotta wook nice. Is tea party!"

As you predicted, the search for a good suit for Jake is quick. The twins aren't happy with the limited options but they ultimately choose a blue "jacket" and shirt to go with a pair of his nice work slacks. You and Jake make sure to praise the toddlers so they're less upset about having to settle.

Taking them to the women's section of the store, where there are too many options, doesn't seem to help things much. Leia was off of Jake's shoulders and walking around, wide eyed, seemingly unsure. Luke held her hand and started pointing at different options while you and Jake followed. Leia would look at Luke's options and scrunch her face in concentration before shaking her head no.

"Needs to be pwetty. The pwettiest," she explains as Luke nods, understanding.

You and Jake are all smiles with how seriously the Twins are taking this. Watching them while holding hands brings with it a kind of contentment. You lean in closer to Jake, just happy to be doing this with him.

A small gasp from the Twins gets your attention. They both go running towards an off-the-shoulder dress covered in brightly colored flowers.

The first thing you check is the price tag and you do your best to school your features so as to not scare the kids. It's definitely your size, and they're excited about it, but that price tag has you nervous.

"How about you try it on?" Jake encourages. "The changing rooms are over there. I'll watch the Twins."

"Are...are you sure?"

"Yes! Wanna see how pwetty you are Mama!" Leia urges, Luke nodding along with her.

"Okay, I'll go try it on, make sure it fits," you nod, as you head to the changing area.

Once you're behind the door, your phone beeps with a text. You take a look and it's from Jake.

Don't sweat the price tag, Sunshine. We've got it covered. 😘😘😘😘😘😘

You let out a sigh of relief that's almost a sob. You're not sure you'll ever get used to being able to afford things but you're so happy Jake picked up on your distress.

Checking yourself out in the mirror, your eyes go to your stomach, as they often do. Carrying twins for nine months did a number on you. But Jake never stopped calling you beautiful. Never looked at you with anything less than love. Never hesitated to touch you when you needed him to. To him, your body would always be amazing because it's you. And he definitely loves you.

The dress fits you quite well and, you have to admit, the Twins have good taste. You'll make sure to tell Jake they got that from you.

You step out of the changing room and your smile widens when you hear the quiet "wow!" from Leia, see Luke's eyes widen and Jake's smile.

"I think we've got a winner!" you beam.

The day of the party is a flurry of activity. The Twins are excited for the fun and asking a million questions about what you're doing and why. Every decision is approved by them, of course, but they need an outlet for their excitement.

Jake is his naturally helpful self for the whole thing. You needed him to pick up last minute ingredients? Done. You need him to assemble the table for the party? Done. You need him to hug you and reassure you that everything's looking amazing? Definitely done. He's even doing his best to distract the Twins so you can work in peace but they love having the final say in things and getting to taste test everything.

Thankfully, when the guests start arriving, you're pretty well ready and the Twins insist on greeting everyone because "it's pwoper." You and Jake get a minute alone in the kitchen and he wraps his arms around you and kisses you. He looks into your eyes and says with all sincerity, "thank you for all of this." You happily return the kiss before it's time to get back to the chaos of the party.

-----

That night it doesn't take long to get the Twins to sleep. Luke is still wearing the toy stethoscope he got as part of his stuffed animal veterinarian set while Leia, even in sleep, has a death grip on her new wooden dagger that the G's had gotten her. You're still glad Jake managed to talk them down from the dulled Narsil replica.

It's a bittersweet moment when you put the Twins to bed. They've graduated from cribs and are now sleeping in actual beds. They're growing up so quickly.

Jake catches the tears at the corner of your eyes and gently wipes them away, his eyes full of concern.

"I'll be okay," you reassure. "They're just...soon they won't be babies."

Jake nods, understanding. "They're even getting too big to carry."

"And they're going to start preschool this fall."

Jake sighs, "and I'm pretty sure I just got another grey hair with that reminder." You chuckle at his melodrama. "But they're good kids, who've got nothing but love. What more could we ask for?"

You gently squeeze his hand. "Thank you, Jake. Between you, the Twins, the biological family and all the adopted uncles, I couldn't ask for a happier family."

"It couldn't happen without you, Sunshine," Jake attests. "Thank you for making me the happiest man in the world."

"And thank you for taking care of us, making me feel so loved every day."

"What do you say to a full night of cuddles?"

"I say that sounds lovely."

