#''do you really think any of your friends care about you more than me? more than your own mother?'' 😳🤐🤐🤐

[buddhistmusings]

Why do you care so much?

I've been asked this question a few times in the past year - why I spend so much time thinking, reading, and reflecting on antisemitism, especially because I am not Jewish myself. There are a few reasons, really. One of them is that I think antisemitism is a hatred that spawns other hatreds, but even if it did not, it would still be worth studying, because the fact that it is a hatred at all is enough. The fact that antisemitism impacts Jewish people is enough of a reason to oppose it.

It's also because it's important to oppose because of the way it damages the thinking habits of people who believe it. I saw somebody say, "Jew-Hate makes you dumb," once. And though I think it was probably an off the cuff statement for them, it stuck with me, and I think they're right. In my religion, we say hatred is one of the three poisons - it can seriously harm your mental well-being in a way that deepens your suffering in all aspects of life. Often, hatred can also be spread like a contagion. It's something that destroys social harmony and causes severe social dysfunction. And right now, I think antisemitism is the most contagious of hatreds - I've seen people in my life fall off the cliff, I've been able to talk some back from it, and I've seen how so many people wander towards it without any idea that that's what they're doing.

Part of the problem is that antisemites consider themselves righteous in a way I think most racists don't. Often, you'll see "I'm not racist but" I almost never see that with antisemitism. They don't add that qualifier. They just say it. Most racists I know will make a tacit acknowledgment of the racist implications of what they're about to say - antisemitic people don't. They often even engage in anti-Jewish racism while invoking anti-racism.

I don't really know any Jewish people in real life, perhaps only two. But I don't need to know them to know that hating them is wrong. I think I also have a debt of gratitude to many people in the Jewish community because of the advances in Buddhist Studies made by Jewish people, which sounds strange - but it's true that many leading voices and researchers, both in academia and within Buddhism itself happen to be Jewish. I'm not sure why this is, but it's absolutely true. The most prolific translator of Pali into English that I can think of is Jewish. The most impactful Vipassana instructor in America I can think of is Jewish. The most impactful voice in Deity Yoga, for Tibetan Buddhism, is Jewish. People who are Jewish, for some reason, contributed probably more than ex-Christian Americans or atheists combined to the proliferation of Buddhism in the United States.

Buddhists and Jewish people are known to have a close relationship. There are a lot of different reasons for this that I would suggest, but none that add up to explain the amazing contributions to Buddhism made by American Jews.

I think another reason I have for being so interested in antisemitism as a non-Jew is the kind of... political disillusionment I've been experiencing? It's been a disturbing few years, and I haven't seen many people elaborate very well on this feeling of abandonment and horror, witnessing people who you thought shared your values become hateful and deeply violent in their beliefs. The only people I've seen consistently speak about it happen to be Jewish.

I think all of this has helped contribute to a feeling of closeness to Jewish people as a group, despite that I don't really know Jewish people in my real life, and only have one or two Jewish friends online. This year has been a horror show of watching people's minds become twisted - it's so scary in a way I can't quite capture with words right now.

I also sometimes have a back and forth with myself about when and if to mention I'm not Jewish when I talk about antisemitism, because I do think it's totally necessary to explain the perspective from which I speak, but to be honest it feels kind of icky to be like "I'm not Jewish, but antisemitism is bad", because antisemitism is bad whether or not the person saying so isn't Jewish, and I think it might be a negative for people to think "not being Jewish" is something which makes it any less valuable to be against antisemitism, and talk about how against it you are. It's very real that people who talk about antisemitism are perceived to be Jewish, and obviously, it's important not to lead people into thinking you're Jewish when you're not, but adding an "I'm not Jewish" qualifier to statements about antisemitism I worry might contribute to the perception that those against antisemitism are Jewish.

Antisemitism is such an insidious ideology. And it's everywhere. I see it daily in so many different spaces. It has the largest impact on Jewish people, but it also impacts non-Jewish people at times. I distinctly remember being mocked throughout school for "looking Jewish." I think about that Greek restaurant which was attacked because they were thought to be Jewish. Or that man in the Amsterdam violence who tried to help and was then accused of being Jewish himself. It's so deluded, violent, and manages to consume people's thoughts like a parasitic worm in their brain.

Anyways, I planned for this post to be more organized. Oops.

[glitterybombshell]

Jj Maybank is a pervert. His gross and he’d take any opportunity to touch his pretty best friend.

Warnings: Suggestive (18+), Pervert!JJ x Reader, Manipulation Tactics, Groping

It starts off with small touches. Maybe he’d give your waist an extra long squeeze when your reach in to hug him. Savouring the feeling of your tight body. It gets worse. Small squeezes on your waist would soon turn into him grabbing two handfuls of your ass. “Hotdamn!You really carrying all this back here babe?” He’d play it off as normal, he was super convincing after all. So you’d just brush it off.

One particularly hot day your naively prancing around the chateau in nothing more than a bikini top and a pair of shorts that were right up your ass. It’s not right for you to be doing this to him. His on John bs couch watching you jump around while he palms his dick super oblivious. He doesn’t care if u find him doing it— he’d just play it off anyways and plus its not his fault. “Wanna watch a movie next to me sweetie?” He’d ask just so he could feel your smooth skin again.

But his little obsession with touching you takes a sick turn when he starts manipulating you into letting him grope you. He’d show up at your place with faux tears in his eyes acting all hurt and sad maybe he’d mutter out something about his dad to really make your heart burn.

So obviously his sweet best friend is telling to him “C’mere” pulling him into her plush chest. He can’t help but smile a little while he conviently ‘cried’ into your full tits. His plan starts going exactly how he imagined it now that you’re asking if he needed “anything at all.” All of a sudden his ears are perking up and his eyes are getting all wide from excitement. He’d be quick to wipe his tears with the back of his hand.

“Anything huh?” He’d ask trying to hide the smile creeping onto his face.

He’d convince you to let him feel you up, “just a little” he’d say so he could feel better. He was just so upset.

Now he had you right where he wanted, groping your tits from behind while you made him a cup of tea. After all, who were you to deny a friend in need? “This makes me feel a wholeee lot better” he’s comment while he greedily kneaded the fat of your breasts. “Your like an angel. Helping me like this” he’d say like you were doing charity work.

When his finished with the little act he put on, he’d leave your house all giddy and happy.

“Soo, same time next week?” He’d ask even though he didn’t need confirmation from you. He’d feel you up again. He’d make sure of it. Jj Maybank is gross. Let him be gross.

A/n!

I think I should become a writer on here I’m enjoying this wayyy to much

[sunfairiess]

𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 || 𝐣𝐣 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤

pairing: jj maybank x fem!routledge!reader

tropes: 3rd person narration | sarah cameron’s pov | childhood best friends to lovers | brother’s best friend | best friend’s sister | fluff | soft boy jj

synopsis: sarah cameron meets her boyfriend’s sister for the first time, and understands what being soulmates means.

warnings: cursing, slightly mention of violence

wc: 2.9k

it’s my first time writing a character x reader (and actually writing a ff in years lmao) so i really hope this turned out well! also, i apologize for any typos or grammar errors but english is not my first language <3

song rec: about you - the 1975 ♡

“c’mon guys, time to go back. it’s starting to freeze out here.” pope said, placing his fishing rod by his side before getting up and walking towards the helm of the boat, kiara following him to keep him some company. he was right: the temperature had started to drop, and honestly he didn’t even know why the pogues decided to go fishing at the end of november.

they were all there, except for the pogue princess as they liked to call her. she was john b’s younger sister, just by one year; and even though she was definitely a pogue down to her core, she actually almost looked like a kook: she was always composed, never drank too much, never even touched a cigarette or a joint, and she worked her ass off every afternoon at the country club to help john b with the bills and to afford a few of the things she liked.

she was smart, kind, the type of girl to lighten up a room with the sound of her laughter. she was also one of the reasons why the ‘no pogue-on-pogue macking‘ rule was made: everyone kind of had a thing for her, and jj maybank was the first in line.

“i seriously regret coming, i think i’m going into hypothermia.” jj said, shuddering a little bit. yes, it was cold, but it wasn’t that cold. jj just liked to be dramatic.

