#Because I really want to make these for people to buy

[jiminrings]

anything

pairing: yoongi x reader

wordcount: 10k

glimpse: yoongi doesn't want to move on from his ex because she's everything he's ever known, whereas you want to move on from him because he's everything you've ever loved.

alternatively, yoongi's your best friend and you've been in love with him your whole life.

[ angst, fluff, friends to Not Friends to lovers, pitiful amounts of Yearning And Pining, emotional constipation, second lead taehyung being unbearable And delicious somehow, jealousy, the harrowing argument of what it means to seek growth n seek comfort, VINDICATION!!!, redemption ]

notes: because i've decided that i will never become sick of writing lovers who are doomed but not really, here we are 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ to get the full experience, pls listen to the song that was the inspo behind this!!

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!! 

Yoongi's only ever been with one woman his entire life.

Ever since he turned old enough to introduce someone to his parents without them mistaking it for puppy love, which in his case was at seventeen years old, Yoongi quickly realized that he doesn’t ever want to introduce anyone other than Haein.

Yoongi, at his fresh age of seventeen, made a pact to himself to never bring someone home again if it’s not Haein, because bothering a nineteen-year old you for your own house slippers to lend to his girlfriend (he didn’t want to spend his allowance buying a nice pair when he could just sacrifice his dignity by groveling at your feet for it) was too much of a hassle.

He didn’t like the fuss that came with forming crushes. Yoongi’s spent countless nights scrutinizing his first love’s actions during recess and microanalyzing her tone towards him from the morning earlier— he doesn’t want to go through any of that again. 

He doesn’t want the grown-up equivalent of it either, because all throughout high school and some bits of college wherein he and Haein were together and totally not broken up in a perpetual on-off cycle as usual, Yoongi thought that he was set for life with her.

Unlike you, he hasn’t had his share of multiple first kisses. Yoongi, not even once, stepped into a bar with wandering eyes and a hopeful perk to his tone. He hasn’t worried about making first impressions again, nor has he ever had to ask how many people came into the picture before him.

In Yoongi’s eyes, it’s only been Haein the entire time. There’s no before, during, and after her, even if the last phase in time is just something he hopes for and is not set into stone. 

It’s still Haein for him, the kind, starry-eyed girl that wore your house slippers when she stepped foot into his childhood home for the first time to meet his parents, and it’s been her ever since.

It’s still her, because she never knew that the slippers she wore was actually yours, which made it her one and only designated pair, so much so that she even took it with her when she moved in with Yoongi in their shared apartment.

It’s still her, because you’ve gone through multiple pairs ever since, and so did the boyfriends you took home to meet your family.

It’s still Haein, because Yoongi hasn’t moved on from her even if they broke up for good (or atleast that’s what you’ve heard in verbatim and what Yoongi refuses to confirm) a year ago.

"There's nothing wrong with being with someone new," you snort, your tone bordering on condescending to which Yoongi predicted correctly, simply because you’ve had this conversation a million times already. 

You told him that in your attempt to comfort him when Haein broke up with him back on the second semester of their first year in college, wherein he found himself wailing against your sheets at your dorm.

You told him that in your attempt to appease him when he broke up with her during their junior year, wherein he had to wipe at his tears furiously before fixing his tie because it was only hours before your graduation and both your parents downstairs are calling for a picture.

You tell it to him now too, in your attempt to convince both Yoongi and yourself, as he starfishes on your couch while reminiscing what could’ve been another anniversary (albeit choppy and not at all continuous) of the first time they held hands.

"Yes there is," he groans, his emotions maturing enough not to cry helplessly unlike the past breakups, but not enough to stop glomming onto you. “I don't want to talk about my favorite color again. I don't want to answer how many siblings I have. I don't want to be asked the extremely quirky question of whether I think pineapple belongs on pizza or not, again!"

"It's only normal to introduce yourself again and again until you find the right one for you!" you laugh, your self-built amusement keeping the entire situation light for you because if you don’t find a way to distract yourself from Yoongi holding onto Haein pathetically, just like how you do so with him, you’d be as devastated as him.

You’d be devastated too if you realize that there’s little to no chance of earning back the only person you’ve ever truly loved, if not more— except you’re not Yoongi, and he’s not Haein.

What you have to go through is more devastating because Yoongi’s never really been yours in the first place.

"But I want Haein to be right for me," he whines, his eyes sleepy from all the fatigue that comes with driving all the way to your place, just so he could be miserable around you and not apart from you. “Even if she's not, I want it to be her."

You’re quiet for awhile, and Yoongi doubts your silence because you’ve only ever chewed his ear off whenever he started moping about Haein. He’s noticed it ever since you were young; you’d never let a single second pass without overwhelming him with your words whenever he thought too deeply, too lowly about anything. You didn’t give him a break to even think when it comes to times like these, so Yoongi grows even more concerned when you give him a break.

He’s used to the noise that is you trying to distract him from everything that pains him.

"For the record, you already did those things twice in your life,” you murmur after some time, looking up from the glass of wine that Yoongi poured you and bought for your collection before he made the decision of crashing out over Haein in your living room.

"Oh my god, did I kiss someone while I was drunk? When you dragged me out for drinks last week? When-… when it was, uh, when it was the anniversary of me and her moving in and-…”

"No, you monogamous asshole," you interrupt, rolling your eyes. "You did it with Haein."

"What are you talking about?" Yoongi tilts his head, his eyebrows furrowed as he tries to comprehend what you’re saying.

You still look annoyed at him, as you’ve always done whenever he comes to you crying about her, but now, you look more subdued; like you’re a little more melancholic for god knows what reason (Yoongi knows it’s definitely not about him and Haein’s breakup), and a little less agitated at having to have this conversation for the nth time.

"I knew you first, Yoongi," you remind faintly, shoulders offering a weak shrug. "You had to do it all over again for Haein when she came into your life, but I don't see you complaining."

Yoongi hits pause on his agony to frown slightly, sitting up on your couch in order to nudge you with his shoulder. ”But that's different because I grew up knowing you. It's only natural for you to know me this way.”

The snort that leaves you borders on offensive, and Yoongi automatically narrows his eyes when he senses the hint of sarcasm in your smirk.

”You mean know you as intimately as your one and only girlfriend did? Maybe even more than Haein actually does know you?"

"If you put it that way it sounds weird, but yeah," Yoongi scoffs defensively, crossing his arms on his chest before looking up at the high ceilings of your apartment in surrender. “Aren't just close friends basically lovers without the formalities?"

Yoongi’s only ever been with one woman his entire life.

You figure it’s because of that so he doesn’t know what he’s saying. 

You figure it’s because of Haein’s monopoly on his feelings and experiences that you convince yourself that Yoongi hasn’t been kicked around enough, to realize that what he’s saying is enough for you to assume a higher, closer place in his life.

You figure that Yoongi only knows love because of Haein and not love itself, enough for him to tell you that being close friends with him is the equivalent of loving him in that light, only without the coveted crown that comes with being his first and only love that Haein still possesses.

"You're right," you mutter, downing the rest of your wine and the assumption that Yoongi knows it’s him whom your hearts yearns for. "It does sound weird when you put it that way."

( ♡ ) 

Yoongi’s a manny. 

More specifically and less confusingly, Yoongi’s a male nanny and he enjoys the job.

When you graduated two years earlier than he did, all he talked about was how happy and envious he was for you over being born earlier than him. He told you that you were unfair (and so were your parents) by bringing you to the world earlier and not as the same time as him, even detailing how he wants to be just a day older than you instead of you being ahead by two full birthdays.

When you graduated two years earlier than him, proving just how lucky you were (even if Yoongi argues that it’s your sheer intellect and not something as silly as luck) by landing a coveted job, all Yoongi could talk about was how he wanted to follow in your footsteps.

He’s not in the place where you are now, and although neither of you are bitter about it, some part of Yoongi still thinks what could’ve been.

“I should’ve never brought it up,” you apologize sincerely, nudging him with your knee to get the point across because you didn’t really mean to throw him into a loop.

You’re sure that Taehyung, your colleague who’s one year your junior and knew both you and Yoongi from college, didn’t really mean to offend the latter either, or atleast that’s what you think. 

You only opened up about your brush-up with Taehyung in the elevator because it was your first time bumping into each other having worked in the same company for so long, and you thought (read: thought) that Yoongi would be amused about the interaction too.

You thought that Yoongi would be amused about your encounter with Taehyung because the third question he asks you (the first asking how you were doing and the second asking if you were single) ventures straight to Yoongi and what he was up to. 

You thought he’d be amused that Taehyung still remembers how the both of you were attached to the hip despite being apart in year levels, but with the way Yoongi scowls (even for just the briefest second), you knew that you hit a sore spot. 

“Nah. It’s okay,” Yoongi exhales, glossing over the random question of Taehyung asking if you were taken before willing himself to forget it completely, and moving onto the facet that you thought offended him. “It pays well, honestly. I didn’t think I would ever score a job like this.”

“Me neither,” you shrug lightly, being relieved when you see the playful roll of Yoongi’s eyes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he whines, throwing his head back in faux annoyance, to which he may or may not attribute to Hwayoung’s (one of the children he looks after) tendencies.

“I don’t mean it in a bad way, Yoongs. It’s just that, well, I pictured that you’d be this hotshot data analyst, or I.T, or something equally as technical and now-…” you trail off, the smile in your face genuine. “You’re a hotshot nanny.”

“This wasn’t my dream. You knew that,” he snorts, asserting his point by once again bringing up your extensive knowledge about him. “But I was just strapped for cash this one time, and I was behind on rent and my stupid, complicated job at my old company didn’t pay on time– then you already knew about my neighbors being these newlyweds with twin babies and before I knew it, I was looking after them! I was making bank by staying up like I’ve always done, and I get an audience when I’m talking to myself!”

Yoongi doesn’t overestimate your familiarity for him, and neither does he overestimate your sincerity towards his decisions. You judge him, sure (you’ve never made your annoyance for his weakness for Haein and his affinity for their backwards-moving relationship a secret), but you’ve never actually discouraged him from anything.

You didn’t talk him out of getting back with Haein all those breakups ago.

You didn’t talk him out of applying for unrelated jobs outside of his degree.

You don’t talk Yoongi out of anything, even anyone, that’s capable of bringing him joy.

“You love what you’re doing and you’re earning a shit ton. You don’t have to be affected by what an old classmate is asking.”

“That old classmate is working in the same Fortune Global 500 company as you are,” he chuckles just a little bit bitterly, making you nudge his knee a little harder this time. “But still,” he deadpans. “It’s okay. I’ll get over it. I can consider this as practice anyway.”

“You’re… opening up a babysitting company…?”

“Stupid,” Yoongi snickers, squeezing your knee tightly before his hold disappears. “No! I mean practice before I have a family in the future!” he laughs, shaking his head at you as if it wasn’t the most obvious thing in the world; as if his optimism for a future with Haein isn’t persistent. “I don’t know what’s Haein’s take on working if we ever do have children, but either way, it’s nice to know that I already have the basics mastered.”

Whenever you least expect it, even if you should know by now after spending so much of your life with Yoongi, he reminds you of your place.

“You and Haein aren’t even together now,” you mutter, keeping your gaze low.

“Can you shut up?” Yoongi groans, slouching in his seat. “I’m not saying we’re gonna have a family now. I’m saying maybe we’ll have one in the future.”

“But you’ve been broken up for years.”

“Again, Y/N,” Yoongi rolls his eyes, the playfulness between the two of you slowly but surely dissipating. “I need you to be quiet.”

( ♡ ) 

Your parents like throwing thanksgiving parties for you and your siblings.

It’s quite literally the joint event for all seasons because your parents don’t even dare to set out cake for anyone outside of your family to eat when the holidays come, promising to make the party they excessively fuss about to be an umbrella for the rest that they miss throughout the year.

It’s an event that none of you really asked for but your parents insist on anyway; mostly to celebrate their accomplished children, and just a tiny bit more to brag about the lives they’ve managed to cultivate.

Yoongi, like for every other thanksgiving party that your parents have thrown, shows up in his most prized suit. It’s his most expensive and cleanest one to date, and it’s a suit that he reserves only for your parents’ shenanigans; not for a relative’s wedding, and not for a rich friend’s event either — he wears it just for you.

“I’d hate to be your unemployed cousin during this time of the year,” he jokes, being unable to look around the room without locking eyes with atleast one of your relatives or mutual friends and waving at them, yet Yoongi’s not really peeved about it at all.

“Yeah, that side of the family hates us,” you laugh, the tension in your shoulders loosening when you realize that you have nothing to be anxious about, especially when you’re just across the person who knows you the most.

You have your fun in these thanksgiving parties, and Yoongi has his own. Your definition of fun means owning up to your achievements and not attributing them to luck, poking fun at your siblings behind their backs, and maybe striking up a conversation or two with a family friend that you forgot was more handsome than you thought he’d be.

Yoongi’s fun on the other hand, only ever revolved around you and Haein when it comes to these parties. Now that the latter wasn’t invited this year and he’s not capable of trailing after her like a puppy, feeling like an outcast amongst a sea of accomplished individuals, Yoongi can now trail after you, feeling like he belongs.

“Look at my parents. They keep boasting about you so much, you’d think they gave birth to you,” he nods his head to them, talking your aunt’s ear off as they keep gesturing to you, grinning when you catch their gaze.

“I don’t look at you as a brother. Gross!” your nose scrunches, making Yoongi roll his eyes and subsequently kick you lightly in the shin.

The two of you, thankfully, are okay. The awkward conversation that transpired about Taehyung’s curiosity and Yoongi’s own insistence of a future with Haein seems to never have sprung up in the first place.

You’ve known each other for a lifetime; it only felt appropriate, nevermind unhealthy, to let familiarity take its toll to make the two of you complacent enough to not apologize to each other and still be okay by the next day.

