#( its just something i wanna say && that be it ha ha )

[amoressb]

𐙚 old love

pairings : ex bf!riki x reader ; exs to lovers

synopsis : it has been almost a year since y/n and riki have broken up, though the reason behind it is quite silly. simply stating that you both were on different paths. while on your “different” paths, you both reminisce the times you have spent together, the special moments now turned into memories, but what if your paths werent so different at all? especially since both paths lead you to the same tree where you two shared your first kiss together under the enchanting moonlight.

*inspired by my favorite song old love by yuji & putri dahlia !!

* this is a long one so i hope you all enjoy till the very end !!

waking up you already knew it would be a particularly sadder day than the rest, as with each day it draws closer to the day you and your ex boyfriend, nishimura riki, broke up. which would now complete a year. a year without, who you consider, your special someone. a year without your best friend. just a year without him.

this is what you both were afraid of when you both started dating. you both were afraid of that one dreaded day where you two would split, but you guys never thought it would happen. that night you both lost the most important thing in your lives.

in the beginning of the break up it was of course very hard to deal with. yes it was a mutual agreement but you both couldn’t help but feel that it was a mistake. both were too afraid to speak up about how they truly feel after they had already agreed to split and that right there was their true problem. communication. you both became very closed off when it came to communicating youre feelings. you both would simply ask each other what was wrong and if neither said anything, it simply gets brushed off.

throughout the rest of the day it was quite noticeable that your mood was down. your friends came up to you, called and even messaged you asking if you were doing okay, but of course you simply said you were fine. it had been like this ever since the beginning of this month. wake up sadder than yesterday and have people ask you if you were feeling okay and you saying you were fine.

you missed riki very badly as did he. it’s unbelievable how you two have gone this far without getting back in contact. the only thing you can think of is going on a late night walk so you grabbed your jacket and headed out.

since it was quite late, the streets were quiet with the occasional cars passing by and the whistle of the wind. while on the walk you started to remember some memories you had with riki, but there was one memory that you will forever cherish. the day you and riki shared your first kiss.

ʚɞ

you and riki have been dating for 3 months and you guys couldnt be happier. since today marks the third month, riki wanted to take you on a sweet date. he surprised you by taking you to a place where you can paint your own pottery. oh how cute this date was. you both decided to make a matching set together.

“so what should we paint my love?” said riki while looking at you with excitement. “ooo do you wanna make a matching set? i think that would be cute!” you said grabbing onto his hand almost jumping in your seat from excitement. “yeah sure but what?” he scooted his chair closer to yours still holding your hand since he felt so far from you even though he was just inches away. “i found this cute design but lets add something to the bottom so its more personalized!” you show him the image of what you wanted to do.

rikis heart melted looking at the image. “lets add i love you at the bottom but yours will say riki mines will say y/n” he gives his idea hoping youd take it. “aww that so cute yes lets do it!” you give him a quick kiss on the cheek and started to get you guys stuff ready. rikis was still stuck on the kiss he received on the cheek. even though youve done it a million times, your lips on him would always spread such warmth through him. he couldnt get enough of you truly.

riki had already finished his cup but you were still at it. this gave riki time to really take in your presence and beauty. he adored the face you make when youre concentrated, getting all serious making sure your details came out perfectly. the way some strands of you hair tends to slowly fall in front of you which allows him to draw himself closer to you and brush it away to see more of your beauty. what he loved most was your eyes. the way your eyes always had this beautiful shine to them no matter what. he fell in love with how your eyes shine brighter than before whenever you look at him because thats the exact way he looks at you, with such love and adoration.

you both completed your art and left with your new mugs. the rest of the day was spent going into some stores buying some cute matching things then ultimately a little cafe. after the cafe it was already dark so to end off the night, you and riki decided to go on a simple walk in the park talking about how your day went.

"i really enjoyed our date kiki, i cant wait to use my mug and all these cute new matching stuff we have now!" you say with a little giggle. oh how he loved your little giggle and your laugh all around. simply just you in general is what he loved so much. "me too and i cant wait to go on many more with you my love" he smiles softly at you.

coming up under a tree, you stare at the moon in awe, “its so beautiful kiki” you continue to look up unaware of rikis gaze on you. “yeah it really is beautiful” he says while you turn to catch his enchanted gaze at you. “y/n..i love you more than anything in this world. youre so beautiful and you always know how to light up someones day even with just that pretty smile of yours and you truly mean the world to me.” as riki says this you cant help but only be able to utter the words “i love you-” before you can finish, you feel his soft lips on yours. it felt like fireworks went off as soon as it happened. you never wanted this moment to end and neither did he. as you two pulled apart you two simply giggle sweetly and rest your foreheads against each others staring at each other with nothing but love.

ʚɞ

its almost like you and riki were still connected somehow because he too was also doing the exact same thing as you. he too was feeling the same as you, sadder than before thinking about how hes been away from you for almost a year. he too decided to take a late night walk and started to reminisce all the times hes been with you, the memories he holds so dear to his heart. especially that one.

i also say you two are still connected because those oh so “different paths” unconsciously lead you both to the exact same place you shared that special moment. you both look up at each other, stunned youre both here right now. slowly you two inched your way closer to each other, now standing right in the same special spot.

you both say hi at the same time which makes you two let out a small chuckle. “so..how have you been?” you asked and right there riki broke. he had to tell you how he was truly feeling, the feeling of utter loneliness. the feeling of that there was something missing from his life and it was you. you were everything he needed and he wanted no he needed you back. “can i be honest with you?” he asked sincerely. “yeah you know you can always be honest with me kiki.” oh that sweet nickname you gave him always made him feel so warm inside. it made him feel so special since it was only you who called him that and he loved it so much.

“well then in all honesty i havent been feeling good recently as it draws closer to one year of us being apart. i dont know how or why i havent reached out to you, i miss you so much. i feel as a whole part of me is missing. youre my missing piece y/n. on the walk here you were all i thought of, all those beautiful memories we have had. heck i still use our matching mug that we made and have all our matching things with me always” he states as he brings up his shirt a bit to reveal his keys attached to his pants with the matching keychains you bought as well as the matching ring you two had bought on his finger. seeing that you brought out your keychain and showed your ring too. you two never did let go of each other.

at the sight of this, you and riki both started to tear up. “please baby, i dont want to be away from you anymore” riki stated as a tear started to fall. you got closer and reached your hand up to his cheek to wipe away his tear smiling softly. “me neither kiki” and with that you slowly leaned in to give him a soft yet passionate kiss to his lips and with a quick yet gentle motion he wraps his hands around your waist to pull you in closer to him. oh how he missed you being this close. eventually you pull away much to you and rikis dismay, “will you be mine again? forever this time?” riki asks with a smile, bringing up one hand to softly stroke your cheek. “yes of course. i love you so much kiki” she smiles. “i love you so much more” he says leaning in for another sweet kiss.

even on “different paths” you and riki found a way back into each others arms and what better place to find each other again than where it all truly began.

* if you made it to the end thank you and i hope you liked it ilya !!

[goopgirlie813]

A few months ago I would have agreed with you but uhh no. Zionism is not genocidal you're being lied to my guy. Its literally just "jews deserve to have their own homeland" which does not imply genocide.

Genocide is a very specific thing; targeting a specific ethinicity with the intent remove them.

Israel is... not doing that. A lot of people on social media try to make it seem like they are, but they're not. There is a reason the ICJ only said "they have the ability to commit genocide" and not "they are committing genocide." Its because they could find no evidence of actual genocide. They are at war and horrific things are resulting from that. But its not genocide. Other war crimes, sure. But not genocide specifically.

Anyway I've chatted with you before and you seem like a reasonable person so I just wanna suggest that you maybe let jews tell you what their own words mean and hear them out when they say something is antisemitic. Once you start arguing with a group that you are not part of about whether or not they are facing pejudice, you've lost the ball. Back it up. Reassess. You are not on the ally side of things.

There has been a shit ton of propaganda and things like wikipedia vandalism trying to redefine the term zionism to be genocidal when it really isn't. I'm willing to bet that's what you've been seeing and they were just passed off as legit enough that you didn't question it. Was definitely the case with me. Check that conformation bias and make sure its not driving your reasoning. Speaking from experience.

*This poll was submitted to us and we simply posted it so people could vote and discuss their opinions on the matter. If you’d like for us to ask the internet a question for you, feel free to drop the poll of your choice in our inbox and we’ll post them anonymously (for more info, please check our pinned post).

