#*cries and hugs all of you*

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

huh-

when did that happen

[hinamie]

mentor

[syea-say]

The finale of a never-ending masquerade.

AQ 4.2 spoilers.

[aristhought]

i hope everyone who i have ever seen crying in public knows that i never judged or thought less of them and that i always hoped they were going to be okay

[jadewritesficshere]

Grey

Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Synopsis: Steve gets a wake up call from yall's daughter

Contents: talks of aging, kids being kids, references to smut but nothing explicit

Steve groans as his consciousness comes to. Something is hitting his face. Someone. Repeatedly.

Steve squints his bleary eyes open as a hand smacks him in the jaw again. A small smile appears on his face even though his jaw stings from the impact. "Morning," Steve's voice is still thick with sleep as he turns to look into brown eyes barely peeking over the edge of the bed.

A quiet voice repeats back ,"Morning," to Steve before arms reach up over the edge of the bed to try and grasp something. Small hands grab the blanket and tug it off of him slightly as the child attempts to climb up. At two and half, Amelia Joy Harrington can barely see above the edge of her parents' bed, let alone get on it.

Steve hoists Amelia up and sits her on his stomach. Steve winces as Amelia scrambles, a stray foot hitting his thigh precariously close to his crotch. Arms are thrown around his neck in a hug as Amelia lays her head against her dad's chest.

Steve feels like his heart could burst out of his chest from the joy he is feeling. A hug from his baby? The best way to wake up in the morning. Who cares if his jaw is still stinging and probably red, his little girl loves him.

Steve sighs in contentment. Steve holds his daughter close until she starts to fidget and wiggle. Amelia sits up and throws her hands in the air. "Happy Birthday!" She whispers excitedly, except she has no concept of how quiet a whisper should actually be and says it in a much too loud voice.

"What?" Steve asks, hand hovering near Amelia's side in case she slips. Amelia's eyebrows furrow as she pouts at him, a look that is an exact copy of you. Her arms slowly lower as she stares at Steve. "Happy Birthday. You old." Amelia pouts at him.

Steve blinks at Amelia in confusion but nods his head. First off, rude, he isn't that old. Steve isn't sure where she gets her unfiltered, blunt commentary (it absolutely isn't him). Second, it absolutely isn't his birthday. Not even close.

"Why uh...why is it my birthday?" Steve asks, unsure if Amelia fully understands the concept. Not sure if he can explain the idea of a birthday to a two (and a half) year old. "Grey." Amelia declares giving Steve whiplash. Before Steve can speak, Amelia points at the comforter," Blue." Steve smiles," Yes, blue."

Amelia points to her shirt," Green." Steve nods. Amelia taps under Steve's eye, lashes brushing against her finger causing him to close it. Steve hopes she doesn't attempt to actually poke his eye.

"Brown." Amelia declares. "Thats right." Steve grins, his girl is so smart. Amelia points to his temple," Grey." "That's ri- what?! No!" Steve's mouth drops open as Amelia giggles. "Uncle Dustbin says grey is old. Birthday makes old. Happy Birthday!"

The creak of the loose floorboard in the hall notifies Steve of your approach. You peek into the doorway of the room, seeing your two favorite people. One looking aghast and the other giggling at her father's reaction.

"What's going on in here?" You ask, leaning against the doorway. "Grey. Birthday." Amelia announces, like it explains everything. And it does in her little mind.

You hum in response, looking at your husband who seems lost for words. Amelia slides off of Steve and off the bed, Steve guiding her so her feet land on the ground absent-mindedly. He would never let her fall or get hurt. Or you.

Amelia half walks half dances in your direction. A prance in her step, she stops in front of you and grabs your hands. "It's daddy's birthday," She says before headbutting your leg. You chuckle and pat her head as she dances out of the room, in her own little world.

"You lying to my kid again?" You ask once Amelia is gone. Steve sputters as he sits up," I did not- our kid- did not lie." "Uh-huh, sure," you say sarcastically. Steve rolls his eyes at you as he gets up out of bed.

Steve stretches as he rocks on his feet, back cracking, before strolling over to you. "Good morning," Steve mumbles, hand landing on your hip. You hum back as he leans in and kisses you. Soft. Slow. Sweet. Leaving you longing for more as he pulls back.

"Love you," Steve says, fingers running along the waistband of your pants. "I love you too," you want to melt into him. Curl up in his arms and stay in this moment. Let the love and adoration fill the air around you.

