#But if still no one looks I'm not stopping. I do what I want here on tumblr dot com.

[a-substantial-trash-pile]

Catalyst

so in my au which i'm totally not using to cope or anything haha, after realizing that curly isn't going to do anything about jimmy, anya confides in swansea and he goes Protective Dad Mode. i'm calling this the "Responsibility AU." ramble below cut.

swansea doesn't immediately go after jimmy with an axe or anything because 1. they're not in a high stress life/death crash situation and 2. anya specifically requests that swansea not enact violence upon jimmy after swansea says, and i quote, "i'm gonna beat his ass." anya just wants to feel safer and more supported on the ship—she doesn't want swansea to get in trouble even if jimmy does deserve to get destroyed by 10000 punches.

what swansea can do is watch out for anya and make sure she's never alone in a room with jimmy. if there's a situation where she has to be alone with jimmy (like the psych evals), she and swansea have a system where she can signal for help. with anya's permission, swansea asks daisuke to help look out for her too (without telling him the details as to why since that's anya's right to share or not). daisuke has already picked up at this point that something is wrong based on how much more hostile swansea's become towards jimmy, and he trusts his boss, so he agrees without much question.

anya, feeling less alone now that she has people watching her back, gains more confidence to stand up to jimmy. which makes him angry because his unwanted advances are being denied and swansea and daisuke keep getting in his way. he just can't understand why he's being treated as the bad guy here (this is because he is a delusional asshole).

meanwhile curly is slowly realizing that he needs to actually do something here because the tension in the crew is palpable and increasing by the day. also swansea is being mighty passive aggressive to him and talking about "responsibility" a lot. curly keeps trying to talk to jimmy about it but the guy just keeps downplaying it and blaming everyone else but himself. and curly is realizing that his friend isn't who he thought he was.

it all comes to a head one day when an angry jimmy tries to confront anya alone and swansea steps in. things get heated, people start yelling. curly show up to see swansea and jimmy on the verge of fighting with anya and daisuke trying to hold them back respectively. curly breaks up the fight. jimmy storms off. curly follows him and finds him trying to get the gun from the case in the cockpit. curly asks him why he's doing this and jimmy claims it's for his own protection because he feels "threatened by swansea." he tells curly to give him the code. curly, the sheer wrongness of the whole situation hitting him, finally calls jimmy out on all his bs. jimmy just laughs in his face, still believing that he's not in the wrong and curly doesn't have the guts to do anything anyway. so the captain fires him on the spot. jimmy snaps and he and curly get into a fight in the cockpit. jimmy is trying to crash the ship and curly is trying to stop him. then the rest of the crew show up and anya knocks jimmy's ass out with the gun case. swansea is so proud.

they throw jimmy in the cryopod so they don't have to worry about him pulling anything else and he can be properly dealt with once the stupid delivery is over. everyone's like, "wow that was a close one—could you imagine how messed up it would be if we ended up in a crash because of jimmy? thank god that didn't happen." curly makes swansea the copilot until they can get a replacement and swansea's like, "goddammit as if i don't already do enough shit around here."

anyway my whole goal here was to get rid of jimmy early so i can have beautiful Found Family shenanigans in space with the rest of the crew. apologies and healing and happy times will happen. no the whole getting laid off thing doesn't happen. no i don't have an explanation for it. sorry for the essay.

[rizsu]

megumi fushiguro x reader 𓂃 drabble.

+ love, ‘su: what happens when your friend's brother is your type? flirting! not beta read mb

“can i date your brother?”

“that loser?!”

a smile works up your face, signaling to your friend that you are half joking and half serious. truth be told, you've been eyeing her brother for a while. he's awkward around you, messy hair that never seems to settle, gentle with touching, and not to mention his honey-glazed voice.

“go ahead. i was beginning to question him anyway.”

and just like that, you began plotting. the frequency of your visits to the fushiguro's increased tenfold, and so did the eye contact between you and megumi.

whenever your eyes caught his, you'd flash him a sweet smile, softening your eyes at him.

unfortunately, megumi can't reciprocate. he's malfunctioning on spot, bringing the back of his hand to cover him biting his lips, and the blush that creeps up whenever you're provoking him.

days upon days of subtle flirting turn into weeks. eventually, megumi got used to your advances. he's even mustered up the courage to answer you back.

little did he know that his improvements would crumble within one night. all the research on how to flirt back, questioning his sister about you, hearting your posts on social media washed down the drain.

—

it's not unusual to see megumi at the gym. he's a guy that cares a lot for his lean figure. abs that aren't too prominent, biceps that aren't big, but you can see them when he's in a tank top, and slightly toned thighs. he believes it's the perfect combination for himself.

besides this, all confidence is lost when you walk in the gym. what are you doing here? fuck knows why— you're unpredictable.

he's on the treadmill, getting his minutes in while he pretends he's not looking at you through his peripheral vision. it's obvious your destination is right beside him.

suddenly getting eight-minutes on the treadmill doesn't seem impossible. surely not when he's trying his best to not look at you.

your stare burns into him, heating his body as if you placed a fraction of the sun inside him. your eyes trail along his body, admiring his build. it's coincidentally just in line with your taste.

“you're drenched in sweat.” throwing the hand towel over your shoulder, you put a hand on your hip.

“y-yeah. been at it for an hour.” slowing his pace, he replies to you, taking in deep breaths whenever he can.

“the treadmill?!”

coming to a stop, he steps off the treadmill, taking your towel to assist himself.

“no, i meant the entire workout.”

your face contorted in disbelief at the sight of your towel being dirtied.

megumi pays no mind to your expressions, enjoying the satisfaction of being semi-dry instead of beads of sweat trickling down the sides of his face.

the satisfaction ends when he felt a finger poke his chest, then it slid down the middle of his torso, stopping right above his belly button.

you giggle at his reaction. finding it amusing the way he tensed up at your touch.

“well, aren't you fit.” you teased, smiling at him.

megumi scoffs, grabbing your wrist with his hand. his grip is firm — ensuring that you won't be able to wiggle your hand out.

“how long are you going to do this, y/n?”

“do what?” feigning innocence, you shrugged at him.

at that point, he breaks. he's fed up and hates it when he's placed in guessing games. it's either you commit to the bit, or leave him alone — okay, no. he doesn't want you to leave him alone, but you get the point.

lowering his head to your ears, he whispers, “you know what i'm talking about.”

has his voice always been that deep? you wondered to yourself, ignoring the chills his whisper sent.

you turn your head away from him, bringing yourself back to reality.

“then do something about it.”

“you've got quite the tongue, y/n.”