[lovlidollie]

stepbro rafey who fucks you in front of the family portrait so he can watch guilt induced tears roll down ur pretty face :(

absolutely in love w this !!! cw ; stepcest, dubcon, dacryphilia, p in v, icky rafe

stepbro!rafe has a fucked up sense of humour. he’s always been .. a little twisted. a little cruel. he corners you in the living room, icy blue eyes gleaming with a dangerous mix of lust and malice. the cameron family portrait hangs to the right of the sofa you’re currently perched on, innocent eyes warily looking up at his angular face. he’d been .. looking at you a little differently these past few weeks.. and it had anxiety settling itself deep down in your tummy. you didn’t like it. he was older than you, bigger, stronger. ward and rose weren’t home, wheezie was with a friend, and sarah was off who knows where with her ragtag group of pogues. just the two of you tonight.

“what’s up, rafe?” you question quietly, trying to discreetly pull up the neckline of your tanktop. his lips curl into a slow, wolfish smirk, something so distinctly predatory you feel like sprinting. rafe doesn’t answer your question immediately, eyes flicking between your face and your cleavage. “‘what’s up?’” he echos, caging you in when he moves to take a seat uncomfortably close to you. his thighs touch yours as he stretches an arm over you to rest on the armrest, broad shoulders blocking your escape. “you tell me, sweetheart. you’ve been a little.. skittish ‘round me recently. makes me wonder what y’so nervous ‘bout.”

“‘m not nervous,” you stammer, shrinking further into the cushions. your heart thunders at his proximity. “well, um — if you’re done, ‘m jus’ gonna—”

before you can finish, rafe’s hand shoots out, gripping your wrist firmly. not painfully, not yet, but enough for you to freeze. “nah,” he interrupts, reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair behind your ear. the act is deceptively gentle, but you know his intentions are anything but pure. “wanna talk to you. y’know how much i love you,” he says with a grin, eyes darkening as he glances down to your wet lips. you have a feeling his idea of love isn’t the same as yours.

rafe leans back on the couch, pointing across to the portrait. it was new, recently commissioned to include you. the newest cameron. ward and rose were at the front, his self-satisfied smirk and her pristine smile looking painfully fake. wheezie was between them, her face shining the brightest. at the back, were sarah, rafe and you, his body directly behind you. in the picture, you’d plastered on a polite smile, though if someone looked closer, they’d be able to see the terrified glint to your eyes. rafe had gotten incredibly close, arm wrapped around your waist, hand resting low on your hips. he looked perfect in the portrait, hair perfectly styled, clothes crisp; the epitome of the man ward had raised him to be. ”wha’cha think, huh?”

you shrink into the couch, lips forming a line as you force your words out. “yeah — looks nice.” rafe sucks on his teeth, nodding his head to himself. you move to get up again but this time he’s prepared, grabbing you by the midriff. you think you hear him say “you look so pretty when you’re scared,” but the next thing you know his lips are on yours in a searing, sloppy, wet kiss. it’s all teeth and tongue and it’s so, messy.

you try resist, try hitting him in the shoulder but all he does is take that as confirmation to slip his tongue deeper down your throat. his fingers curl into your top, pads of his fingers dragging against your nipples, pulling you closer. your mind is reeling with the implications of this but your treacherous body betrays you, heat pooling heavy and low in your tummy despite the shame clawing its’ way out of your chest.

rafe groans when you finally manage to land a punch to his sternum, breaking away from you. a string of saliva connects the two of you before snapping, and silence fills the room, nothing except the sounds of your combined panting. “been wantin’ to do that f’a while.” he sounds so cocky, so assured, like he’d planned this the entire time.

“what the fuck,” you whisper, a shaky finger tracing your kiss-bitten lips. “what the fuck, rafe!” you feel the tears spring to your eyes immediately, and rafe’s face lights up like a kid on christmas.

he’s moving, grabbing you by the arms and flipping you over, throwing you like a ragdoll until your upper body is positioned over the armrest. “rafe — rafe wait — wait what.. rafe! we can’t. we, can’t.”

“no one’s here to stop us, baby. c’mon gimme what i want. ‘know you wan’ it too. don’t think i don’t see the ‘lil looks y’throw at me.” you hear him shuffling around, the clink of a belt, and suddenly something long and hard is poking you. “rafe! please!” you sob, even if deep, deep down you knew he was right. you felt so dirty. “‘s’okay, y’family now, right? family helps each other.”

his fingers crawl up your lower half, pulling down your pants and undies just enough for him to expose the globes of your ass and your leaking cunt. “mmmh yeah, see? knew it. its, uh, it’ll be okay. ‘m gonna make it good f’you.” he swipes his cock against your folds a few times, coating his thickness in your dewy wetness, using another hand to hold down your body as you struggle. and then he’s surging in, hips flush against yours within a second. your pussy grips him tight, clenching down on him like a vice, so hard rafe almost doubles over. “shiiit.”

it feels like too much and not enough. you’re full, so incredibly full you swear if you looked at your tummy you’d see his dick poking through. he gives you a second before pulling out slowly and slamming back into you, the couch screeching against the marble with the movement. rafe’s hand curls itself into your hair, twisting it until he can pull your head up. you can barely see the maniacal look in his eyes through your blurry vision, cheeks wet with hot tears.

“look at that,” he breaths out against your ear. your brain is so mushy you don’t even know what he’s talking about until he’s making you look right at the portrait. “perfect little family, yeah? haaah, bet they’d lose their minds if they saw their sweet, innocent girl letting her stepbrother ruin her like this.” he’s destroying you, right under their noses and it fuels him like no high ever could. oh, how he wished they could see you now, all your guilt and shame and the underlying lust. he loves it.

he punctuates it with a harsh thrust, one that has you moaning and subconsciously arching into him. he leans over you, watching the tears fall down your delirious face before licking your cheek with a broad tongue stroke. “keep y’eyes on them,” he nearly growls, voice dripping with raw hunger. his fingers dig painfully into your hips as he sets a brutal pace. “wanna make ‘em watch you cry.”

[inazuman]

dec. 14 ✧ day one ✧ preparing your home for winter - itoshi sae x reader fluff, blue lock. note: reader is close with her mother in this, and has some personality.

"Cute." Sae raises a soft toy out of the box of them, squeezing its head in your direction as if it's nodding. You can't help but laugh at his nonchalant face whilst doing something so childish.

The box is full of them, never thrown out since the day you were born. It makes him about what you must've been like as a child. With a room full of stuffed toys, he imagines, from how many he's seeing in the box right now. Did you covet them, similarly to how you do with him now?

"I don't know what my mom was thinking, buying all of these for me." You sigh, sifting through them for a bit before shutting the box back again, a lift of dust catching the light like fireflies.

"She loves and spoils you. Are you sure you wanna throw all this out?" He gestures to the row of boxes lined against the wall.

You sigh again. You've done that a lot throughout this process, something like pain and grief and fatigue all in one.

"My grandmother was a huge hoarder. It might seem strange but… This is the best thing. The thing I've wanted to do for so long."

You take his hands in yours, lacing your fingers together. "Thank you for being here for me through this. The donations… it feels like a good thing."

He's never sure what to do or what to say when you get like this. Your heavy-heartedness, the sentimentality you hold. Sometimes, he can't believe that all you feel fits in your chest.

It must be heavy, he thinks. He loves you. He'll hold it with you.

He pats your head, and the way you beam at him makes everything a little lighter.

"You've provided so much for me, Sae," you wrap your arms around his neck. "You've given me so much. It feels right, to be able to at least give back a little." You stare out at the boxes, a nostalgic look passing over for just a moment. "This'll all go to homes. It's something my mom and I used to do together, give them out. She'd be happy to hear it's finally going to be of good use. I'll call her and let her know."

You've said this before, that he provides for you. Something about having a home, about security, about finally being able to relax. He's not always sure what you mean, just happy to make you happy. What you provide for him, someone to come home to, a love that feels bigger than the world, your innovation and communication and compassion -- That, he knows. He imagines it's something like that. He hopes it is.

"Giving back does sound good," he hums.

"My mother says it's good feng shui, too, you know. To clear out a home before the new year starts."

"New year, new me?" he jests, and you smack him in the chest.

"It sounds weird when you say it!"

twelve days of selfshipmas event

late post to this event! my family's place is indeed being cleaned out rn w everything going to donation ahaha. i hope everyone has the most loveliest christmas!

[lululuzzz08]

I STAND by this (btw i wrote this 23 military time so it might be messy and a bit crazy, i don’t have sources but.. most of the proof i got has been talked about on Tumblr, i’m not someone who thinks about this stuff without some sort of base. Unless it’s something i really wanna think about.)