"Do I look old?" Steve is the first to break the silence. Your brow furrows in confusion," huh?" "Amelia she," Steve huffs out a laugh," said I have grey hair." You chuckle as you bring a hand up, fingers threading through his hair," You have some but its nice." "Its nice huh?" "Makes you look distinguished. Handsome." You bite your lip and look up at him.

Steve knows that look. Knows it well. It's the look you gave him the first time you moved past just making out. The same look you gave him on your first anniversary. The same look you wore on your wedding night. The same look you gave before Amelia was conceived.

Steve can't help the smirk that spreads across his face. If getting old gives him that look, well, he won't complain.

"What about me?" You ask, batting your lashes. "Beautiful," Steve kisses your cheek," Gorgeous," he kisses the corner of your lips. He continues to alternate between kissing all over your face and praising you.

"My love," Steve whispers before kissing you softly on the lips. You sigh into the kiss, one hand tangling in his hair, the other trying to pull him closer.

A loud crash from the living room has you two pulling back from the sweet moment you stole. "What was that?" You call down the hall. "Nothing!" Amelia yells back, making you sigh but smile. Steve can't help but grin too. His life was a little hectic dealing with a rambunctious child, but he wouldn't trade it for the world. And he thinks, if life is like this, he can manage getting old with you. He wouldn't want it any other way.

[thorough-witness-enjoyer]

The Witness and Why It (and its demise) Means Everything to Me (A POC Perspective)

Hey everyone!! The Final Shape has ruined me and has brought me to levels of not only grief, but hope, that I did not think possible, so I decided to give my thoughts on the different aspects of it that moved me to a place where I can be at peace with many things in my life and look forward to paving a better future!!! I think I’ll be making many posts pertaining to the Final Shape as a way to help me express my thoughts on how important this DLC was to me, but we will see!

Please note that these are just my loose, not fully structured thoughts and I’m yapping. My opinions are subject to change and I’d love to hear the input of others! We will be talking about subjects such as slavery, religion, black experiences, and personal experiences of mine!!! It’s very long too, so I’m sorry about that and any writing errors!!

Though I do not believe what I speak of was fully Bungie’s intentions when making the character, the implications and views you can take on the Witness do relate to what I will discuss.

I wanted to start off my return to tumblr with one of the many, many reasons why I have such a deep attachment to the Witness (Precursors and Dissenters will get a different post bc they mean the world to me too!!) , because truly, this entity owns my whole life. I think of it all the time, it lingers in my thoughts, my art, my writing, all of it. It has been so deeply intertwined with my enjoyment of Destiny since it appeared and has offered so much to my perception of the world. I do not think I will truly get over it and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t draw it every chance I get. It appears in every single thought of mine, it’s bad you guys.

I love the Witness so deeply because I have never harbored such a personal level of DISGUST for a character before. As much as I joke about it being silly and the love of my life, the very existence of the Witness revolts me to the core and the tragedies it has directly or indirectly caused squeeze my heart empty. This festering rot of an egregore SICKENS me as it is the beliefs that has robbed me and many others of family, culture, and livelihoods given form. My love for the Witness comes from how it instills in me such HATRED, and truly, we were far too kind to it in game.

For context, I am Caribbean American and have a tumultuous relationship with my heritage for many reasons, but it wasn’t until the Witness and its many victims that I felt like the religious imperialism that has affected my heritage was represented in a way that crept into my spirit.

My Caribbean mother always said to me that we are of this world, not in it. That the hearts of men are wicked and sin (cruelty) was embedded in existence itself. It is only when we give ourselves to a higher purpose that we will be free in the end from all suffering. To her, this life and everything in it did not truly matter for it was a temporary challenge to overcome in order to earn an eternity of salvation. A perfect paradise was awaiting us all if we just gave into the way and left everything else behind.

These were all convictions she held to her very core as she tried to shed away all other aspects of herself to give into this “truth”, especially her Caribbean culture.