“My parents didn’t graduate college, but you knew that already,” Yoongi talks, gaze still holding out to his parents from a distance like it’s a stare he can’t break off because his eyes feel too comfortable. “They found a lot of things– a lot of people annoying because they made them feel inferior, but we never felt that way with your family, y’know?”

You’re not one to deny the distance between you and Yoongi; everything from your age difference, to how your childhood house overlooked his, and even to the feelings you share and don’t share, there’s an imbalance the two of you would never be able to tip.

“Your parents are genuine, close friends with my own, and your family never pitied ours,” he smiles, eyes crinkling in gratitude as he does so.

“I know that,” you return the sincerity, eyes set on his while his gaze is directed elsewhere. “But where’s all this coming from?”

“I see the way you look at me,” Yoongi shrugs, the second that it takes him to turn his attention to you making you falter.

You don’t know if you’re more scared or relieved at the possibility of Yoongi knowing about your feelings.

“And how do I look at you?” you test the waters, tilting at your head to try and closely gauge the tiny smile on his lips, but you come up empty.

“I can’t tell exactly, but you always look at me with some sort of guilt.”

“Why would I look at you with guilt?” a breathless laugh escapes you, the ease plastered on his face making you more and more pressured.

“I don’t know either! You tell me,” Yoongi laughs brightly, slinging an arm across your shoulder to which no one bats an eye to, because although they don’t know the two of you as well as you know each other, they have a semblance of it.

They know how you and Yoongi are friends; how you and Yoongi are close friends who are basically lovers without the formalities.

“We’ve known each other for a lifetime, Y/N. There’s nothing about one another that could surprise us anymore.”

“That sounds so boring,” you mutter, the words slipping out of you before you could even control them, effectively dampening the sentimental mood that Yoongi’s in.

“Excuse me?” he asks, a little bit offended but a lot more hurt over your comment.

“We’re not always gonna be the same, Yoongi,” you continue, staring at your feet with your voice low because it’s not like you can retract your words anymore; they’re as out there as you are when it comes to loving Yoongi silently.

“Do you… not want to be friends with me anymore?” he whispers, arm suddenly stalling as he tries to deduct whatever the hell you could possibly mean.

“Where did that come from?”

Yoongi chuckles uneasily, almost regretful he even said that outloud in fear of manifesting it. 

“I don’t– I-I don’t know! It’s just weird with the way you’re talking. Like you purposely want us to change.”

“You don’t?”

“No, I don’t,” he emphasizes. “If you’re already comfortable with the life that you have now, you don’t need to change,” Yoongi blinks slowly, unfamiliar with the way your eyes lack emotion. “I have you. I have the manny job. I have Haein.”

You’re quiet as you let Yoongi think and simmer in whatever he had to say, and he hates it.

“Is this life not enough for you yet?” he asks hesitantly, the premature scoff that leaves his throat making the bitterness linger for the slightest second. “What more could you want?”

You want to say it’s only him whom you lack, but you stay quiet.

You give Yoongi both the silence and the space to think, and he realizes that he’s never wanted to be overwhelmed by you more.

( ♡ ) 

Things have been awkward between you and Yoongi.

You didn’t mean to sound beyond ungrateful and out of touch, but simply (and maybe even arrogantly) put, Yoongi just didn’t get it. 

He didn’t get where you were coming from because he’s only stayed in one place long enough to call her his future. He didn’t get what you could be possibly going through because Yoongi only longs for comfort and not change because the latter wouldn’t benefit him in any way.

He’s right about him having the manny job makes him happy because he gets a heavy check and a learning experience. He’s also right, even if he’s rarely accurate when faced with her, about having Haein because you figure that if you were in his position, you wouldn’t ask for anything more.

If you were anything like Yoongi by having had the privilege of harboring the person you love and the life-long burden of having to yearn for her, you would be satisfied too.

It’s been a full week since the two of you talked and it’s the longest you ever went without any communication. There’s no texts coming from your end, but there had been plenty of it coming from Yoongi’s.

Yoongi, your best friend, knows that you didn’t end your thanksgiving party in the happiest note because he happened. He felt apologetic about it ever since because he didn’t mean to sound self-absorbed to the point of projecting his selfishness onto you; painting you as the villain would be the last thing he’ll ever do because he knew that between the two of you, you were the stronger one.

You’re the more rational, focused one who studied the same degree as he did, yet actually amounted to something infinitely more even if he’s the younger one who had more opportunities than you ever did.

You’re the more unyielding one between the two of you, because you can stomach ignoring him for a week while he’s about to lose his mind.

Yoongi could send a hundred more texts wherein he pretends to have mistakenly sent a discreet, low-lying sorry to you (because the two of you barely ever apologized to each other) instead of another person. He could react to a message of yours from two months ago just to try and see if you would comment on it.

He could even call you by Haein’s name just to purposely piss you off because he’d settle for anything if it meant breaking you out of your silent treatment, yet you don’t even move an inch whether he calls you on your phone or lingers in the coffee shop you frequent at in your workplace.

Yoongi can pull a hundred different reasons with most of them involving how he’s running errands with the children he looks after. He can say that Hwayoung knows your name (and he’s not lying about it either) and that she asked where you worked, and the both of them just happened to be in the area during their morning walk. He can say every excuse under the sun just to try and get you to talk to him, but you won’t budge.

Yoongi doesn’t like change but he likes the days wherein you rant to him about your day and ask how his went, just like every week before this one. He doesn’t like growth in the guise of everything he’s comfortable with being stripped away, but he likes the nights wherein he could call you and ask you to look after the children in the living room while he goes to the bathroom, when really, he’s just standing from a distance to look at you coo at them.

So when Yoongi got the call from your brother, asking him for a favor to look after your nephew if only he was free for the day (he wasn’t, but he made it work nonetheless), he immediately jumped at the chance of maybe, just maybe seeing you drop by at your family’s home.

“You’ve been ignoring me,” he says under his breath when he locks eyes with you in the nursery, your presence only being a surprise to him alone because he didn’t think you were staying with your parents the entire week when normally, you’d be a little high-strung staying with them after three consecutive days.

“Just been busy. Sorry,” you reply quietly, your apology only being an afterthought because you’re unsure who’s at fault.

“Me too,” Yoongi clears his throat, bouncing your sleeping nephew on his arms as he indiscreetly makes his way to you. “I’m sorry too, I mean.”

It’s weird for the both of you to apologize to each other.

It’s weird for you to see Yoongi in your childhood house and have no one question his presence, because the scene of him cradling your brother’s baby with a cloth strewn over his shoulder and your sister’s headband on his head to keep his hair away from his face, only looks right.

It’s weird for Yoongi to see you so torn up over him, and it’s even weirder that all the anger he had towards you for ignoring him just immediately dissipated.

Yoongi puts your nephew down on his crib with a precise gentleness to him, his hands cramping up not because he spent so long trying to get him to calm down, but because he doesn’t ever know what to do with them whenever you face him.

“You didn’t have to do this for my brother, y’know? You shouldn’t feel pressured to say yes just because he asked,” you clear your throat, filling the silence in with your voice that Yoongi has missed so badly.

“What are you talking about? I’m not on the clock right now,” Yoongi furrows his brows, the frown on his face evident. “I’m not here as a manny. I’m here as an uncle.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh,” he snorts, the snarky expression from him cutting through the tension between you. You could just throw your head back out of relief, knowing that Yoongi’s not that mad at you, but the both of you know you’re far from the clear.

You’re far from the clear when you don’t make a single move to come towards him across the room, even if it’s the only thing you wanted to do the past week.

You know you’re far from the clear and even further from moving on when it’s Yoongi who comes to you, his pace slow yet definitive, his fists unclenched for once as he practically leaps towards you in the end.

It takes one, two seconds for you to realize that although it’s Yoongi who made the first move to get close to you, it’s you who puts your hands on his cheeks, forehead rested against his with your eyes closed, tightly. Painfully.

Yoongi opens his eyes when you do, staying in your grasp even if he realizes that you almost kissed.

“You can read my mind, Yoongi, right?” you whisper, pulling apart briefly to look up at him, yet close nonetheless because you could still practically hear his heart beating out of his chest.

“Yeah,” he swallows the lump in his throat, the hand he has around your waist loosening for just a fraction of a second, yet you don’t need it— you don’t need him to unravel further to confirm what you’ve always known.

“So I don’t need to say it out loud,” you smile tightly, the shaky sigh that leaves you making Yoongi’s lips purse out of guilt. “So I don’t need to say it out loud that I love you,” you say in your mind, eyes already stinging even if Yoongi hasn’t let go of you yet.

“You don’t,” he affirms, his voice hoarse as his hand on your waist still doesn’t budge, the other cradling your wrist because he can’t decipher if it’s him wanting to keep your hand on his face, or if it’s him keeping you away. “You can read my mind too, right?”

You nod earnestly, the smile that he gives you even being tighter than yours.

“Right,” he clears his throat. “So I can’t— I-I don’t have to say it either,” he whispers. “I don’t need to say out loud that the feeling isn’t mutual,” you read in his mind, the silent admission effectively relieving you of the weight you’ve carried ever since you knew him.

Yoongi’s phone ringing is the only thing that snaps the both of you from your daze, your immediate composure being shaky despite having prepared for this for so long because you knew it anyway.

You know that no matter how much Yoongi looks like he belongs to you, your life, and everything in between, you still won’t stand a chance against the person who’d make him drop everything new for the promise of coming home to everything he’s familiar with.

“It’s uhm— it’s Haein,” he explains, the nervous grin he has on face being infectious despite your very own appearing for a much different reason. “She wants to talk about things.”

“You don’t have to let me know,” you shake your head, shoving your hands into your pockets. “Go, Yoongi.”

.

.

.

You’re not ignoring Yoongi anymore.

Apropos of nothing, Yoongi and Haein are talking again.

They’re not together, yet, but you know how it always ends between them anyway, so you steel yourself for the worst despite it being Yoongi’s best.

( ♡ ) 

You badly want to change.

You badly want to change and although it’s not Yoongi’s fault, the way he hovers around you makes you feel otherwise.

You already made well on your promise of not shutting him out whenever things get tough for you, but even then, no part of the way you’ve been acting recently ever appeases Yoongi.

He’s accustomed to you growing like you always have been, yet he didn’t even think that you changing bit by bit could ever impact him this greatly, Sure, Yoongi’s happy that you’re no longer ignoring him intentionally, but his stomach still turns every time you do reply to him at an ungodly hour and he’s reminded of your little joke (he hopes it is) that you’re more active at that time of night because of your extracurriculars.

Yoongi’s happy that you still turn to him, but a large part of him, if not the entirety, grows bitter when he sees you looking happier nowadays and he can’t tell if it’s because of something you’ve already told him or if it’s because of something totally unrelated and how he could never know, because the one thing that he made you promise is for you to keep being his friend.

You’re still Yoongi’s friend before, during, and after your confession, and he doesn’t know if that placates him.

Yoongi doesn’t want to amount to anything less than a friend to you but he doesn’t want to be your family either. He wants to be whatever it is in your life that knows why you’re smiling so much and why you barely rant to him.

He wants to be whatever, whoever, it is your life in order to know that you’re seeing Taehyung right from your mouth and not from your brother’s like he’s a jaded suitor that’s been anticipating bad news.

Yoongi wants to matter enough, as if he already doesn’t, to know about you having a boyfriend.

“You have a boyfriend and you didn’t tell me?” he spits, the way he barrels into your apartment with his own keycard being unceremonious. 

Yoongi knows today’s your rest day and he knows that by this time, you’d be on a call with him to ask about his day and entertain Hwayoung who keeps butting into your conversation. By this time, it would’ve still been you and him, whether or not Haein and Taehyung were in the picture.

“You’re hooking up with the guy that talked shit about me, and you didn’t bother telling me?”

“Taehyung didn’t talk shit about you,” you scoff, closing the door after him as you follow him into your living room.

Yoongi’s eyes widen comically, heart clenching when he realizes that you have no comeback for anything else he’s said, jaw clenching as he points a finger at you.

“He fucking looked down on me-…”

“He was just shocked!” 

“Are you seriously defending him instead of being on my side?!” he exclaims, the sarcastic chuckle that leaves his lips rubbing you wrong because for any other person and any other instance, you’d laugh with him too.

“Do you not expect me to?” you snarl. “You’re dragging my boyfriend’s name to an argument that you started, and you don’t expect me to defend him?”

“You’re being a hypocrite,” he grits, nostrils flaring in sheer anger.

“And if I am, then what about it?!” you throw your hands into the air, poking your finger at his chest yet he refuses to get out of your face. “Have you not ever been a hypocrite when it comes to defending the person you love?”

It’s not your glare that gets him to back off.

It’s not your hostile, defensive nature towards Yoongi, in defense of Taehyung, that makes him deadly silent.

It’s you, holding up a mirror for the same blind defensiveness that he’d always carry whenever your words just barely graze Haein’s honor.

You’re guilty of judging Yoongi, but not of dissuading him from pursuing Haein like he’s always done — Yoongi, however, can’t say the same for himself.

“I hope Taehyung’s worth it,” he spits. “I hope he’s worth treating me like this, because not once have I ever made you less of a priority even when Haein was still in the picture.”

The use of was makes you pause, the past tense making you blink owlishly and finally take a step back from Yoongi as if it’s just your proximity to him that was the raging problem.

“Haein was my girlfriend but I never, never turned my back on you. I never made things awkward for us. I never stopped showing up for you, even if it costed me with her. I never made you feel the way you’re making me feel now,” Yoongi heaves, jaw clenching from how hard he’s ignoring the lump in his throat.

You chuckle sarcastically, the briefest glimpse you have of yourself in Yoongi’s words making you feel utterly pathetic. “Yeah? And how am I making you feel now?”