“thanks, i got it from my mother!” your quick remarks are back, but you're still avoiding eye contact.

maybe it's the fact that he's obviously irritated—or maybe it's his now see-through tank top that's making it impossible for you to continue your usual endeavours.

annoyed, megumi leans back, rolling his shoulders. his hand's still holding your wrist, and the other's settled in his sweatpant's pocket.

“let's go back.” a heavy sigh left him.

“but i just got here!” you refused to leave.

“you already saw what you came for. it's time to go, y/n.”

he walked forward, pulling you behind him. the irritated feeling long replaced by the heartbeat that's booming in his ears. tonight's the night one of you will become victorious.

[cometconmain]

This ^^^^

The male lonliness epidemic is an actual problem that is NOT tied to women exercising their autonomy and rights to lay boundaries.

Just because shitty men weaponise actual problems men face as a cudgel to try to beat down the women's rights movement doesn't mean the thing wrapped around the cudgel in an attempt to legitimise it isn't true. You have to unwrap that point, burn the cudgel, and then look at the point itself in its own right separate from bullshit so we can address all societal issues right down to the root and move forward together.

Men are people too. They do deserve to have good mental health and healthy relationships. The way we can help them achieve that is by targeting what actually prevents it. Obviously, again, what prevents it isn't women gaining rights and being allowed to say no and cut toxic men out of their lives, for fuck's sake. But there are plenty of good organisations out there working to address these actual problems men do face so they stop trying to force women to make up the difference.

If you have the energy and the intent to actually change this world properly and sustainably, start sharing and supporting these organisations and encouraging men to break free of the double-edged sword that is the patriarchy too.

Don't even joke about making men suffer intentionally. It breeds the unhealthy kind of radicalisation, and creates extremism and toxicity in spaces that are supposed to be about women healing and moving forward and moving society forward together.

And you can't go around insisting that because some men still become incels anyway that that means every man on the planet deserves to be treated with vitriol. For every incel there are many normal men out there who are easily reachable. I know about 30 of them off the top of my head. I've been working on another one who has been coming around too. If you don't have the energy to deradicalise men, that's one thing. Don't fucking run around acting like because you don't want to that means no one should and that because extremist men exist that means you get to treat all of them the same way you do a full-on incel.

That's wrong and you are headed down the extremist path.

(I have no issue with 4B as of this moment. They're a movement made of Korean women who don't need white/western feminism breathing down their necks while they try to take back even a scrap of the recognition and rights we enjoy in most other countries. I don't know the culture, I don't know what they go through and I don't get to decide how they do things. That's for them to decide, the same way we have to respect Muslim women who shouldn't be forced to take off their head coverings and be told it's about liberating them while we essentially just take control of their clothing in another way. I'm talking in general to people in here who aren't part of the 4B movement who are of the same or very similar western culture to me.)

american women your objective for the next four years is to make men miserable. exacerbate that male lonliness epidemic as much as you possibly can.

[sugawhaaa]

SAN X READER

⚝₊ ⊹˚Scented feelings⚝₊ ⊹˚

Warnings:: mentions of SA and harassment, suggestive at the end

Genre:: friends to lovers

Pairing:: gym bro!San x fem!reader

A/N:: I've been cooking this up for a long time so I am PRAYINNN to the gods above this does well 🙏

San was a somewhat new friend but the two of you clicked like magic and nothing was too embarrassing to admit between the two of you. You met at the gym when you first started working out frequently and he gave you some tips. One thing led to another and now you work out together multiple times a week. He's always so encouraging, helpful and understanding.

If you explain to him that you're having kind of a rough day or not feeling well he won't try to push you like he normally does and he will respect the fact you want to keep it chill. All in all he is the best gym bro you could've asked for.

Today you came in a bit earlier than usual and started warming up with your regular stretches and light weight exercise to get your blood moving. As you did that you noticed two guys looking at you quite frequently and occasionally talking to each other. You chose to ignore them and listen to some music until San arrived. It wasn't too long after that you noticed San come in through the door with his bag and massive water bottle in hand. He smiled when he locked eyes with you and came over to you.

“You got here early today,” San smiles as he looks down slightly to meet your height.

“Yeah my schedule was clear and I just felt like coming by early,” you shrug and San nods. The two of you then get to work, following your usual routine. However you noticed the men from earlier were getting bolder and were much less obvious than before. You sigh softly as you go back to lifting some weights and Sans brows furrow. He hadn't noticed the men yet so he decided to ask what had been bothering you.

“You seem…frustrated?” San says as he comes closer to you, talking softer than usual.

“Yeah it's just those guys over there. They've been looking at me since I got here,” you tilt your head over to where the men were standing and talking. Sans brows furrow again as he looks at them.

“Want me to talk to them?” He offers but you shake your head.

“Nah I don't want to make a scene,” you set the weights down again and stretch out your arms above your head. San watches you carefully as you stretch before looking back at the men. He seemed to be more conscious of them than you were.

“I'm gonna go talk to them,” he said as he started to storm over to them. You put your hand over his chest.

“Don't, they're not worth it. Let's just keep going,” you smile at him and he sighs.

“Alright, but if they keep annoying you I'll talk to them. Formally,” he smiles innocently, too innocently. You continued working out and ignored the men and they seemed to stop staring at you…finally. However once you finished your workout San gave you a fist bump and I little sit hug while patting your shoulder. “You did good today,” he smiles, his eyes momentarily invisible, and you headed over to the girls change room. Upon approaching the door you were interrupted by the two guys from earlier. One blocked the door, it wasn't very deliberate but it was obvious, while the other stood more to the side talking to you.

“Could I get your number?” He asked straight up and you blush, not because you felt butterflies in your tummy like he probably thought, but more because you were so confused and embarrassed.

“Oh I uhm,” you shake your head and chuckle awkwardly. “I'm not interested,” you smile, still wanting to he polite because what if they really did have good intentions? It was doubtful but still. When you refused the man's face contorted with anger and what was this other emotion you could see in his eyes? You couldn't put your finger on it before he started getting mad.

“Oh come on just give me a chance baby,” he started getting closer to you and your body froze up. You weren't quite sure what to do in this situation; the man was much bigger and taller than you and you didn't want to cause a scene but you needed to find a way to get out of this situation.

“What's going on here?” San steps up next to you and puts an arm around you, smiling warmly to the man.

“Just friendly conversation, you know what I mean,” the man chuckled and San arched a brow at him, not very amused by his excuse.

“I see, well me and my girlfriend have some plans for the rest of the day so we'll be off then,” San pats your shoulder before kissing the top of your head. You felt your heart skip about a thousand beats.

The way his body pressed against yours, every inch of his muscles pressed against yours, including his arm muscles that were quite literally the size of your head and the kiss was so gentle and…sincere?