I love Snape, he’s so intriguing and the only character i can properly relate to. I get what it feels to make bad choices that other people never forget. I feel like Snape is the perfect morally grey character that all us 2 thousand mistakes losers can relate to.

I hate how the marauder fandom hate Snape cause he’s mean to children and is “ugly”.. Like my guy is literally a rockstar with how he’s described!! HES NEVER EVEN CALLED UGLY. And then these curtain lovers (yes that was a Stranger things ref, link at bottom) Stan and bow down to characters with half a page of info! Don’t get me wrong, i love Eileen Prince (which i don’t see enough of) and Regulus black, all of that sort. But come on man… Barty jr is not an angel compared to Snape! Thats a canon fact, he’s a cold blooded murderer. Snape feels remorse! For Lily OR not, it wouldn’t matter cause the same was with Regulus. He betrayed Tom for his house elf, not muggleborns. Snape betrayed for his MUGGLEBORN childhood friend. Pretty similar huh?

Just because Snape is weird and had unrequited feelings who he never forgot doesn’t mean he’s a creep?? Also saying Snape would touch Harry like THAT if he looked like his mother is HELLA icky. Don’t take traumatized characters with flaws and make them worse. People who have been in Snape’s situation will feel like shit. If i hear one more person saying that crap I’m gonna go insane. Because it connects to a much worse problem in real life. Curtain lovers (i cant find a better name, its just so broad) have always blamed the “Losers” for unordinary or bad situations, stuff that doesn’t fit well. Or stuff the Curtain lovers messed up on. An example would be the past belief that witches lived among us. Now, i don’t want to bring real life situations into this, but hey, at least I’m not saying that Death eaters ARE the Nazi’s…

“Witches” consisted of people the curtain loving in command people (i would say government but idk if it was called that back then, oh well. I’ll just say curtain lovers) found a threat. People that were out of the ordinary. People that thought differently, that were WEIRD and easy to miss-understand. The curtain lovers would blame misfortunes on witches. Uncle Sam’s crops died? Sweetie call the priest cause it’s another darn witch! Oh I’m sorry Rebecca? You like books? As a woman?? I need to call the priest you filthy witch!

I know this might be a bit too deep for some god darn children books but saying Snape would SA Lily is such a dirty way to say you hate a character that you don’t even try to understand. It really dives into what type of person you are.

Also, hating Snape for being weird is SOO hypocritical. I mean, have you seen the other Harry Potter fans? Eughh.. I don’t even wanna think about the Tom Felton fans 🤢. That poor guy.

My point is that undermining a character is the least diverse thing you could do.

And the thing og blog said about Snape looking Jewish really adds to it. People really pick and take favorites. Leaving others to rot.

Hope you like this text. I might make a more proper argument in the future, its too darn late rn.

Marauders fans just be having double standards on the point they proud themselves the most on: Diversity

They be like "let's make James brown" (ik that it's in the whole fandom in general but ykwim) and reject the Jewish-looking guy

They be like "let's make Lily obese" and reject the underweight guy

They be like "let's make Regulus abused" and reject the canonically abused guy

They be like "let's make Regulus get groomed into joining the DEs" and reject the canonically groomed guy

They be like "let's make Barty's actions look right by saying it was for love" and reject the guy who did everything for the girl he loved (platonically or not)

Double standards, double standards everywhere.

Diversity only exists if Snape is not involved

[piastrisun]

warming up to love.

pairings: franco colapinto + fem reader.

summary: beneath the falling snow, the warmth of a shared moment transforms a casual connection into something unforgettable.

genre: fluff.⠀word count: 3.6k.⠀ warning: none.

notes: i love writing long stuff about franco cause we know he’s a very talkative guy and would pull a before sunrise any day. this kinda made me wanna fall in love.

“oh, the weather outside is frightful / but the fire is so delightful / and since we've no place to go / let it snow.”

the christmas party hums with a mellow energy as the night winds down. it’s a familiar scene—mutual friends scattered across the house, the remnants of shared laughter echoing softly. you hadn’t planned to come this year; after all, these gatherings had long been a minefield of awkward encounters and unspoken wounds. your ex, the one who shattered your heart last christmas, always seemed to be at these parties, and the thought of facing him again was enough to make you steer clear.

but tonight is different. encouraged by a friend who insisted it would be ‘good for you,’ you found yourself here, hovering on the edges, nursing a glass of mulled wine by the fireplace. franco is here, too—franco, who has always been little more than a polite nod or a quick ‘hi.’ the two of you aren’t close, not even friends, really. yet as the evening stretches on, you find his presence more noticeable than usual, his laughter drawing glances from across the room.

most of the guests have either slipped away to spare rooms or are scattered in half-asleep clusters, the laughter and music now a faint echo in the house. you sit near the fireplace, nursing a mug of mulled wine, its spicy warmth a small comfort against the chill outside. the flickering flames cast golden light over the room, and you sink into the soft cushions of the couch, grateful for the moment of solitude.

until franco joins you.

you hear him before you see him, the faint sound of his footsteps against the hardwood floor. all evening, he’s been the centre of attention—his jokes landing perfectly, his energy magnetic, his laughter infectious. but now, as he lowers himself onto the couch beside you, he’s different. his movements are slower, deliberate, as though he’s shedding the playful bravado for something more genuine. he leans back, draping one arm casually over the backrest, close enough for you to feel his presence without it pressing on you.

“you’ve been sitting here for a while,” he says, his voice quieter than you expect, his accent rolling over the words with a natural charm. “thinking deep holiday thoughts?”

you glance at him, arching a brow, already on guard. “oh, you know, debating whether santa’s elves have a decent union.”

a grin spreads across his face, quick and easy. “they don’t,” he replies, leaning slightly toward you, his dark eyes sparkling in the firelight. “you can see it in their eyes—overworked, underpaid, stuck making toys for kids who’ll forget about them in five minutes.”

the corners of your mouth lift before you can stop yourself, the response catching you off guard. “exactly,” you say, meeting his gaze for a beat longer than you intended. “and don’t even get me started on rudolph. classic case of workplace exploitation.”

his laugh is rich, low, and unrestrained, and for a moment, it drowns out the crackle of the fire. “you’re good,” he says, his grin lingering. “sharp. i like that.”

you shrug, trying to deflect the sudden focus on you. “it’s just common sense. someone has to advocate for the underappreciated holiday workforce.”

his grin widens, but there’s a shift in his expression—something more curious, more intent. “so, do you always deflect with humour,” he asks, tilting his head slightly, “or is it just my lucky night?”

your lips part slightly, caught off guard by the unexpected turn in the conversation. “and do you always psychoanalyse women at christmas parties?” you shoot back, the edge in your tone softened by the playful smile tugging at your lips.

“only the ones who seem like they have really good stories to tell,” he replies smoothly, his voice dipping lower.

you roll your eyes, though you feel the laugh bubbling up despite yourself. “you’re persistent, i’ll give you that.”

“i’m argentinian,” he says with a light shrug, as though that explains everything. “it’s genetic.”

the absurdity of the statement makes you laugh, this time unrestrained and genuine. you shift in your seat, tucking your legs beneath you as you hold your mug close, needing the warmth against your palms. he adjusts as well, leaning forward now, resting his elbows on his knees. his gaze is steady, direct, and disarmingly sincere.

“you’re good at this, you know,” he says, his tone softer now, almost conversational.

“at what?” you ask, the question slipping out before you can stop it.

“deflecting,” he says simply, his eyes searching yours. “you tell a joke, flash a smile, and everyone forgets to ask the real questions.”

you shift uncomfortably, your grip tightening around the mug. “maybe i just don’t like questions,” you say, the words coming out more defensive than you intended.

“or maybe you don’t like answers,” he counters, his voice steady but without judgment.

the weight of his words settles over you, and you find yourself looking away, your gaze fixed on the fire. the orange glow feels safer than the intensity in his eyes.

“you’ve been hurt before,” he says, breaking the silence.

“haven’t we all?” you reply quickly, your tone sharper now, a reflex to protect yourself.

“sure,” he agrees, his voice calm, unbothered by your resistance. “but not everyone builds walls like you do.”

your shoulders tense, and you draw back slightly, the heat of the fire no longer comforting. “you don’t know me well enough to say that,” you reply, your voice quieter now, but firm.

“not yet,” he says, the gentleness in his tone catching you off guard. “but i’d like to.”

the vulnerability in his voice chips away at your defences, and for a moment, you exhale, leaning back into the couch. you’re silent, but the tension in your posture eases.