She did not always believe this way, but to her, the island she came from did not truly matter at all. Those “wayward people” she grew up with were not worth anything and would die as nobodies on that nowhere island for their lives were not saved, even if they knew of the “truth”. In her adopted views, those people believed in false gods and practices (such as Vodou and beliefs that belonged to those taken from Africa and indigenous populations), they invited in frivolous wants of the flesh such as lust (with „improper“ attire and certain dances), and committed crimes that proved to her that they could never be anything more than what they already were (though she would be blinded to the fact that these behaviors are a result of hostile environments created by the systems established for slavery and racial subjugation). If she wanted to be fit for “walking the right path”, those people had to be left behind for they were lost causes who could not be saved unless they were delivered by the “respectable” ways of life. She had to discard her black mannerisms, hair, speech, and more to have a place amongst the truly chosen.

Religious imperialism has a long history of being heavily tied to discussions of race and colonialism as those who participated in subjugation believed themselves to be more enlightened than the people they brought devastation to, giving them an entitlement that drove them to force their way of viewing religion onto populations. After all, in their minds, they were doing the greatest good for they were setting the people they subjugated on a path for eternal paradise. There was no cost too high in this finite life for infinite salvation to colonizers and all efforts to convert populations who did not see this truth would be “necessary”. People would die or be forced into servitude in mass to support the ambitions of the “enlightened” ones, whole cultures and populations being scrubbed from the face of this Earth in an attempt to “heal what is sick”, to “break broken bones again to heal them right”. I think of all the generations lost to war, slavery, colonialism, and every other act done to deliver “purpose” onto others, all the people whose names will never be known because others used the breath needed to utter it on preaching of their own virtue, and I am left in ruin.

I think of how my mother speaks of those lost to destitute lives because of the social pillaging of the island as an unfortunate side effect of guiding them to the truth and I look at how her world view has been ruined.

My mother thought she was saving me by keeping me from my culture, my people, my family. I did not get to know the language, the customs, the land, but I did get to know how much my mother thought those were distractions. She spent my whole life trying to cement the truths given to her by the same people who left her island in such as state that she felt like she had to run from it, to ensure I would not grow into a person, but a vessel of the righteous message. After all, to be a person is to be complex, nuanced, and flawed and there was no room for that in the visions given to her. The complexities and human flaws that came with our culture would only distract us from giving our whole lives to freeing ourselves from the curse of existence.

The cruelty the Witness delivers with such gentleness as it razes civilizations, its unwavering belief that it is the objective truth and other perspectives are blind to this truth, the means it will use to get that “justified” end, its gut wrenching to me and all that has been lost throughout human history to ideologies that bear the same qualities. Its zealous, static nature that relies on circular reasoning keeps me up at night and makes me mourn what could have been if the unfamiliar and hard to understand parts of human expression were allowed to flourish instead of being eradicated for diverging from someone’s vision of what makes a life worth living. I see this big eyed vessel, incapable of growth and convinced of its own righteousness and my chest feels like it is going to cave in. I see its disciples and pawns in the faces of too many people I know and recall their stories in moments that remind me how poisonous what the Witness represents is.

The Witness is an evil that has hollowed out lives, homes, land, and futures, especially for those who come from heritages that have persevered against attempts to “rectify” them. I still grieve the empty life my mother lives and the people left to suffer the consequences of daring to create their own meaning. I look at the face of the Witness and think of the “burdens lifted off my mother’s shoulders” by those who thought themselves as witnesses of a truth that could not be contested with interpretations that could not be questioned. She prides herself on being a weapon wielded to correct the sinful hearts of men, but I just wish she prided herself on being a person because those who “delivered” her robbed people of color of personhood entirely.

The Witness is not a person, but the embodiment of these deeply rooted ideologies and concepts that affect so many. It’s horror, both in game and the parallels it has in reality, is far too grand and unfathomable for me to bear its weight on my soul and not agonize. Its very existence is monstrous, despite the understandable intentions that went into its making, and my stomach churns at the mere thought of it.

How many species in the Destiny universe will we never know about because their whole galaxy was used to get closer to the Final Shape? How many star systems were left barren because of the Witness’ ambitions? How many children, spouses, artists, philosophers, siblings, neighbors, and more, people who were something, became nothing because of eons of the Witness‘ justifications? Bile boils just thinking of it.

What the Witness represents has hung over my head my whole life and its perverse touch lingers on the whole Destiny universe, tracing many of the depraved atrocities in the game back to itself. It’s death in the Final Shape, at the hands of those it had turned into victims and left to deal with the repercussions of its influence united together, moved me in ways I do not think I could ever properly articulate. To see beloved characters I had given a decade of my life to come together from different backgrounds with different reasons to defeat such a heinous entity, I felt like I could do my part to bring others together, despite our struggles and differences, to rebuild what had been taken from us.