“Like we haven’t known each other our whole lives.”

( ♡ ) 

It’s been months since you and Yoongi properly talked to each other.

Life got in the way between the two of you and as much as Yoongi didn’t want to push, you didn’t want to grow out of the comfort that you already had with Taehyung either.

There were still texts and calls, but in between Yoongi getting whisked away for his employers’ vacation for a change and you being content with your job and your boyfriend as your comfort, neither of you made any drastic moves after your fight.

The only apology that Yoongi could get out of you after storming off from your apartment was you asking if he had already eaten dinner two nights after your fight, while the only apology that your close friend could ever give to you was that he hadn’t (even if he actually did), just to get your conversation rolling.

You feel guilty reserving parts of you from Yoongi, namely Taehyung and how he fits into your life, even if it’s always been established that there’s no use hiding. You know a terrible lot of information about how Yoongi and Haein are in bed against your will, and Yoongi has an awful amount of knowledge about your preference for condoms and how you like your men. 

There’s guilt in your chest and you don’t think it would ever disappear for as long as Yoongi’s still in your life. Being defensive about anyone outside of your family and Yoongi, specifically because neither are synonymous no matter how much Yoongi keeps recurring from your family’s mouths, is something entirely brand new.

Taehyung is new to your system, just as Yoongi was all those years ago, and it scares him more than it scares you.

The concept of lagging behind someone who had just been a casual topic of interest (more specifically because he had seemingly offended you and him) then became your boyfriend overnight feels like a giant slap on the face because Yoongi, not once, has ever entertained the possibility that you’d be as lovesick as him.

He didn’t think that you were also capable of being defensive about a loved one who isn’t him, just like he is over Haein. 

He didn’t think about how angry and offended he’d feel seeing you become so protective of someone who doesn’t know you like he does, because in Yoongi’s defense, Taehyung doesn’t know shit about you.

Taehyung does not and will never know you like he does, because he never trailed after you and idolized you in everything that you do, so much so that he only pursued his degree because you did before him.

Unlike Yoongi, Taehyung never had to be taught by you how to drive and what it means to have his family’s manual transmission car stall right after the stoplight turned green, because it meant you having to comfort Yoongi who was in tears after being honked at, and you lying straight through your teeth to his parents by saying that he was excellent and should definitely be trusted with driving the car alone with Haein to take her on dates.

Unlike the person you know the most, Taehyung never had to have the conversation with your dad about looking after you in college despite being younger, yet puffing his chest out nonetheless to agree because he made it his personal mission.

Taehyung will never be Yoongi and the latter takes pride in it, except now, he feels that Taehyung doesn’t ever want to be in his position—

Why would Taehyung vie for his position when it’s clear that he’s at an advantage?

Yoongi ignores his feelings and grievances the best that he can, yet unlike the old him who could endure so much shit because it meant having you to lean on, he can’t help but explode now that it’s you whom he can’t see eye to eye with.

“Taehyung and I were thinking of eloping,” you say out of the blue, your admission feeling appropriate (in your eyes, atleast) because you and Yoongi have so much to catch up on after being apart and he strayed the topic towards your sister who’s expecting her first child.

You thought it was your turn to say something equally as life-changing, because with the way Yoongi hasn’t talked about Haein once and you assuming that it’s because they were back together and he was just shy to talk about it, you bit the bullet first.

You thought wrong, clearly, because the happiness completely drains away from Yoongi the moment you finished your sentence.

“What?” he asks. “Don’t be stupid.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said, don’t be stupid,” he repeats, eyes narrowing at you in anger. “You’ve only been in a relationship with him for months-…”

“I’ve known him for years-…”

“And that still doesn’t justify you marrying him just because you feel like it,” he spits, your revelation far from making him happy like you thought it would. “Stop being stupid, Y/N. You’re not marrying Taehyung just because you’re in another one of your impulsive moods.”

Your mouth falls open at that, scoffing in disbelief because Yoongi isn’t letting up in the slightest with the way there’s no hint of his outburst just being a sick joke.

“I’m not being impulsive. I really do want to marry him!”

“Oh yeah? How’s married life going to work out for you when-…”

“I only told you because I wanted to let you know. I wasn’t asking you to weigh in, Yoongi,” you snap, crossing your arms in defense while Yoongi only steps towards you.

The thought of eloping with Taehyung crossed your mind once after a weird dream, and you thought nothing about it at first so you texted him and went right back to sleep. What you didn’t expect was that he didn’t hate the idea at all (in fact, he was even happy that you thought about it), and Taehyung’s confirmation for something unlike you, for something that resembled to settling and being comfortable, changed you completely.

“You don’t expect me to interfere when you tell me you’re going to make the biggest mistake of your life?” Yoongi huffs, his eyes widening over your seeming indifference. 

“Who the fuck are you to tell me that getting married to Taehyung would be the biggest mistake I’ll ever make?”

“I’m your closest friend! I know you better than you know yourself and-…”

“You don’t,” you retort. “Clearly, you don’t know me at all or even respect me when you think the worst of Taehyung when you barely even know him!”

“I could know Taehyung for a decade and still think the fucking worst of him!” Yoongi raises his voice, laughing humorlessly as he runs his hand through his hair. “I could know Taehyung or any other guy for a lifetime and still think that they won’t ever be good enough for you!”

The laugh that escapes you is offensive.

It’s as offensive as Yoongi making your graduation about him by crying to your sheets because Haein broke up with him, and it’s as offensive as you scoffing to his face when he said that having his job serves as his practice for a future with her.

“What, because you’re in love with me?” you spit, trying to trigger something in him just so he could leave you be, for good, because everything that’s he’s saying to now– with the defensiveness you’ve only heard from yourself whenever he rationalized trying to get back with his first love — takes you right back to your previous pining.

Yoongi’s only silent, trusting that you could read his mind, and you’ve never hated knowing him as much as you do than now.

“You’re telling me that you’re in love with me, right when I decided I was sick of loving you my whole life?” you whisper, the tears stinging from the corner of your eyes making your heart clench. You’ve been called too stubborn. Too calculating and too heartless, even by your own family, and for you to unfold in front of Yoongi this easily makes you wail. “Are you shitting me, Yoongi? Are you— are you out of your goddamn mind to tell me this?”

Yoongi looks down in shame, the truth of him being over his first love not relieving the weight on his shoulders like he foolishly expected, because everything he falls short when he sees you crying.

“I didn’t want to get back to Haein with something weighing so heavily on my chest,” he whispers. “I didn’t want to get back with her because you just ignoring me for a fucking week hurt more than any breakup I’ve had with her.” 

Yoongi, vividly, can remember how distraught he was. He can remember how he can’t recall a time wherein he didn’t have you to depend on, as if he didn’t ever outgrow the phase of him idolizing you and following you wherever you went.

As if he’s still the seventeen year old him asking to borrow your slippers for Haein, while deep down seeking your approval for her because he didn’t want to do anything without you beaming at him.

“I-I felt… I felt like I was losing my mind, Y/N.”

“Can you read my mind right now?” you ask, shakily exhaling as you look down on the floor.

“That’s a really stupid thing to bring up right now,” Yoongi breathlessly chuckles, letting his hair brush past his eyes because he’s a little terrified of looking how distraught, how disappointed, you are. “But no.”

“Do you not want to say it out loud?” he asks, making you laugh silently as you gathered the strength to sit next to him, yet not as close as you always did. “Whatever it is, it’s not like I’m going to give up now,” he mumbles, looking down on your hand that’s rested on the cushion, your pinky finger just centimeters away from his, yet he can’t move to hold you like he wants to.

You wanted Yoongi and he wants you, and there’s only so much points where you could intersect until you say what’s been lingering in your mind, just like every other apology the both of you have passed up.

“We need some time apart, Yoongi. We need space,” you mumble. “We need to figure it out on our own before we figure it out together because-…”

Yoongi finishes your thought for you, head tilted down and hand outstretched with the hope that comes with being a little too late for someone who’s waited a little too long.

“Because we’ve known each other our whole lives.”

Yoongi refuses to break even if he comprehends exactly what you’re saying, because there’s no point in it when he knows he’ll never be angry at you. You can defend him and you can hurt him all at once, yet he’ll never curse you, simply because there’s no point picking at wounds he’ll keep on licking anyway.

“Do we just-…” he shrugs lightly, pinky finger painfully close to yours until he makes the heavy move of lifting it, just enough to to cover yours. “Do we find our way back to each other? Is that it?”

“That’s the plan, hopefully,” you smile, sucking in a breath you never thought would be this heavy. “I’ll find you if you find me.”

“I’ll find you when you find me,” Yoongi corrects. “We’ll find our way back to each other.”

You resent comfort and Yoongi abhors change, but there’s only so much the both of you could take until you realize that the only thing constant in your lives is each other, no matter how many seasons pass you by.

For Yoongi, it’s you.

Despite everything, it’s still you.

( ♡ ) 

The year that you spend with Yoongi flitting every once in awhile like he’s only a friend, and not the man you’ve first loved, is a year you didn’t think you’d ever spend.

Despite you and Taehyung separating amicably, he still took with him the love that you sincerely invested. He wasn’t the first boyfriend you’ve ever had, and although you were no stranger to heartbreak, he still imprinted a large chunk of him onto you.

At one point in your life, you did want to marry him; and at several points in your life after him that you don’t even think of denying, you really thought it would be him if not for the life that you led.

You don’t resent Yoongi for loving you a little too late because there’s no point in it, as much as Taehyung doesn’t even hate you in the slightest for letting him let you go in pursuit of the change that the both of you badly needed.

Yoongi could never bring himself to hate you either, even if being apart from you gnawed at him from the inside. Making something out of himself had been his biggest plan outside of pursuing you from a distance, because as soon he tendered in his resignation letter to his employers and cried right in front of the children he looked after, Yoongi won’t ever lie and say that he wasn’t scared.

Yoongi resents change even if you’re someone who yearns for it, and even with the terror that wracks his bones of starting new without you being there for him as his safety net, Yoongi does it scared anyway.

He does it scared with one eye closed as he puts the degree he’s only learned to love because of you to work, developing an app for families to look for certified, trustworthy nannies.

He does it scared anyway with his heart barely into himself and fully into you when he shows up a full night early before your family’s thanksgiving party, donning his reserved suit as he clutches a new pair of house slippers, which again, like always and just like he is, is only for you.

For you, it’s Yoongi.

Despite everything, it’s still Yoongi.

[producedbysohyun]

Shark Week

Squid game x reader hcs

Summary: How the people in squid game would react to you being on your period (all separate)

Includes: Thanos, Se-mi, Dae-ho, Myung-gi, Jun-ho, Hyun-ju (non!squid game au)

Warnings: We are pretending for this one they aren’t all in major debt 🤗, a little suggestive on thanos’s part, If you’re scared of periods don’t read I guess?? 😭

a/n: this goes out to all my people who have to deal with periods! We are in this together 😔✊

Thanos

Ya you’re out of luck with this one 😔

Probably the worst person to have with you during your period

Definitely trys to rap his way into making you feel better but just fails miserably

“I know another way to make you feel better 😏”

“No”

“Ok 😞” *walks off with yet again another failed attempt*

If you asked him to go out and by you pads he would probably come back with those small cotton pads for your face

I mean he’s trying 😭

The type to ask “are you on your period” whenever you’re in a bad mood and is met with a slap every time

Doesn’t know what else to do so he probably just goes even more broke buying a bunch of food for you

(“With what money” we all yell in unison 🗣️)

Tolerates watching your “stupid” shows that you like just to make you happy but ends up being really interested

Se-mi

One of the best people to have with you

Deals with her period really well so she doesn’t really understand your pain but she gets the other things

Cuddles you all day!!

Literally turns into your slave

I feel like she would tease you about something and then accidentally make you cry because you’re overly sensitive

She feels so bad and you better believe she’s gonna watch what she says for the remainder of your period

You guys watch shows all day and just eat junk food

*stares at you dying in pain* “is it that bad?”

*starts crying*

“What- nooo baby I’m sorry” *cue her kissing all over your face*

I’m in love with her

Dae-ho

*sigh* I love him

Dude has four sisters so you are in luck

He definitely knows what to do

Gives you so much cuddles

He’s probably extra clingy to you during this time but if you tell him you want space he definitely respects it

If you’re having cramps he’ll give you tummy rubs 😔

I need him so bad wjdvjwwjwdjwkwj

Lowkey gets a bit freaked out when you start having mood swings

So he’s definitely careful with what he says not that he could ever hurt your feelings anyways

Is there to comfort you when you start crying over dumb stuff and NEVER makes fun of you for it

Gets you all your favorite snacks!!!

Ugh I need him

Myung-gi

Lowkey avoids you at first

Confused pt.2

He gets the hang of it pretty quickly tho

“Are you on your period” pt.2

Slapped pt.2

Poor boy didn’t even mean it in a bad way he was just genuinely curious 😞

Secretly looks up what to do

You guys binge watch shows together the whole day while cuddling

Try’s not giggle if you start crying over the show

And if you see him laughing it only makes you cry more

“No no Jagiya I’m sorrrryyy”

*Kisses your face till you stop crying*

Besides the laughing part he’s not a terrible person to have 👍

Jun-ho

Gives you your space

Kinda just lets you do your own thing but if you specifically need something he’ll do it for you

He’s up for giving you cuddles but you gotta ask him cause he doesn’t wanna do anything to upset you :(

Weirdly calm about the whole thing

Sends you texts asking how you’re feeling throughout the day as he can’t be there with you the whole time due to his job

Very very patient when you have mood swings

Buys you food pt.3

Overall not too bad

Hyun-ju

She definitely knows what to do

Very educated

Cuddles pt.4!!!!!!