“gosh, you’re such a pussy.” john b laughed, smacking his best friend behind the head. they’ve know each other for more than ten years now. they weren’t friends anymore, they were brothers. they loved and cared for each other very deeply, even if they were acting like jerks most of the time.

as pope started the engine of the hms pogue, ready to go back to the château, john b took his sweatshirt off to pass it to sarah, his new girlfriend. she was a kook, but she was different. she didn’t care about how dissimilar their lives were, she loved spending time with the pogues because they were real. they were amazing friends, they were funny and smart, and the kind of people you could have a serious conversation with. they weren’t superficial like the kooks, and she loved them for this.

she felt a little tap on her leg, catching with her vision her boyfriend’s sweater. she gave john b a smile and slid the blue piece of clothing on. “so, i’m meeting your sister for the first time today, uh. big step.” sarah joked, slightly pushing his arm.

since the first moment they started dating, john b had always talked about how he wanted her to meet his sister. she was the most important person in his life, especially after his dad went missing at sea during a storm. he actually wanted sarah to meet her right away, but she asked him to wait a couple of months, just to see if they were solid about this relationship. “yup, and trust me you’re gonna love her. she’s like a little ball of sunshine, she wouldn’t even hurt a fly.” he said, smiling at the thought how of sweet his sister was with everyone.

“he’s right. i don’t think i’ve even ever seen her mad.” jj stated, shifting his seat from john b’s right to sarah’s left.

“she seems really nice, but i’m not worried about me liking her, because, by what you guys always say about her, i already do. i’m just worried she won’t like me, you know because of the whole pogue-kook thing.”

everyone bursted out laughing at sarah’s words, her face more confused than ever. “what? what did I say?” kiara left pope at the helm of the boat, and went to sit in front of her, crossing her legs together. “you don’t need to worry about that, she doesn’t give a shit about the rivalry. trust me, she looks like she walked out of a cruise brochure. the only thing she wants is to see her brother with someone who makes him happy, which you do, so she’s totally gonna be fine with it.” sarah smiled at her words, feeling a bit more relieved now.

even though pope wasn’t seating next to them, he could still perfectly hear their conversation and see sarah’s tensed body. that’s why he decided to lighten up a bit the discussion. “you know, one time she made jj dress up as a reindeer.” he said getting out a chuckle at the memory of jj dressed as one of santa claus’s reindeers.

kiara followed him with a loud laughter “oh my god it’s true, i almost forgot it.”

sarah gave them an amazed look. she was enjoying this too much to not say anything. “okay, this is actually the funniest thing i’ve ever heard. did you had a red nose like little rudolph, too?” she said with a smirk, turning her head towards jj’s.

“oh shut up, all of you. i only did it because she asked. besides, she looked so happy when i changed into that costume. i would honestly do it again.” jj let out an involontary smile at the thought of y/n. it was like this all the time: wether he wanted it or not, the only thought of y/n made him feel like he was the happiest man on earth, even if he wasn’t. she just had that effect on him.

“god, it’s sickening how whipped you are for my sister.” john b said, mimicking a gag reflex.

jj rolled his eyes at his words. sarah switching her gaze between the two boys sitting one to her left, and the other to her right. she then stopped to look at jj. “wait- you like y/n?”

“like? hell, he loves that girl. he’s been in love with her since he was six. the random hook ups he has? that’s all for show. he only does it to not draw suspicion, since the only girl he’d like to fuck— and sorry john b— is y/n.” pope said, fully exposing his friend’s feelings.

not that jj cared anyway. everyone knew how he felt about her, he didn’t even try to deny it anymore.

“and you’re completely fine with it?“ sarah asked john b, knowing how protective he was when it came to his sister.

“i wasn’t always. first time he told me he loved her? i punched him. not my finest moment but i was kinda mad.” john b replied, slightly chuckling, reminiscing his right fist hitting jj’s jawbone. “i mean, the day before he tells me he sees her as a little sister and then that he wants to sleep with her? hell nah, i wasn’t having that.”

“and what changed your mind?”

“because it’s jj. i know my best friend, and i know how much he cares for her. i knew he was never going to hurt her, i’m actually pretty sure he would die for her.”

sarah nodded along. the look on jj’s face confirming that what john b had just said was a hundred percent true. in that moment a thought crossed her mind, making her think about how what jj and y/n must’ve been something truly special.

“bubba, we’re home.” john b shouted, as he opened the château’s door. the house was silent, except for a light melody coming from the bathroom and the sound of the shower running. “shower! be right there!” sarah heard y/n shout back, as every one of the pogues sat on the couch: her ending up between her boyfriend and kiara, next to who was seated pope; and a bit far away from them jj. she figured he left the space empty for y/n.

about ten minutes later, while the pogues were having a conversation about an upcoming party at the boneyard, a sixteen year old girl came out of the bathroom, wearing a pink sweater and long white sweatpants. white socks at her feet and long wet hair cascading down her back. she walked up to them, bending slightly to place a kiss on her brother’s cheek, and proceeding to do the same with all the others.

she then retraced her steps and stopped in front of sarah. “so you’re the reason why my brother stopped being a cranky old lady.” she smiled, offering her her right hand. “i’m y/n, it’s so nice to finally meet you.”

“sarah. it’s a pleasure to meet you too, john b’s always talking about you.” sarah replied, shaking her hand. y/n let out a small laugh, as she walked towards the end of the couch were jj was seated.

she plopped down next to him, tucking her legs under her bottom and leaning into him. he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer and gently leaving a kiss to the side of her head. “he’s always talking about you too. i swear the other night he woke me up around 3am just to tell me how amazing your date was. which, don’t get me wrong, i was very happy to hear about.”

“you literally throw a pillow in my face.” john b said.

“duh, because you woke me at 3 fucking a.m. i love you bird, but for gods sakes let a girl sleep.” she replied, making everyone laugh at her comment.

the conversation resumed pretty quickly, this time through with jj paying way less attention to it, more focused on the girl next to him.

the entire evening, between laughters and bottles of beers, sarah observed how jj and y/n were always caught up in their whole world. jj’s hands being constantly on her body, wether it was a arm around her shoulders or his hand on her leg. they were glued to each other, sometimes even whispering between them words only they could catch.

for the second time that day, sarah thought about how jj and y/n’s bond was special, going beyond simple friendship.

it was almost two a.m. when kie and pope left, both returning to their respective houses to avoid their parents storming out on them. sarah instead was going to spend the night there, so since jj and john b were on the front porch smoking a joint, obviously a jj’s idea, she and y/n were the only two people moving around the living room, cleaning up the mess of empty beer bottles and pizza boxes.

the whole night she noticed how jj and y/n acted around each other, so since they were now alone, she just felt like she had to ask. “so what’s the deal between you and jj?”

“there’s no deal, we’re friends.” y/n said calmly.

“bullshit, i noticed the way you look at him and how he looks at you. that’s the look of love, sweetie.” sarah decided not to mention how jj actually felt about her. it wasn’t her place to say tell the truth.

“nah, jj would never go for someone like me. he only sees me as a little sister, besides i’m not even his type.” she replied, giving her a kind smile, even though she felt like a lump was stuck right down her throat. y/n always knew she wasn’t the kind of girl jj would want, the were total polar opposites, and truthfully she never even considered herself that much beautiful to have a chance with him.

“since when jj has a type? doesn’t he hits on every breathing human being?” sarah knew this probably wasn’t the right thing to say, but sometimes people needed a little push to blurt out their feelings. to her surprise though, y/n laughed, most likely because she knew how their friend had a habit of flirting with almost every girl he met. it didn’t matter if they were pogues or tourons, or hell even kooks sometimes. a pretty girl is a pretty girl, doesn’t matter where she comes from.

“kinda, but he always hooks up with victoria-secreys-models type of girls, if you get what i mean. and apart from that, we want different things. he doesn’t do relationships and i don’t do random hook ups. not to mention how the possibility of me and jj being together would probably give an aneurysm to my brother.”

“eh, i wouldn’t be so sure about that, ya know. either way though, you like him, don’t you?“ sarah said, remembering the conversation she and the other guys had on the boat.

busted. y/n stayed silent, sailing her lips in a thin, straight line. she then closed her eyes and took a deep breath, getting ready to spill everything out. she figured it was time to tell the truth anyway, since sarah clearly figured everything out.

“i met jj when i was four, we were in kindergarten and some older boys were picking on me. i was smaller and basically on the edge of tears, until i saw this blonde boy running towards me and putting himself between us. even if he was younger than them he still took my defense. after that he walked me home and told me he was a friend of john b’s. since that day, i don’t think i’ve ever liked someone that wasn’t him.“

she took a small pause, just to catch her breath. but she was so caught up in narrating the whole story, that she didn’t notice john b and jj leaning against the doorframe.

jj’s eyes almost bursting out of his face at her words, not expecting to hear her confession. john b, very aware of how his best friend was going to lose his shit any minute now, he places his finger against his mouth, mimicking him to shut up.