As a person of color from a group of people many still think are undeserving of life, seeing so many characters I have related to over the years say “I matter because I decided to and you can’t take that away from me” to an entity who thought itself so refined that it got to determine everyone’s worth strengthened my entire being. Existing as a person of color is bold in and of itself, but the defeat of the Witness at the hands of people who wanted to exist so bad they risked everything for it ignited in me a flame to be audacious. My existence and culture as a poc is unsightly and heretical, but TFS encouraged me to take on the prejudices of others by saying “Here, despite generations being molded into a “perfect” image and so many lives lost in the struggle to live personal truths, ergo sum. Ergo sum and there is nothing wrong with that”.

To me, the Witness’ death showed me that the stains left behind by social structures such as religious imperialism and colonialism can be overcome by people banding together to make the future different from the past. When we embrace the subjectivity of existence, we can create spaces for different views on life to flourish and reconnect with the nuances of this world. We can better the lives of our people, no matter who they are, not by abandoning all cultural practices and ways of life that were deemed meaningless, but by rebuilding our societies to allow for fulfilling lives and self efficacy for all.

My people no longer have to let imperial powers decide our fate for us or decide that we can be nothing other than the „nature of our race“ that they believe is inferior. Instead of looking up at others who asserted themselves as more enlightened for salvation, we can look at each other and realize there is no one truth to life, especially one worth all the devastation and cruelty placed against those who lived differently. The intricacies of life often lead people to belief systems that allow for comfort and understanding, alleviating the anxiety of possibly living an improper life that will forfeit a desirable afterlife. It is up to individuals to decide what makes their life fulfilling and what beliefs will guide their actions, for no one can make your fate but you.

My mother still likes to wear the patterns of the island and keeps paintings of island scenery in her room. She talks on the phone in patois when she doesn’t feel the pressure to be “proper”. She misses her mother because she used to make dishes from home. To relate it to Destiny, she still has the coordinates to her Lubrae in her pyramid despite convincing herself abandoning it all was for the best and there was nothing there worth keeping. I once thought reconnecting with our heritage alongside her would be a frivolous endeavor, but I hope that with time and understanding, the Witness may not have power over her anymore and she won’t look back on her disassociation with relief. Time and understanding will make our island grow and flourish, free to decide what it wants to be, not held back by preconceived notions of the worth of its existence.

Despite all the Witnesses in the world, I will persist on and try to acquaint myself with my culture without shame. The Witness is everything to me because I hope one day it desecrates nothing ever again. I hope the Witness becomes nothing at all and the cultures it has corrupted make themselves something audacious.

Thank you guys so much for reading!! I hope you guys don’t mind the vague language, I chose to spare some details for my own sake and to make the message more applicable!! I’d love to hear the takes of other people about this bc I love hearing people’s perspectives!! And always remember, no one makes your fate but you!!! Go be audacious!!!!

[leviraaaaaa]

We won.

[fantasticgothicpeachsludge]

There’s no way Jayce came out of the fucking Infection Dimension perfectly healthy except for his leg (and his mental health)

He had an open wound on his back before he even went in!! and then the one we saw on his leg! (which was broken in fucking half!!) like did y’all see how thick the fog was?? He was breathing that shit in for months!! That man was probably dying!!!

[sunflawyer]

HIIIIIII EVERYONE IM BACK ... !!!!

im feeling better now!!! 💕💕 almost two days of being sick felt like years 😿 i probably missed a bunch of things already hhuhhgggh I MISS YOU ALL HOW ARE YOUUU!!!

im still coughing and sneezing but it wasn't as bad as yesterday... yesterday was soo awful.... tears in my eyes....

i miss everyone.. waves enthusiastically at you..

[sanshinexx]

I just finished reading the Kazekage Rescue Mission arc, and... I mean, what else was I supposed to do after witnessing all that??

[awesomeferret10]

Don’t think about the period between “Food Battle 2023” and “My Dead Friend”

Don’t think about how Sketch!Ian and Sketch!Anthony have been roommates since 2008 (with a brief period from 2016-2023 where Ian thought he was living with a wife not a best friend) and are always with each other.

Don’t think about how normal it is after a food battle for whoever died to get up and carry on with their normal lives the next day.