“it’s not that simple,” you finally admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “people think you can just��� open up and everything will be fine. but when you’ve given your heart to someone who didn’t want it, it’s hard to trust anyone with it again.”

his dark eyes don’t waver, his gaze steady but soft, and he nods slowly. “i get that,” he says. “but maybe the trick isn’t trusting someone else first. maybe it’s trusting yourself—that you’ll survive it if things don’t go the way you hope.”

✩

the flickering firelight dances across his face, softening his features, and his expression is open, patient, unhurried.

“you’re different than i thought you’d be,” he says after a long pause, his voice dropping lower.

“what did you think i’d be like?” you ask, curious despite yourself.

“i don’t know,” he says, his lips curving into a faint smile. “polished, untouchable, the kind of person who always has the upper hand.”

“and now?” you press, leaning in slightly, the space between you shrinking.

“still intimidating,” he admits, his smile widening just enough to make your heart skip. “but in a good way.”

for the first time, you let the moment linger, the tension between you shifting into something unspoken but undeniable.

the fire casts a warm glow over the room, its crackling filling the quiet pauses between words. you laugh, shaking your head, the sound light but genuine. a comfortable silence stretches between you and franco, and in that quiet, you feel it—a subtle but undeniable pull. it’s unspoken, yet it lingers, drawing you closer to him in a way that feels both surprising and inevitable.

“you’re not what i expected, either,” you say, your tone casual, though the words carry weight.

franco leans forward slightly, curiosity sparking in his eyes. “oh? what did you expect?”

your lips curl into a teasing smile. “someone who tries too hard to be funny. but you’re just… effortlessly annoying.”

his laughter bursts out, rich and warm, and he clutches his chest dramatically. “effortlessly annoying? that might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

you shake your head, your smile widening despite yourself. you can feel your guard slipping, piece by piece, the edges softening with every laugh, every shared glance.

✩

as the night drifts on, the conversation flows like an easy current, touching on favourite movies, childhood christmas memories, and absurd holiday traditions. you trade stories that are ridiculous and endearing, the kind that make your sides ache from laughter. each word exchanged deepens the connection between you, weaving a thread of familiarity where there was none before.

he leans back, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “you know, this has to be the best christmas conversation i’ve ever had. no offence to santa and the elves.”

you raise your brow, feigning seriousness. “i’ll take it as a compliment. i don’t usually do this, you know.”

he tilts his head, curiosity dancing in his expression. “what? talk to effortlessly annoying guys?”

“no,” you reply with a soft laugh. “sit here, opening up to someone i just met. it’s… different.”

the teasing fades from his face as he leans in slightly, his voice dropping to something quieter, more intent. “different good or different bad?”

you meet his gaze, your heart beating a little faster at the intensity in his eyes. “good,” you say softly. “definitely good.”

the fire crackles softly in the background, the rhythmic pops and hisses filling the spaces between breaths. your laughter, which had moments ago echoed brightly, now fades into something quieter, something deeper. the silence between you isn’t awkward—it’s laced with a gentle understanding that neither of you has to name. you feel it—a warmth spreading through you, unfamiliar yet comforting, like an old song you’ve almost forgotten but still know by heart. it’s a feeling you haven’t let yourself embrace in years.

franco shifts slightly beside you, leaning forward as if to close the distance without intruding. his voice cuts through the quiet, warm and deliberate. “for the record,” he says, his lips curving into a faint, teasing smile, “you’re pretty good at this too.”

you glance at him, your brow lifting in subtle curiosity. “at what?”

his eyes linger on yours, the firelight flickering in their depths. he doesn’t hesitate, his tone softer now, almost confessional. “making me want to stay up all night talking to you.”

the words land heavier than you expect, and for a moment, your heart stumbles, a traitorous skip in its rhythm. you’re certain he notices, but for once, you don’t try to hide it.

your grip loosens slightly on your glass of wine, and you exhale, caught between disbelief and something dangerously close to hope. the vulnerability in his words disarms you, but it’s the sincerity in his gaze that keeps you still, like he’s waiting, patiently, to see if you’ll let him stay.

✩

you stand near the balcony door, the hum of the christmas party a soft murmur inside. outside, the chill air brushes your skin, the twinkling lights from the decorations contrasting with the warmth of the fire crackling in the corner. your glass of wine rests in your hand, swirling gently, the dark liquid catching the firelight. you find yourself momentarily lost in the way the flames dance, tracing their movement, letting the quiet settle over you.

franco is standing beside you, so close now that his knee almost brushes against yours, but neither of you says anything. it's the first time tonight that the two of you have actually been alone, outside the usual nods and polite greetings you’ve exchanged over the years.

after a beat, he breaks the silence, his voice low but steady, like he’s testing the air between you.

“you know,” he begins, glancing toward you but keeping his gaze just slightly above yours, “i used to think love was supposed to be this big, dramatic thing. like fireworks and grand gestures.”

you raise an eyebrow, the corners of your mouth curling into a smirk as you shift your weight, the wine glass still twirling in your hand. “let me guess—movies and cheesy romance novels ruined you?”

franco laughs, the sound soft but amused, and you can hear the humour in his voice when he responds. “hey, i’m a romantic. sue me.”

you chuckle, the ease of his words making you relax, but there’s something in his tone that lingers. the idea of love as a grand, sweeping event feels familiar, even if it's been a long time since you've believed in it. the pause between the two of you stretches a little longer, the silence pulling at the edges of your thoughts, and you finally turn to him, looking at him fully for the first time tonight.

“and now?” you ask quietly, your voice catching the reflection of the fire in his eyes. “what do you think it’s supposed to be?”

he looks at you, really looks at you this time, and there's something about the way he shifts, the way he leans slightly forward, that makes his words hit you harder than you expect. his eyes are steady, but his voice is softer now, more introspective.

“i think it’s quieter,” he says, his tone almost reverent, like he's sharing a truth he's only just realised. “more like… finding someone who makes you feel like you’re home, no matter where you are.”

the words settle heavily in the space between you. you blink, your breath momentarily stuck in your chest. there's something in his expression, something real and raw, and it pulls you in. you turn your body slightly towards him, the firelight flickering off his face, and you can feel the weight of his honesty pressing into your own guarded heart.

“that’s nice," you say, almost whispering, but a knot tightens in your throat. you shift your gaze, struggling to maintain the usual lightness, but it’s hard now. "but what if you’ve been hurt? what if 'home' feels more like a risk than a refuge?”

franco doesn’t hesitate. his elbows drop to his knees, the movement slow and deliberate. he leans in just slightly, his shoulders squared toward you, and the teasing edge that usually follows him is gone, replaced by something quieter, more vulnerable.

“then maybe you stop looking for a perfect home,” he responds, voice steady, each word measured. “maybe you find someone who’s willing to build it with you, one piece at a time. even if it’s messy.”

the simplicity of his answer leaves you breathless for a second. you swallow, feeling something shift within you, like a door cracking open just a little wider. his words hang in the air, and despite yourself, you can’t help but feel the weight of them settle into your chest. it’s a thought you’ve buried for a long time, and you feel a flicker of warmth in the cold air around you.

“you make it sound so simple,” you say, a soft laugh escaping you, though your voice is quieter now, more fragile.

his lips twitch into a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes right away. he glances at you, his gaze lingering before he answers. “it’s not. but i think the right person makes it worth the mess.”

you exhale, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly, though his words have left something unspoken between you. the weight of the conversation feels too heavy to hold onto for much longer, so you try to shift the mood. you take a deep breath and let the faintest hint of a smile curve your lips.

“okay, mr. romantic,” you tease, your voice a little lighter now. “what’s your other grand passion? what keeps you up at night?”

franco grins, the teasing spark returning to his eyes. “besides annoy people by fireplaces?”

you laugh, shaking your head at him, but there’s something different in the way you look at him now, something softer in your gaze. you catch the slight change in his expression, the way his eyes soften, even if only for a fraction of a second, as he watches you.

“i like cooking, actually,” he says, a genuine warmth to his voice. he leans back slightly, the tension leaving his shoulders as he talks. “there’s something about making a meal for someone—putting care into every detail, knowing it’s going to bring them joy.”

you raise an eyebrow, amusement creeping back into your features, but there’s a spark of curiosity now, too. “cooking, huh? sounds like an elaborate way to flirt.”

franco’s grin widens, and you notice the way his eyes twinkle with mischief. “absolutely. works every time.”

you lean back, finally allowing a full smile to spread across your face. it feels natural, comfortable, the awkward tension of the night slipping away with the shared laughter, but something lingers—a connection that wasn’t there before. the warmth of the fire and the quiet rhythm of your conversation are the only things that matter now.

you lean back, your body sinking slightly into the chair, the chill of the balcony air brushing against your skin. the soft hum of the christmas party drifts in from the room behind you, but here, the cold night air feels refreshing, clearing the noise in your head. your smile lingers, and you can’t help but feel a change in the air. the distance between you and franco now feels different—closer, more intimate.