“as we grew older the roles kinda reversed and i started to look out for him: when he would come here bruised because of his father i would hug him and clean him up; even if younger than him i helped him study, you know just avoiding he would fail some subjects. at night, dad used to let him sleep next to me or john b because he didn’t want to be alone, thing that of course dad prohibited when i turned twelve. that didn’t stop him though: he would sneak out as soon as john b would fall asleep and come under the covers with me.”

she let out a laugh. “would sir. freud love this? probably yes, but it doesn’t matter. he deserves someone that cares for him, everyone does. and it’s not pity or mercy, i genuinely want to be there for him, because he deserves the best. yet, because of his father he’s convinced he’s worthless, but he’s not. gosh, he’s so funny and smart, which i know sounds weird but he is. he would die for his friends and cares so much for us. and i’m sure he could make it out of obx if only he wanted to. and he’s always so supportive and gen-“

she could’ve kept going on, but she suddenly noticed the two boys staring right up at her. jj’s eyes were watery, like he was going to cry any second now. he didn’t cry much, only when really fucked up things happened in his life, but for the first time he felt like crying not because he was sad and tired but because he was happy. because finally he could’ve had something great going on in his life. he could’ve had her.

without saying anything he launched himself into y/n’s arms, letting her stumble back due to the rushed impact between their bodies. he hold her tight, his arms around her waist and hers around his neck. his face placed in the space between her shoulder and her neck, breathing in the smell of the coconut soap she always used. he didn’t care about sarah and john b still being in the room, he wouldn’t even care if a freaking zebra walked in the house. she was the only thing that mattered. she was his whole universe.

“you shouldn’t eavesdrop, maybank.” she said with a smirk, putting a bit of distance between their bodies so she could look at him in the face, but still managing to play with the of hair at the nape of his neck.

“did you actually mean it? like for real?”

“every word, jay. you know me, i would never lie to you.”

jj maybank was impulsive. half of the time he never thought before acting, which pretty much resulted in him dealing with the aftermath of his stupid decisions. that’s why he didn’t think twice in grabbing y/n’s face with his hands, pressing his lips against hers.

at first he felt her stiffening, probably surprised by his gesture, and for a moment he really thought he had just screwed everything up. but then her hands went to his shirt, yanking him even closer if possible, and he sensed her relaxing, her lips moving against his.

after what seemed like hours, he pulled back, only because they both needed air. if it was up to him, he would’ve spent hours kissing her without getting a break.

“i’ve been loving you for a long time, princess.” she smiled, her cheeks almost hurting because of all the happiness she was feeling.

“well, you’re very lucky then, because i’ve been loving you for a long time too.”

“i can’t watch this, i think i’m gonna throw up.”

sarah nudged her elbow into her boyfriend stomach, giving him a look that said ‘shut the fuck up or i’m killing you’. john b raised his hands in the air, admitting defeat.

and, as they watched jj starting to kiss y/n again, sarah thought of how her own relationship was truly amazing. but in her opinion? what y/n and jj had was the true definition of soulmates.

[screamlet]

wip wednesday (bucktommy fix-it edition)

a longer eddie+tommy excerpt from this wip that's getting out of control. some context: tommy has shaved off his hair in the gay heartbreak tradition of our people.

---

Tommy knows he's a creature of habit, but it's still disquieting to discover that sometimes people learn his habits. For example: Tommy regularly likes to hit up one specific cozy restaurant on his free nights and have dinner at the bar, him and a book. Sometimes he'd strike up a conversation with someone at the bar but, most of the time, he had his quiet, familiar corner at the bar with a drink or two, his dinner, and whatever he was reading that week.

Tonight, someone buys him his beer and that someone is Eddie, who's sitting across the bar from him when he arrives. He toasts to Tommy, then gets out of his seat and comes around to sit with him.

"Thanks for the beer," Tommy replies. "So what's going on?"

"Just checking in. You've been quiet."

Tommy raises his eyebrows at him. "Huh. Have I? I wonder."

For a second, Eddie's look is scathing, and then sympathetic, genuine. "How are you doing?"

He imagined the briefest cartoonish image where he tips his head back and chugs the entire beer in one go, but it takes so long that Eddie sighs and leaves. He thinks about doing something that dumb for longer than he should before he does the adult thing and shrugs a shoulder at him. "Just fine, how about you?"

Eddie tilts his head 90 degrees, like he's had his neck snapped. "Just fine? You break up with your boyfriend of six months and—hey, Tommy? Should I mention the hair? Or the lack of it?"

Tommy smiles broadly; his face aches to be this fake, but he used to be a pro at it. "I thought I'd try something new." He takes another sip. "Thanks for the beer. Does Buck know you're here? Crossing enemy lines?"

"Wow, he said you called him Buck and I didn't believe him, but you really did that." Eddie shudders. "Stop doing that. And what enemy lines? We're friends, idiot."

Tommy gives him a playful look. "Come on. No we're not. You're his best friend. You don't need to pretend. I get it."

Eddie clears his throat. "You know Buck can have more than one friend at the same time?"

"And he does," Tommy assures him. "He's got you and the whole 118, his sister, everyone who's connected with you guys. He's good. I'm good. We're good."

"Tommy, listen." Eddie shifts in his seat and leans in closer. "Show me a real emotion in the next 10 seconds or I'll punch your cheekbones into your skull for leading on my best friend for six months. He cares about you, Tommy. Do you have any idea how much? I thought you did. He took it seriously—did you?"

He considers Eddie carefully and then looks away. "I don't know what you want me to say. I'm doing okay. I cared about him a lot, too, and now we've broken up. It happens. Thanks for checking on me. You don't have to do that anymore."

It's quiet between them for a minute, then another. Tommy puts in his dinner order and motions to Eddie, who shakes his head and says he doesn't want anything. Tommy leans back in his seat and that's when he starts to sweat. If Eddie's just going to sit there and watch him, wait him out, then Eddie's going to win. Tommy's good at this, great at faking it until he makes it, but it's—it's hard to sit under the microscope for this long, especially when Eddie seems to have nothing but time on his hands and nothing to do but wait for Tommy to crack.

"I'm not here to get you guys back together," Eddie finally says. "I really am here to see how you're doing. I see Buck at work; I don't see you, but I want to keep seeing you. I want us to be friends, no matter what happens between the two of you."

Tommy laughs. "God, and why would you want that? You've got better things to do with your time. Seriously, go call your kid or something."

"His name is Christopher, Tommy, and get his name out of your mouth if that's how you feel about him, about me and him."

Tommy nods, apologetic. "Sorry. But I do mean it: I free you of your obligation."

Eddie's quiet again and says, with even more disbelief, "You don't want to be my friend anymore? And don't call me a child, Tommy, I'm serious. You know adults have friends, too, right? And sometimes people break up and the world keeps turning and we can still be friends, you and me. You and Chim, you and Hen, even Bobby will come around because he likes you. You're still Tommy."

"I don't think that's how you guys work," Tommy says. "I don't think anyone stays in your circle without Buck tying them there. Maybe you and I can meet up for basketball, spar at the gym, hang out at my place, but I'm telling you that's a lot of work and you don't have to do it."

"I never had to do it, Tommy," Eddie replies. "I wanted to because I wanted to be your friend. You are my friend, and Buck isn't gonna change that."

Tommy laughs dryly and looks away. "He changes everything, Eddie."

[callme-holly]

Can you do a Dallas or Curly imagine where Curtissister!reader and whichever boy you choose are laying together or kissing, and one of the Curtis gang boys walks in and gets them in trouble? you might have already done this, if so, don't reply to it

𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 [𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐱 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫]

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - realised it takes me longer to write actual fics than headcanons lmao

A small smile graces your features as Curly drapes himself over you, his face nuzzling into your neck as his arms wind around your middle. His breath is warm against your skin, and you sigh in contentment as he presses a small kiss to the underside of your jaw. 

“What’re you doing?” You murmur, tilting your head back to meet his eyes as he pulls away from you. You reach up and trace the soft lines of his forehead with one finger, humming softly when you reach a small scar just above his brow. His eyes flutter shut, and he relaxes under your touch, leaning into the contact, his mouth curving up slightly at the corners. 