Don’t think about Sketch!Ian bringing Sketch!Anthonys body home after the ol’ scissoroo and waiting for him to wake up the next morning so they can go back to their usual nonsense

Don’t think about Sketch!Anthony not getting up the next morning.

Or the next.

Or the next.

Or the next.

Don’t think about the 14 days that passed between “Food Battle 2023” and “My Dead Friend”.

Don’t think about how much Sketch!Ian wants his best friend back.

Don’t think about Sketch!Ian sobbing at every little reminder that “Anthony isn’t back yet, 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘪𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬.”

Don’t think about Sketch!Ian desperately trying to date and move on.

Don’t think about Sketch!Ian getting more and more desperate until he goes onto the dark web, and pours all his time into reanimating Sketch!Anthony.

Don’t think about Sketch!Ian getting increasingly more panicked as Sketch!Anthony’s body begins to decay.

Don’t think about Sketch!Ian finally having to let go of Sketch!Anthonys body (either in the canonical nuclear explosion or if you’re being angsty about it sobbing, burying him as he’s finally too decayed to puppet, too rotted to pretend he’s still alive).

Don’t think about Sketch!Ian being so upset and setting up a small memorial in what was once their shared house.

Don’t think about Sketch!Ian being so depressed that his friends notice and begin setting him up with people to take his mind off it.

Don’t think about Sketch!Ian paying his neighbor off and willingly spreading the rumor that he shit himself to all his friends so that he can put his undivided attention on grieving Sketch!Anthony. On mourning his best friend, and the guilt that comes with the fact he killed him.

Don’t think about how the next time we see Sketch!Anthony is March 1st.

Don’t think about how that’s more than 3 months after he died.

Don’t think about how we have no idea when he came back.

Don’t think about how long Ian might have been grieving for.

𝐃𝐎 think about how when his roommate and best friend died all Sketch!Ians friends began setting him up on dates. Think about how that implies his friends think they’re an item, or life partners, or something of the sort. Think so god damn hard about how in Sketch!Ian’s friend’s minds a girlfriend is a replacement to Sketch!Anthony. Think about what everyone around them assumes they are. Think about how reasonable that assumption is when two 36 year old financially stable men are still roommates and have been since they were 21. Think about how in love Sketch!Ian and Sketch!Anthony are with each other whether in a gay way or not.

[skitskatdacat63]

2023 Dutch Grand Prix - Fernando Alonso(ft. Max Verstappen & Pierre Gasly)

[xayspancakeee]

lightseeker - galactic pulse

we must always point in the same direction.

[glitchmel]

Ohhh man I am feeling it today

It's the last day of 2024 and I just want to say thank you to everyone, all of my family, friends/moots, acquaintances, followers, anyone who has liked my posts, etc

This year has been really difficult and I don't think I would be so happy without you guys, and I really really appreciate everything, more than you could know.

I want to give a special thank you to my biggest inspirations, @bluepr1ntyy, @problems-exe, @yeloenk, @shynetyme06, @t3m1, and my discord friends, you guys are seriously the best and have inspired me so much. It's so crazy to me that I know you guys because I feel like you are all so much cooler than me and you give me so much inspiration and bring me happiness with your posts <3

I hope 2025 can be an amazing year too and I am so excited to spend it with you guys!!

-Mel ❤️

[sanhwaism]

i just read MEET UP FOR A COFFEE AND A SMILE and AAAA ITS SO GOOD !!! can i 🤭 mayhaps request san x gn!reader who feels rlly bad about their body or just has confidence/low self esteem issues and san does his best to listen whilst also reassuring his partner that they’re a beautiful person?

thank you so much 💌 i love your writing !!

한슴 (BREATHE) | C.S

pairing ⟡ bf .ᐟ choi san x gn .ᐟ reader

synopsis ⟡ feeling down because of so many insecurities, all you want is to be swallowed by a black hole and never perceived again. slowly, but surely you understand that you don't have to deal with these worries alone, but instead let your lover prove to you how worthy of love you are.

genre ⟡ established relationship, hurt/comfort, romance, a sprinkle of angst??? at the beginning, fluff!

warnings ⟡ reader is emotionally struggling; a bit of self hatred and some venting; mentions of a lost appetite and san touching body parts (arms, stomach, legs, etc); pet names; tears inducing! (idk about you but i! sobbed! writing this!)

wc ⟡ 2.8k

author's note ⟡ my first ever request :,) and it's so comforting :,) thank you so much for motivating me to write this one shot @megumisthv sobs ㅠㅠ it means the world to me knowing you love my writing <3 anyone reading this, a gentle reminder that you are not alone and are so beautiful inside and out. i love you.