“Haha, have a good day you two,” The man chuckles awkwardly and backs up as the two of you turn to leave. San brings his hand down to your hand, interlocking your fingers, as he picks up your bags and leaves the gym. As you walked down the sidewalk you glanced back at the gym then at San.

“You can let go now,” you say as you look up at him, his cap hat shading in his eyes.

“We gotta sell the act or they may make a scene,” he leans down to whisper to you and your heart skips again. He was so close to you, so close to the point you could feel his body heat radiating onto you, and it got you excited. You thought you just thought San was you know a good looking guy, no romantic feelings, you just appreciate his beauty but after that insanity back there? The way he whispered to you made you freeze up to the point your jaw clenched to hold in all the things you were feeling.

San turned the corner, dragging your frozen presence along, and let go of your head. “They're way out of sight now, we're good to go,” he pats your back and you blush softly with a smile.

“Y-Yeah, we're good,”

“I'll take you back to my place so you can shower, in peace this time,” he laughs softly. “But in all seriousness I had to hold myself back from clocking those guys. No woman should have to deal with disrespect as much as they do these days,” he huffs as he crosses his arms, walking steadily with you. “Like God forbid a woman tries to get fit or take a shower,” he sighs while shaking his head, looking like a disappointed father. “Do you deal with that behavior often?”

“Uhm…not overly,” you shrug and he nods.

“If you ever find yourself in danger call me okay? I couldn't think of a better use for these muscles other than to clock a bastard bothering you,” he says as he pretends to box the air. You chuckle softly but nod.

“Thanks San, I'll call you,” a brief moment of silence fell upon the two of you when you realized you weren't sure where you were going, you were just following San's lead. “Where are we headed?” You ask as you trot along beside you.

“My place, so you can shower in peace,” he chuckles and you find yourself blushing. You had been at his house a few times before but showering in someone else's house feels like the next step in a friendship. When you get to his place you take your gym bag to the bathroom and San shows you how to use his shower just in case you didn't know. “This is temperature obviously and on the shower head there are four settings, the further you go to the right the higher the pressure goes and stuff,” he shows you before setting the showerhead back on its little perch. “You good?” He gives you a little thumbs up and you nod.

“Yes, thank you Sannie,” you smile and he blushes softly at the nickname.

“Sannie,” he repeats and laughs softly before leaving the bathroom. You sigh softly and begin to undress but just as you start San comes back in. “Sorry, here's a new towel and you can set your clothes on the counter here,” he hands you the towel and takes the old one off the rail. You thank him as he leaves you alone.

You undress and turn on the shower, making sure it's the right temperature before hopping in. You take your shower relatively quickly but as you water down your body you notice his body wash…he wouldn't mind you borrowing just a little bit right? Maybe? What's the worst he could do? Get mad at you for using it but meh he'll get over it. Unless he thinks you're a weirdo or creep for him. But that's way too far, he probably won't even notice unless he's sniffing you which would make him a creep and without thinking any further you grab the pale blue bottle and squirt a little bit of the soap into your hand, since there were no clothes nearby you had to result to just your hands which is fine, but as soon as you squirted out the soap Sans scent filled the room.

Whenever he'd spot you or help you get into good positions he'd get close enough to you that you could smell him and this is exactly what he smelt like…obviously. But it made your heart flutter. The scent was so indescribable. Coconut mixed with vanilla and maybe a hint of that fresh air smell. Oh, it was so good. You lathered the soap over yourself as you watched the suds bubble up before washing off of your body. Before you could even think you were smelling all of his soaps, like a fucking weirdo. But he'd never know so what's the harm? His shampoo was overwhelmingly strong. It had a very fruity smell, like a deep cherry or strawberry. He wouldn't mind if you borrowed it right? Either way you used just a little bit before getting out and drying yourself off.

The towel was nice and warm and very freshly scented. His laundry detergent was also very pleasantly scented, smelt like fresh air, and filled your head with images of clouds in a blue sky. You finished drying off and threw on your dry clothes before brushing down your damp hair. You put everything back the way you had found it and went to go find San.

You found him out in the living room on his couch and he turned to look at you. "Hey," he smiles as he looks you up and down very quickly. "Have a nice shower?" He asks to distract himself from your body.

"Very nice," you laugh softly before sitting next to him. When you sat down he got a whiff of his bodywash. He was surprised, the shock showing on his face for a split second, but he didn't mention it.

"So...are you gonna stick around or carry on with your schedule?" San asked very light-heartedly, he wouldn't be offended if you wanted to leave.

"I'll stay for a bit but I need to run some errands today," you say as you check your phone and San nods. The two of you hang out for a bit before you continue on with your day. That evening you get home and realize you left your bag at San's place. Your hairbrush, deodorant, pads, chapstick, and much more were in there. You decided to text him about it and he instantly found it in the bathroom.

You• would it be okay if I swing by after dinner to get it?

⛰️• ofc, I'll be here 👍

You• thank you 😭

After texting him you began to cook dinner before, of course, eating it. You then went down to San's apartment again and you couldn't help but feel excited to see him again. Even though it had only been a few hours you always craved to be near him...in a friendly way of course. When you came by he had your bag ready for you by the door and you wanted to ask if you could hang out for a bit but...you couldn't.

"I think everything's in there," San says as he hands it to you. You take the bag and smile, thanking him, but San could see you were thinking about something. "Y/N, you okay? You seem...distracted," he leans against the doorframe and you feel your heart stop at your face heating up.

"W-Well there was a complication with some of the pipes in my apartment and we were told to leave but I haven't found anywhere I can crash for the night," you make up a lie to stay at his place and he looks surprised.

"Oh well you can stay here for as long as you need. It gets lonely here by myself and my cat," he smiles, his dimples showing and you look at him surprised.

"You have a cat?" You chuckle softly and San laughs. He takes you into his apartment again and goes to his bedroom, encouraging you to follow. He then picks up a big long haired white cat.

"This is Muffin," he holds the cat up in his arms and encourages you to pet her. She's extremely fluffy and doesn't seem to mind being pet, she kinda just sits there. San also shows you his spare room. "There's not a lot here, not even a bed, so you might wanna sleep on the couch instead,"

"Thank you so much for letting me stay over," you smile at him, feeling a tinge of guilt but it was buried down by your excitement to spend the night with him. San shrugs.

"No problem, you hungry?" He pushes himself off the doorframe and walks out to the kitchen. You follow after him, Muffin following you as well, to the kitchen.

"Not overly, ate before getting here,"

"Right," San nods but makes you have a snack with him anyway. He sticks on a movie to entertain you but you end up talking to each other the whole time, the movie now out of question. The two of you got to talk on a deeper level than usual, things like relationship struggles and internal battles you've fought growing up. San always looked up at you so sincerely. His eyes were filled with sincerity and interest, he didn't just hear your words he listened to them, a trait many men fail to hinder. But something about his gaze so focused on you made you feel...excited. You felt like you were gonna flutter away at any given moment.