“i like that,” you say, your voice calm but thoughtful. “the way you think about it, i mean. cooking for someone. it’s... intimate.”

franco shifts in his seat, leaning forward slightly, his gaze focused on you. “what about you?” he asks, his voice soft, genuinely curious. “what’s the thing that makes your heart beat a little faster?”

you hesitate for a moment, the chill in the air suddenly making you feel a little warmer under his gaze. his openness makes you feel safe enough to share, and without thinking, the words tumble out of you.

“i write,” you say, your voice quiet, almost wistful. “or i used to, before life got in the way. it’s like... the only time i’ve ever felt completely free.”

his expression softens, his gaze gentle as he watches you, and for a brief moment, the world around you seems to fade. he looks like he understands the weight of your words. "why’d you stop?” he asks, his voice low, quiet with concern.

you shrug, avoiding his gaze, not wanting to face the vulnerability in your own eyes. “fear, maybe,” you reply, the words hanging heavily between you. “that i wasn’t good enough. that it wasn’t practical.”

“fear’s a bad reason to stop doing something you love,”he responds, his tone firm but gentle, almost as though he’s speaking to himself as much as to you.

the silence lingers in the space between you, and the cool night air feels heavier, somehow more present. you feel the weight of his words settle in your chest, your breath catching slightly as you meet his gaze. the snow falls gently, glowing faintly in the moonlight. the world feels suspended, quiet, and for a moment, it’s just the two of you in this stillness, and nothing else matters. there’s a sincerity in his eyes that pulls you in deeper, something you can’t quite explain.

“you should writing again,” he adds, his voice softer now, almost like a quiet plea. “you’re too passionate to keep it all locked inside.”

you swallow, the idea of writing again making something stir in your chest. but you don’t let it show, instead trying to keep the mood light. “and you should stop psychoanalysing strangers at christmas parties,” you tease, a small smile tugging at your lips.

he grins, a playful glint in his eyes, but there’s a shift. his gaze softens, and the playful atmosphere between you both changes. “maybe i’ll make it my new year’s resolution,” he says with a teasing tone, but there’s something deeper in his voice now. “right after ‘kiss beautiful smart women by fireplaces.’”

you laugh, a warm, genuine sound that seems to break the tension between you. but when your eyes meet again, the air is different. the laughter fades, replaced by a quiet understanding that neither of you can ignore. there’s a pull, something magnetic. his smile fades into something deeper, and you feel it too—a tension you haven’t felt in years.

“can i?” his voice is soft, his eyes searching yours, and you feel a warmth spreading through you that makes your heart race.

you nod, your throat tight, unable to say anything. but your silence speaks volumes, and it’s enough. he gives you every opportunity to pull away, but you don’t. you stay, rooted to the spot, as his lips hover just inches from yours, your heart pounding in your chest as he inches closer.

the kiss comes softly at first, tentative, almost as though he’s testing the waters, unsure of the fragility of the moment. but then, something shifts. the warmth between you builds, and the kiss deepens, both of you leaning into it, the connection effortless. it’s like you’ve both been waiting for this, and now that it’s here, it feels as though nothing else matters—just the two of you, wrapped in the glow of the lights and the quiet of the night. you both lean into it, your bodies moving as if they’ve known how to do this all along. it feels natural, easy, like the conversation you’ve had all night.

when you finally pull back, you’re both breathless, your cheeks flushed with warmth. franco’s smile is softer now, more intimate, and it makes your heart flutter.

“you’re a hard one to read, you know that?” he says, a hint of amusement in his voice, though his eyes are still searching yours.

you shake your head, the smile lingering on your lips. “and you’re impossible to ignore.”

the soft crackle of the fire still echoes from the living room, and the snow falls gently on your coat, glowing faintly in the moonlight. but here, on the balcony, it’s just the two of you. for the first time in a year, you feel something stir within you—a piece of yourself that you thought was lost. and in that moment, you allow yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, you’ve found it again

©⠀piastrisun original work. please don’t translate, claim or repost any of my writing, 24’.

[acaciaavenue]

The Devils giving MC Christmas Gifts!

Gehenna Edition <3

Leraye

He's of course super excited to spend Christmas with you so get ready for him being even clingier than usual! He just can't keep his hands off of you like a dog begging to be pet. The day is full of activities! Christmas markets, baking cookies together, building snowdevils you can't catch a break. The gift you receive is wrapped horribly messy and he's extremely proud of his awful job but you can tell he tried his best. You can already feel that its something soft. Leraye is more excited than you when you finally open it. It's an adorable purple bunny plush with floppy ears and it's head still attached for once! "It looks just like you! Merry Christmas MC!"

Zagan

He's quiet as usual but seeks out small affectionate gestures like subtle touches and resting his head on your shoulder to let his long soft hair cascade down your back. You spend a cozy day cuddled up together under a fluffy blanket on the couch watching your favourite movies seasonal or not, all Zagan cares about is spending time with you. His gift for you is beautifuly wrapped with some decorative origami parts to it that make you hesitate to tear the wrapping open! Zagan watches your face the entire time to see your reaction when you open it. It's a painted canvas with the unmistakable carefully places brushstrokes of Zagans calm hands. A portrait of you! "It's not as beautiful as reality...Merry Christmas Mc"

Paimon

He gives you his gift right away, there is no waiting! It's important he says, you need to open it now come on come on MC!! He hands you a pink envelope covered in kitsch stickers and washi tape with the words 'My favourite girl' written in glitterpen in his cutesie neat handwriting and urges you to open it. It's a gift coupon for Gehennas fanciest beauty parlor! Paimon drags you there right away. You two get matching christmas themed manicures, your hair styled and your makeup done. He presses a kiss to your cheek to leave a shimmery lipstick mark there and tells you that wasn't all theres more! All dolled up you're taken on a shopping spree through the city. "I wanna show all of Gehenna how beautiful you aaaaare <3"

Astaroth

He takes you to see the Nutcracker at Gehennas theater, glancing over at you with a small smile every time there's romantic scenes. You're treated to christmas dinner after. He's all dressed up in suit and tie, his long dark hair in a ponytail and his purple tie chosen to match your purple dress. Even Apophis got a little purple ribbon on him. You keep telling Astaroth all day that he didn't have to do this much but he insists to treat his lady like the princess she is on a holiday like this! At the end of the day when you're sitting in your room together enjoying the time together he pulls out a neatly yet rather plain wrapped gift. it's a book! The synopsis on the back describes a romantic tale of a beautiful princesses love saving the dark heart of a black knight. "It reminded me of us, please read it to me tonight MC'

Belial

Christmas with him is quiet since Jiyu got the day off...lucky. But it's a comfortable silence you enjoy. Belial takes you ice skating and holds your hands the entire time so you don't fall, guiding you to twirl little circles like the two of you are slow dancing on the ice. Once you're back indoors he covers you in kisses to warm up your cold red face and you make hot chocolate together. He pulls out an envelope with a red bow around it and slides it toward you with a smile and a nod. It's sealed with a red heart sticker. You eagerly open it up! Belial holds your hand across the table you two are comfortably sitting at while you read it. It's a love poem! the most steamy yet sweet you've ever read. Oh he has such a way with words!

Amy

You two go out to a cute cafe for sweet seasonal hot drinks. You favourite silly over the top kind. After that you take a little detour through the snowy park, holding hands on the way home and spend the rest of the day together crafting little devil ornaments for the christmas tree. Amy showed you how! He's so skilled with those hands. You decorate it together, Amy picks you up by the waist gently so you can reach the tip of the tree to put a little red lump ornament ontop. When Amy finally gives you his gift he is stammering and blushing calling it nothing special. It's wrapped very neatly except for a small tear in the paper where he lost his cool with the tape It's a little doll of you he made himself! "You are the gift MC, Merry chirstmas"

Sitri

He has something special prepared for you in his Study. When you arrive there you're greeted by a wonderful smell of freshly baked cinnamon pastries and sweet butterfly pea tea. Sitri got his best teacups out on the coffeetable and is already pouring you a cup of tea before you even sat down. He insists you try every single one of the treats he baked for you. He took note of every time you seemed to enjoy something sweet particularly much through the year and everything he's prepared is one of your favourites. He feeds you and blushes when you compliment his baking! Sitri places a small box on the table infront of you and urges you to open it. It's a bracelet! A name bracelet...and it doesn't say Solomon. It says your actual name. "Merry christmas MC, i hope you never leave'

Satan

Satan is Satan even on a Holiday! You can already hear him outside before he even kicks your door open. He greets you all excited and wraps your scarf tighter so you don't get cold before he gets on his motorcycle and pets the seat behind him for you to join. He takes you on a joyride through snowy Gehenna. It would have probably been scary if it wasn't him driving. You feel safe with him even on the icy roads. He takes you to his favourite spot, high up in the hills on the outskirts of the city. You can see everything from here. All of Gehenna and all the lights. When he drops you off at home he takes off his leather jacket. One of his favourites he wears alot. He drapes it over your shoulders with a big grin. "So you always got something that reminds you of me incase you ever miss me MC"

[certifiedsexed]

hi sorry if you answered this already but i just wanted to know the answer to my silly little question

i'm trying to learn more about general sexuality and i see people saying 'asexuals still have sex and aromantics still have partners' and while the ace thing makes sense to me, i have a bit of a problem understanding the aro part. is the entire concept just not having romantic attraction? is it like a spectrum like asexuality?

sorry if this has been answered before or if the question is a little stupid ^^ Im just a little confused and dont wanna upset anyone

No, I haven't, good question!