"jagiyaaaaaa, i'm home!" you barely hear the familiar, comforting voice of your boyfriend coming from the hallway. in a panicked state, you try to wipe away the tears as quickly as you can and get yourself up off the floor. your legs are slightly trembling and your hearing feels muffled. you can't recall for how long you have been crying all by yourself, engulfed by the darkness and coldness of the bedroom. bedroom that you and san share, and which feels warm only when he is around, when he paints the four walls with his delightful laughter, his heavenly voice or just his pure presence, when you're safe and sound in his embrace. there are no worries, no bad thoughts or terrible, terrible inner voices that mess up with your mind.

but it can get suffocating when you're alone, it's so much more difficult to tell yourself all the heartening words he can say to you when things get rough, when you start forgetting your worth. when overthinking makes it harder for you to breathe or look at yourself.

there are moments like this evening, when you can't stop asking yourself what does he see? what could san possibly have found in you that made him fall in love and what can san still see in you that doesn't make him want to leave? you can't wrap your head around it. all you see when you look in the mirror is someone with so many imperfections that it's hard to believe you are even lovable in the first place. worthy of his love. you wish you could radiate confidence next to him, but how is that possible when you feel like your thoughts swallow you whole? making you feel so insignificant?

it breaks your heart. and it evokes such sadness and disappointment inside you. because you understand that there isn't much you can change. that you may, unrightfully so, bring san's mood down and make him feel guilty. you love him so dearly — that's why you're so afraid of losing him.

there are moments like this evening, when all you do is cry your heart out because he's not around, all curled up in a ball while tightly hugging your knees, your flushed face hidden between them. but no matter what, you don't feel better. not even after the hours that had passed by.

"waaaah, baby, baby, i saw a new shop on my way home and it has soooooo many cute things," he squeals. ''i couldn't get inside because i was rushing to see you but i spotted a plushie that looked just like byeol! ah, really, we should go there together!" you hear his excited chattering while he takes off his coat and sneakers. in the bedroom, you try your best to look like you're in a deep sleep, your tears clothed eyelashes softly touching the skin of your under eyes.

and there are moments like this evening, when you can suddenly feel yourself being pulled away from your corrupted, self destructive bubble by a gentle touch that saved you so many times before, in the past.

"y/n? aegiya? hey, hey, hey, what's the matter? honey, what's wrong? why are you crying?"

at first, san innocently thought you just fell asleep while waiting for him and he was ready to close the bedroom's door, but he missed you too much and wanted to take a look at his lover before leaving. to delicately trace the line of your cheekbone with his fingertips, to stare at the way you look so peaceful and beautiful while sleeping with hearts in his eyes. it's what he does every time, but this time something was off. you couldn't fool him, not when it comes to your truthful feelings.

in a desperate way of needing to protect you, san swiftly changes his position, from crouching besides the bed to sitting at the edge of it, leaning towards you. he is panicking internally, but he wants to help and showing you this side of him right now won't do. for how long have you been crying? for how long has his precious lover been hurting themselves?

his heart feels crushed by the way you sob his name out and hide your face in the soft pillow. "sannie... i am sorry. i am so sorry."

"shh, it's alright. i am here, baby, i've got you. whatever it is, i am here," he reassures you in a hushed tone. "don't hide from me, beautiful, look at me. please, y/n."

san's voice sounds wretched and a bit shaky, as if it's hard for him to control his emotions. a big weight is taken off his shoulders the moment you decide to turn around and gaze up at him, all teary eyed, looking so exhausted. mentally and physically exhausted. even if there is so much unspoken worry in his eyes, his unforeseen smile takes you by surprise, but warms your heart and makes you forget about everything for a split second. it's a genuine, soft and loving smile, the familiar curl of his lips whenever he's encouraging you about something.

"can i hug you, my love?"

the whispered question makes you choke up. until this exact moment, you had no idea how badly you yearned for san to wrap his hands around you, to push away all those bad thoughts for you because you can't bear doing it all by yourself anymore. so you nod your head and reach out to him, his fingers gently interlocking with yours to pull you in a tender embrace. he lets out a long sigh, one of his arms wrapping tightly around your waist whilst his other arm hugs your shoulders, offering them a small squeeze as if he's trying to comfort you. in this vulnerable position, you feel him beginning to slowly rock both of your bodies from side to side because he knows it calms you down. after a long minute, his sweet voice lights up the room.