“Am I not allowed to kiss my girlfriend?” he asks with a teasing grin, one that spells out trouble in big, bold letters. You roll your eyes fondly and run your fingers through his hair, enjoying how silky it feels between your fingers—a stark contrast to the normally greasy curls. He leans forward and plants a quick peck on your lips, which earns him an indignant huff.

“I never said that. But if my brothers catch you in here, you're as good as dead, Shepard.”

Curly simply shrugs in response, looking entirely unbothered by the threat. He isn’t scared of your brothers, not one bit; in fact, he looks beyond thrilled about the prospect of being caught in your room. 

“Oh well,” he says lightly, leaning in to give you another quick kiss. “Let them find me.” 

There’s no arguing with him on that, so you simply let him pull you into another kiss, this one deeper and longer than the last. His hand comes to cup the side of your face, yours running up into his hair, tugging at the curls, hard enough to make him grin against your mouth. 

You don’t know how long the two of you stay like that, tangled up in each other, too caught up in your own little world to notice anything else going on around you. For all either of you could care, it was only the two of you in that moment. You were both far too blissful to really think about anything besides each other, even for a second, and the idea that someone may catch you was completely nonexistent.

That is until the door to your room creaks open, and you immediately leap apart, both of you turning your heads towards the sound. There, standing in the doorway, is Ponyboy, looking both confused and traumatised. His eyes are wide, his jaw slack as he looks between the two of you: his sister and one of his closest friends, both lying together on your bed. Your cheeks burn crimson, and you drop your gaze, trying your hardest to avoid any and all eye contact.

“Pony,” you begin, choosing your next words carefully. “Please don’t tell Darry.” 

He blinks owlishly at you, looking bewildered as he stares at you, not saying anything for several moments. Then, slowly, his expression turns to one of realisation, then to horror. You watch in helplessly as he turns on his heel and practically sprints down the hallway, the door swinging shut once more, and all you can do is slump back, letting out a long breath. 

When you look up, Curly is grinning mischievously, leaning back on his hands, his eyes gleaming with amusement. You glare at him accusingly.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?”

The boy beside you merely shrugs, looking not all bothered. “Yeah, but you love me for it.” 

And, yeah, you can’t say anything against that. So, instead, you simply turn away, waiting for the impeding scolding from all three of your brothers that’s bound to come.

[anniebeemine]

lil thanksgiving day blurb<3

When Spencer agreed to join you for Thanksgiving, you were thrilled. It seemed like a great idea—two friends spending the holiday together, enjoying each other’s company. You’d always enjoyed Spencer’s company, his sharp wit and endless stream of fascinating facts. But it wasn’t until the morning of Thanksgiving that the full weight of what you were doing really hit you. This wasn’t just a casual get-together; it was Thanksgiving. A holiday. And suddenly, the whole thing felt a lot more intimate than you had anticipated.

The rest of the BAU had all scattered to spend the day with their families. Hotch had taken Jack to see his grandparents, JJ and Will were attending a big family dinner in Louisiana, and Rossi had some elaborate plans involving an old friend and an even older bottle of wine. Even Garcia, who you might have expected to be at a loose end, had a trip planned to some tropical destination.

That left you and Spencer, the only two without concrete plans. It hadn’t seemed like a big deal when you’d casually asked Spencer what he was doing for the holiday. You had fully expected him to say he was going to Las Vegas to visit his mom, Diana. But when he mentioned that his mom was on a cruise this year, your heart sank a little. You hadn’t considered the possibility that he might be alone.

Trying to keep your tone light, you asked, “So, what are you going to do?”

Spencer had shrugged, his usual nonchalant way of downplaying things that might be bothering him. “I don’t really have any plans,” he said. “I figured I’d just catch up on some reading or maybe organize my bookshelves. Nothing special.”

Your heart clenched at the thought of him spending Thanksgiving alone with a book. You knew how much he loved reading, but the holiday was supposed to be about warmth, connection, and being with people you cared about. Without thinking too much, you blurted out, “Why don’t you join me for Thanksgiving? I mean, it’s nothing fancy, but it’d be nice to have some company.”

Spencer hesitated for a moment, as if weighing the offer. “Are you sure?” he asked. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“Of course I’m sure,” you replied, smiling to reassure him. “I’d love to have you.”

Panic set in as you realized you hadn’t really prepared for this. The idea of throwing together a simple meal now seemed woefully inadequate. You scrambled to put something together, rushing to the grocery store only to find it completely void of turkeys, which is ridiculous for the morning of the most turkey-centric holiday. It seemed the universe had conspired against your last-minute efforts. So, you grabbed a chicken instead, reasoning that it would have to do.

Back at home, you spent the rest of the morning in a flurry, trying to make everything perfect. You set the table, trying to strike a balance between casual and special, but as you laid out the dishes, the realization dawned on you: you were doing too much. The table looked like you were hosting a formal dinner, not just a simple meal with a friend. You started to feel self-conscious, like maybe you had jumped the gun, turning this into something more than what it was meant to be.

Just as you were second-guessing every decision you’d made, Spencer walked in. You turned to greet him, but the look on his face as he took in the table made your heart sink. You felt like you’d overdone it, pushed things too far too quickly. He looked surprised, maybe even a little overwhelmed, and you felt your cheeks flush with heat. Sweat trickled down the back of your neck, and you could feel your damp hair sticking to your forehead, a testament to the warm kitchen and your frantic efforts. One hand was still encased in an oven mitt, the other clutching your apron, which had absorbed some flour and grease from your earlier cooking. Before he could say anything, you blurted out an apology.

“Sorry, I think I might’ve gone a little overboard,” you said, fidgeting with the napkin in your hand. “I guess I got a bit carried away…”

You could feel your heart racing, and the heat of embarrassment mixed with the warmth of the kitchen made you feel even more flustered. You were worried he’d think you were trying too hard or that you were making a bigger deal out of this than it was supposed to be. The casual vibe you had envisioned seemed to have evaporated into something more formal, and now you couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d overstepped.

Spencer blinked, then looked down at the flowers he was holding. He gave you a small, awkward smile. “I was actually worried these might be too much,” he admitted, handing them to you.

You both stood there for a moment, each uncertain of how the other would react, but then you both laughed—soft and relieved. The tension eased, and suddenly, it all felt okay. It wasn’t about overdoing it or trying too hard. It was about the two of you, together, making the best of what could have been a lonely holiday.

“You didn’t overdo it,” he reassured you, his voice warm and sincere. “It’s perfect.”

With a smile, you took the flowers from him, your earlier worries fading away. They were a beautiful mix of colors—deep reds, bright yellows, and a few delicate whites—and they instantly brightened the room. You placed them on the table, feeling a sense of satisfaction as they added a lovely touch to the already charming setting. Maybe it wasn’t the most traditional Thanksgiving, but it was yours, and in that moment, it felt just right.

[pillowspace]

csd ask about that cool concept you had for the end of the fic? may we know any more about it? :3

OH. HEY WAIT, DID I EVER SAY WHAT THAT WAS? I don't actually know what you're referring to exactly, but I can guess

Y/N was never actually from that universe. The CSD universe. They were never even from it. I don't know if you remember the frankenfate au but this was a little secret I held that made frankenfate funny to me, because... because Vale kinda was from a soulmate AU. It just wasn't of the soulmarks or red string variety.

Y/N had a destiny in a modern mer!DCA world, but they were taken from their universe as a toddler to eventually give Sun and Moon a weakness years down the line. I... I know it was William Afton's doing, I think Henry had trapped him someplace and he needed the power of multiple gods to escape or something like that? So he was using Eclipse to get his way, but he secretly had plans to also kill Eclipse once it was all done? That was probably it??

Being brought into this universe, it was like... forcefully jamming together two soulmates when Y/N's narrative was meant for a different Sun entirely. Y/N would find this out later, and although it'd be horrifying to them, they'd eventually decide that it didn't matter if this bond was planned with ill intent, they cared about Sun and Moon now so they had to HELP them! Once William or whatever the hell I planned to call him had trapped both Sun and Moon and gotten what they needed out of Y/N, William would just... send them back off. You've completed their role in this universe. Bye bye now.

So Y/N would've been sent back to their original world. Lost and horribly confused. They were only human. They didn't know how to go back. They're still reeling from realizing that they had been a trap since the moment they met Sun. They could just... stay here, even if they're too scared to approach their own family. Knowing how their life was meant to play out, it's not hard for Y/N to stick close to the sea and soon meet the Sun and Moon they were fated to meet. And it feels like something's clicked, they had always been drawn to water, but they also feel so... empty. Their wants conflict with their fate because a god had decided to tamper with it. They miss their universe, this isn't the home they were raised in, they want to go back!!