The two of you then go quiet, staring into each other's eyes, San then clears his throat. "Would you like a blanket?" He offers you a blanket and throws one on for himself. You snuggle up into the blankets and are overtaken with his scent again. You go back to watching the movie and then...you feel a sex scene approaching. Your body tenses as the girl on screen seduces the man and you chuckle softly but San remains focused on the show.

Eventually the two characters get down and dirty and you for some reason feel the need to turn away. Just a second ago you had so much to talk about but now...

"What a nice...ceiling you have," you chuckle and San laughs.

"If it's too tense for you we can skip this scene," San tilts his head at you but his words made your mind flicker for a moment. It was different from him saying "we can skip this scene" he said "if it's too tense," you thought of how to respond.

══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══

"Why don't we just pause it?" You suggest and San nods with a little shrug before pausing the movie mid-moan. You turned your body to look at him and he did the same, slightly man-spreading as he lifted a leg on the couch and held his arms open on the head of the couch. That's when you noticed the tent in his pants. You were excited at the sight but disappointed in the fact you weren't the cause of his arousal.

"Do you...have a boyfriend?" He asks softly and you look at him shocked. "Or girlfriend," he chuckles, breaking the ice a little. "I don't judge," he confirms and you think for a moment.

"N-No, I'm single," you smile. "But you surely must have someone in your sights," you giggle and San smirks slightly, chuckling under his breath.

"You could say that," he tilts his head up before looking you up and down. "What about pets? Got any furry or scaly friends at home?" He smiles light heartedly.

"I do actually. I have a fish and a cat, kinda ironic isn't it?" You laugh softly and San smirks.

"So where are they staying tonight?"

You freeze at his words.

"W-What do you mean?" You laugh but you knew you weren't getting through to him. Your face starts to turn red as you realized you've been caught lying.

"Well you have to stay here tonight because your apartment is having "complications" right? So, where are your pets?"

"They're at my...they didn't have to..." you try to make an excuse but your mind goes blank as you become flustered. San then leans forward.

"I don't mind you staying the night but if you wanted to spend time with me you could've just asked baby,"

To be continued...

[mlyscha]

↳ LOVE IS TRUST ⭑

𝓼ynopsis. where you and your boyfriend try the "i trust my boyfriend" trend: will they be able to succeed? 𝓹airing. enha!member x female!reader 𝓰enre. fluff, trendy, kind of domestic? 𝔀arnings. curse words, reader gets hit on the head (help), not proofread, english is not my 1st language. 𝔀𝓬. 1,5k+ 𝓶asterlist.

♡ 𝓪melie's 𝓷ote: just wanted to say hi and thank you guys for the 60+ followers, this is crazy! (╥ ω ╥) it has been only a few days since i started writing here and i have all of you guys here already… it couldn’t feel sweeter and softer than this! <3 thank you, everyone. 🤍

― 𝓱eeseung: confidence is not the key in this case...

you were sat on a chair, heeseung behind you holding a slipper while your phone were recording the moment. "okay... i'm scared but..." you prepared yourself for the worse, carefully protecting the side of your head with your arms and hands, just to make sure the water bottle above your head doesn't fall somehow; other than your boyfriend shooting a slipper to make it fall. "i trust my boyfriend! ah!" you screamed, waiting for him to throw the slipper and the water bottle placed above your head. "OH MY GOD, BABE," you turned to look at him from ― not too ― afar. "you did it!" your boyfriend, walking closer to you with a proud and petty grin replied: "yeah, that was kind of easy," then he shrugged, kissing your lips.

a few minutes later: "'kay guys, hee said he wants to attempt it again so... here we are..." you pursed your lips while looking at the camera, not very excited about this, already having that gut feeling. however, you just consented because this man seemed enthusiastic about the throw thing ― it even made you question yourself if he was mad at you somehow ㅠㅠ. anyway, when heeseung felt confident enough he threw the slipper. but! it hit your head and he immediately came to your rescue, back hugging you, feeling guilty and apologetic. "oh my god babe, i'm sorry," he was feeling worried about you, but when he realised you were actually laughing your ass off, he began to laugh as well, easing the atmosphere.

― 𝓳ongseong: nonchalant about it, but still succeeds.

jongseong is not a big fan of your couple trends ideas or something, worse when it involves your safety. but it's what they say: happy wife, happy life - even though he hasn't proposed yet. sat on a chair while jongseong waited beside you until you finished your tiktok video introduction, getting in position after you hit pause. he grabbed a slipper and gave you a quick forehead kiss before going back to his position, waiting for you to hit the record button. "i trust my boyfriend...!" "guys, i didn't want to do this, but, here i am," your boyfriend explained before throwing the slipper and successfully making the bottle above your head fall. "you did it, baby! woo-hoo!" you cheered for him, making the corner of his lips twitch.

bonus: after you recorded the video and posted it, jongseong told you to re-do this trend, but this time, with him, and let's say... sometimes the fourth time is the charm, isn't it?

― 𝓳aeyun: failed but redems himself.

different from jongseong, jaeyun would be actually excited to try it since you promised him he could be the next one having a slipper being thrown across their head. anyway, cutting the yap, your boyfriend was behind you making funny moves from afar, but when you told him to stop just so you can record the intro, he did it, actually feeling shy after you hit record. "okay, i trust my boyfriend ya'll..." and then... "OUCH!" "OH MY GOD, baby i'm sorry," feeling a extreme sense of guilt but playfulness, he went to hug you. "i'm so sorry, you can hit me now." he kisses your scalp/head, trying to make it less sore.

"okay guys, now it's my turn..." jaeyun announced, sitting on the chair you were sat two minutes before. he sighs before saying the catchy phrase: "i trust my girlfriend!" he closes his eyes, trying to stay still and appear calm ― even though he was shitting his pants thinking you were going to throw this slipper with such a force. however, you threw it and the water bottle sitting on his head fell. "i did it!" "WOW!" your boyfriend would immediately jump and hug you, praising you ― trying to make you forget about his embarrassingly and clumsy failed attempt.

― 𝓼unghoon: "why would i do that?" kind of guy.

yeah? why would he do that? alright, before we jump into the funny part ― not for sunghoon ― he might sound a bit petty and kinda nonchalant about this whole thing not to be rude, but because he just doesn't want to get you hurt. also, he thinks that if the quote was: safe wife, happy life, maybe things could've been solved more easily. anyway, your boyfriend began to practice how he could succeed this trend, which means, how he can throw this slipper across your head just perfectly enough to make that stupid water bottle fall.

after a few seconds, he asked you a hundred time: "why would i do this? i mean... why?!" he pouts, walking closer to you and placing both of his hands on your shoulders, giving them a little squeeze. you held his hands, looking back at sunghoon with a small grin. "babe, i am not going to die, it's just a silly couple trend, relax; you're just gonna throw the slipper and try to make this water bottle fall, while it lays on top of my head, okay?" no, it is not okay, but, instead, he replies: "okay..." you record a simple intro with hoon on the back, jumping into the main part of the tiktok. "i trust my boyfriend- OH MY GOD! THAT WAS FAST!" "yeah... that was fast..." "you still did it, babe! i'm alive!" "i am never doing these things again..." ― lies... (¬_¬).