Next

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory; @late-to-the-party-81; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly; @thiquefunlover63

[satansluckycigarette]

Agreed. As I stated in the tags, this post is in reference to it having been No Kings Day in Massachusetts. Most white people two hundred and fifty years ago were extremely racist and even the abolitionists- who did exist at that time- held views we would still find problematic: many still believing in a sort of proto-Manifest Destiny in regards to Indigenous Americans, opposing slavery because it encouraged laziness rather than because it was an absolute evil (some did view it correctly but they were a slim minority), and often the people on the right side of the race issue were horrifically wrong about women or queer people: all of them beat their kids.

However, there's still room for them to be right about other things. It is wrong to arrest someone without trial, to open fire on protesters, to burn the homes of suspected dissidents, to disappear people an authority figure has othered, to levy burdensome tariffs, etc. and they were right to call this out for what it was.

People in Trump's circle are very much attempting to recreate the culture that existed in the wake of the revolution: they are using laws passed by the Adam's administration to erase hundreds of years of precedent, they are calling on a return to concepts of Manifest Destiny, they are disappearing citizens in ways that reflect the imperialist powers of that time, and some of them have openly called for reinstating the institution of slavery. In light of this, it is absolutely correct and necessary to point out the fundamental disconnect their faux-patriotism has with the Founding Fathers ideas.

I don't think America should exist. I think the nation should seed it's sovereignty to the reservation governments and allow them to reorganize it as they see fit, and if that means my "descendent of colonizers, slavers, pirates, and fur traders" ass goes back to my family's ancestral home in the Scottish Lowlands: so be it. That said, I still know what the founders believed and I know it's not whatever the fuck Trump's doing.

I feel like this is a great time to remind everyone that the reasons the founding fathers fought the Revolutionary War were: 1) burdensome tariffs placed on goods imported into the colonies from other countries, 2) the suspension of the right to assembly and fair trial for political dissenters, and 3) violence towards colonial communities known for anti-imperial sentiment (The Boston Massacre, the burning of Falmouth, etc)

Trump's burrowing from someone's playbook and it ain't George Washington's.

[santae-salt]

CJ, salties, genuine and troll commenters - we need to have a discussion about emotional boundaries and emotional manipulation.

What CJ did last night was highly unprofessional and unacceptable for someone fostering minors in his community. I think it's sobering to remember that individuals as young as 13 years old can freely join and play. They could be in the discord. They could have witnessed whatever that was last night and it could impact them negatively. It is highly inappropriate to trauma dump in his discord as an owner; I understand that he feel victimized and it's valid to feel feelings, I'm not telling him that he can't, but CJ as the responsible adult need to understand that he shouldn't use his pet site audience as his dumping ground. I understand that this may frustrate and piss him off, but he needs to understand the gravity of being the owner of Santae.

I also understand it may frustrate him that I'm not placing any share of the blame on the parties that he views as attackers. This isn't what I'm talking about right now, so I'm not touching on that. That's all.

CJ, to address you directly - you are not a regular player just like "all of you". You are a developer. You hold a certain power by that title alone that, when you act like you did last night, can be classified as emotional manipulation. By bringing your significant other into the conversation, how horrible you feel, how bullied you are - it gives the idea that you are actively searching for 1) immediate sympathy and 2) people to defend you. You overstepped a massive, and concerning, boundary last night. I'll keep repeating it because of how strongly I feel about it.

You may not mean for this, and I'm not making fun of you or attacking you for saying this. I want to make that clear. You need someone unbiased who doesn't know you personally to talk to, like an actual therapist or another outside completely unrelated source. Talking to anyone close to Santae (or you) results in an echo chamber that spirals and revolves and wraps you up in stress. There's no separation and that's hard for anyone's mental health. Users aren't there to buffer your feelings. They're there to be users.

And for what it's worth, this unprofessionalism has been a concern since Santae has first kicked off. If you search the Santae tag on Tumblr and read some of the comments on the older posts regarding issues (the ID request, artist issues, etc) you'll see people expressing their concern about the development team not being able to maintain boundaries.

One example: you sent an email when you blocked someone that was wholly inappropriate and should be addressed, quite frankly. You didn't maintain the boundary of just banning the user and blocking them like an adult who owns a pet site, you had to stoop down into your wounded feelings and wield that power one more time to try and harm them the way that you felt harmed. You're mixing your personal feelings with professional actions and this will not assure the longevity of Santae. At all.

"To take words and share them publicly, stripped of context and trust like everyone else chooses to do. For what, we may never understand what happiness or joy you and a select group choose to speak in a bad way on any topic without telling the entire story. is not only deeply disappointing, but also a violation of the standards we expect every member to uphold."