And then they meet Michael and Elizabeth. Two gods who Y/N had met in godly disguise before, so they don't recognize the siblings. But Michael recognizes them, and after some conversations, Michael picks up on the fact that Y/N isn't some parallel version but instead the very same person he had met before. So Michael makes an offer. I can't get you directly back to your universe, it doesn't work like that. But it does work like a staircase. Each step is a different universe, and if you'll let me help you get through each world having fulfilled a goal, you'll be able to move on to the next. At the end of that journey will be the universe you truly see as home.

Y/N agrees, and later has a heartfelt goodbye with the mers. I'll... note that the mers don't really talk, so it was just Y/N thanking them, apologizing, and wishing them well in life.

Truthfully, I know I had a reason for how this happens, but I can't remember it: CSD Eclipse also travels with Y/N. They're there, I can't remember why 😭 But their dynamic is... easier then. The two (three?) of them bicker back and forth, but that's a lot healthier than whatever Eclipse had going on previously.

Fun fact!! One of the universes they would end up in on their journey back to the CSD Universe would actually have Sunna and Meno. Y/N would've gotten to meet them separately. Eclipse would've had... feelings about that universe.

I didn't want to drive in the idea of soulmates being this big and necessary thing, so Y/N would eventually come to learn after their happy ending with the gods that the mers are now happy with friends of their own. Everyone got what they wanted, even if the whole rhythm of life got disrupted into a new story.

SO? SURPRISE? CSD Y/N WAS FROM A MER UNIVERSE THE ENTIRE TIME? I hope this is coherent, I'm fighting for my life to sound even remotely coherent in any of this

[ghouljams]

how does one become free of insecurity? i’m already doing therapy but i feel i’ve only moved away from hating myself so much i want to d*e into just thinking everyone’s better than me

It's a long journey, but well worth it.

I don't think anyone is ever truly free of insecurity, but I think there's also a lot that is unpacked simply through the language we use to describe ourselves and the jokes we allow other people to make at our expense.

Therapy is great at helping you deal with the big feelings, but sometimes little things get caught in your head and it's hard to shake them. Here are some things that I do to keep myself feeling good, and also some things that I'm working on:

No suicide jokes. I make it a point never to joke about "oh I'll just kill myself" or anything like that because ultimately it just makes me feel worse and nobody finds it funny. It's also a good way to change your thinking and direct your solution brain away from "I'll just end things when shit gets hard." This one is a constant battle.

I compliment myself whenever I have the chance. I take every compliment someone gives me. I pretend to be vapid and self-absorbed. I make kissy faces at myself in the mirror. I tell other people how pretty I am, and I don't fucking care if they think I'm a stupid bimbo because I'm trying to love myself and that's more important.

Being kinder to my younger self. This one feels weird but I found myself being mean to little Ghoul when I was really sad. It feels easy to take out your anger on a kid that didn't know any better, and it doesn't guilt you because that's you that you're hating. But look. You were just a kid. You weren't stupid or ugly or unlovable or evil, you were a kid. I just caught myself calling my teenage self ugly the other day on my way to visit my mom and I had to stop and go "why am I saying this? I was just a kid." And it made me cry a li'l bit ngl, but if felt... idk it felt good in a way.

Don't let fucking anyone tell you, you're not worth it. Does your friend make jokes about how dumb you are? Or how you're so cringey? Or so embarrassing or bad at something or forgetful or WHATEVER? Yeah, fuck that noise. Tell them to stop doing that. Tell them it hurts your feelings and if they still don't stop they aren't your friend, they're your bully. I fucking hate bullies. Don't let anyone talk down to you, I don't care if it was a joke at first, it's not funny anymore. Fuck them.

This is something I'm working on, but when you start fixing one insecurity another will probably pop up. I've been working for a long time on liking how I look, and it's gone really well. But now I'm insecure about my intelligence. So I have to stop myself from calling myself stupid or not answering questions. I just fucking rocked my work trivia party, and Mr. Ghoul thinks I'm smart, so I just gotta keep track of my wins. Sometimes you realize that making yourself secure in one thing makes you insecure about another, but that's ok! There's a learning curve to all of this.

Everyone thinks everyone else is better than them. You don't have to be the best at everything, you don't even have to be the best at one thing! What's important is that you're doing your best. People notice when you're working hard, even if you're not churning out the best product because it means you care about it. Which brings me to

Done is better than perfect. Sure it would be great if you were God's most specialist soldier, but think about how much work that would be! Ok so you're not the world's best knitter, but the scarf you made your friend is their favorite scarf anyway because you made it. So you're not a world class writer, but you had a story in your head and you wrote it down. That's better than it never being written at all. Also just because you think it's bad doesn't mean other people won't think it's a masterpiece. Hell, half of the fics I wrote when I first started this blog I could write better now but that doesn't make them bad, it just means I've gotten better.

We as humans are constantly improving and evolving. Don't let who you are no stop you from striving towards who you'll be in the future. Taking one step down the path towards loving yourself is better than giving up and hating yourself forever. It's slow going, but man I've been doing this shit for a decade and I'm so much happier than I was at 18.

You might think that the more you improve the harder and faller you'll fall back to the bottom, but the lows don't get that low again. You're doing great. I'm proud of you.

[rita-repulsa-ke]

Nicky and Death

Nicky is three, playing by a creek a little ways away from camp, entertaining himself by trying to stack rocks together while his mother cooks.

He places a rock with great care and then a woman is there, kneeling on the ground next to him. “Wow,” she says. “Nice rocks.”

Nicky has a toddler’s sensitivity to condescension and there’s none in her voice. She does really seem to like the rocks. “I building a tower. I can do up to six and then it fall,” he tells her, an extroverted child, used to charming people on his mother’s behalf.

“Hmm. I bet we can do more than six. What do you think?” she asks.

He considers, then hands her a rock and she isn’t actually that much better at it than him, but by the time his mama calls for them, they’ve managed a tower of ten.

He’s too focused on the rocks, he doesn’t notice the way the strange woman freezes like a hunting dog sighting prey when Agatha’s voice rings out. “If any little boys were out there and wanted dinner, now would be the time to come back.”

“Coming, mama!!” He yells, then, “That’s my mama,” he tells the stranger.

“So it is,” she agrees and there is a tone in her voice, like she’s got a cold, strangely sniffly. He should know, he gets them a lot. “Is she a good mama?”

He nods. “Mos’ly. She makes me eat ve’gatles.”

“Truly terrible. Do you want to play together again sometime?”

He nods. The stranger is good at stacking rocks and he likes having someone to play with when his mama is busy.

“All right. But listen, little Nicholas. You mustn’t tell your mother about me. Or I’ll have to disappear and never come back.”

He accepts this with a child’s acceptance of fairytale logic, the same way he accepts that she knows his name with no introduction. “‘K.”

She offers him her hand and they shake like adults.

“Nicky, hurry it up, the food is getting cold!” His mama yells.

“G’tta go. Bye,” he tells his mysterious new friend, bounds up and races away toward his mama and food he hopes contains no vegetables of any kind.

“…She’s always so impatient,” Rio murmurs, flicking the tower of rocks over, her ears pricked to hear the distant sounds of a woman and a boy chatting together. “…Miss you so much, my heart.”

She sits, listens and grieves for some unknowable length of time, until eventually, between one breath and next, she disappears, stops listening but never stops grieving.

[baocean]

enchanted - trevor zegras

summary: your friends dragged you to an nhl game, even though you had no interest in any of it. something caught your interest, quick, a brunette hockey player who kept glancing into the crowd.

warnings: smut, extremely long fic, that’s it 😛

authors note: my first nhl fic omg! i hope you guys liked it, im looking to write more! pls drop ur opinion below!!!!! let me know if you want to be added to my taglist ⭐️ enjoy, muah

“i really have homework i need to do.” you frowned at your friends, they laughed as they brushed you off.

your roommates were pulling you out of the apartment tonight for an anaheim game, despite your many protests.

anika’s dad was the equipment manager, and had gotten front row seats to the game tonight for her and her roommates.

it was saturday night, which meant you didn’t have classes tomorrow, but still had things to do. homework due.

you were grateful for anika’s dad for thinking of you, but you really did have bio homework to worry about.

that didn’t matter, because an hour later you were sat in the arena, the glass only five feet in front of you.

anika to your left, isla and charlotte to your right. you had already grabbed a diet coke, getting comfortable in your seat.

the crowd cheered as the home team skated out onto the ice for warmups. you clapped a few times, anika bumping you in the shoulder.

you watched as the players skated around the ice, gracefully passing a puck between them. some were stretching, some were quietly talking to each other in the corner.

one, in particular, was making laps around his side of the ice. your eyes caught onto him, following along so easily.

his dark hair trickled out the back of his helmet, his chain falling just above his jersey.

he circled back around towards where you and your friends were sitting, so confident he couldn’t see you.

and when his eyes flicked to you for the first time, your heart dropped.

he kept them on you, skating past you. his head turned, in effort to keep staring.

after antagonizing seconds of his stares, he finally turned back towards the ice, flicking a puck in front of him.