― 𝓼unoo: the one having the most fun here.

i am used to describe sunoo as the giggliest and the most giddy one, and that specially applies for this kinds of situations too. with that being said i might mention that sunoo was actually just as excited as jaeyun could be, knowing that you wouldn't actually be mad at him or seriously injured, more like a funny moment he will share with you.

"okay, so i just have to throw it? like... this?" he pretended like he was going to throw the slipper. "yeah, yeah, that's all," you nodded, sitting on the chair and pressing record, since you had finished the intro already. "i trust my boyfriend." you said, waiting for the slipper to him your head or maybe the bottle. however, a loud smack was heard, and it was the sound of the slipper falling against the floor. both of you burst in a fit of laughter, before you asked: "want to try again?" "no... but can we switch? i actually wanna see if you can do it..."

― 𝓳ungwon: wonnie says: no, girlfriend sad. wonnie then says: fine...

jungwon is a mix of jongseong and sunghoon, nonchalant and worried about it. he have a big chance of succeeding, and if he does, he would say something like sunghoon said previously ― "i am not doing any such a thing like this with you anymore...!" but what happens if he doesn't succeed? well, first of all he will and would most definitely check on you and probably say: i told you it wasn't a good idea.

"'kay, i'll press start alright? get on your position." "baby, i'm scared i'll hit you too hard..." "would you hit me straight on the head hardly?" "no, but-" "exactly." "but i'll have to hit the bottle, not you, ugh... anyway." jungwon brushes off the urge to stop this, but after he realises you pressed record, he gives up. "i trust my boyfriend." and then after a few seconds preparing himself to throw it... bam! "i told you this wasn't a good idea!" even though his tone seemed kind of pissed off, he still walked over and checked on you like i said, laughing at you. "i told you silly head," he messes up with your hair a little bit. "this wasn't a good idea."

― 𝓻iki: laughs so hard that it makes you mad.

riki is the most playful one besides sunoo. he gives off this annoying guy at class vibes, almost like a bully who's soft on the inside. with that being said, riki would be down to record it, but still a bit worried, reassuring you wouldn't be mad at him if you get accidentally hit. knowing your boyfriend a little too well, you asked: "will you laugh at me?" and he would most definitely reply: "of course i will."

"okay, get ready, i'll start and then you can throw it- ouch! what was that for?" you turned around after getting hit on the head by the slipper. "i didn't pressed record or said the thing!" you complained. "oh sorry, my bad, i heard i could throw it." you sighed while your boyfriend picked the slipper up again, getting back into his position. "...i trust my boyfriend." you said, kind of hesitant. "RIKI! THAT HURT!" you placed your hand above the sore spot on the back of your head. "i'm-" giggle. "sorry!" giggle. you began to fake sob, making him feel guilty and this time actually worried. "oh... actually? did it actually hurt?" "'yes, it did," you looked up at him with a playful grin. "but... you know, it is your time to trust on me..."

riki ended up with a sore bump on his head. <3

© 𝓪𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐢𝓮, 𝗺𝗹𝘆𝘀𝗰𝗵𝗮 𝗌𝓽𝓾𝖽𝗂𝗈𝓼. ⋆

[marvelfanfics1]

Ooo, Rafe calling little!reader who is back at the condo, and asking her to find the pen (feel like adding Sofia in this sinerio would get messy given what happened). She wears his shirts and sleeps on his side of the bed since she’s already clingy in little space, so him being away is really hard

Rafe weaves through the busy streets, scanning the stands for any kind of phone so he could contact you, luckily finding one in a secluded alley.

He quickly types in your number, raising the phone to his ear and continues walking, his eyes darting everywhere as he waits for you to pick up. "C'mon...pick up."

You're at Rafe's house, all comfortable on his side of the bed with various sweets around you while Bluey is playing on the tv when suddenly your phone rings.

You pick it up and answer it without looking who it is, just wanting to get this call over so you can enjoy being little. "Hello?"

"Hey, baby. I-" Rafe starts, smirking when you squeal excitedly at hearing his voice, sitting up on the bed.

"Daddy! You comin' home now?" You quickly ask, already missing him so bad that you wear his shirts every day since he went to Morocco.

"Not yet, I still got business to do here." He answers and you frown at that. "You gotta do me a favor, yeah? So I can wrap this up faster."

You perk up at that, you would do anything so he comes back home faster. "Wha' is it?"

"I just need you to find a pen that Groff gave me. Uh, it should be in the kitchen maybe." He instructs.

You get up from the bed, the crinkling of the candy packages being heard clearly through the phone and Rafe raises a brow.

"You're not eating the whole candy shelf empty, are you?" He asks, stopping to walk for a moment to place his hand on his hip. "Because I remember that I specifically told you not to go near it while I'm gone."

"Uh...nooo, course not daddy..." You murmur while making your way to the kitchen."

Rafe sees right through your lie like he always does. "We'll talk about this when I'm back."

"M'in the kitchen now." You change the topic, looking over the counter surfaces. "You mean like my cwayons?"

He chuckles. "No, no, um, like the ones I use for work, y'know? Look through the drawers, it should be in there." He says and you do, finding a black pen with golden engraving.

"Found it daddy!" You giggle in triumph.

"Good girl." He praises you, making you smile brightly. "Can you try and tell me what's written on it?"

"Oh, um, s'hard but...Riyadh, Mimouna, Essaouria, Maroc. That right?" You mumble, embarrassed if he couldn't understand.

"Okay, yeah, I saw a sign of that. Thank you, baby. You did a good job, proud of ya." He says, making his way to where he saw that sign of the hotel.

"Daddy...I miss you." You admit quietly, fiddling with the hem of his shirt that you're wearing, wishing he was here and cuddling you.

You are a clingy person in the first place and that only increases when you're little, the fact that he's already gone for a while and most likely will be for a bit longer has you feeling lonely and sad.

"I miss you too kid...I promise I'll be back soon, yeah?" He assures you. "I love you."

"Lub you too, daddy. Pwease be careful and don' talk to strangers!" You say, recounting what he often tells you.

Rafe laughs softly at that. "I will. Be good until I'm back."