While the basic definition of aromantic is usually "feeling low, varied and/or no romantic attraction", its a wide spectrum and everyone has different preferences, including on dating!

Some people have specific qualifications in order for them to experience romantic attraction, or experience it very rarely, but also, some people have partners even if they don't experience romantic attraction!

Whether that's in a queerplatonic sense or something else (for example, someone can have a partner[s] and not feel romantic attraction to them while their partner[s] do[es.] That's okay too!) is entirely up to the individuals involved.

I don't think this' a stupid question honestly, I think it's a very good one but regardless, I appreciate you trusting me to answer and I hope this helps!

Let me know if you have anymore questions, Anon. <3

[dilf-luvr-4evr]

Marry-Me-Salmon | Joel Miller x F!Reader

The amount of game Joel fics aren’t enough‼️ Taking matters into my own hands. Though I think they somewhat behave the same! I saw these recipes of “marry me salmon” going around and got inspired lol. Just tooth rotting fluff and a bit predictable but I just wanna see this man happy :(🩷

(Set in Jackson and Joel lives forever in MY blog ☝🏼)

Joel had bought a ring.

It was like his body moved on its own. When he laid his eyes on the thing, he thought there could possibly be no ring that could be more you.

That was a week ago. Why he bought it, he still doesn’t know. Well.. He knows exactly why. Just didn’t want to do it. Scared to do it. And this is coming from a man who isn’t scared of much.

You were arguably the best thing to ever walk into his life. Why you chose his hard-ass, he’ll never understand. After three years of you shutting him up and convincing him that you love him (you’d make him repeat it too), by default he’d say that yes, you do love him. But deep down, he still has a hard time believing it. He just knows that he’s very scared of losing you. And that he’s a goddamn lucky bastard.

So he decided, he doesn’t want to scare you off until he’s perfectly sure you wanted to be with him (yes, three whole years and he still isn’t sure). The ugly insecure monster within him thinks the day will never arrive. But in the comfortable silence that you two occasionally shared tangled with each other, he somehow had a feeling. Though fleeting, he did feel from the way you squeezed his hand, that you wanted this forever thing just as much as he did. So maybe — just maybe — your words did pierce through him. And he keeps the ring in his back pocket all the time just in case.

A week ago, you had overheard some ladies in the Square telling a story about how her husband of thirty-six years decided to propose to her because she cooked him the marry-me-salmon. You scoffed at the idea. There was no way it was that simple. Right?

Fast forward to present day, a salmon fillet was laid in front of you. You didn’t know how, you didn’t know why, but you managed to pull the strings. Although.. you know exactly why. Just didn’t wanna admit it. Shy to say it. Hence the salmon. You just wanted to cook Joel something nice. A lie you tell yourself.

The problem is, you don’t really cook. You learned to, yes, and occasionally do because of the situation of the world. But the marry-me-salmon intimidated you, the scribbled recipe mocking you from the counter. Were you too desperate? No use crying over spilled milk. Or in this case, killed salmon.

“What’s this I’m smelling?” You can hear the faint sound of Joel’s teasing as he made his way downstairs. You rolled your eyes, knowing he’d make fun of you attempting to cook. Before you know it, he was already behind you, trying to take a peek at what you’re making.

“Go away, it’s a surprise,” you quickly say, rushing to cover the recipe title. You would rather die than have him see that. He chuckled at your panicked reaction and raised his hands up in defeat.

“Alright, darlin’,” he grinned ear to ear, leaving a kiss on the top of your head before retreating to the dining table. “Just don’t burn down the kitchen,” he teased again. You clicked your tongue in annoyance though you can’t help but smile.

You messed up the recipe a bit. And it didn’t help that Joel kept looking up from the book that Ellie lent him to see what you’re cooking. You shouldn’t have said it was a surprise because you’ve got him awfully curious. At least it’s finally finished. You tried to plate it nicely, earning a few chuckles from Joel from how endearing you looked. It was lost on him why you had to be doing all this.

“And what did I do to deserve this?” He asked, cocking a brow at you when you put down the dish in front of him. He immediately closed his book, taking a whiff of the salmon.

“Just.. Cause I love you,” you smiled, taking a seat across him and propping your cheek on your palm. He chuckled again, warmth spreading in his chest. There was no way you cooked for him without any ulterior motive. If Joel learned anything from those three years with you, it is that you hate cooking unless you really have to.

But when you’re this beautiful, speaking to him so softly with that angelic smile? All for him? Joel chooses to believe you. He was a goddamn lucky bastard indeed.

“Well I love you too darlin’, thank you,” he says genuinely in that baritone voice of his. The sweetness of the moment didn’t last very long as he starts cutting the fish and you anxiously waited for his reaction. You just hope that the little mistake you made wasn’t very crucial to the dish. He eventually puts it in his mouth and started chewing.

“Well?” You ask, not even giving him a second. He hummed, taking a moment to process the taste. It was quite alright. He thought it could use more salt.

“S’good,” he nodded with a little smile. You knew damn well he was lying. And you knew that he would finish the whole thing anyway just because you made it. You wondered if the mistake you made had been that bad or if the lady at the square was full of shit.

“It’s bad, isn’t it?” You pouted, pulling the plate and taking a fork to taste it yourself.

“Darlin’, I said it was good,” he insisted, his brows knitted together. He’d tease you til his death but he’s so sweet when he needed to be. It made you feel really bad. You finally tried it yourself and none of you were exactly right. It was just.. Average. Okay. Edible. Just needed more salt. You felt silly for not giving it a taste test before serving it.

“I’ll fix it,” you say, abruptly standing up to look for the salt above the counter. It wasn’t there. You hurriedly searched the kitchen like a cop scanning for drugs.

“Darlin’,” Joel chuckled, standing with you. “Would you just sit down?” You didn’t listen, suddenly remembering that you ate breakfast in front of the TV and brought the salt with you. You were already running to the couch before Joel could stop you.

As he shakes his head with a loving smile, he sees it. The scribbled recipe on the counter. The marry-me-salmon.

He felt like the wind got knocked out of his lungs. This was it. You wanted to marry him. He quickly reached into his back pocket as if he was trained to do so upon hearing the information. His mind was screaming at him, now! Now! Now! Hell, did he even prepare a question?

You got back to the kitchen to find Joel on one knee. A ring between his thumb and his pointer finger. Funny enough, you thought it really was because of the salmon. In a way, it is kind of true. Are all salmons hexed with a marriage spell no matter how bad they taste? Doesn’t matter. Joel Miller, the love of your life, was finally proposing to you. You shakily exhaled as if you’ve been holding your breath for a while.

“Darlin’..” Joel began, his voice shaking. Though he didn’t really know what to say except for the desperation that he felt. The urgency to just be with you. “Please marry me?”

As tears formed in your eyes, still not believing what’s happening, you can’t help but ask him, “Is it because of the salmon?”

my masterlist

thank you for reading!! 🫶🏼

[arilevenatz]

Chasing Shadows - TEASER

Pairing: popular guy!yeosang x fem!reader

Genre: Angst (?), fluff

Word count: 582

Warnings: kinda frat boy yeosang, him and his friends are handsome (yes that's a warning), reader has anxiety, she is also insecure, anxiety attacks, yeo is cheeky, like really cheeky, you might wanna flick him a bit, bestfriend! San and wooyoung, there are prob gonna be more

AN: y'all bear with me this is my first time posting on Tumblr, I'm still figuring out stuff. I had a dream about this and I decided that I'm gonna write a yeo fic. And also if you wanna get tagged, you can give your @ in the comments I'll tag y'all. And also please reblog and like, so I can get more motivated!!