Does everything she possible can to make you feel better cause she hates seeing you in pain

If somebody upsets you she will personally go and deal with them herself girl doesn’t play around

Constantly checks up on you asking if there’s anything she can do

Literally never makes you cry

She’s so gentle with you 🙁

10/10 person to have when your on your period

a/n: I hope you guys enjoyed! This was a lot of fun to make!! Please send in requests because I don’t know what you guys want to read 😔

[cosmic-spoons]

One time back when I was trying to convince myself that I could still date people, my bf at the time asked to go grocery shopping with me. He lived about 40 min away and I could not FATHOM why he wanted to drive that long and waste that much time and gas just to do what I considered a stressful chore. It was already a drag, and him being there to distract me would def make it take longer than it needed to be. I couldn't imagine having any kind of meaningful conversation or fun well I blue-screened staring at a box of cereal for 5 minutes before ultimately deciding not to buy it. What could he possibly get out of that? I asked him why he wanted to be there, and he said "because we're dating?" like it should have been obvious. It was in that moment that I realized allo people really do want to share nearly every waking moment with each other, that's not a hyperbole or a joke. I could never drive 40 minutes just to grocery shop with him, it already takes a Monumental amount of effort to get me to the store that's 5 minutes away. I didn't want to waste his time.

Oh...but it's not a waste of time for him, is it? There's a missing component of the equation here that I'm completely blind to. So blind, in fact, that he broke up with me over it. I was trying to be considerate like with all of my other friends, but apparently being considerate is actually rude in romance sometimes. Absolutely fascinating.

this is really weird but part of my aroace experience is viewing allo people like a scientist would view a living specimen in an experiment

its like. they do something and i observe and note their behavior. i know this sounds super fucked up but here is something that happened today:

my sister was showing me her texts from her boyfriend and he was saying stuff like "if u want i can spray a shirt with my cologne to give to u" or "i'll give u my hoodie to wear"

and i just looked at her and said "people exchange clothes because they like each others scent? fascinating." and i felt like a freaking scientist observing a new species' behavior. i promise its not as weird as it sounds. im not uncomfortable with romance/sex (for other people), i just have no idea how it works.

im curious do any other aspecs have experiences like this? or is it just me?

[munsonsmixtapes]

hello! if you have the time could you please write soft Eddie guiding a shy reader when they make out for the first time?

There's a knock on Eddie's door and he hurries to answer it, hoping it's who he thinks it is. He isn't expecting anyone else, but it's not uncommon for people to show up looking to buy from him, but he really hopes it's you. He's been looking forward to tonight for over a week since you suggested it. He opens the door and there you are, beautiful as ever.

He steps aside and you plant a soft kiss on his cheek as you enter the trailer. You hold out a DVD and a few of Eddie's favorite snacks and he can't help but smile at how sweet you are. You've only been on a few dates and hopes he wouldn't scare you off if he proposed. Because if he's being honest, he can't see himself with anyone else.

No one he's dated has ever been so sweet to him. All they seemed to be interested in was using him for his body and rarely anything else. He wasn't really known as Eddie "the freak" Munson (well, maybe in other ways) anymore, but it still seemed like people didn't want anything else from him besides drugs or sex.

But you? All you seem to want from him is his company, genuinely interested in all of his fun facts that he has about random subjects and you even laugh at his jokes. And they aren't pity laughs either. You're a breath of fresh air and he hopes you'll stick around forever.

"You didn't have to do all this," he tells you with a smile as he takes the stuff from you. You're staring down at the floor and he can tell you're getting shy on him again. He doesn't mind, though. He thinks it's cute.

"Of course I did," you insist. "I wanted to treat you for once," you then smile and Eddie never gets tired of seeing it.

"Well I'm not going to say no to that," he responds then takes you by the hand, threading his fingers through yours. "Now c'mon."

You follow him over to the couch and the two of you sit together, but you make sure to leave a little space to be polite. You want to be cuddled up into his side, though. You want rest your head on his chest as his hand lazily runs up and down your back.

A lot of the people you've out with all seemed to be after one thing so it warms your heart that Eddie is willing to go at your pace. He always waits for you to initiate things like hugs or kisses and waits until you pull away, never asking for more. He's nothing but a gentleman and you really like spending time with him.

Eddie spreads out all of the movies you brought, his eyebrows quirking at the variety. You seem to have an eclectic taste and he admires that. He plucks the horror movie from the selection and heads over to the VCR. As soon as his back is turned, you begin to panic. You had only brought the movie to give you excuse to get close to him because of the scary scenes, but now you're beginning to regret your decision.

Eddie turns back to you and you try to hide your fear, debating on telling him that you'd rather watch something else, but you can't yourself to form the words. So you just sit in silence as Eddie moves back over to the couch, sitting even closer to you now and your fear takes over as you throw yourself into his arms.

Eddie lets out a laugh at your eagerness but he wraps his arms around you anyway, pulling you even closer to him as he turns his head towards the screen. You instantly feel better knowing that he'll keep you safe but can't help but think about what Steve told you when he rented the movie out to you.

He told you that it was the scariest movie he'd ever seen and that he couldn't sleep for days afterwards. And you rented it anyway even though he had suggested many more options that weren't nearly as scary and would still help you get into Eddie's arms despite how silly he thought the idea was.

The movie hasn't even started and you're already burying your head into his chest, gripping his shirt in your fists as tight as possible. His hand moves up to stroke the back of your head as he murmurs something to you that you can't quite hear.

"Hey, hey," he says as grabs hold of your face, forcing you to look him in the eye. His are nothing but soft as they look at you, his eyebrows knitting together in concern. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," you shake your head, suddenly feeling silly for how scared you just were. "It's nothing."

"We don't have to watch the movie," he tells you. "If you were scared, why didn't you say something?" It's a fair question, but you stay silent, not wanting to tell him the truth.

"I-" you start to say but cut yourself off, not wanting to admit the truth nor finding the right words to use.

"You what, honey?" He asks, his hands moving up and down your back exactly the way you wanted him to. Sometimes you're convinced he's a mind reader.

"I just wanted an excuse to cuddle you," you tell him, your voice so soft he almost didn't hear you. And at that, Eddie lets out a laugh before pulling you to his chest, giving you a tight squeeze. You have to remind yourself that he's not laughing at you, but because of you.

"You could have just cuddled me," he says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world and it is. Well, it should be, but you've always found it hard to voice what you want no matter how badly you want it.

"How about we call off the movie for now?" He asks and turns off the TV then pulls you closer to him, his hands still moving up and down your back. You look up at him as he licks his lips, now unable to think about anything but how inviting they look.

The two of you have kissed multiple times, but it's never gone any farther than little pecks here and there because you've been too afraid to do any more than that. But now you feel the need to go all the way, wondering what he tastes like, if his hair is as soft as it looks.

But you've never made out with anyone and that scares you. Even though you know for sure that Eddie would talk you through it, the whole thing still makes you feel nervous. But apparently not nervous to forget it completely because before you can stop yourself, you're looking up at Eddie, gulping before getting his attention.

"Eddie?" You ask and his head turns to you, those honey eyes boring into yours. You melt under his gaze but trying to muster up the confidence again.

"Hm?" He asks, that stupid smirk making its way upon his face, the same one that's always there when he looks at you.

"Can-" you cut yourself off for the second time tonight but Eddie just sits there, patient as ever as he waits for you to speak. He knows how hard it can get sometimes for you to speak your mind so he doesn't mind waiting for you to finish your thoughts. "Can I have a kiss?"

"Of course you can," he responds, taking your face in his hands and pecking your lips once, twice, three times before pulling away only for you to grumble in response.

"No," you shake your head. "I want a real kiss."

"Oh," he replies, wondering what made you decide on that, but wanting to oblige. He's willing to give you whatever you ask.

His hands move down to neck, his thumbs rubbing back and forth across your jaw as he leans in again, his lips slowly capturing yours as they move together slowly. He's nothing but gentle as he kisses you, showing you how it's done.

Your hands press against his chest and all you can think about how you can't believe you've gone so long without his lips attached to yours. They're nothing but soft and gentle and now you're sure that you can do this for hours.

Eddie breaks away before you're ready and you're breathing hard as you try to catch your breath. He stares down, a chuckle falling from his lips as he presses his forehead to yours.

"You're supposed breathe, baby," he tells you softly and you feel your cheeks heat.

"Can we try that again?" You ask as you pick up one of his curls, twirling it around your pointer finger, staring down at it as you speak again. "Do you think we could...make out? I promise to breathe this time."

"Oh, honey," he sighs before pressing a kiss to you lips. "I'd love to make out with you." Another and another until he's capturing your lips again, taking the lead again. You have no idea what you're doing but Eddie is being nothing but a sweetheart as he guides you through it.

He pulls away again and you whine this time at the absence of his lips, chasing him and getting in another quick kiss before you sit back, waiting for him.

"Do you want to sit in my lap?" He suggests. "I think that'll be more comfortable for you."

Eddie sits with his back against the couch and you do as he suggests and straddle his waist which feels foreign to you but he's right. It's much more comfortable. Your arms wrap around his neck as his rest on the small of your back, a good spot between your waist and upper back because this is just kissing and he doesn't want to give you the impression that he's going to go any farther.

"You kiss me now," he says and your heart races in your chest as you think about fucking it all up.

"Are you sure?" You ask, bringing your bottom lip between your teeth, nibbling on it as you contemplate.

"Positive," he nods. "You've got this. Do whatever you want, baby. This is all about you."

"Okay," you nod, leaning forward and slotting your lips just like he did, Eddie immediately responding to you but he's moving at your pace instead of leading like he previously had.

You remember to breath through your nose as your fingers thread into his hair on each side of his head. His hair is normally off limits because people get too rough with it, but with you, he doesn't care. In fact, he loves when you play with his hair, a little bit of love sprinkles into every touch of it.

"You're doing so good, honey," he murmurs against your lips. "Do you want to try sticking your tongue in my mouth?"

"Please," you whine with a yank of his hair and if you can feel his cock hardening underneath you, you don't say anything. And thank god for that.

"Do you want me to show you first?"

"Yes," you breath against his lips and he's getting even more hard, knowing that he's going to have to get himself off later because there's no way he's going to expect you to go all the way right now.

Eddie captures your lips again as his hands rest against your waist, landing on the strip of skin where your shirt has ridden up. His lips are moving against you to warm you up and then he gingerly flicks his tongue against your bottom lip.

"Open up," he commands against your lips and you do as he says, opening up for him as he slides his tongue into your mouth. He swirls his tongue around yours and you mimic his actions, tugging on his hair as a moan falls from your lips at the feeling of his tongue moving with yours.

Your eyes widen and you can't help but pull away as you suddenly feel embarrassed at the sound you've just made. Eddie, though? Eddie's convinced that's the hottest thing he's ever heard and he really wants you to make it again.

"You don't have to be embarrassed," he says quickly, trying his best to assure you. "It was really hot, actually."

"It was?"

"Definitely," he nods. "Would it help if you made me moan too?" All you can do is nod and before he can say anything else, your lips are on his, only a few seconds passing before your tongue is flicking against his bottom lip. He opens up immediately and you mimic what he just showed you, your tongue swirling around his as you pulling on his hair even harder, a loud moan falling from his lips.

You haven't thought about it until now since you were so caught up in his kisses, but you're soaking wet between your legs and if you had more confidence, you'd ask Eddie to take care of you, but you don't so you don't. You don't think you're ready for that right now anyway.

You try to focus on the taste of him to get your mind off of it. He tastes like cigarettes that you know he smoked before you came over and you don't know why but you can't get enough of it. It's intoxicating.

You stay like that for a while until your lips are kiss bitten and your legs are asleep from you straddling him for too long. You both decide to call it a night and Eddie walks you to your car like the gentleman he is, kissing you one more time before you drive away. He then goes back inside and heads to his room where he collapses onto his bed, deciding that he's probably (definitely) in love with you.

[treesbian]

i'm homeless right now. i'm lucky to be confident that it will be resolved eventually, but my family and i have been moving around to hotels since dec 19th.

and it just really, really sucks because i want to help my friends in gaza, but i can't spare anything at all right now. i really can't afford anything but what my family needs to have for food and shelter.

i'm lucky to have shelter, i'm lucky to be homeless in a hotel with the confidence that it will at some point be resolved, i'm lucky that $300 dollars can buy me more supplies than just a bag of flour, i'm lucky to not worry about being injured or killed in a war zone. yousef and mona and their one year old alaa are homeless, in a tent, in gaza. to be honest i'm not sure how much a bag of flour is right now, the price keeps rising and rising. i'm so angry at wealthy people doing nothing. i know most of you are like me, working in retail or restaurants and making maybe around $300 in a full work week, if that.

if you're confident that you will survive the week, or until your next payday, even after sending some money away, please help this family.

vetted here

10 kr is 94 cents usd, please mind the conversion rate

[tumblehcendrum]

I OBJECT.

I talk socialism and all that shit, but if we live together, this man will not be washing any dishes.

Because I am buying a dishwasher the second I get in.

It sanitizes dishes to a level literally inaccessible for a human on a biological level (you can only wash your way through a first degree burn for so long) and it does so while using so little water that even your power bills will be lower overall because that's how much less water you need to heat up. And you can easily find a way to have one in your house for a buck per day of the year or less, meaning if in that year it saves you twenty minutes a day you'll have paid under three bucks for every hour it saved you - and I like to think the socialist circles will value an hour of work at a lot more than three bucks. And this without considering that for sharing the dishwashing workload to have ever been brought up it means there's multiple people to split the expense between - and that, again, it saves water and power, so it eventually repays itself anyway.

"But then it just moves to pre-rinsing the dishes-" no it doesn't because you don't have to prerinse your dishes stop doing that just plonk the largest food blobs in the bin the dishwasher already does a pre-wash cycle for you. If it's ever not enough just put some detergent in that little pocket next to the sealed one (or if you don't have it on the door itself) and hey presto.