"what happened, jagi? do you want to tell me?"

you sniffle as silently as you can, rubbing your cheek against his broad shoulder while you try to find the right words to speak up. you hear a soft ''take your time'' coming from san's lips that soothes your hazy mind, his hand finding the perfect spot to caress the top of your head.

"do you love me, sannie? like, really love me? for who i am?" you shyly ask him. it's such a stupid question, you think while wiping away with your thumb a hot tear that just rolled down your cheek.

san is taken aback by your questions, but he immediately pushes that aside, knowing it's human for everyone to have their doubtful and insecure days. he promptly answers you. "i love you for who you are to the moon and back, y/n. i love you 3000, i loved you yesterday, i love you today and will surely, definitely, more than one hundred percent love you tomorrow. aaaand the day after tomorrow, beautiful."

he lowers his head so he can leave a light kiss behind your ear and continues to whisper to you. "and so on. for the rest of my life. i love you with so much of my heart that none is left to protest."

not only your body, but your dark thoughts as well seem to melt away the more san comforts you, the more he envelops you in his adoration.

you slowly rise your head and meet a pair of cat-like eyes fondly looking back at you. san softly hums as he leans in and kisses your forehead, the intimate gesture compelling you to close your eyes in content.

"i just... gosh, i hate the way i look, the way i act, i think, i speak, i hate it all," you let out what has been eating you inside. you sigh as you feel his lips turn into a pout against the skin of your forehead. "i'm sorry, i shouldn't sadden you even mo–"

"ah, how dare you apologize for such thing, aegiya?" he gently scolds you, but his frowning quickly fades away once he understands the gravity of the situation. "when i say that i love you, i mean it especially in moments like these. even if my heart hurts to see you this sad and all i want to do is keep you in there, protected from everything, i do want to witness every part of you. no matter how awful you think it is. i am not leaving, y/n. i am willing to love you through all of your ups and downs."

the wicked voice in the back of your head tells you to deny his confession, but san feels your uncertainty and slowly raises his hands, cupping your face as you feel the warmth of his palms against your cheeks. you inhale deeply, — an attempt to stop another wave of tears.

"hey. can you do something for me baby?" he quietly asks you, with hope written all over his face. the second you agree with him, your boyfriend breaks into his well known dimpled smile. "thank you. here, hold my hand as tight as you want, okay?"

you listen to him and grab his hand, san bringing yours close to his mouth and kissing the back of it affectionately. he helps you get up.

"follow me."

"where are we going?" you ask, a bit anxious and san can sense it from the way you've tightened your grip on his hand.

"don't worry, we aren't leaving the bedroom. come on, come on!" he cutely giggles, gently shaking your hand.

without any more questions, you walk behind him until both of you are facing the long mirror on the wall. you can't help but frown, visibly confused as san makes you stay in front of him, your back facing his front.

"give me a few more minutes of your time, my love. i promise it will be worth it."

you can't help but softly smile at him. "san, you know i would give you my every second for the rest of my life if needed."

he dramatically clutches his heart, shutting his eyes tight while his head falls back. "aing! wah! ouch, baby, my heart!"

his playful reaction sparked an amused chuckle out of you. your lover smiles, clearly very proud of himself for making you laugh a bit. and very proud of you for allowing yourself to feel better.

"do you have the slightest idea how brightly you radiate when you smile? when you look at me with those pretty, sparkly eyes of yours? do you have any idea how lucky i am, mm?"

you instinctively bite your lower lip, looking away from him. you yelp when you feel his fingertips all of the sudden tickling your waist. laughing, you want to protest, but his face expression softens your heart.

"don't look awaaaaay, my plan won't work if you do thaaat!" he admits, all sulky and with begging eyes.

"okay, okay," you mutter, fighting another giggle.

smiling again, san stops his tickling. instead, he comfortably lets his hands rest on your hips. "this time, can you try looking at yourself in the mirror rather than looking back at me?"

you close your eyes for a brief moment, gaining some inner strength to look at yourself without breaking down. when you open your eyes, you notice san patiently glancing at you.