"stop mocking me. I know people like you. you guys go up to girls like me and say you like them only to say 'April fools' or say 'its a dare' later. I hate guys like you"

His grin fades, his expression turning serious, but his eyes still hold a glint of mischief. "You really think that's what I'm doing?" He tilts his head to the side, studying your face intently. He maintains eye contact, his expression unreadable. He sees the suspicion in your eyes, and it only seems to fuel his mischievous glint. He leans forward, his voice lowering. "Let me ask you something..." He studies your face intently, a slight smirk playing on his lips. "First off... do I look like I have a problem finding girls to talk to?" He gestures to himself, a hint of pride in his tone. "And second..." His voice drops lower as he deliberately maintains eye contact. "Second what?" You shout.

"No shouting in the library student!" The librarian warned you. You sit back down embarrassed and all red.

He leans in closer, and says "Second, would I really waste my time pretending to like someone just to play an April Fool's prank?" His words send a shiver down your spine as he pulls back, his eyes never leaving yours. "Or maybe..." He looks at you with a half-smirk, half-serious expression "You're actually quite... interesting. Not many people stand up to me like you do." His eyes crinkle again as he studies your reaction "And hey..." He reaches over and lightly taps your finger. You retreat your hand from his touch. His expression shifts to a playful pout, though his eyes still hold a glint of amusement "Wow, so I'm not even worthy of a tiny hand tap?" He leans back in his chair, studying your defensive posture with interest "You're not scared of me, are you?" He chuckles low in his throat, his gaze never leaving yours. "listen, can I not just like you? I like you. I want to be with you"

"No! people don't simply like girls like me" you felt like crying, but you can't. His expression turns mockingly serious, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Oh, so you're saying you're not likeable? You think I can't like you because you're... what?" He crosses his arms, leaning forward again, his curiosity piqued.

"You know what I am"

"No I don't"

"Fuck. Fine! Im fat and ugly"

His face freezes and for a moment, he looks genuinely shocked. But then, he lets out a harsh laugh. "Fat and ugly? He shakes his head, his gaze raking over your form appraisingly. "You really think that's what I see when I look at you?"

"You don't need to look at me like that, I am like that so fuck off I don't need you laughing at my face."

You stand up harshly, take your bag and walk outside the library. He follows you and grabs your upper arm, not harshly but firmly enough to hold your attention. "Listen carefully..." His voice softens, losing its usual mocking tone. "I'm not some creep who goes around lying to get in girls' pants." You open your mouth to say something but he quickly shits you off. "You know what I see when I look at you? I see someone who's honest, even if it hurts. I see someone who's strong, even when they feel weak. And I see someone who's fucking beautiful, inside and out."

[genderqueerdykes]

I really appreciate your support of endo systems as someone who is (maybe) pural and non-traumagenic. Its genuinely so lovely to hear, I've never gotten the people who say endo systems are bad. Brains do things strangely, and I adore my headmates. They are my people, even if most of them don't speak to me much. So thanks, I love my system, and how I am, its always good to hear someone stand up for, and support, myself and those I care about

hello!

i agree, i don't understand folks who say that endogenic, natural, spiritual and other non-traumagenic systems are bad. y'all are literally just existing. it comes across as virtue signalling, as if someone is trying to show how much they support dissociatives by doing something that harms all plurals. like, you can't prove or disprove whether or not another person is plural. there's no definitive way to tell whether or not that's what someone else is experiencing, why bother getting upset about it?

i'm glad you have your system, and that you love being who you are! you don't deserve to get shit on just because you're walking through life in the way that makes sense to you. its your life/lives, it's your choice/s to make. saying "there are multiple people living in my head with me" will not cause real damage to anyone or anything. that's up to you to figure out

you're welcome, as someone with DID, i just really do not like the concept of policing other people's brains. every plural with DID has a completely different experience than the person with DID next to them. every plural has a wildly unique experience because brains really can just do that. someone shouldn't have to be forced into viewing their plurality as inherently disordered in order to be seen as valid.

besides like, the reason other terms were created was to respect dissociative and traumagenic systems' needs and space like... that's why other terms were created. because people didn't wanna speak on experiences they don't know about. that's extremely respectful. if anything, i'd say that's a major indicator that most endogenic systems do not want to step on dissociatives' toes, and this is how people respond to their efforts to remain respectful. it needs to stop

[moregraceful]

Saw an old picture of Cooch playing wordle with the sharks equipment manager and I have got to ask. Is he a word games guy. Was he pulled into it or do you think he instigated. Does he have a NYT games account.

There is no reason you should know but I feel like your augury will be closer than anyone else I can think of (or at least more fun)

WELL. He had a book club during the pandemic so canonically he can read and loves to share literacy. And Wordle is a good game not just because it works your brain but also bc you have a limited number of chances before you legally have to go to idiot jail, which for a man as chronically depressed as Cooch, it does feel like he would enjoy the challenge. I bet he has an NYT game account. I bet bro loves the honey comb one.

This is giving me a perfect excuse to talk about one of my favorite articles from Corey Masisak's tenure with the Sharks: the Sharkies' lil nerd ass bookclub. You may have read this already bc you've been in these trenches but here are my favorite excerpts. There's a lot of Reimer in the article and while I don't care for the man or his politics, he does have some fascinating insight into why the Sharks are cringe nerds (so much travel time)

He likes to share books with guys on the team!! He's the team librarian!! Drop your book talk Cooch I wanna see something. It actually tracks because every librarian I've ever worked with was deeply and chronically mentally ill. This is why we need more mundane workplace aus that aren't coffeeshop aus.

in my sexiest imagine, Logan is an extremo depressed burnt out librarian and Thomas Bordeleau is the guy who has to do community service due to getting arrested for idk stealing a doctor's prescription pad and starting a black market estrogen prescription economy. And now he has to just, teach Bordy how to read so Bordy can pull holds. And its not making Logan less depressed.

Logan Couture 🤝 Bryce Harper: reading pulp novels so they can get away from the horrors of being an athlete. Wait let me cook. What if I was an athlete who read copaganda novels and you were an athlete who read hockey romance novels...and we never even met

The thing about John Grisham, Jimmy Pat, and Lee Child is that the people who checked out those books the most ofte at my library were like 80 year old women, who would read approximately 7-10 books a week. From this we can conclude Cooch is an old woman. Do you think he does the kinds of fiber arts crafts you have to learn from a book and not a Tiktok

This excerpt isn't about Cooch but I feel its critical knowledge: Pickles hasn't read a book in at least 3-4 years

The real bomb we're throwing here is if Pickles doesn't read books but does do the NYT crossword puzzle every day and has a streak. I mean maybe he's doing like, my first crossword puzzle for kids, but EYE like thinking about him seriously working on the Sunday crossword for an entire flight. I would say he completes it perfectly but he made fun of Nick Bonino's ereader and made Nick got mad as hell and EXPOSED him

Words are still words you're SO right king. It's not about the format or the length or the type of book you read. It's about reading . Because to read, to use your words, to engage in the action of imagination, education, storytelling and build, is to live. And I include nonfiction in that. And also audiobooks.

Also thank you for your kind words about my augury, that really made me smile 💙💙🦈🦈

[whisperofwonder]

The Best Medicine

Kageyama Tobio x reader - 1k words

Your daughter is sick. Kageyama stays home with her.

Reader is referred to as "mommy"

"She'll be fine," Tobio assures you. "I'll be here with her all day."

"I know," You sigh. Ever since you left work early yesterday to pick your daughter up from daycare, you've been fussing over her. It's just a fever and a cough, something that the doctor assured you will go away on its own with some medicine and time, but you can't help but worry just a little. It makes sense for Tobio to stay with her today - it's the off season, and he doesn't have any training scheduled. You're the one in the middle of a big project at work.

"I just gave her more medicine," You continue as you gather your things for work, "And it should keep her knocked out for a bit. The rest is good for her." You're saying it as much for yourself as for Tobio's benefit. He nods along anyway. "Just remember to have her eat a little something when she takes the next dose," You add as you pull on your coat.

"I will. Don't worry," He says more firmly, gripping your shoulders and looking you in the eye, forcing you to stop moving for just a moment. "We'll be just fine here. If anything comes up, I'll give you a call right away."

"Okay." You manage a smile. "Thanks, Tobio."

"Of course. I love you," He leans in for a peck before he releases you.

"I love you too," You reply on your way out the door, "I'll see you later."