Then the line goes dead and you sigh, going back to the bedroom to continue your Bluey marathon, snuggling back into Rafe's pillow that still smells like him.

Taglist

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @wandaslittlewhore @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse

@mythixmagic @iris-xoxo-juhu

For Rafe:

@chiaraanatra @chimindity @erikasurfer

[zyafics-recs]

reblogging comment review from @zyafics

everytime i read this series i feel like im entering the battlefield 🚬😮‍💨my annotations below hehe ⬇️

It was unthinkable to be contemplating about gravestones. How could you sum up your family in limited words or dates, let alone choose a font for it?

ur writing has such PERSONALITY in it, i swear to god when i read this in beta, i was so in awe

Your first thought had been telling Topper, your only real family left, but he was as much Rafe’s as he was yours, and when it came down to it, he was still his best friend. Loyal to him since they were five, and jesus knows how he’d react if he found out about this. He’d most likely freak the fuck out and tell Rafe everything, thinking he was doing the right thing, or worse, letting it slip to Ruthie.

this parallels perfectly to the first chapter where topper called rafe when reader was leaving, so not only is this paragraph giving us an at-point breakdown, but it's referring evidence that topper would slip and tell rafe

It’s then you recognized how small your world was. How few people were truly yours.

their lives are so intertwined that reader doesn't know who to turn to when she needs independence 😭 oh curse rafe and his big dick

Today, it was just you, a few kids and teens dotted along the beach with oversized trash bags. It wasn’t even noon, but the sun felt like it was scorching you alive. It was laughable, really, standing under this blistering sun with a cheap trash bag and an endless stretch of sand to clean. 

this specific paragraph i wanted to highlight because i thought it was so descriptive and imaginative, but simplistic in a way that didn't feel like it was purple prose.

The kids were watching you again, with that look of curiosity. You couldn’t look them in the eye. It wasn’t their fault. They just didn’t understand that sometimes the grown-ups didn’t know what they were doing either. 

the last line EATS BITCH IT EATS

 “You should sit down.”

oh suck a dick

It was hard to believe the two of you had once burned hotter than any bonfire, two people who got under each other’s skin, in love, and in hate.

in love to hate omg

Instead, he narrowed his eyes, “You think I don’t know what fine looks like? I was there.”

THIS IS SO COLD BUT IT SHOWED HOW THEIR RELATIONSHIP IS SO WELL, HOW INTERTWINED THEY ARE WITH ONE ANOTHER

And the worst part? You could see that frustration in his eyes, the same look he used to give you when he’d reached his limit with you.You wondered if he ever got to that point with Sofia.

i would crashout

Sofia—the one who looked like she'd been ripped off from some perfect postcard, all wide-eyed sweetness and gentle smiles. She probably never challenged him, snapped back, or made him want to pull his hair out.

hm.

This was a version of you only Rafe could bring out.

they're so toxic and dynamic and i love them

Your chest hurt like you’d been run over a hundred times—it felt suffocating. “I hate you.”For the first time, you thought he might actually leave you here. 

that stopped me cold i had to write something in my diary

His fingers stopped as if your words had made an impact, his lips pressed into a thin line. Your vision blurred as he leaned in, his touch hovering as if to wipe away the tear running down your cheek, but he didn’t, instead, he closed his hand into a fist and drew back, his face just inches from yours. A faint, humorless smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he clicked the seatbelt into place. He made a low humming noise, that thing he did when he was getting ready to make someone feel two inches tall.  "Yeah? Get in line."

LISTEN LISTEN LISTEN I'M LISTENING TO BAD OMENS BY 5SOS AND IT'S AT THE BEATS AND WHILE I READ THIS, IT FITTED PERFECTLY OHMYGOD

Rafe drove fast, every rev of the engine matching the churning in your stomach perfectly. You sat there, trembling, the dread building with every mile that passed. You gripped the seatbelt so hard it felt like your entire body might go numb, and stared straight ahead, breathing shallow, trying to ignore the sting in your eyes.

i wanted to highlight this specific paragraph because i adore the writing, something about it made me feel every single atom of the scene

“Would you stop?” His voice softened for the first time, as if he was trying to reach some part of you that he thought still cared. “You look like you haven’t slept in days, like you haven’t eaten anything that wasn’t out of a vending machine. I know you don’t want my help, but can you just stop for a second and—”“And what?” you interrupted.“And think! If you don’t get in there, I’ll drag you in myself.”Your heart raced, “You wouldn’t dare.”Rafe stepped closer; his jaw set in determination. “Try me.”“You’re not coming in."He blinked like the idea hadn’t even occurred to him. “What?”

HE DIDN'T EXPECT THAT SHIT NO NO

“Yeah, I got someone.”

that's right baby tell em

💌 — ugh, something about this part has been so dynamic, in the way it's constructed, the way it flows so naturally, the way the dialogues are so emotionally-charged but bounces off one another seamlessly. it was like i was watching a perfectly-curated film, where the dialogues were performed by seasoned actors. i love love their arguments. i love how intense it always gets, how they have this push-pull against each other, this hate-love, this line they can't even comprehend nor define. and i love how you written it so beautifully, that you communicate the intensity and depth of this relationship but aggression, tension, and hurt.

LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - FIVE

pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia. chapter warnings: mention of pregnancy; abortion; lack of self-care

You’ve had to make a lot of unfortunate decisions in your life.

Choosing a place for your entire family to rest for eternity, picking the caskets, the headstones—it felt like deciding which curtains to buy for the house, except you were burying your entire close family.

After the crash, your parents were gone instantly, just like that—no goodbyes, no warning, just there one moment and gone the next.

But your sister survived. Three days. You thought maybe that was a sign, she’d live despite everything, and you wouldn’t be left alone.

Two weeks later, the doctors told you it was time, but you couldn’t accept it. You held her hand, begging her to stay, telling her every promise you could think of if she opened her eyes.

When the monitors finally went flat, you couldn’t feel anything but desperation. Rafe had to pull you out of there, his arms locked around you while you kicked and screamed, sobbing and begging your sister not to go, not to leave you here.

You fought him with everything you had left, clawing, crying, pleading for just one more second. You were screaming so loud you didn’t even recognize your voice. Everything good had been ripped away from your hands, there was nothing left of the world you’d known.

After that, you remember sitting in some stuffy funeral home office, skimming through catalogs and hardly seeing the pages through your tears. The caskets all looked the same, the types of wood made no difference to you, fabric linings, all of it felt so wrong. 

None of it was a choice you should have to make. 

It was unthinkable to be contemplating about gravestones. How could you sum up your family in limited words or dates, let alone choose a font for it?

You just picked something neutral and blank, something that didn’t require thought or emotion because, by then, you had nothing left to give. 

Now you were trapped again, caught between a rock and a hard place.