"mm. ah! no, no, eyes on yourse– that's it," he lets out a breathy giggle, patting your hips. "good job."

his praising gives you more courage, even if you still find it hard to keep your eyes fixated on your face and body. "um... where do i look?"

"just listen to me and your eyes will follow naturally, okay?"

you hum, leaning onto him slightly. he notices and with a cheerful sound escaping his curled lips, hugs you from behind.

"i love your eyes. their color, their shape... those gorgeous eyes have seen so much. witnessed so many memorable moments, but also unpleasant ones that helped you grow as a person. i also love your nose. really, ah, i really love your nose, did you know that, jagi?"

san raises one hand and softly traces the line of your nose. when his finger reaches the tip of it, he gently taps it as he lets out an adorable "boop!". you close your eyes and laugh at how endearing he is.

"i also love when your nose wrinkles like that when you laugh. you're so cute," he whines. "why can't i just make you pocket sized and keep you in there? because i wouldn't be able to kiss you and cuddle with you then!" him answering his own question is a very amusing sight for you.

"ah, and your cute cheeks that i always kiss and–"

"and sometimes munch on them." you teasingly finish his sentence. he pouts again, as if he got caught.

"but they look munchable! it's not my fault!"

while you're giggling at him, san's fingers move a bit lower, to the corner of your lips. you feel your face starting to heat up.

"i love your lips. the shape of them. so mesmerizing, baby," he whispers and your eyes follow his, staring at the way his fingertip barely touches your cupid's bow. you don't move, barely breathing while he traces the shape of your mouth. "your thoughts always come out through those lips. and you always bless me with the way you talk, the way your voice sounds. and the way you pucker your lips when you lean in to share a kiss with me. how soft they feel against mine. i strongly believe they were made for me."

you become aware of how hot your cheeks have become. san notices that as well and smiles, muttering a "cute" under his breath before moving lower with his hands, making sure to lovingly caress every inch of your skin.

"your shoulders. you carried and still carry so much weight on them. and i admire you so much for that. you are such a strong person," he speaks softly and his words touch the deepest corner of your heart, making it flutter against your rib cage. to know he appreciates you for the battles you went through the same way you admire him for fighting his own struggles is very comforting.

"but my shoulders are broader, baby, so i don't mind if you throw some of that weight on them, if not all of it. your strong boyfriend can handle it!"

his fingers slowly move down your arms. "i love your arms too. the way you always wrap them around me. you make me feel so loved," san whispers, softly kissing your right shoulder. "so loved. i love when we snuggle up to each other and i get to be the little spoon."

"mhm, i know. you're always so excited about that." both of you laugh at your words. san kisses your hands one more time before going lower on your body. once they reach your stomach, he interlocks his own fingers against it, smiling to himself.

"i love your stomach, baby. so much. it always makes me so happy when you fill it with yummy food. when i bring you to the best restaurants and we sit there, enjoying each other's presence and the delicious meals we chose to eat. i know it's hard to have a good appetite sometimes, but i want you to know how proud i feel when i look at you enjoying your favorite food. the way you go nom nom nom nom nom nom," he cutely mimics. you giggle, shaking your head. "really! it warms my heart."

he takes you by surprise when he crouches down behind you and hugs your legs, clinging to them with the sweetest look on his face.

"sannie, love, wha–"

"i can't forget your legs, jagiyaaaa! those legs that i love so much. they bring you to so many places. they brought you to me," he sighs in content, hugging them a bit tighter. "the way they move whenever i make you dance with me in the living room or kitchen. ah, i'm so thankful for them."

this whole time, your eyes have been following san's hands without even realizing. with his help and gentle care, you managed to draw imaginary, precious flowers all over your body. from the corner of your eyes, to all the way down where you ground yourself. everything feels like a breath of fresh air, thanks to him. and you will probably never know how to thank him enough for everything he does for you. but as you turned around to press your lips against his in an intimate kiss, you secretly made a promise to him. that no matter how difficult the real life gets, he has the key to your heart, a heart which will always beat for him. that you will forever allow him to ease up your mind and help you breathe.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡ taglist: my loveliest @yuyusuyu

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[ladybeug]

Went to Taylor swift tonight, and 3 people gave me bracelets - even though I didn’t have any to trade!!

Sharing this bc I am touched by the kindness of the Taylor swift community and I hope the 2 teens and woman in mcmenamins know they made my day so much better!!!