With that, you're gone, and Tobio turns back into the quiet house. He doesn't have much lined up for the morning, he just starts a load of laundry and then settles on the couch with a replay of a recent match on the quietest setting. He takes a few notes every now and then.

Eventually, lunch time draws near. After heating up a quick meal for himself, he's slotting his few dishes in the dishwasher when he hears the call.

"Mommy!" Your daughter whimpers, and he closes the dishwasher, making his way to her room before she has a chance to call out again. It's just about time for her next round of medicine, anyway.

"Hi, baby," He says gently, brushing sweaty strands of hair away from her forehead. She's still warm, but the fever has definitely gone down.

"Want Mommy," She insists, her lower lip jutting out in a pout.

"Mommy's at work," He reminds her. You'd said goodbye to her this morning right before you left. "She'll be home later." She doesn't look pleased, but she doesn't say another word. "Are you a little hungry?" He asks, changing the subject.

"No," She shakes her head.

"Not even for some applesauce?" He asks as he gently tugs the blanket off of her. "It will help the medicine make you all better."

She hesitates for a moment. "Kay," She agrees quietly. He picks her up, carrying her to the kitchen. If she weren't sick, she would have scrambled out of bed and darted down the hallway on her own. It's clear she's still not feeling like herself.

After the snack of applesauce and dose of medicine, he lifts her to his hip again, prepared to tuck her back in bed. Her eyes are already drooping. In her room, he moves to lay her back down on the pillow, but she clings to his neck.

"No, Daddy," She whimpers into his chest.

"I'll read you a story," He suggests, settling down on the edge of the bed with her still in his arms.

"Don't wanna story." She shakes her head, scrubbing a fist at her eye. "Wanna watch TV."

He sighs and softens. "Okay," He agrees. In the living room, he puts on one of her favorite shows. He moves to set her down on the couch, but she clings to him again.

"No," She shakes her head.

"No?" He echoes, then settles her on his lap. "Alright." If she wants to stay close to him so badly, how can he say no to that? She leans against him, soft and warm in his arms, entranced by the colorful animations on the screen and clutching her bunny.

The older she gets, the less interested she has become in sitting still and cuddling. It seems she's always on the move, running around and playing. It isn't often that he gets to just hold her like this.

His eyes wander from the screen down to her, eyes drooping again as she slips her thumb in her mouth. Just this once, he decides to let it slide. She's getting so big. Sometimes he doesn't even realize how quickly. Soon enough she'll be off to school, maybe joining sports or the band, spending time with all of the new friends she'll make. She won't be his little girl who fits in his arms like this forever - he should savor this moment.

Time blurs by as he holds her, half-paying attention to the show as one short episode turns to another, half-dozing himself. He doesn't even realize how long it's been until he hears the door open.

"I'm home!" You say as you step inside. It isn't long before you find them in the living room, your daughter cradled against Tobio's chest. He smiles at you, and your daughter stirs against him, woken by the slight commotion.

"Hi my love," You coo at her, "How are you feeling?" She only hums in response, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "Why don't we let Daddy get up?" You ask, reaching for her.

"Hm-mm," She shakes her head, snaking her arms around his neck again and burying her face against him. You look at him with wide, surprised eyes, and he can only return the expression. Earlier, she'd pouted because you weren't there. He's just as taken aback.

"Well," Your expression softens as you whisper, "I guess you had a good day with Daddy then." You lean in to kiss him, and he returns it. "How long have you been sitting here?" You ask.

"A few hours," He estimates, "But I don't mind." He presses a kiss to the top of her head. "She'll be begging for you before you know it," He predicts, and you shake your head with a smile. You both know he's right. For now, if snuggles with Daddy are what she wants, how can you deny her?

[minnlahzz]

Silver Relationship Headcanons.

requested.

yo! this is apart of a very biiig request that I've procrastinated with for a long time. I think this is the time I can write, since it's my break. trying to get the hang of things is hard, please bare with me! I don't have ANY of my old themes aside from the divider and pictures, sooooo it may look unaesthetic/horrifying until I decide to fix something. even if they didn't request this, this is also gift to @amethiosspouse !!

— NOTE LOWERCASE INTENDED.

silver is… complicated. some people might think he’s cold and distant, but he’s really just guarded and doesn’t know how to express himself. he’s not the type to be overly affectionate, but his loyalty runs deep. if he’s with you, he means it. silver wouldn't just date anybody because of hersays or looks, he'd have to KNOW and like somebody forrealsies.

he'd most likely be with a person who is patient, but not a pushover. silver respects strength and independence, but he doesn’t want someone who’ll bulldoze over his opinions either. he values emotional maturity—he needs someone who can handle his quiet moments without taking them personally. sometimes he just needs some peace and quiet.

silver's love language is quality time, he has a soft spot for quiet moments together. just sitting in silence, watching the stars or listening to the sounds of the forest, is his idea of quality time.

sneasel is always around. it’s like glue. like its trainer sneasel doesn’t trust people easily, so earning its approval is a big deal. once you do, though, it’ll start bringing you random “gifts” (like berries or shiny rocks).

but just because you're dating him doesn't mean it's all sunshine and rainbows, like I said silver is complicated. be patient with him, and understand him for who he is! there are many pros and cons when dating this tomato.

there are many pros he has, silver is mature and that's what makes him a good partner.

he’s fiercely protective. silver might not always say the right thing, but his actions speak volumes. if you’re in trouble, he’ll be there, no questions asked. you've got your own batman.

he’s surprisingly thoughtful. he remembers little details about you, like your favorite food or your favorite ice cream flavor. it’s his way of showing he cares. silver is attentive, he listens to people even when it looks like he isn't. he'd listen to your complaints and responds to it with clear answers.

silver will always help you, if you're a trainer he'll tell you tips you've never heard of. if you wanna battle, you've got yourself one!

there's never a perfect character, silver has alot of cons and things to consider. he's still his own person, and sometimes there are things you can't control.

silver struggles with vulnerability. it’s hard for him to open up, and sometimes it feels like he’s keeping you at arm’s length. no matter how close you guys are, there will always be something he will keep private.

it takes him a long time to truly trust someone, and even when he does, there’s a part of him that’s always prepared for betrayal. this can lead to moments where he questions your intentions, even if you’ve done nothing wrong.

when things get tough, silver’s instinct is to deal with it alone. he doesn’t mean to shut you out, but it can leave you feeling like you’re not part of his life during the moments that matter most.

his intensity can be intimidating. he doesn’t mean to come off as harsh, but he’s not great at softening his words.

-

over all 7/10 he’s loyal, protective, and will stick by you through thick and thin, but his emotional unavailability and trust issues make the relationship a lot of work. if you’re patient and willing to deal with this, he’s worth it—but don’t expect a fairy-tale romance. expect a cynthia champion battle difficulty romance... do you get it? (probably not)

[lieut-dundy-le-vesconte]

>he'll take him back into his arms, squeezing tight, rubbing his back Heyyy heyyy shhh its ok John it's ok >part of him loves being needed, loves the attention. But it's not that, it's that he has so so so much respect for John. So much. He... he pulls back again. Looks him in the eyes again. He needs him to see him when he says this, all the thoughts that have just passed through his head. John has to hear them. Dundy shouldn't be keeping them to himself; the man needs to know

Look, John. Here's how it goes. >he runs his thumbs over his cheeks, wiping away the tears, then sighs. He hates being vulnerable like this, but John needs to hear this. He has the feeling he's the kind to tear himself apart. And he doesn't want to lose another good man. They're one in a million. You... hm. You... you heard me out. You didn't deny me for my... for my honesty. You... you t-took me in and-and... lay your love down over my shoulders, despite...despite the v-vast gap of differences between us, besides any of those... those prejudices you may have been raised with. I know... I know how hard that is. To-to lay aside those differences for one stupid fuck like me... but you did. You did even if you didn't have to. And ... and that means... a lot. To me. Coz im just... >he shrugs a stupid lost puppy. A broken war dog... n yet you saw something in me... ugh. You saw something in me w-worth loving >he's tearing up. He'll run the back of his hand over his eyes n... n I wanna give it ... back to you. To.. to pay you in kind... I'll... I'll never ever be able to love as purely as you do, but ... but at least I can love you

>it's true. He can love him. He can always make more room for those that really truly matter. For those that... that don't abandon him

Sir, I am so sorry that these uncouth sailors have been hounding you. How about we sit together in the library with some tea, biscuits, and books? I don't want to force you into company, but I don't think you should be alone right now.

A friend,

@ej-helpman

Mr. Helpman? I... think I might need that, yes.

Please.

Please don't let me be alone.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

you open my Super Important Documents and its just pictures of charles xavier