“holy shit, bee. i saw that.” isla turned towards you, her face filled with shock.

you wanted to laugh at the nickname she used. your friends picked it up when they first saw the picture of you at four years old dressed as a bumble bee. they’d been calling you ‘bee’ ever since.

you smiled and shook your head, hiding the blush on your face.

“i don’t know what you mean. he was not looking at me.” you looked back at the ice, and sure enough, there he was, looking right at you.

he turned to talk to another player, and you finally got to read his jersey, zegras.

“you’re full of shit.” isla laughed, tapping your leg. you laughed along, leaning into her.

slowly, the players started trickling off the ice, until zegras and one other player were the only ones left.

he did a few more laps, shooting some pucks.

when he passed you, his stick flew up to hit the glass, making you jump.

he turned to look at you, sizing your reaction, giving you a smile when he saw you laugh. then, he disappeared into the tunnel.

“oh my god. trevor zegras totally likes you.” anika grabbed your shoulders.

“trevor.” you let his name rattle around in your head, taste it on your tongue. “are you crazy? he doesn’t even know me.”

“don’t care, he’s in love.” anika shrugged you off, definite on her opinion.

the first period started, the ducks starting out strong. anytime trevor was on the ice, it was like you were in a trance. it didn’t help that he was so good at hockey.

the game flew by much faster than expected, all with trevor’s help.

it was over before you realized. the ducks coming out to the middle of the ice to celebrate.

they tapped their sticks, trevor’s eyes involuntarily falling to you.

as the players filled off the ice for one last time that night, you watched as trevor lifted his hand to wave, just enough for you.

you returned it, wiggling your fingers as you smiled at him. he dipped his head, and disappeared.

sunday morning came much quicker than you would have liked.

the early morning drive across two towns to get to your childhood home was something you would never look forward to.

but, your brother had his first day of hockey camp. both your parents worked. so, you were the only option to pick him up and drop him off at the rink by your house.

he was sitting outside your house when you pulled up. he hauled his gear and sticks into the back of your car, sliding into the front seat.

“morning.” you smiled at miles. he smiled back at you, but didn’t say much the entire drive.

when you got to the rink, you both headed inside. miles left towards the locker room, you headed towards the table where you could sign your little brother in.

the lady at the front table was nice and welcoming, offering a pamphlet to you.

you were looking down at her, watching her as she explained the events that will happen over the next few weeks, each saturday and sunday.

she was cut off by a “carla, do you have a roster sheet for me?”

you looked up, barely registering who had walked over before a swear word fell from his lips.

trevor stood in front of you, skates on and hands gloved, looking utterly stunned.

your face probably had the same look. you blinked, maybe you were dreaming. the cute nhl player was not standing in front of you right now, at your brothers hockey camp, no way.

still, he pulled his glove off, stuffing it in his armpit, reached out to shake your hand. “i’m trevor. nice to…meet you?”

the last bit came as a question, you laughed, told him your name.

his lips tipped up in a smile, secretly soaking in your name, how it sounded.

you let go of his hand, but stayed where you were to memorize him. his hair flipped out under his beanie, his smile lines, the roughness of his hands and how soft his face looked.

"well, i gotta go, y'know. you got a kid playing or something?" he looked almost worried to ask the question.

"brother."

"okay, have fun watching, see you after?" trevor's voice was filled with hope, searching for the same feeling he had in you.

"yea, see you after." you nodded, watching as he walked away towards the rink entrance, knowing he would look back. he did, just before the door closed.

he was euphoric on the ice, so graceful and balanced while doing something, anything. he looked up from where you were in the stands a few times, never waving, just confirming you were still there.

he caught up to you in the lobby almost immediately after the two hour skate was done. his cheeks were red, and he was a little bit sweaty, but looked just as pretty as ever.

"what'd you think about it?" he asked you. though you didn't have much to say, trevor listened like it was the most important thing he was hearing.

you were about to compliment him, take a leap of faith, when- "bee, can we get food on the way home?"

you turned to see you brother glance between you and his new coach. trevor's face scrunched up, "bee?"

you sighed, "it's a nickname. sure, miles, let's get going," you turned back to trevor, "it was nice meeting you."

"you too. you'll be here next week?" he asked, taking a step towards you, like he wasn't ready to let you go yet.

"sure." you gave him one last, sweet smile as you walked out with your brother, ignoring miles' glances.

the next weekend, you were there again, dressed a little bit better, makeup and hair done with slightly more effort.

trevor was waiting by the booth, where carla was sitting, offering you a familiar smile.

once again, miles peeled off towards the locker rooms, trevor meeting you in the middle of the room.

"you look good." he offered, drinking you in like you've known each other for years.

"thanks, trevor." you cocked your head to the side, the shorter pieces of your hair falling in your face.

"was thinking maybe i could get your phone number? invite you and your friends to another one of my games?" calm as ever, trevor grabbed his phone out of his sweatpants pocket, unlocking it and handing it to you.

you didn't say anything, just put your number in and send a simple text to yourself. handing his phone back to trevor, he smiled and typed on the keyboard.

flashing his phone at you, you took in the 'bee' contact name, rolling your eyes within seconds.

"not you too." you groaned, pushing your head into your hands. trevor memorized the light pink color of your nails, the rings on your fingers.

"me too, baby. gotta go, i'll text you." he gave you a tooth rotting smile, rushing off into the locker room.

he hadn't given the nickname a second thought, calling you like he had been his entire life.

watching him skate would never get old. maybe it was how fast he could skate, how visibly strong he was, how when he was focused on a play, his tongue would poke out. the movements of his body and how he'd chew on his gloves when he was off in his own space.

whatever it was, you wanted more of it, alone. you shifted in your seat, watching the clock count down, unbearably slow.

when the zamboni started onto the ice as players shuffled off, you made your way to the lobby, like always.

it was easy for him to spot you out in the crowd of parents and grandparents, having your features engraved into his mind since the night he met you.

a simple conversation, some adventurous glances and hopeful smiles, before your brother came out of the locker room, looking at you like he'd caught you in the act, a tradition.

that night, he'd texted you, you were back in your apartment. sitting on the couch, your computer you were working on dinging. 'unfortunately i cannot stop thinking about you', followed by a 'well, not unfortunate', then 'i may need to see you sooner than thursday night'.

you sat there, almost stunned. he had so casually thrown around words so genuine like that.

'what did you have in mind?' you replied, going back to your work, only to be pulled away a second later.

'i might go to a concert with my friends tomorrow, i can grab you a ticket. you like 21 savage?'

tomorrow you had a major test due, you still said yes, anyway. abandoning your laptop, you rushed to your anika's room, searching for an outfit.

"i can't believe you're going out with trevor zegras. im in shock, i think." anika laid on her bed, an hour later, after successfully picking an outfit that she said 'would have trevor falling to his knees'.

"were not going out, im just going to a concert with him and his friends." you shrugged her off, admiring yourself in the mirror.

"oh my god, bee. what did he say? he couldn't stop thinking about you?" anika sat up, her blonde hair falling around your shoulders. you couldn't help but giggle, shrugging your shoulders.

"that's what i thought. you need to tell me everything tomorrow. im talking second by second, play by play, i need to know."

he had picked you up an hour before the concert started. it was the first time you'd seen him with short sleeves on, your breath staggered when you caught sight of his arm, covered in a sleeve of tattoos. you were fully, completely entranced with trevor, in the worst way possible.

the car ride was filled with trevor and you bickering about songs, his horrible singing, and him sneaking mesmerized glances when you weren't looking.

he and his friends had booked a private room to the left of the stage, fixed with an array of food and a private waitress for drinks.