Your first thought had been telling Topper, your only real family left, but he was as much Rafe’s as he was yours, and when it came down to it, he was still his best friend. Loyal to him since they were five, and jesus knows how he’d react if he found out about this. He’d most likely freak the fuck out and tell Rafe everything, thinking he was doing the right thing, or worse, letting it slip to Ruthie.

Ruthie—no chance you’d involve her. She’d just see this as another fucked up piece of gossip she could hold over your head, another way to judge or control you. She was “friend” only in the loosest sense of the word.

Kelce was the last person you’d consider turning to for something this serious. He has always been there, but you never got close. He was too much of an instigator, always pushing Rafe to do reckless things he’d regret later, peer pressuring him in ways that made you wonder if he even knew what loyalty meant. He had this weird loyalty to Ruthie, defending her comments as if she was some misunderstood angel when really, she was just… mean.

So that left Sarah. 

It felt weird, thinking of her as the person you’d call on for something so serious, she was the only one who felt… safe. She wouldn’t judge, wouldn’t pry, she’d seen what the worst kind of family conflict could do, and she’d keep this private, just for you.

It’s then you recognized how small your world was. How few people were truly yours.

You were pretty sure no one in this town would fully understand, they’d just offer their "advice," as if they knew you, seen what you’d been through. 

The truth was, they didn’t know shit. They hadn't seen you holding your sister’s hand, begging her to stay alive. They didn’t know what it was like to bury everything that made you feel like a person, like you belonged somewhere, and have to get up the next day like nothing happened.

Nine days, you would be halfway across the country, and you needed someone. You pictured saying it out loud: “I’m pregnant", just those two words, to someone’s face, you had no idea what to say next.

Maybe you’d tell them that it wasn’t about wanting it gone out of spite or shame, but because you couldn’t bring a child into a world where you felt this alone.

Earlier that morning, you’d stared down at your phone, thumb itching to click on Sarah’s name, like just pressing "call" could fix everything. You despised how needy it made you feel—reaching out, when you’d prided yourself on surviving alone. 

You didn’t have much time to ponder about it, because you were stuck at the beach cleanup.

Just like every other summer, another "social responsibility" event that your late father’s foundation insisted you smile through. Even back then, when they were alive, your summers were a carousel of charity galas, fundraisers, endless hours of small talk, and impeccably arranged seating charts.

The board members of the foundation probably thought it would “ground” you—remind you of your privilege, of your “responsibility” to give back. As if a couple of hours and a few bags of garbage would somehow balance the scales. They never seemed to understand how much of it was all for show, this shallow idea that if you looked the part, no one would care to learn more.

But, still, you’d show up. You always did. Smile, make just enough small talk to appease the right people. 

Today, it was just you, a few kids and teens dotted along the beach with oversized trash bags. It wasn’t even noon, but the sun felt like it was scorching you alive. It was laughable, really, standing under this blistering sun with a cheap trash bag and an endless stretch of sand to clean. 

Kie, who was so genuinely invested in this whole “save the planet” thing it was almost enviable was there too with JJ, who was running around her as usual, wearing his ‘I’m just here for the ride’ expression but enjoying himself. The love between them made you miss having someone who cared in ways that weren’t just calculated moves.

She waved at you from the shoreline, her eyes moving to the trash bag you were barely half-filling.

You weren’t friends, but if Sarah liked her, you did too.

You offered a faint smile back, tired, because between all the shit you’d been thinking about, you'd forgotten to eat, to drink anything, and every time you leaned down to grab another crumpled plastic bottle or a bit of seaweed-laden garbage, you felt like your legs were about to give out on you. 

Every now and then, she would throw a quick, appraising glance your way, like she was expecting you to miraculously become invested in the beach’s ecosystem.

You didn’t have it in you to pretend this was enjoyable today. The “effortless” philanthropy your family loved was a lifestyle you’d never bought into. It didn’t matter how many smiling photos of you had ended up on some charity’s social media—you knew you’d rather be anywhere else.

You had to take a break every few minutes, leaning against a pier post, trying to get yourself together as a few of the younger kids gave you wary glances. You could have left—probably should have.

You managed a tight-lipped smile, giving a thumbs-up that said, Just doing great over here, guys!

You were in a long t-shirt, which hung over your bikini and shorts, the fabric slightly oversized, to help hide what was still a small change in your body. Paranoia was your new best friend, always worrying that someone would notice something different, even if you didn’t have a noticeable bump yet.

Bending down to grab another plastic bottle, you felt a stab of nausea hit you hard, rolling up from your stomach, thick and sour, but you ignored it. Not here. Not now.

You straightened up too fast, and your vision blurred slightly, that familiar sense of vertigo hitting you. You took a shallow breath, ignoring the burn at the back of your throat, your hands shaking slightly as you adjusted the bag slung over your shoulder.

One girl looked up at you with these wide eyes kids like to pull, “Are you okay?” 

You smiled, brushing it off as if you weren’t about two seconds away from collapsing. “Of course. Just... need a second.” 

The kids were watching you again, with that look of curiosity. You couldn’t look them in the eye. It wasn’t their fault. They just didn’t understand that sometimes the grown-ups didn’t know what they were doing either. 

Just a few more bags of trash and you’d be able to get back to your car, maybe grab some water from the cooler in the trunk, sit down, and think about it.

This used to be easy, you got a weird kind of enjoyment from these cleanups, running around with your sister, making it a competition to see who could pick up the most trash, laughing until your stomachs hurt over stupid jokes about jellyfish and sunscreen. Back then, this was just one of a thousand little family traditions, one of those things that felt effortless.

Now, sweat dripped down the back of your neck, making your skin prickle uncomfortably.

You’d long given up wiping it away, knowing that it would only come back thicker and hotter the next second. Every instinct told you to run off to the parking lot, and sit in the car with the AC blasting until your body remembered it didn’t hate you.

Leaning down for one last bottle wedged in the sand, your legs wobbled and gave way beneath you. Just like that, your vision was spotty, as if someone had turned down the brightness on the entire beach, and you pitched forward.

Just as you felt yourself going down, a hand caught your arm, pulling you back up.

"Whoa, whoa, you okay?" A teenage boy, maybe sixteen, gripped your arm firmly, keeping you upright.

How much longer could they realistically expect you to go on, plastering on that sweet, dutiful smile? How much “grounding” could one person take?

You blinked, trying to clear the haze in your eyes, "I’m fine. Just a little lightheaded, really, it’s fine,” you insisted, but then a shadow loomed beside you. 

Your vision was so foggy that it took seconds for you to register it.

You looked up slowly, feeling a familiar drop in your stomach as you realized who it was.