This is absolutely emotional manipulation, an egregious crossing of boundaries re: owner vs user, and just unacceptable. Santae is close to you, but an attack on Santae shouldn't be an attack on you. CJ and Santae are two different entities. It's troubling that you and Santae seemed so tightly intertwined that you can no longer tell the difference.

This has gone on long enough, so I'll wrap it up here. Fwiw, I hope your s/o feels better, genuinely. I really do hope you take this as a genuine conversation of concern.

I hope you figure it out man. Yeah, it sucks. But that's part of being at the top. It's gonna suck, but you have to hold onto the positive and try to figure out the change it's going to take to get yourself in a better headspace.

☁️

[redhelmetguy]

haven't posted in ages due to reasons but I just remembered I had this old ass thing so I decided hey might as well so here it is

I couldn't decide on who that guy should be so. He's just a guy I guess. Also you can't see her but Cassandra is the fourth person behind everyone. I came up with a whole ass story but I'll just put that under the cut.

but uhh yeah thats all see ya later and stuff

Duke was upset at Bruce for whatever reason and Steph's always looking for a way to mess with him and Cassandra ofc had to join. Plan was to go to McDonalds in full costume very visible to the public to give Bruce an aneurism or something but as none of them have cars to get there (Crystal does not let Steph use hers anymore) and Bruce was in the cave so Duke was like "hey Jason can probably help"

Turns out he only owns a motorcycle and stealing a car would probably be too far. but then Jason had the wonderful idea of a cardboard fucking car. Walking all the way there was totally worth it

[kattsmuse]

TF 141 Flirting Styles and Love Languages

What started as an ask from Ty ( @siriuslysmutty ) turned into a really long ramble, mostly because of Johnny. I decided to break it into a mini series. Here's how I think Johnny would flirt, and fail miserably at a suave first impression. This man thinks he's so cool and alluring, which he is... but when he tries to be, he trips over himself.

Note: I personally do not write accents/spell the way they sound because I find it difficult for myself to do as well as difficult for some individuals to read.

Please see this post for more information on my reasonings for this

Remember lead with kindness <3

Johnny McTavish Flirting Headcannon

I was probably the most torn on Johnny. I feel as though he exists somewhere between feral little shit and adhering to his religion. I don't think it's as much of a "one or the other" situation. While I love the idea of Johnny not wanting to be intimate until marriage (and proposing while he's grinding all up on you so he can have a taste), I don't think that's the most realistic for him. I think Johnny is very flirty, fails at it, and uses it as a broken mask.

He sees you in a bar and just cannot take his eyes off of you. He isn't so innocent in his gaze, but he waits. He does his utmost to read your body language and ensure you're not married. Glance down the finger, no ring - nor is there a tan line where a ring should be. Watching the men you interact with. Not one of them has an ounce of familiarity. At a bare minimum you are on a first date. While Johnny is observant, he's also incredibly impulsive.

He's tried to learn from John. Observe, gather information, plan, approach. Johnny can be patient, but that patience wears thin all too quickly. In comparison, John's patience is like a quilt compared to Johnny's tinfoil. Once Johnny can be sure you're not outwardly committed, he approaches. Every ripple of his muscles burn with anticipation as he grows closer to you.

He's got it all planned out in his mind. Some charming pick-up line and you'll be putty in his hands.... (giggles and little devil emoji)

He sits beside you, opens his mouth to speak. But instead of a charming one-liner or something to make you laugh... his nerves get the better of him and all that comes out is the fastest line of gibberish you'd ever heard. It can't even be fully blamed on his accent. He was harboring so much anxiety to speak to you, that every word tripped over the other. Even the most articulate speaker in your native language would have made zero sense with how quickly he spoke.

You blink for a second and look at him, your brows knit together. "Excuse me?" That was all you could say, unsure how to even begin deciphering whatever it was that just blurted from his mouth. The man beside you that had walked over with so much confidence actually had a dusting of rose on the tops of his cheeks. You couldn't help but soften a bit at his embarrassment. You'd probably be mortified if it happened to you.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts, whatever pick-up line that was in his mind suddenly gone when your gaze met his.

Johnny is a flirty man, normally mildly offensive and towing the line of cat-calling. But he got so flustered in front of you he found it difficult to put the pieces of his mask back in place.

"Didn't mean to stumble that hard-" Johnny huffed, grumbling under his breath. Only parts of his words emphasized by the pitch of his voice.