"bee, this is cole, jack, quinn, and jamie. guys, this is bee." trevor pointed to each boy. you went to correct him, but lacked on reasons to. you liked the way it sounded coming out of trevor's mouth, the way he said it with so much bliss.

it was much later into the night, the music blaring through the arena as trevor's friends stood off on the other side of the balcony connected to the room, singing away.

trevor mouthed some lyrics every once in a while, you knew because you couldn't help but sneak flashes at him, he looked so good in the light.

he leaned forward to take a drink of his beer, and when he leaned back, his hand slid onto your knee.

your poor heart couldn't help but swoon, everything he did, he acted so comfortably, so homely around you. everything he does to you, he acts like its been done a million times. that doesn't stop him from asking, "is that okay?"

you nodded, snaking your hand up and around his neck, your fingers twisting and curling around his hair on the back of his neck.

it was so innocent, so high school, and yet, your mind raced. the thoughts of what could come, from a hand on a knee and fingers in hair, you wanted to laugh at yourself. you were sure the beer from trevor's cup you kept sneaking was not helping.

you'd been like this for what seemed like hours. hands on shoulders, knees, thighs, hips, but nothing more. the simple act of showing the other they were feeling the same way.

the concert was ending, the stream of people below you filing up the stairs towards the exit. you, a little tipsy, and trevor, completely captivated by you and how soft your skin was, followed his friends out the room and into the hallway.

trevor grabbed onto your hand when it got crowded, not needing to look back, he was so aware of you.

it was a long walk to get back to trevor's car, losing his friends along the way, waving goodbye to them, never letting go of trevor's hand.

"you look magical right now." trevor said, his car was in sight, you were so close.

"what?" you laughed, skipping along with him. you had so much energy right now, you were pretty sure you could run a marathon.

"i'm not sure, i just look at you and thats the word i think of." he laughed along with you, the sound of it ringing through your ribcage.

without a second thought, you pulled him towards you, his body swinging around to face you. grabbing onto his arm with one hand, and wrapping another around the back of his neck, you pulled him down to kiss him.

his arms wrapped around your waist, so easily, and leaned into you. he kissed so sweetly, yet so desperately, like he was begging for more.

he gave you three pecks, the last one, his teeth pulling your bottom lip out, letting it pop back against your teeth.

your stomach dropped, not from fear, or anger, from the overwhelming sense that you would let trevor do whatever he wanted, whenever.

"let me get you home, bee." he whispered, pulling you towards his car, opening the door and helping you in.

you spent the car right home, his hand on your leg, your head on his shoulder, as he told you stories about his career over the years.

when he dropped you off, you kissed him once on the lips, he kissed you once on the cheek, said 'goodnight bee', then left you at the entrance of your apartments, enchanted.

your apartment was filled with music and laughter from the four girls living in it. clothes thrown on floors, makeup and hair tools spread across bathroom counters, a bottle of titos and an emptied orange juice bottle abandoned in the kitchen.

isla was deciding on a orange or black jacket, you pointed to the black one, she put on the orange. charlotte was finishing curling her hair, anika and you were sitting on the couch, checking when the uber would arrive.

like he said, trevor had given you four tickets to his home game against the leafs tonight. he wasn't able to text you much these past few hours, but he'd told you he was excited to see you and he'd arrange you guys get down to the locker room after the game.

once your friends were ready and stable, you were in the uber towards the stadium, singing along to the lyrics, taking pictures with isla's digital camera.

the seats were still front row, but not near the tunnel like they were last time. this time, they were right next to the duck's penalty box.

warmups started, the players rushing out of the tunnel. you, obviously, blown away when trevor stepped out onto the ice, immediately clocking where you were sitting, smirking.

like he had done the first time you had met, when he passed, his stick flew up to hit the glass in front of you, scaring you once again. you rolled your eyes, but couldn't help laugh with your friends.

the game was going well, the ducks up one goal with ten minutes left in the third period.

you watched as trevor tussled with another player in the corner, lifting his elbow up, connecting it with the guys jaw, knocking him back.

the whistle blew, and suddenly, trevor was sitting next to you, only a piece of glass separating you two.

you looked at him, knowing he probably wouldn't look back, scared cameras could catch him, people would catch on.

instead, he turned his head towards you, smiling. "hi, baby." he mouthed, tapping the bud of his stick on the glass before turning back, grabbing a water bottle and squirting from it.

you were so intensely infatuated with him, everything he did. the way he wasn't afraid to address you in from of tens of thousands of people, the way his jaw moved as he squirted water into his mouth, the way he squirted water into his mouth.

you weren't able to see him directly after the game, you only received a text, 'go down the hallway under the stairs in entrance a, tell the guy ur name, ur on the list'. bidding your friends goodbyes with hugs and making sure they made it to their uber, you ventured down the hallway.

once you made it past the man, who's name was brian, you found yourself in a parking garage. you spotted trevor leaning against his car, wearing a navy suit, his hair wet from a shower.

you walked towards him, trevor looking up from his phone, a smile lighting his features. "hey, bee. d'ya like the game?"

you nodded, fingers gripping his jaw as you pulled him into a hard kiss. not caring if anyone saw you two, his hand grabbed your neck and hip.

pulling back, you took a struggled breath, so overwhelmed with bliss. "now."

"now?" trevor breathed, the same level of love drunk. he nodded with you, opening the back door for you, following you inside.

he laid on top of you, kissing you with twice as much neediness. hands going everywhere, under your shirt, up your leg, through your hair, lacing with your hand.

unbuttoning his shirt, untucking it from his pants, and tossing it on the floorboards, you sighed. he was an angel, truly.

his hands played with the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head, throwing it on the ground, letting it introduce itself to his.

his hands, much larger than yours, pulled any other fabric, pants and bras and underwear, out of the way, lightly nipping at your nipples, sending shocks through you.

"you are absolutely, without a doubt, the most beautiful girl ive ever seen." trevor whispered. you weren't sure if you were meant to hear it, but it still sent shivers down your spine.

trevor angled himself down in-between your legs, pushing one finger into you, drawing an anticipated moan out of you.

his left hand sprawled out against your stomach as his right hand worked you, whispering affections.

"you're so pretty. like a dream." he hummed words so dear, so easily. it had you squirming from above him.

his thumb came up to rub your clit, you arching your back in response. "can't take it, can't take it, trev."

"you can, baby, you got it. go 'head, bee." his words drove you over the edge, the feeling crashing over you, flattening you.

not for long, because trevor had flipped you, your legs wrapped around his now, chests aligned.

"can i?" he asked, his hands on your hips, ready. you nodded, watching his eyes drop towards where his hand was meeting the two of you.

as he slid into you, he threw his head back, groaning. you mimicked his actions, hands grabbing onto his hard shoulders.

the car was warm, the windows fogged, filled with the sounds of each others breathy moans and his kisses on your neck and cheek.

you started bobbing up and down, draws moans and huffs from the boy under you each time.

his hands stayed on his hips, guiding you, while he let you roam your hands on his chest and shoulders and neck and hair, anywhere you pleased.

"you feel so good. made for me, huh, bee?" trevor gasped out, his head falling back once more.

he was telling the truth, you felt like heaven, like silk and gold. truly, like you were made for him.

"i was made for you, trev." you whispered, inflicting a reaction out of him, his dick twitching.

his hand fell where you were connected, fumbling with your clit again. he watched as your face contorted, as you whined and moaned, and came again.

you watched as he smiled, love drunk, and continued his pace as he leaned his head back.

you grabbed his chin, like you had the plenty times before, so familiar, pulling it up for him to look at you.

"cum for me, trevor, cum in me." you whined, partially impressed you got all that out, feelings of sensitivity and pleasure overwhelming you in every sense.

his head dropped again, this time on your shoulder, as he finished.

you stayed like that for a while, breathing heavily, hands still wrapped around shoulders and held tightly onto hips.

then, trevor was laughing. you perked up, questioning him.

"its just, if you told me the night we met, that the gorgeous girl he saw, he met again and was actually into him, he'd probably cry then and there. i'm lucky, is all."

you weren't sure what to say to that, so you laughed with him, then pulled him in for a kiss.

his eyes fluttered open, pupils blown out in complete and utter bliss. "you wanna sleep over tonight?"

[princessniquane]

HIM (Yunho's POV)

Yunho/reader

Tags: librarian!Yunho, pining, bad flirting, mention of stalker!Seonghwa, supportive friend Mingi, a bit of angst

There she is again

“Gosh she’s so pretty,” Yunho says as he watches you walk inside the library. 

“Why don’t you ask them out?” Mingi suggests.

“I can’t,” he says.

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. What if I’m not their type?”

Mingi laughs at his best friend. “Are you crazy! Of course you’re their type! You’re everybody’s type Yunho! Come on man.”