Really, I cannot overstress how little sense it makes to not have a dishwasher in any situation that isn't "I'm one such expense away from the sidewalk" or "I'm moving within three months and don't want/need a dishwasher there".

Dishwashers. Wohoo!

[moralesluvr]

FABLE AND TRUTH 2 | billie eilish

୧ ‧₊˚ love was the law & religion was taught…. ↳ summary: you had always been raised on being poise, feminine, classy. but what was most important to your family was your religion— and it had embroidered itself into your daily life. but when it’s time to pick between feelings and faith, which will you choose? pairings & aus. billie eilish x fem!reader warnings. religious backgrounds & guilt | mature language | sexual content | substance use author's note. chapter two is here !!! wc. 5.4k

you could not stand drunk people. 

well, unless they were your best friends. 

after emma had dragged you out of the party, she stumbled against you, babbling on loosely about how some guy at the party was trying to flirt with her— and in less harsh words than her own, he wasn’t the most attractive. 

he had begged her for a dance and even offered to buy her as many drinks as she wanted, whatever the price— but she kept politely refusing. until he grabbed her and tried to kiss her, which definitely ended with his hand over a bruised and bloody nose, and every single curse word under the sun had come from emma’s mouth. 

oliver was nowhere to be found, but he’d checked in on the life360 that he was at some guy’s house, and that’s really all you needed to know. 

jules and naomi stubbornly filed out of the house soon after you and emma retreated to your car, the red-head fanning herself as she slumped over the front seat, “oh m’gosh…y-y/n….think i’m literally gonna fuckin’ hack right about now.” 

you let out a quiet groan as the car door opened, your two remaining friends falling into the backseat and carelessly tossing their purses into the empty passenger one. naomi held her head, while jules tried to cover her stained lips with a tattooed palm, “h-hey…we couldn’t find you…at all.” 

you couldn’t even be annoyed at them for being intoxicated, because you were the one that promised you’d attend the party, only as the designated driver. and you being you, you were always there for a friend in need, especially the people that you loved oh so dearly. so you cranked your car up, turning your queued worship music down, sliding your right arm over the passenger seat to back up, “guys, please please do not throw up in my car. i just cleaned it!” 

that statement earns painful groans from the three girls in the back, holding their stomachs as you sped off and onto the main road, carefully. you placed both hands on the wheel and tried to drive as slowly and heedful as you could, partially afraid that the night would end with vomit on your undyed seats and lipstick stains on your seat covers. but you took a deep sigh and looked in the rearview mirror, “anyone feel like they need to pull over right about now? please tell me now, i don’t really feel like cleaning throw up.”

“please….the diner on….just pull over.” jules swallows thickly, and you watch as the other two bold-haired girls nod at her statement in agreement. you swivel into a turning lane abruptly, tired eyes fixated on the sign that reads “GINA’S DINER.” it’s quick the way you pull into a spot, apologizing for how recklessly you turned into a spot— but you really needed to make sure that no one was going to ruin your clean car. 

you all file out, naomi nearly falling as they all hurriedly make their way towards the door, their heels clacking against the pavement as you locked your car and followed them in. 

a bell above you makes your appearance known, and you give the lady at the front an awkward, slightly apologetic wave. she doesn’t understand your gesture until she sees naomi, jules and emma rush towards the bathroom, stomachs clutched and faces washed with sickly expressions. 

“fun night, hm?” she asks you, southern accent so strong that you almost can’t understand what she’s saying. you just shrug at her, slipping into a front booth as you pull out your phone, eyes droopy and slightly achy. there’s a Bible notification, and you can’t help but smile, even in the midst of all this. it’s a verse from psalms, something about finding refuge in the Lord during chaos. you could definitely use that right about now. 

you tuck your phone into your lap and breathe deeply, letting the soft hum of the diner soothe your nerves. the air smells like coffee, bacon grease, and syrup, the kind of mix that shouldn’t be comforting, but is.

your friends are loud even from the distant, dingy bathroom, their laughter carrying through the thin walls as they recover from the night’s bad decisions, and it’s all masked quickly as you hear three in tune gags. 

you shake your head. 

emma’s voice cuts through the noise, something about how she could’ve totally taken that guy out even harder if she wasn’t wearing heels. jules and naomi laugh, and you imagine their glossy lips curling into wide smiles, mascara smudged and carefree.

“refuge in the Lord,” you mumble to yourself, tracing the edge of the laminated menu on the table, your finger settled on a plate of hash browns that mistakenly look like a cross, but you’re sure that it’s a sign. you smile to yourself as a waitress approaches— mid-50s, with tired eyes but a warm smile. “long night, sweetheart?” she asks, pouring water into a glass in front of you.

“you have no idea,” you reply with a small chuckle, rubbing the back of your neck. “but they’re my people, you know? i love them with all my heart.” 

the waitress smiles knowingly, nodding toward the bathroom. “i get it, honey. not many would be the driver for that crowd, y’know, but you’ve got something sweet on you. you’re a kind soul, i can tell.” 

you laugh, genuinely this time, glancing toward the bathroom door to make sure that they’re still in there, “thank you. and yeah, they’re a mess, but they’re my mess. couldn’t go through life without them.” 

she doesn’t really respond. she just places a coffee cup in front of you, even though you didn’t order it, and pats your hand sweetly,  “on the house, sweetheart. looks like you could use it.”

the warmth of the mug grounds you as you watch the bathroom door finally swing open, after what felt like absolute years. your friends spill out, looking slightly less disheveled, faces cleaned up but eyes still glinting with the remnants of the night’s mischief. they weave through the diner, collapsing into the booth with you like puzzle pieces falling into place.

“dude, holy shit,” emma groans, leaning her head back against the booth. “that bathroom was a war zone. i honestly deserve a real-life award for surviving it.”

“you deserve an award for not throwing up in my car.” you deadpan, and that earns a round of weak laughter, the waitress sharing a portion of it as she disappears into the back. you were serious, but your joke was light-hearted, and you slump your head against the cool surface of the table, letting it sooth your slight headache. 

“should we order pancakes?” naomi blurts, her lipstick hastily reapplied, and she cracks open a mirror to set it with a thick, pinky gloss, “i think we all need some pancakes.”

“and hashbrowns!” jules adds, pointing at the menu as if you’re about to argue. it was late— nearly three o’ clock in the morning, and you refused to drive these girls home and pay for a meal you knew they’d only eat half of before hauling to the bathrooms again. 

you just shake your head, sipping the coffee. it’s too bitter for your liking, but the caffeine jolts you enough to sit up a little straighter, “fine, but one of you better be paying. you guys are driving me absolute nuts.” 

emma’s hand shoots up dramatically, her movements still a little sluggish, but way better than before. “it’s all on me. it’s the least i can do after saving my own dignity from that creep earlier.”

you raise an eyebrow at her as naomi and jules snort, “pretty sure dignity doesn’t include nearly breaking someone’s nose, em. that was mean.”

“oh no, you weren’t there. he completely deserved that shit.” she says firmly, twirling her finger in the air like she’s drawing a halo over her head.

you lean back, letting their chatter wash over you like background music. emma’s wild stories, jules’s dry wit, naomi’s quiet observations— they all blend into something that feels like home. you’d never say it aloud, but moments like these are what make the late nights and exhausted mornings worth it.

still, as you glance at the phone in your lap and reread the verse from psalms, there’s a nagging thought in the back of your mind. something about balance. about faith. about how these nights with your friends, full of chaos and laughter and the occasional Bible verse for grounding, somehow fit into your life.

you love them. and you love God. but sometimes, it feels like both are pulling you in opposite directions, but tonight, in this diner, they coexist. the coffee is too bitter, the pancakes will probably be disgustingly dry, and your friends are a complete mess, but for now, it’s enough for you.

before the food comes, the three girls beside you decide that they need to make sure their stomachs are empty enough to eat, so they all get up, rushing to the bathroom and leaving you with just your thoughts. you distract yourself with some game on your phone before the bell above the door jingles again, and you glance up absentmindedly, thinking it’s just another group of drunk strangers coming in for some late-night pancakes. but it’s not. it’s billie.

and she’s stumbling. horribly. 

“oh, please kill me,” you mutter under your breath, straightening in your seat. as if on cue, emma, jules, and naomi all file out the bathroom, turning to look, their chatter dying down as they notice her too. she’s wearing extremely oversized jeans and a tank top that clings to her in a way that feels like it should be illegal, her hair slightly tousled, like she’s been through a windstorm— or, more accurately, a stupidly wild party. 

she’s got a girl and two guys with her, but they venture off somewhere else to slip quarters into an old jukebox, cursing loudly when they realize that the device is way outdated. you snort. you thought that was obvious. 

“isn’t that your girl?” emma teases, leaning over the table with a sly grin. she pokes your shoulder and you immediately shove her off, your cheeks hot and angry with a blush that blossoms to the rest of your body. 

“she’s not my girl, don’t say that.” you hiss, your but your statement’s really all bark no bite, per usual. but your heart skips a beat when billie looks up and locks eyes with you, her face lighting up in a way that’s both charming and disarming.

she weaves through the tables with all the grace of a baby deer, her steps uneven but determined to get to you. she drawls, her voice low and slightly slurred, “what are you doin’ here, angel?”

“billie…” you sigh, your voice tinged with exasperation and a little disappointment. after your conversation at the party, you had assumed that she wasn’t the type of girl to get drunk and stumble around, and it hurt you a little bit to realize that you were mistaken. 

“oh, don’t ‘billie’ me,” she says, sliding into the booth beside you, much too close for comfort. the scent of tequila and her vanilla perfume hits you like a wave, and you lean back instinctively, pressing into the seat. but she mimics your actions, her shoulder pressed against yours as she slurs, badly. 

“you’re drunk.” you point out, trying to keep your voice steady, but it’s broken. your skin’s hot and furious, and you can’t quite place why— all you know is that you’re mostly disappointed. your friends’ voices grow silent as they watch your encounter with the dark haired girl, and she just shrugs her shoulders at you nonchalantly. 

“m’kay,” billie drags, looking up at you with soft, hazy eyes, and you swallow thickly, “maybe a little.” 

she admits she’s had a little too much to drink, flashing you a lopsided grin. her finger comes up to boop your nose, but she’s so intoxicated that it misses it by an inch.  “but m’not too drunk to notice how cute you look right now.”

your friends exchange looks, barely suppressing their laughter. emma actually has the audacity to nudge jules, whispering something that makes them both giggle, and you feel embarrassed. you shoot them a glare, but it’s hard to focus when billie’s gaze is fixed on you like you’re the only person in the entire diner.

“billie,” you say again, this time softer, almost pleading her to stop making you look stupid in front of your girls, “you should…you should just go sit over there.” you gesture vaguely to the empty booth across from you, but she doesn’t budge.

“nah,” she says, resting her chin in her hand as she looks at you, and you take a good look at her, your eyes involuntarily narrowing. she looks like she’s been through it— skin glossy but dull, lips chapped and dry, her voice croaked and broken. she’s slow with her movements as she sinks further into the chair, “i’m good right….right here.”

your pulse quickens, and you don’t know if it’s from annoyance, embarrassment, or something else entirely. “billie, you’re making this really weird.” you mumble, your fingers gripping the edge of the table to keep yourself from touching her. 

“weird?…h-how’s it weird?” billie leans in slightly, her voice dropping to a playful whisper, “i’m just complimenting you, angel. that’s not a sin, now is it?”

your stomach twists uncomfortably at the mention of sin. of course, that’s where your mind goes. because everything about this feels…complicated. billie’s close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off her skin, and her eyes— bright and mischievous— make it hard to think straight. you just want her to go away, to disappear and never look back, to literally never utter a single word to you ever again. but she’s persistent, almost taunting you with her presence, and it’s like you can’t take your eyes off her no matter how hard you try. 

you hate this. you hate it a lot. you close your eyes, thinking and hoping that if you pray it hard enough, she’ll go away. like she’s an illusion, a ghost that’s just here for a distraction. but when you open your eyes, she’s still there, eyes fixated on you as she waits for an answer. 

“it’s not a sin, but…” you mutter, looking away from her gaze, eyes fighting to focus on something else, anything else, “…you’re drunk. you don’t really mean any of this.” 

“who says i don’t?” she shoots back, and for a moment, her tone isn’t teasing. it’s serious, almost challenging, and you want to just get up and walk out. but you can’t. 

your breath catches, and you’re grateful when the waitress comes back with your friends’ pancakes, breaking the tension. billie doesn’t move, though. she just keeps looking at you, like she’s waiting for you to say something.

“billie,” you try again, your voice softer now. “please. just…sit over there, okay? we can talk when you’re sober.”

she hesitates, her eyes searching yours, and for a moment, you think she might argue with you. but then she sighs, running a hand through her hair. “fine.” she says, dragging herself to her feet. “but only ‘cause you asked so nicely…so, see you around…”

she winks lazily at you before sliding into the booth across the aisle, and your cheeks burn as your friends erupt into laughter the second she’s out of earshot. your head turns sharply to look at them, and you feel your eyes swell with tears. 

“oh, my goodness, y/n,” emma says, clutching her stomach, mostly because she isn’t sure if she’s gonna throw up, but also because she’s containing so much laughter, “you were soooo red. dudette, she’s totally into you!”