"Want to try again? I can pretend I didn't see it?" Normally, you'd have told him to piss off by now, but you found his little hiccup amusing and rather endearing. It humanized him in your eyes. A man trying to flirt with a girl he liked, not some sleaze ball trying to get into your pants directly. It was a fine line that you made room for.

"Nah- I'd just settle for a name." He'd recovered from the misstep rather well, a slight smirk curled in the corners of his lips. You noticed the way he had pronounced his words that he was Scottish. His vowels rising and falling, some consonants missing from the way he spoke, and there was a melodic quality to his voice. It was dynamic, not a hint of flattened tone to find.

The more the two of you speak, the more you grow comfortable and the more flirtatious he gets. At some point, you find him shamelessly staring at your chest, but you're not put off by it as much as you'd expect. It's usually coupled with some half-baked dirty joke that your own crude humor finds amusing. He knows it's corny, you can tell by the look in his eye.

Johnny is the type of man who intends to flirt with his words, but sometimes he speaks so fast you don't pick up on what exactly he's saying. But his intention is always clear. Johnny is a shameless flirt, especially once you two are together. Once you're more comfortable with one another his true flirting style comes to the surface.

Johnny isn't a poet. He's actually very bad with words. He doesn't have the most subtle gaze. He will fully get distracted by you while you're talking to him.

Johnny flirts with his body. He's always wanting to touch you. While a slap on the bottom or a quick grope in the comfort of your own home is always a tell-tale sign from him of his affection for you, it is also his gentleness need to always have physical contact with you.

At a restaurant, he's always wanting to hold your hand across the table, or resting his leg against yours under the table. He wants to hold your hand all the time, always wrapping his arms around you from behind, always kissing your shoulder. If he's touching you, he's happy. Johnny is a feral man, but he also thrives on his gentle intimacy. Brushing your hair, caressing your arms, non-sexual massages.

Even with more literal flirting, from that first time meeting him, he would hold your gaze, then look down to your lips. It's not subtle, but alluring all the same. He jokes and touches. He's a physical flirt.

[flappervcmp]

"Wow. I'm not that bad, you've hardly even gotten to know me yet. Like I said, you'll learn to love it."

He was so assured of himself and his little scam he'd ran in the 80's, but she just couldn't take it seriously at all. "Mm, sounds more like lurking to me. But whatever you say, Mr. Salvatore." She gave him a teasing grin, raising her brows towards him. "Or should I call you Mike now?"

She hadn't expected it to get deep so fast, but she could understand the thought behind it. For her, being human just wasn't something that could ever be in the cards for her anymore, even if by some chance there were some miracle cure or something.

But the idea of the little things? Birthdays, growing old? She could understand the want. Somewhere inside of her, she's sure that in the past she might've wanted to be human again, but not now, not after a hundred years of vampirism.

"I—I can understand that. It's not something I can see myself wanting anymore, but.."

"I do miss birthdays. The cake, the celebration, the idea that you've made it another year? God, I haven't had a birthday party in... Well—it's been years."

She took another long drink of her water, nodding along with him. "I'm a big fan of this idea, especially if it gets us free and clear of this depressing cloud we've created."

Damon watched her with a lopsided grin as she shot him a finger gun like she was some candy-fueled cowboy, her laughter lighting up the room in a way that made everything else feel… lighter.

He chuckled, shaking his head as he leaned back against the counter, swirling the bourbon in his glass. “Varied personality, huh?” he echoed, raising his brows at her. “That’s a nice way to say you’re unpredictable and mildly dangerous when unsupervised. But sure, I’ll learn to love it.”

Her teasing about his scam life made him smirk wider, his eyes narrowing in mock offense. “First of all, I was very convincing as Mike.”He said, deadpan. “Second, I’ll have you know I never lurked. I strolled. Smoothly. With purpose.” He took a slow sip, then added under his breath with a smirk. “It was the ‘80s. Everyone was doing something shady in the ‘80s.”

But then she answered his question, and just like that, the air shifted—her laughter settling into something quieter, more grounded. Damon’s smile faded into something softer as he listened. Really listened. Her words didn’t surprise him, a lot of other vampires had said the same thing. 

“Yeah.” He gave his answer quietly. “I would.”

“I miss the little things.” He went on. “ Waking up without blood on my mind. Looking in the mirror and not seeing the weight of decades staring back. Simply aging and looking forward to birthdays.” 