Yunho sighs. Grabbing the overdue books and taking them to the back. He contemplates on how he should ask them out. He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous to ask you out but he is.

He knows how kind and caring you are from the little interactions you both had. He goes to your coffee shop every morning for breakfast and he knows you volunteer from one of his friends, who also volunteers at the same hospital.

He can’t really describe it, but he just likes you and wants to get to know you. He doesn’t want to be weird about it, but he’s also freaking out! He’s never felt like this before, always so confident in making friends. Is it because he wants to be more than just friends? 

He pouts. As he goes outside to get some fresh air, he sees you outside helping someone who is rubbing their nose. Yea he must have hit his nose on the glass door, he wouldn’t be the first or last person to do it. Actually it was Yunho himself that was the first to hit their nose on the shiny glass door of the library.

Just thinking about it makes him rub his nose at the memory. Yunho looks at the guy’s face and gives him a knowing but sympathetic smile as he walks in, face all red. Yunho turns to walk outside to you but you’re already gone. Damnit, next time.

It’s been a few weeks since you last came into the library and Yunho was getting antsy. Yes of course he still saw you in the morning but you’re always swamped with customers. He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or pressured to answer him when you weren’t really thinking about it.

He would never do that to you. People who do that should be ashamed of themselves to do that to another person. Yunho wants to be a gentleman and give you a chance to well, think about it and give him a chance.

His best friend, Mingi, has been really there for him when he feels like just giving up. He’s seen you come in one time but he couldn’t get a chance to talk with you and that just put him in an even sulkier mood. 

One morning, Yunho wakes up late and couldn’t get breakfast or, most importantly, see your face. It was just a terrible feeling but Yunho just sucked it up and put a smile on his face. Once it’s time for a break, he gets a surprise. Not from his best friend Mingi nor his other friends but you.

You smile that beautiful smile at him and it just takes away the horrible morning he had away. His day is so much better, even more so, you brought him lunch.

“Um hi Yunho. I didn’t see you during the morning rush and wondered if you had any time to eat. Sorry if this is weird, I just.”

“Oh no no! Not weird at all! I really appreciate this. I haven’t eaten this morning so, thank you, you’re an angel for this. I mean not that you’re not always angel I just mean…..thank you,” he smiles looking away and rubbing the back of his head.

You chuckle quietly. “Cute.”

“What?” He asks shocked.

“Um…I-It’s nothing sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for. Thank you again for this I um….ok so….I’ve been meaning to tell you, well ask you for weeks but would you like to go on a date with me?”

“Oh um…”

“This is not because you brought me food, I’m very grateful for it but, I always wanted to ask you out but I wasn’t sure….if you would say yes.”

“Yes.”

“Like it’s totally fine if you say- wait what?”

“I said yes. I would like to go on a date with you,” you smile up at him.

Yunho can’t believe it. His eyes widen in excitement before his brain can comprehend what is happening. While Yunho gapes at you, you grab a piece of paper and write your name and phone number, handing it to him. He takes it and does the same giving you his number. 

“I’ll be waiting for you call,” you say to him and leave the library. He just nods his head in disbelief. Yunho looks around him because he can’t believe he just asked you out, finally.

He laughs and starts to go to the office to tell Mingi but something catches his eye. It was the same guy from before but he’s….glaring at Yunho. If looks could kill, Yunho would be in a pool of his own blood right now. A shiver goes down his spine but he ignores it and goes tell Mingi the good news.

A/N: Might make this a lil series idk, let me knwo if yall want more, likes and reblogs are appreciated!

Part 1

[backjustforberena]

I love the way you say she is a dragon-rider before anything else because that's such a nice way to look at it. Before anything else, and outlasting anything else, she was a dragon-rider. It's the constant in her life. Her other accolades can be made irrelevant or even negative (like being a Targaryen Princess) but to be a dragon-rider is always a good thing, a thing to be proud of, a thing to fear, a thing to take power from. It is always a part of her and her reputation and the implications are fierce. It's a blessing.

RHAENYRA: If dragons begin fighting dragons, we invite our own destruction. Fear of it is in itself a weapon. The Greens will make the same calculation. BROOME: The value of a sword is not within its scabbard.

And Meleys has to be that sword. And that's why Rhaenys glares at him: not just for the callous way he wants to burn Green strongholds, which would only incite a similar response from the Greens and would absolutely mean a loss of innocent lives. Rhaenys would be only too aware that, now that Daemon has left for Harrenhal, the dragon who will be fighting other dragons is hers.

Vermax and Moondancer are young (and ridden by her teenage grandchildren), Syrax and Rhaenyra cannot be risked because that's the monarch. It's her. She's the only one that can do it - and, as we know, she is the one to do it.

"Sending Meleys into war isn't just sending a weapon, you are asking Rhaenys to risk the potential loss of part of her very soul."

LOVE THAT!!!! And it concurs with something that Eve says, "She truly believes that the end justifies the means, even if it means sacrificing her own humanity in the process" - I love the idea that participating in dragon warfare is a sacrificial act even before it becomes a literal sacrifice for both Rhaenys and Meleys. That chimes for me.

And you can also read your statement two ways. A loss of a part of her very soul as in literally losing Meleys and Meleys dying in the conflict. But also something even before that. Losing a part of her soul or morals or humanity by using Meleys in such a way as well. Putting her in that scenario.

Meleys is capable of more than aggression. Meleys has feelings and empathy and is humanised. She is an individual being, not simply an extension of Rhaenys or a tool for her to use. There is conscious and consistent thought about her wellbeing. That bond is everything to Rhaenys. It's something she risks her life for. It's something she lives for. And it's central to Rhaenys, with that battle, and also broadly in terms of her character - that he dragon is part of her and her dragon is so much more than a weapon:

"the core of any Targaryen is a dragon."

"My dragon and I have a tender bond [...]"

"[...] her only ally and her only friend is Meleys."

"I think, at that point, her own fate means less. It’s what’s going on with Meleys that’s agony."

"[...] knowing that there was nothing she could do, feeling that it was her fault and that she’d somehow let down Meleys."

"you see the dragon respond and they’re taking care of each other in that moment."

"[...] feeling that somehow she’d let her down or betrayed her in some way..."

"I felt like Rhaenys was saying help and Meleys just says, “you’ve got this.” That moment of connection felt really important."

"The poetry of her literally coming to an end in the sky on her dragon and letting go into eternity is perfect."

In a series that puts quite a lot of stock in the idea of religion, prophecies, gods and touchstones, it doesn't escape me that Rhaenys looks like she's praying here:

I really like the idea that Rhaenys gets just... steamed whenever someone dehumanises Meleys or trivialises her - treats her as a pawn or just an asset.

So instances like when Meleys is imprisoned by the Greens just for what she is and what she could mean for the war, when Daemon just counts Meleys amongst the fighting dragons for Team Black, or he tries to order Rhaenys to take her "mount" and fly with him, or whenever ANY of the men on the Black Council say they should use dragons, send dragons, press their advantage (dragons).

All of those times, I feel like Rhaenys is, to various degrees, outraged.

I think whenever Rhaenys councils against dragon warfare and the bloodiness of it and when she responds to suggestions of attacking with dragons (like side-eying Alfred Broome and wishing his head would catch fire) or the inevitably of it... it's with a personal stake.

Because it's not just unleashing hell. It has specific implications and a specific role and specific risk for a creature that Rhaenys loves.

When they talk about sending dragons to war, it's sending Meleys to war.

[scorpiusmalfoylovesoscarwilde]

headcanon that scorpius was a sick child and was in and out of hospital constantly, perhaps related to astoria's blood curse but not directly. his immune system isnt very strong, and everytime he gets sick they're terrified that it's the blood curse but also whatever else it could be, because it's always so sudden and so intense and they call healers over to the house who recommend this delirious feverish 4 year old is hospitalised immediately, and you'd think it'd get easier to some extent because they'd be used to it, but everytime they feel like this is it, this is the time he'll walk in to the hospital and not walk out again

[trislosherfan25]

I feel so much more tormented than my other trans friends ngl

[galmiahthepigeon]

It's crazy how my m*m will be like "why don't you tell me more things why won't you share your internal life with me" and then every time I actually decide to tell her something important she turns the conversation into a minefield and a two-hour lecture on how I'm bad at relationships. Very fun and cool 👍

[gibbearish]

am finally back home and can say without a doubt that i am just fundamentally not built for long distance travel however the train was much nicer than planes