“please, emma. stop it. she’s not.” you protest weakly, your voice barely audible over the girls’ laughter.

but the truth is, you don’t know if that’s true. and worse, you don’t know how you feel about it.

as you sip your coffee and avoid looking in billie’s direction, your phone buzzes again with another verse. this time, it’s one about temptation. you let out a shaky breath and close your eyes, trying to steady yourself, making sure your friends don’t see your tears. but they’re too busy laughing and digging into their food to pay it any mind, and you rest your head down, hoping you could just disappear. to go anywhere— to run and never look back, to hide, to forget everything that just happened in the past five minutes. 

the diner feels like it’s shrinking in on you, like the walls are closing in around you with every passing second. billie’s presence is magnetic— whether you’re looking at her or not, you can feel her. the way her arm drapes over the back of her booth, her carefree laugh echoing as she chats with the waitress, her eyes flicking toward you every now and then, and you always look away before your eyes can meet. it’s maddening.

your friends are still teasing you, of course— they won’t let anything go until it’s dragged out and so annoying that even they can’t stand it any longer. 

jules is practically doubled over with laughter, her face flushed as she wipes at her eyes. “y/n, be so fuckin’ for real right now,” she says between giggles, lightly tapping naomi on the shoulder to tune in, “you cannot tell me she wasn’t flirting with you.” 

“she’s drunk,” you speak again, your voice firm but your cheeks still hot. you wipe your eyes with your sleeve discreetly, blaming it on the air conditioning too high for your sensitive eyes. you sniffle, “it doesn’t mean anything.” 

“uh-huh,” naomi chimes in, smirking as she picks at her stack of pancakes with her fork, “right. and i’m the queen of england. both those things don’t make any sense.” 

emma, who’s been quiet up until now, leans over the table with a knowing look, like she can read something even you can’t. sometimes you despised that— you despised your friendship lasting so long that she could tell what you’re feeling before you even know yourself. she pauses, then gives you wide eyes, “hey…you like her, don’t you?”

“emma, no!” the denial is almost instant, too quick to sound convincing, even to your own ears. 

but you’re sure. 

no matter what, this is utterly wrong, for so many reasons. it’s nothing you’ve ever desired before, and it’s not right, and it’s just something that happens when you see people that are almost unearthly beautiful. man, woman— everyone has eyes, and everyone that can see knows that billie is drop dead gorgeous. but that doesn’t mean anything, it can’t. and it won’t. 

emma gasps dramatically, clutching her chest like she’s been shot, “oh, my gosh! you like the emo girl!”

“i don’t,” you insist, groaning as you bury your face in your hands, “can we please talk about something else?”

“fine,” emma says, but the smirk on her face tells you she’s not letting this situation go anytime soon, “but we’re circling back to this later, girlfriend— just so you know.”

you glance over at billie, hoping she’s too wrapped up in her own world to notice the chaos unfolding at your table, and definitely hoping that emma doesn’t see you do it. but of course, billie catches your eye and grins, her lips curling in that way that makes your stomach turn in on itself. 

you look away almost immediately, focusing on your untouched and horrible coffee. it’s lukewarm now, but you sip it anyway, hoping the bitterness will ground you a little bit. you find yourself caught in your thoughts until naomi taps your shoulder, making sure that emma and jules are too goofed off to notice. 

“y/n,” she says softly, her tone more serious now, “are you okay?”

you nod, even though you’re not sure it’s true. you hated to lie, but it wasn’t any of her business, and you didn’t even know exactly how you were feeling. you huff, “yeah, i’m just…tired.”

that much, at least, is honest. the night feels like it’s been stretched out for days on end, and the weight of everything— your faith, your friends, billie —sits heavy on your chest. you just want to fall into your bed and stay there forever, resting until the sun rises and falls a million times. 

“we should head out soon,” you say, glancing at your phone. it’s horribly late into the night now, and you know you’ll feel this exhaustion in your bones tomorrow.

but before you can usher your friends toward the door, billie stands up from her booth and strolls over to you, and you genuinely want to push her out of the way. but it isn’t like you, it never has been— so you stand idle in your spot by the jukebox, watching billie’s movements that are still a little unsteady, but her confidence is unwavering.

“y/n,” she says, her voice softening, “you leaving without saying goodbye?”

emma snorts, and you shoot her a warning look before turning your attention back to billie, “we were…um…. just about to head out,” you say, keeping your tone neutral. whatever emotion you show, it’ll be talked about in the car, so you try to remain as stoic as humanly possible.

“hmm,” she hums, tilting her head as she studies you. “you sure you’re okay? you’ve been awfully quiet tonight.”

“i’m fine,” you reply quickly, but your voice betrays you, coming out more flustered than you intended.

“you don’t look fine,” billie says, leaning down so her face is level with yours. her proximity makes your heart race, and you’re painfully aware of how close she is— close enough that you can see the faint freckles dusting her nose, close enough that her breath fans against your cheek as you shut your eyes, exhaling slowly to keep yourself calm. she giggles, “well…you do look fine, but—“ 

“billie,” you interrupted, your voice barely above a whisper. “you should sit down. or…go home.”

“maybe,” she says, but she doesn’t move. instead, she smiles, sweet and almost…tender. “but…. not before i tell you something.”

your breath catches, and you feel your friends’ eyes on you, the air around the table thick with anticipation.

“you’re…really something, y/n,” she says, her voice quiet but sincere, “i don’t know what it is, but…there’s just something about you. something good.”

the words hit you harder than they should, and you don’t know if it’s because she’s drunk or because she means it, or maybe even both.

“i—“ you start to say something but it’s too quiet, so you just start to rush out of the diner, embarrassment flooding your face as your friends attempt to follow you. but with the way they’re stumbling and how drunk they still are, their detour to the bathroom is definitely expected. 

as you step outside, the night air is sharp and biting, the cold shocking your heated face. you could stay in and wait, you think— but you don’t have the patience to, and you’re too embarrassed to walk back in and face whatever just happened to you. you’re starting to head to your car when you hear the door jingle opened, and you hope and pray that it’s your trio of girls, but you set your hopes a little too high. 

“y/n!” you hear billie call after you, her voice slurring slightly, but it’s the desperation in her tone that makes you really stop you in your tracks. you pause, half-turning, the diner’s fluorescent lights spilling out onto the sidewalk as billie’s figure emerges into view, her feet tripping over her own oversized clothes as she slumps against the run down, brick wall next to her. 

her jacket’s hanging loosely off one shoulder, hair messy but somehow still perfect in that careless way she always manages. she’s really out of breath, her hands on her hips as she steadies herself, and when her eyes meet yours, there’s a flicker of something calm, something sweet. caring. 

“you’re…really l-leaving?” she asks, tilting her head slightly, her voice dripping nectar as she looks at you, almost like she’s a little hurt at it. 

“yeah,” you reply, trying to keep your tone even, but it comes out shaky instead. typical.  

“i think i’ve had enough excitement for one night. i just want to go home and go to sleep.” 

billie takes a step closer, her jordan’s scuffing against the pavement. she’s hesitant before she speaks, “did i…did i say something wrong?”

the question catches you off guard, and you shake your head quickly. it wasn’t her at all, it was just how she made you feel. her words were too much for you, and the way she was acting— it made you squirm, it was bothersome, icky, awkward. you meet eyes with her from across the parking lot, and you shrug out, trying to get out of this predicament as quickly as you possibly could. 

 “no. it’s not that. i just—” you falter, crossing your arms over your chest, “i need some air.”

she nods slowly, her gaze dropping to the ground for a moment before she looks back up at you. “y/n, i wasn’t trying to make you uncomfortable. i-i just…sometimes i say things when i’ve had a little too much, but that doesn’t mean i don’t mean them.”

your heart skips a beat at her honesty, and you take a step back, trying to put some distance between the two of you.

“billie, you’re really drunk.” you say, your voice barely above a whisper, and the distance between the two of you that you created falls useless as billie steps closer, almost not hearing what you’ve said. 

“yeah, i am drunk,” she admits, a soft laugh escaping her lips, “but that doesn’t mean i’m lying.”

you look away, staring at the empty parking lot as if it’ll give you the answers you’re so desperately searching for. you run your fingers through the ends of your hair, fighting to keep calm. the only reason you don’t walk away and leave is because your friends are still in the bathroom. 

can they hurry up? 

“i don’t know what you want me to say,” you admit finally, your voice cracking slightly as you let out a choked, awkward laugh. 

“i don’t want you to say anything,” billie replies, stepping closer until she’s just a few feet away. “i just…i needed you to know that. you’re cool…y/n…there’s just something about you that....”

the confession leaves you speechless, your chest tightening as you try to process her words. she’s so close now that you can smell the faint scent of whiskey on her breath, mixed with something sweet that’s uniquely her.

“please, enough.” 

“i’ll stop,” she says quickly, holding her hands up in surrender. “i swear. i just—needed to get it out, you know? but i’ll stop now. sorry.” 

before you can respond, the diner door swings open behind you, and emma stumbles out, her arm slung around naomi’s shoulder as jules trails behind them, shoving a tube of lipstick in your bag. 

“ahh, there you are!” emma says, her voice loud and cheerful despite her disheveled state, “we thought you left us.”

you force a smile, grateful for the timely distraction, “just needed some air.”

emma’s eyes flick between you and billie, and her lips curve into a knowing smirk, “well, don’t let us interrupt! we’ll be on our way.” 

“emma.” you hiss, shooting her a glare, but she just laughs and waves you off, heading toward the car with naomi and jules in tow.

you turn back to billie, who’s watching you with an expression you can’t quite read, but you don’t have the energy to figure it out. you’re so tired and upset that you just walk away, leaving billie slumped against the brick walls of the diner’s exterior, hair wildly flowing in the wind as she watches you slip into your car, cranking the engine and pulling off and away. 

you really think you could cry right now. 

jules, naomi, and emma eventually fall asleep in the back, and you fight to stay awake the last five minutes of the drive as you start to drop everyone off at their dorm rooms, or at least near them. and then it’s you and a sleeping emma, her snores syncopated with the barking of the wind outside, and you quickly park and roll your windows up, taking off your seatbelt to turn around and poke your best friend. 

“wake up.” you whisper, prodding at her bare shoulder as she stirs awake, swatting your hand like a fly. she mumbles into the cushions of your seats, “mmmhmm, like— five more minutes.”

“we’re here, emma. we have to go inside, i’m tired.” you whined, rolling your eyes. although she’s annoyed, she sits up, wiping her eyes with the back of her palm. a sleepy grin is wiped across her face as she puts her hand out to touch yours, “i am…so sorry…for dragging you everywhere across town. you’re the best, y’know that?” 

you just nod in a silent thanks, squeezing her hand before opening the door and getting out, emma copying your movements. 

the two of you step out into the cold, the wind biting at your skin as you shiver and wrap your arms around yourself. emma stumbles a little, still half-asleep, and you reach out instinctively to steady her.

“you good?” you ask, glancing at her.

“yeah, yeah,” she mumbles, waving you off. “just…y’know, trying to remember how to walk.”

you huff out a laugh, your breath visible in the chilly night air. together, you trudge toward the dorm entrance, the sound of your footsteps echoing in the quiet.

emma fishes around in her purse for her key, muttering under her breath about how she’s going to “kill the next guy who offers her tequila.” you lean against the doorframe, watching her with tired amusement until she finally triumphs, holding up the key like a trophy.

“victory is mine!” she whispers dramatically, pushing the door open and gesturing for you to go in first.

inside, the warmth is immediate, and you let out a small sigh of relief, slipping off your shoes. emma kicks off her heels with an exaggerated groan, stumbling toward the couch. she collapses onto it, sprawling out like she’s never been more comfortable in her life.

“you coming?” she asks, peeking one eye open as you hover near the door.

“nah,” you say, shaking your head. “i’m gonna head to bed. i’m beat.”

emma gives you a thumbs up, already halfway to sleep again as you make your way toward your room.

but when you close the door behind you and sink onto your bed, exhaustion doesn’t come like you thought it would. your body aches for rest, but your mind is still spinning, replaying everything from the night.

you sit there for a while, staring at the wall, before finally pulling out your journal from the drawer beside your bed. the pages are filled with your handwriting, verses, prayers, and thoughts you’ve poured out over time. it’s a place where you’ve always felt safe, where you’ve always been honest.

you open to a blank page, hesitating for a moment before you start to write:

“God, tonight was…confusing. I don’t know how to feel about any of it. I want to do the right thing. I want to honor You. But sometimes, I feel like I’m stuck in this constant battle between who I am and who I think I’m supposed to be.

I feel so much pressure to have everything figured out, to make the right choices, to be good. But what if I don’t always know what that looks like? What if I mess up?

I don’t want to disappoint You. I don’t want to disappoint myself. But I’m scared, and I’m tired, and I just don’t know what to do.”

you pause, the pen hovering over the page, before finishing with a shaky, “Please, help me understand.”

closing the journal, you let out a long breath, the weight of your words still heavy on your chest.

you crawl under the covers, curling up on your side as the wind howls outside. the room is quiet, but your mind is so loud, filled with a mix of doubt and hope and a little bit of fear. 

and as you finally drift off to sleep, you pray for clarity, for strength, for peace. because even if you don’t have all the answers, you’re holding on to the belief that they’ll come. at some point.

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[fandom-go-round]

Hello! If you're still taking requests, I'd really appreciate it if you could please write some headcanons about Emmrich, Lucanis, Neve and Bellara dating a Rook who has pretty significant burn scars, particularly on their back, stomach, legs, arms, hands or feet. The scars are healed now, but they still consider them unsightly so they try to cover up as much as possible. I'd love to see your take on their reaction to Rook's scars being revealed to them for the first time.

Burn scars also come with a lot of complications like having to keep them out of sunlight, they often get pretty itchy and since skin regulates body temperature you can get cold super easily if you have significant burns. So if you want to include any of those factors feel free!

As someone who legit cannot be trusted around hot liquids and has scars from 2nd degree burns, I'd appreciate it, but if you don't want to write something like this I understand. Thank you, and I hope your day is going well!

Thank you so much for a Dragon Age request! I had a lot of fun with it!