Damon let the silence stretch for a second longer before he caught the way it started to settle too heavy between them—too honest, too vulnerable. And yeah, he'd let her see a side of him no one else had, but that didn’t mean he wanted the whole day swallowed up by existential dread. “Well,” He said, “that got depressingly honest, didn’t it?”

He took another sip of his drink, then set it down and pushed away from the counter, cracking his neck like he was shaking off the emotional weight. “How about we put the soul-searching Q&A on pause before one of us ends up crying into a bourbon bottle? And instead… we break into my brother’s room and see what tragic emo poetry he’s got stashed under the floorboards?”

[utilitycaster]

thinking about this due to a side conversation but: I do feel there is something of an unresolved and honestly largely unexplored discussion to be had about the relationship between actual plays and the TTRPGs in which they are played. Specifically I'm thinking of the following two questions/opinions, both of which I've seen in the wild:

Should Actual Play be seen as a means to teach people TTRPGs? To what degree? What does this encompass - the system? Table etiquette? Safety tools? [My answer below but short answer: sort of but not really; same; absolutely the fuck not.]

Does "made for AP" mean anything when talking about actual play? Is it good or bad? [My answer below but short answer: sort of but not really; depends.]

Re the first: I think it is extremely obvious that actual play is a very meaningful venue by which to acclimate people to the concept of TTRPGs in the first place and to specific systems! And as a result, an actual play show can be a very useful entry point. However, I have been on the receiving end of "but they do it this way in TAZ!" before when making a ruling; unless it is explicitly the stated intent of an actual play to serve as an example of how to play this game, rules as written, I would caution against treating actual play as a how-to guide. Similarly, it's useful for a general guide of table etiquette in terms of the basics of like, showing up, knowing what metagaming is, etc...but a lot of the norms of playing are, ultimately, things you learn by doing. This also doesn't take into account that as with most things etiquette, table etiquette is situation specific. The razzing at the D20 table might not fly at yours; and as I said in this post it's really hard to tell if player agency is being violated from the outside.

As for safety tools, I am actively against the idea that actual play shows have any obligation to teach people about safety tools. Firstly, safety tools are a framework and not an end in and of themselves, and I think that misconception is already a massive problem in the discussion of safety tools. Secondly, and more importantly, I think other than saying "oh yes, Lines and Veils is out there," any deeper discussion of safety tools within the context of AP would require an AP performer to reveal their particular triggers to the audience of the internet, which I think any reasonable person can agree is both horribly invasive and literally the opposite goal of safety tools, ie, it would decrease this person's safety and probably comfort.

And generally for all of these things, do the work yourself. You and your players should read the books, discuss your feelings and expectations, and read up on relevant safety tools. Your entertainment should not be expected to do it for you.

Now, Made For AP is fascinating because I find myself, obviously, somewhat disagreeing with the "AP as Teaching Tool" (sidebar; you'll see people arguing for this say AP as Pedagogy when they really just mean 'AP teaching you how to play the game' rather than 'AP as the theory of teaching,' but that's a discussion for another day) as discussed above. Made for AP is coming at this from the opposite side: games that are designed to be digestible specifically in Actual Play are Bad and not for Real Gamers, or whatever. Now, I love gatekeeping, but like, my idea of gatekeeping is "to play a TTRPG you should read the rulebook of that TTRPG," not "you must play this TTRPG to be a real TTRPG player." Anyway, the made for AP epithet usually is simply shorthand for "I am deeply obsessed with hating Critical Role and often D&D to the point of spending more time hating it than talking about the merits of the things I allegedly like." However, if you can tease anything out of it, it's usually games with somewhat streamlined mechanics/lower crunch, and a focus on setting up character interactions (but often leaving them as open RP, which I think is good). Often, they have removed strict distance rules in combat and provided means of making the flow of a game faster. This, of course, isn't a bad thing either at the table or for AP, and indeed as a Crunch Lover it's honestly more for a specific type of table than actual play. I've listened to multiple (well, 2) pf1e SRD AP podcasts, RQG and BCBP*, and both are edited such that we don't hear the GM referencing 6 tables to get the exact value of a perception check DC. So the streamlining only matters for minimally edited actual play. This also assumes AP is solely a product and not a means for fun for the players, which is only true of like, KolloK.

Anyway: I think a lot of the discussion around actual play would greatly improve if we understood it as entertainment first, and I think writing this up made me realize a lot of people...don't.

*[yes I used all acronyms for a cheap gag. read as: Pathfinder First Edition System Reference Document (id est, the free ruleset for Pathfinder First Edition) Actual Play podcasts, Rusty Quill Gaming and Burnt Cookbook Party]