Warnings: Burns, Talk of Burns, Previous Injuries, Implied Low Self Esteem, Implied Body Issues

Emmrich Volkarin:

As someone who usually wears layers when out and about, Emmrich doesn’t notice right away you’re covered almost always. He thinks of it as a personal style, at least until you’re exposed to the cold. It only takes one instance of fighting a desire demon and your hands to shake so bad you can’t hold your weapon for him to wonder. He won’t ask you of course, especially when Harding asks if you’re alright and you deflect.

The first time he sees your burns himself, Emmrich has a lot of thoughts. He can tell that you’re uncomfortable, not meeting his eyes as you continue to make dinner. It’s the first time he’s seen you in short sleeves and without gloves; you had thought you were alone at the Lighthouse. He wonders where you got the wounds and how but instead, he apologizes for starling you and asks if he can help. You agree to let him help and it takes almost a full hour for the tension to leave your shoulders. Emmrich is happy to wait as long as possible for you to trust him.

The longer the two of you are together, the more you open up about your scars. Emmrich is willing to listen to anything you say and go at your own pace. He’ll go out of his way to buy you embroidered gloves that you adore and has no issues steering the others away from the topic. He’ll hesitate to touch your scars because he doesn’t want to hurt you but once you assure he can touch, he loves kissing your everywhere. Scars are a part of you but they don’t define you.

Lucanis Dellamorte:

He’s one of the first companions to notice, mostly because he has some burns himself. Not as wide spread as yours but Crow training wasn’t kind to him and he sees the way you favor warm over cold and how your legs get itchy after being in Rivani. Lucanis makes sure to cook warm meals and uses ingredients that help with itchiness. He’s a silent supporter from the beginning.

The extent of your scars makes hm angry. He has no way of knowing (at first) where your scars come from and assumes them to be a battle gone wrong. Spite often speaks of hunting the people down who hurt you and he’s inclined to agree. If he finds out the burns are because of an accident he’s going to hover more. If you’re this accident prone he’ll be your silent shadow so you don’t get hurt again. Tell him off if he hovers too much; Lucanis will find something else to help with.

He has no issues touching your scars but will make sure you’re alright with it first. He never wants to make you uncomfortable and watches for your verbal and nonverbal ques. Lucanis will do whatever he can to help you feel better; putting on ointment, buying you new clothing, whatever you’d like. He won’t let anyone talk down to you. He’s protective on a good day and if someone tries to say anything about your scars? His knife is already at their throat.

Bellara Lutare:

Bellara doesn’t realize you have burn scars until you take your coat off, wet from being slammed into the lake. It took her and Davrin combined to pull you out and you’re swearing up a storm as you strip. Davrin just teases you about losing your footing before going to find firewood. Bellara doesn’t catch herself staring until you turn away and she busies getting the camping set out.

She doesn’t bring the scars up until the two of you are alone, checking in. Mostly she wants to make sure you’re not in pain and if you are, she can make burn cream. Someone in her clan had burns like yours that bothered them. You’re surprised by her practical offer and kiss her cheek, thankful for her support. You take her up on the offer, especially when you end up on the coast. The hot air makes you super itchy.

It becomes a habit for her to help you put the burn cream on your back since it’s hard for you to reach. It’s a soft moment inside the normal day to day chaos. Bellara loves that you trust her enough to let her do this and gets to touch you. Her face is red by the end and you tease her but its worth all the teasing to see the soft look in your eyes. Once of these days she’s going to get her nerve to kiss you, she promises!

Neve Gallus:

Neve figured you were using clothing to cover up something. Most people don’t wear as many layers as you and it a toss up between scars or you really are that much trouble. The truth is, as always, a little bit of both. You naturally run cold but it’s more than that. The first time she sees your scars, she’ll admit she wasn’t expecting them. She knows that jobs can go wrong, she just wishes you were luckier.

She won’t talk about the scars unless you bring them up. She understands how it feels for others to judge you based on old wounds; she’s almost punched people because of her leg. Neve does go out of her way to get you warm drinks to hold and buys you long pants as yours get ruined. The detective side of her wants to know how you got the scars but she does her damnedest to keep those thoughts to herself.

Neve can’t help but kiss the scars when she can, almost without thinking. Clothes on or off, she’ll kiss the palm of your hand or rub your shoulder. Let her know if the touching is too much and she’ll back off. She accepts every part of you, scared or not. She likes the flustered look on your face, it isn’t often she throws you off. Neve can and will use it to her advantage.

[oya-oya-okay]

Just some chatter about Azul💌

Azul likes dark and narrow places because they make him feel calmer and relaxed, so he likes hoods and tents. He prefers to tighten his belt because he likes a form-fitting silhouette. He has a habit of putting shoes first on his right foot and then on his left (like superstition). Also he takes great care of his appearance, VERY MUCH. He uses delicious colognes and does light exercises in the morning. He doesn't like to sweat, but he does exercise anyway. And ALSO HE STRIVES to meet new people, really. He never misses a chance to use something to his advantage. He doesn't like to waste time and talent, so he works hard. He also thinks a lot about the future and therefore buys things that, in his opinion, will become much more expensive in the future (for example, coins)

He wonders how people can be fast (and walk a tightrope) with ONLY!!! TWO!!! LEGS!!!

He's so funny and sweet, I can't—

Also he wants to be noticed and remembered for all his work. He recognizes some of his weaknesses but he also knows his strengths, which he constantly improves, he really works hard on himself... He studies everything thoroughly and only then begins to act. He doesn't like to hope for luck, he wants to achieve everything by himself, so he usually doesn't accept gifts. When you compliment him, he's more likely to think that you want something from him heh (or is that at least how he jokes???) And he quite often compares the ocean and the land, it seems to me. And OMG remember that he has a talent - mental arithmetic

I'm not sure I've told you everything, just everything that came to my mind. But he loves his family very much and is proud of it, btw, he ate too much healthy food so he stopped liking it, SOMEONE SHUT ME UP—

[captainportgasdace]

Following this post from @teague-azrail, I will describe Ace’s personality in 3 words ❤️

Because why not making a whole post about it I just love posting about Ace okay

SO, Portgas D. Ace in 3 words?

LOYAL — When Ace gets attached to someone, he’s fully dedicated to it. For exemple, when he decided to join Whitebeard, he couldn’t accept Marshall (who became Blackbeard eventually) killing Thatch AND disrespecting Whitebeard’s name. He went after him despite the danger. Then, he couldn’t accept Akainu insulting his name and fought to the cost of his life to stay loyal to Whitebeard until his last breath.

It was also shown in the manga that, while on his mission to go after Blackbeard, he got the wrong guy and got beaten up and rescued by Moda, the farm girl. To thank her for rescuing him, Ace accept to deliver a letter to Moda’s parent, infiltrating the marines. In the end, he delivers the letter and the little family is happily reunited; because Ace kept his promise ❤️

KIND — This is my favorite point. Ace is one of the kindest characters of the whole One Piece universe. Even as a kid, Dadan wants to get rid of him at some point and STILL he helps her after their fight against Bluejam. Because even if Dadan wasn’t the greatest mother figure, she still took care of him and he’s grateful for it.

Of course, I will mention Ace’s novels as well. There is a part where Ace buy a LOT of crackers but see kids starving and he just gives away the snacks to them. Because he prioritize people before himself, he wants them to be happy when if he barely knows them.

When they arrived in Wano, immediately he got attached to Otama and wanted to help. He made hats with her so she can sell more and have more money, he made sure she had food. He so wanted to help the people of Wano, he REALLY did.

He also made a big hat for Oars Jr. because he wanted him to be well since he’s a giant and he’s close to the sun, that’s very thoughtful!

Also adding that he’s always very polite; apologizing to destroy a restaurent in Alabasta, saying thank you to the Straw Hats for looking after his baby brother.

FIERCE — The fact that Ace got the Flames devil fruit just makes sense because it matches his personality. He’s fierce and so determined to achieve his goals. How, at first, his goal was to take down Whitebeard and he fought him 100 times. Yeah, he lost. But he kept going again and again.

And before that, he decided to go after KAIDO? Boy, that’s big ambitions to go after TWO emperors.

So this concludes my post, I just felt like talking about Ace in a long ass post so if you stick with me until the end woah thank you haha ❤️

[maxdibert]

In my opinion, Albus Dumbledore is one of the most hypocritical and despicable characters in Harry Potter—if not the most. I find it outrageous that this old man dares to say he’s disgusted by Severus when he’s not all that different. My soul cringes at all the "greatness" surrounding him, and his whole "for the greater good" rhetoric feels like a cold shower, as if people have a moral obligation to die to save the world.

Severus, a mere pawn in the grand scheme of things, is disgusting because he joined the wrong side, but the great and kind Albus is a symbol of the resistance against evil—even though he was practically Grindelwald's right-hand man. This attitude of placing himself above someone like Severus is so infuriating.

Not to mention all the mental gymnastics he does, belittling and minimizing Severus’s trauma, making him seem crazy when he snapped in POA. Apparently, the past is only condemnable when it’s convenient.

My problem with Dumbledore goes way back, long before the whole thing with Severus even came into play. I already thought he was quite a self-righteous prick for claiming to care so much about people and then leaving Sirius Black to fend for himself. I mean, the whole situation with Sirius, Peter, and the Potters never sat right with me. Seriously, with all of them supposedly under his command—because he was the ultimate leader of the four—when Sirius is allegedly the culprit, Dumbledore just lets him go to Azkaban without even probing his mind to see what happened?

Having a supposed Voldemort ally, a double-agent serial killer, and you seriously don’t want to extract every piece of information from him? You’re not interested in investigating what really went down there? Or maybe he probably knew Sirius wasn’t a threat but didn’t care because he’d already achieved what he wanted: Voldemort out of the picture for a while and the kid being watched over at his aunt and uncle’s house. That initial question then evolved into: The kid at his aunt’s house protected by his dead mother’s spell while a double agent infiltrates the enemy ranks, willing to do anything for Dumbledore’s validation? (Once it became known about Lily’s spell and that Severus had been working for Dumbledore).

Even before I had the full picture, Dumbledore’s attitude toward Sirius smelled fishy. It seemed really off and totally incoherent for someone who supposedly cared about the people under his command. This feeling intensified for me in the fourth book and then really hit home in the fifth. Sirius is essentially the only emotional support Harry truly finds in an adult. Sure, Sirius is dysfunctional in himself, but Harry sees him as the father figure he never had, or at least that connection to his parents he so desperately needs. It’s canon that he needs to talk to him, even if it’s just to vent.

Doesn’t the kid matter to you enough to use your super-powerful, highly respected wizard influence to clear Sirius’s name so the kid can at least spend weekends with him in Hogsmeade? I mean, come on. I’ve seen many people try to justify this by saying, “If Sirius were available, Harry would have wanted to go live with him and leave the Dursleys, and Lily’s spell wouldn’t work,” but that’s pure bullshit. Just tell Sirius that what keeps Harry alive is being at his aunt’s house. Sirius is rich enough to buy a house in Privet Drive and be close to the kid so he wouldn’t have to leave. It’s not that complicated.

But this is something I thought of later with the last book. What really bothered me in the fourth was: why wasn’t Dumbledore doing anything? Why, in the fifth book, does he have a guy who’s clearly a walking time bomb locked up in his childhood home? Just waiting for him to finally explode? Honestly, when I read the fifth book, I thought maybe Dumbledore put Sirius there and set all those restrictions because he knew him well enough to know he’d eventually snap and do something reckless, and Dumbledore could just wash his hands of it. Even before all the truth came out, before the seventh book, Dumbledore already disgusted me. With everything in hindsight, not only does my nearly two-decade-old theory still make sense, but I firmly believe it’s true. I think Sirius Black annoyed Dumbledore, not only because of how he could influence Harry but because he was a disruptive element. He was a soldier who didn’t blindly follow orders, someone explosive, with an uncontrollable temperament, whose leitmotif had always been opposing authority. I think Dumbledore knew that Sirius probably only stayed somewhat stable in the Order because of James, and once James was out of the picture, there was no one to handle him. So, indeed, he became a nuisance. He could do without him. Sirius wasn’t useful because he was too temperamental and impulsive for espionage or information gathering. He wasn’t helpful offensively because he systematically questioned authority and wouldn’t follow Dumbledore’s orders unless he had a good reason. So, Dumbledore let him remain a fugitive and then locked him up in his childhood home, which was essentially his greatest trauma, and left him there to drink himself into misery until he couldn’t take it anymore, snapped, did something stupid, and ended up dead.

But not only that, Dumbledore’s attitude toward his students always annoyed me. I’ve always hated favoritism because I was raised that way. My mother was a teacher at the school I attended until I was about 12, and I never got any special treatment. She was literally tougher on me than on anyone else. As a kid, I could never understand why Dumbledore showed so much favoritism toward Gryffindors. I could kind of get that Slytherins were the “bad guys” and blah blah blah, but there were two other houses he completely ignored. Over time, and with maturity, this feeling only grew stronger.

When I read the sixth book, I was genuinely outraged because the guy condemned Tom Riddle when he was just a kid. Like, ??? How is it possible to make those judgments when they’re just children? I also thought it was absurd that he told Draco not to do it. I mean, after six years of totally ignoring him because to you, he’s just a Slytherin son of purists doomed to darkness, you tell him not to follow the orders of the maniac threatening his family?? Don’t you think if you’d done your job as a teacher and stepped in earlier to make the kid question what his parents were telling him, maybe he wouldn’t have ended up in this situation? Don’t you realize you abandoned and ostracized an ENTIRE HOUSE FULL OF KIDS highly susceptible to supremacist ideas, didn’t give a damn, and now you’re surprised when decades of negligence result in those kids choosing the wrong path? Don’t you understand that the alternative to following Voldemort is following you, and the only thing they know about you is that you either ignore them or constantly favor their rivals? Like, WHAT THE HELL DID YOU EXPECT?

And then there’s the Severus issue. Some people say Dumbledore was the only one who understood Severus. Yeah, sure, he understood him all right. He understood him well enough to use all his traumas against him, manipulate him, and turn him into a weapon. Some people also say Dumbledore was like a father figure to him. I don’t doubt that Severus might have seen him that way, as a positive paternal figure (finally, after his father and Voldemort) whom he wanted to please because he felt that if Dumbledore validated him, it meant he was becoming a better person and redeeming himself—maybe in a way similar to how he saw Lily as someone through whom to measure the right direction. But this wasn’t reciprocal. Dumbledore didn’t give a damn. Dumbledore saw Severus the same way he saw Harry: as a weapon. He realized Severus was an unstable, scared boy with a massive load of guilt, and being fully aware of the power of guilt from his own experience, he decided to exploit it. He knew Severus was talented, knew he could become even more so, so he locked him in a gilded cage: left him at Hogwarts, which had never been a home to him but a torment, kept him closely monitored, and used his skills whenever he wanted.

Dumbledore is the perfect kind of person to be a general in a war. Honestly, he’s amazing at it. He understands that soldiers are weapons and must be prepared to die for the greater cause. He understands that wars have casualties and that’s okay as long as those casualties help move closer to victory. He understands that sacrifices must be made and that if those sacrifices bring us closer to the goal, that’s fine. He gets that disruptive or dissonant elements that could jeopardize his plans need to be eliminated. He perfectly combines Machiavelli’s style with Sun Tzu’s: make your soldiers see you not as a superior but as a father.

He earns absolute devotion by embodying this fatherly figure that inspires trust, but deep down, his mind is a tangle of plans. His goal is to defeat Voldemort (who, by the way, is also a product of his own negligence, because if he hadn’t been such a crappy teacher, maybe he would’ve noticed the red flags and stopped Riddle earlier, but okay). If defeating Voldemort means a bunch of teenagers have to die, another kid ends up in prison, a child has to sacrifice his life, or the people around him are manipulated, so be it.

I understand this philosophy—it’s very military—but I don’t agree with it because I hate that kind of mentality. I could respect it if it weren’t for the fact that Dumbledore, on top of it all, is so moralistic. The guy who should be the last to pass judgment on others’ decisions, who should keep his damn mouth shut, is constantly moralizing, being condescending, and posing as the champion of morality and the compass of good and evil. Honestly, I would have slapped him in the face, I swear. What a jerk. So many messed-up people, all because he was a narcissistic prick. Screw him.

[blurbofparadise]

This is so nice!

I sure wouldn't have 500 billion dollars for long, but I would have a lot of fun while it lasted!

I'm pretty sure that's enough money to buy politicians, so I would be able to do that and get some things fixed, like the Healthcare and educational systems. It would also be good to pass through a bunch of laws to protect the most vulnerable people in our society, such as LGBTQ, lower income individuals and families, womens rights, the unhoused, and at risk kids. Boom, funded.

This also would be enough money to start making pensions a thing again, and I would really like to work on bringing those back. And also making it a thing that partners receive benefits as well. That can be very important, especially for non heteronormative families.

There would be so many environmental issues I would want to fund, from protecting water and land to requiring clean ups and changes in operating procedures from big polluting corporations. I would like to also support organizations that are preserving endangered species, especially sea turtles because those are my favorite, but also the equally important but perhaps not as glamorous species that don't get as much now.

I would like to support the organizations that are regrowing the coral reefs, I think that's cool as hell. I would support research into new techniques for protecting the ocean, including new sunscreens that wouldn't be toxic to the reefs and trash cleanup projects.

I would also like to support organizations that are switching to biodegradable options for things like forks and take out containers. And I would like to get some better labeling on them so they are safer for people with food allergies.

I would like to end slavery and put in place global human rights. I would like to make sure everyone has access to reasonably priced Healthcare that covers both emergencies and preventative everyday care. I would like to bring down the maternal mortality and infant mortality rate, as so many of those are completely preventable, with money.

I would like to support the ongoing research into the AIDS vaccine, and make it available at no cost once it is ready, to slow and perhaps even stop that epidemic and provide hope for future generations.

I would like to create affordable housing, and bust up the corporations making excessive profit at the expense of humans who simply need a place to live, and who leave those who can't afford the cost to die in the streets.

I would abolish the for profit prison system that perverts justice and makes profit off the suffering and destruction of human life. I would abolish the legalized slavery of prison labor.

I might be out of money at this point, but I have so many ideas. So many things could be fixed with money, we live in a modern era and the solutions are right at our fingertips, just behind the paywall...

I have nothing to post right now I'm just laying in bed and I'm so sleepy

I hope you're having a really great day today, and that you have a lovely night sleep tonight. remember to always be cozy no matter what you're doing and drink some water also

also I hope you get five hundred billion dollars, I think it would be really cool if you got five hundred billion dollars and I want that for you

[nothorses]

Seeing a lot of the discoursy stuff you've been reblogging has made me think about how awful i was in high school.

I was a cis girl back then and i used to fake being on my period to get out of doing stuff and to make the boys i was friends with buy me chocolates and candies i liked. I could do that because. I was a cis (white) woman and i went to a tiny school where my autism made me more popular instead of less.

Eventually i learned NOT to manipulate people to get my way but like. Cis (white) women are given a social power by the very patriarchy that oppresses them that i think gets overlooked and forgotten. And i think from what i've seen and heard from my transmasc friends that sort of thing gets weaponized against them in a whole variety of ways.

Thanks for what you do.

Hey, I appreciate where you're coming from, and I honestly don't think you need to worry about it that much. Like, it's good to reflect on your actions & intentions, whether that's the kind of person you want to be, how that makes you feel now, and the different choices you'd like to make going forward... and also, idk, I think it's important to factor in the actual scope of your impact & what you can really do with that information now.

I wasn't there, but from what you've said, it sounds like what you actually did was pretty minimal & harmless overall. I did and said and believed some not-great things in high school, too. It's alright. That's part of being a high schooler! I still do and say and probably believe some things I have/will regret, and I'm still learning. That's part of being alive.

It sounds like you're more regretful of the beliefs your actions were stemming from anyway (which is definitely an assumption, and I could totally be wrong!) but like, you don't need my permission to forgive yourself for any of it. Everyone starts somewhere. I'm glad some of the things I've said have resonated & been able to help you on that journey, and I hope you're able to focus on the excitement of learning over the guilt of not having known before.

[emeryleewho]

For a couple years now, I've been struggling with reading Big 5 books because I realized that the majority follow a very specific formula, and once you crack the formula, every element becomes predictable and kind of boring.

Last year, as publishers started leaning hardcore into AI (especially my publisher who has been trying to force AI on us for years), it really clicked for me that the reason they don't think AI books suck is because they've already been forcing a sort of AI-adjacent storytelling on authors. "AI writing" is just language prediction. Put a bunch of words together in the order they'll most likely appear in based on previously established datasets, and in a lot of ways, that was how I felt writing books for trad pub to buy. It felt like every time I sat down at my computer, I was just plugging pieces into slots to fill in the formula, and any time I deviated from that formula, I would be told that every deviation needed to be removed to make the story "clean".

I don't know at what point so many people who claim to love books completely lost sight of what stories are supposed to do, but last year, I told myself that if I don't want to be replaced by AI, I need to stop letting trad pub force me to write like one. And frankly, this is why I think media literacy is so important.

Every human made book--no matter how good or how bad--has something to offer because when you engage with it, *think* on it, you open yourself up to another chunk of the human experience. You're communicating with other people like or unlike you. Even books you hate inform your opinions. Even books you think are problematic help you better establish your moral compass. Every book has something to offer.

But if you can't tell the difference between a real book and ai content with a book aesthetic, you also won't notice the difference as real art and storytelling is replaced by ai generated slop that has nothing to offer because it doesn't come from *anyone*. It's just the book-length equivalent of pressing the suggested next term on your keyboard while you text your mom. The words mean nothing, there's nothing to engage with, and anything it makes you feel is based solely on your own projection, the equivalent of getting into a fight with yourself over something that could never happen.

Now, I don't think all trad pub books are bad. Like I said, every real book has something to offer. But I think the prevalent mentality overtaking trad pub of what makes a book "good" is not actually about writing quality and is entirely about how to generate the fastest, most formulaic story on the misguided premise that this will make the most money. At some point, authors, agents, and editors will have to push back against this or we're all set to be replaced because publishers have established audiences that are looking for formulaic and predictable stories, so why not let them be written by predictive text? Saves them a lot of money and completely cuts us out of the picture. I'm over it.

[sheigarche]

girl shut up

I'm going to assume this is about Life is Strange because that's what I've been talking about the most in the last 2 months and I don't think any of my other fandoms would be bother by my posts.

So here are some hot take ideas for LIS posts I've never made because I thought it might upset some fans, but maybe I shouldn't be so quiet about it after all.

Pricefield vs DE

It seems like everything in Double Exposure was deliberately written to justify Chloe breaking up with Max.

Chloe showed that she was paranoid that Max may be using her powers to manipulate the relationship to make it work and that's exactly what Max did to Amanda and got call out for it in the end.

She also expressed how Max is unable to let go of the past and is haunt by it. So most of the game we see Max (and the player) holding on to it and struggling to move on until the very end. Some fans still can't do it and doesn't want Max to do it, but that's exactly why Chloe left.

Many people didn't realize it, but Max was struggling to establish herself as a real photographer in the years she was with Chloe, but quick became famous and recognized in the years after they broke up.

To me that's the game trying to sell the idea that they are better off without each other.

Chaseprice

Victoria and Chloe's posts in DE don't show anything explicitly romantic, it could just be friendship, but the intention to make it look like something more is pretty clear to me.

The writers chose sentences like "can you handle it, Chase?" and "I'll buy you a beer" on purpose and know exactly what the players will think of it.

Besides Victoria shows a desire in going from wherever she lives to see Chloe, and then Chloe makes plans to do a little detour to go see Victoria. Whatever this relationship is, they're making it work long distance with effort on both sides. Mutual interest.

I wouldn't be surprised if in the sequel we see one post or two subtly hinting that they're actually together. A picture on Crosstalk, maybe a comment from someone else on their posts.

Hell, I can even imagine an art gallery event of some sort where Max is invited and can bring her chosen love interest and Victoria is there with Chloe as her date... And that's how the devs manage to have a natural last conversation between Max and Chloe in person to give closure to their relationship.

And I kind of expect Victoria to come to them at some point, a little jealous or just proud of her girlfriend.

Langfield

Some people keep saying that Max wouldn't be interested in Vinh... But that's wrong.

The reality is that it was the first game's choices and Max's journey is what makes them fit together so well.

Yes, okay, maybe 18-year-old Max wouldn't like this emotionally dry 28-year-old Vinh. Maybe 18-year-old Max would have liked way more to know the enthusiastic drama student 18-year-old Vinh, who dreamed of being an actor.

Now this 28-year-old Max, full of traumas and complexes knows enough about life to see through 28-year-old Vinh's walls and realize that he is not dry, but afloat and barely keeping himself together. That's why she can really connect with him, as a friend or more.

It was the traumas and secrets that made her interesting to Vinh, just like his traumas and regrets are what make Max interested in him.

They fit together because they share some similar emotional experiences and they know how the other might be feeling in certain situations. And when they are together, they can laugh about it, have fun and be themselves, even if just for a moment.

Amberprice

Honestly I left this fandom years ago without shipping Pricefield or Amberprice, because of some reservations about Chloe's character. But now I'm back because of DE and I decided to finish Before the Storm... I can't get Rachel out of my head!

Seriously, what's this magic in their scenes and why can't I stop watching them on loop?

I always thought I had a crush on Max, but I actually have a crush on Rachel Amber of all characters. Maybe I am Chloe Price all along 😂

You know a ship is good when it changes your perception of the characters.

[sunnirayss]

In that same video, she also claims that permashifting is impossible and that you cannot script out stuff like body hair/sweating without giving yourself a medical condition that causes those things 🤦🏽.

Videos like this only convince me that shifttokers don't actually want people to shift because it hurts their bottom line as creators. Because if their followers actually shift, then the creator is no longer "special" and the nonsense they spew as a self proclaimed authority on shifting will be seen for what it actually is... nonsense! People would lose the incentive to follow them and their platform would shrink into nothing. They would no longer buy all the overpriced shifting solutions that the creator sells in their store.

@fangsbaby hit the nail right on the head, they constantly say and do things to discourage people who are new to shifting or have been working towards it for years...and that's why! They make people feel broken and incapable so they will look superior by comparison, to promote this sort of hero worship dynamic between themselves and their followers. All so they can build up a platform and even make money off of them.

They create problems so they can sell people the solution, and they have no use for successful shifters who would see through their BS in seconds. And they don't care how much they hurt people by saying that they probably won't shift, as long as they get their views it's fine to them.

Otherwise it's just ragebait to get people talking about them, like those people who haven't been relevant since 2020 who'll randomly come out to say "I lied about shifting out of boredom, we all did!".

Christine posted out of nowhere and of course her first post is to drop her "hot takes", she just wanted people to talk about her again and it's working. I think Christine and other shifttokers from the same era really hate how they've slowly faded into irrelevancy while the community moved on without them. Or how their teachings that were once built up as the only way to shift are now viewed as outdated, overly complicated, and unnecessary.

If you want to shift, stay far away from shifttok because the majority of these creators do not want to help you OR even if they do, their advice is completely terrible.

Do you want to struggle for years following complex routines or be told that there's something inherently wrong with you that makes shifting impossible...or do you want to shift with ease and be in your DR already? The choice is yours 💙

BYE WHAT IM SOBBING 😭