The last time you’d been this close to him, the two of you had been screaming insults across the room, Lily having to physically step in. She’d forced him to leave before you two killed each other. It was a miracle you hadn’t punched him then and there.

 “You should sit down.”

It felt like a sidekick to your chest.

The sound of his voice was grinding on your nerves, and just like that you were stuck back in your dream, a real memory, leaning against him, his hand playing with a strand of your hair as he laughed at something you’d said, the two of you carefree under a golden sunset. 

Except this was real.

Rafe was shirtless, with his board tucked under one arm, surf wax staining his fingers, and the sun glinting off his damp skin, like he was God’s gift to the Outer Banks. His buzzed hair was dark and wet, droplets trailing down his temples and catching along his jawline. His cheeks were flushed, a little red from the heat.

You looked away, somewhere over his shoulder, anywhere but at him, refusing to let him see you in this fragile state.

“Go away. I’m fine.”

But he didn’t move.

He’d been summoned from your absolute worst memories, catching you at your lowest when you least wanted his help. Typical. 

“No,” he refused firmly, with that stupid, stubborn look that made you want to throw something at his head. “I’ve seen you almost fall three times now.”

“Maybe if you stopped looking at me like a creep, you wouldn’t have to see me ‘almost fall.”

“I wasn’t—"

You grounded your teeth, “Just go back to surfing.”

Rafe let out a dry laugh, shaking his head as if you were the one acting crazy. “Yeah, 'cause you look perfectly stable right now.”

He'd always been a master of the passive-aggressive half-sneer, the art of making you feel like everyone else was imposing on his day, no matter the situation.

“Don’t act like you care.” you snapped, voice carrying over the sand, earning a few glances from nearby kids.

He ran a hand over his face, looking around as if he didn’t want to be there any more than you did, mouth pressed into a tight line. You wanted to scream that this was his fault too, that every choice he’d made led to you standing here alone, exhausted, and terrified.

“Water would help, y’know”, his tone just shy of patronizing “You can’t go around dehydrating yourself just to make a point.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Your fingers twitched with the urge to send him stumbling to the other side of the beach, you knew that any sudden movement would make you light-headed again, and the last thing you wanted was to give him more proof of your weakness.

The kid—still standing there, eyes wide and darting between you both—looked like he was watching a reality TV show when Kiara appeared at your side.

“Let’s not do this here,” she begged under her breath, handing you a bottle of water she’d brought over, a kindness you didn’t want but couldn’t reject. “Just sit down for a second, please?”

JJ followed, always with that air of easygoing nonchalance, but his eyes were serious as he glanced from you to Rafe.

“She’s right. Just take a second, yeah?” He looked over at Rafe, “Maybe you should leave,” he said pointedly.

“Maybe you should mind your fuckin’ business Maybank.”

“Look, uh,” the kid stammered, knowing he could get caught in the crossfire. “I’ll… I’ll go see if anyone needs help further down the beach…”

You waved him off, your focus still locked on Rafe as the kid all but bolted away, you didn’t want anyone to think they had to “rescue” you.

You tried to take a step back, but the little strength you had in you disappeared as you felt your knees wobble.

"Jesus," you heard him groan, and then his hands were on your arms, board on the sand, holding you as you stumbled. "I told you to sit down."

You shook his hands off, "Don’t tell me what to do.”

It was hard to believe the two of you had once burned hotter than any bonfire, two people who got under each other’s skin, in love, and in hate.

He let out an exasperated sigh while you took a sip from the water Kiara handed you, ignoring how your hands were still shaking around the bottle. 

She spoke again, trying to be the voice of reason, "We’re here to help the community, remember?"

JJ smirked, "Yeah, think the sea turtles are rooting for y’all to work out your issues somewhere else.”

You ignored his joke, keeping your eyes on Rafe, your pride and stubbornness refusing to let him win, “I’m fine.”

“Yeah?”

He looked you over, his gaze fixed to your warm cheeks and the dewy sheen across your temple, “You look real fine, don’t you?” He didn’t even try to cloak his sarcasm.

God, he could be so exasperating.

He couldn’t understand. How could he even think he could look at you now and know anything about who you were? Standing there, with that stupid board and that look, like he couldn’t imagine anything bothering him as much as this seemed to be bothering you.

As if he hadn’t already ruined you in so many ways that felt impossible to get over. 

“Don’t you have something better to do?” 

“Oh, believe me, I do,” he drawled, his eyes trailing from the waves back to you. 

You were tired of this game, of fighting him every time he showed up only to leave you feeling even emptier than before.

Your fists clenched, and you opened your mouth to hurl something back, but the dizziness hit you again. Before you could compose yourself, Rafe’s arm wrapped around your waist, strong and frustratingly secure, holding you upright with an ease that made your skin crawl.

He had seen you at your weakest, had been there at the hospital after the accident, keeping you together when you were certain you’d break. 

Yet, here you were, in a sick way, back in his arms, all broken apart.

“That’s it. I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“I hate to say it, but he’s right,” JJ chimed in, hand shielding his eyes from the sun.

The world alone had all kinds of alarms going off in your brain. You fought back instinctively, your hands pushing at his chest, freeing your arm. 

“I told you, I’m fine.”

He let go, but he didn’t back away.

Instead, he narrowed his eyes, “You think I don’t know what fine looks like? I was there.”

He was there. And you didn’t want to be reminded of it, not in front of other people. 

He meant the exhaustion and hunger pains you’d welcomed after your family was gone, embraced even, because it meant you wouldn’t have to feel anything else.

You’d wanted to disappear, and he’d been there—dragging you back, forcing you to drink water and swallow bites of food, even when you pushed him away. He’d seen you at your absolute lowest, where you didn’t care if you made it through the day. 

The thought of the hospital, tests, questions, you fought it, but your vision was already blurring.

You couldn’t let him find out about the baby. 

Your breathing felt tighter, each shallow breath only making the spinning worse, you could sense your body giving in to the exhaustion

“Shit,” you heard him curse, sounding distant now like he was farther away. 

You felt yourself sway as if the ground was opening beneath you, there was a ringing in your ears that made his voice sound muffled but you still felt his arms catching you again, holding you upright before you fell.

Waking up in a moving vehicle was like emerging from a nightmare, except somehow, this was worse, because you were no longer at the beach. 

You blinked hard, desperate to wipe the fogginess in your eyes and when it did go away, you realized who was behind the wheel. 

Rafe. 

Your heart pounded—your desperation to keep the baby a secret, how you almost passed out at the beach, and the fact that now he was most likely driving you to the hospital.

“What the hell are you doing?” you practically screamed, your voice hoarse from the lack of water.

He didn’t spare you a glance, “You passed out, genius. I’m taking you to the hospital.”

Your whole body went rigid. “Are you insane?”

��Me?” He scoffed, as he kept his focus on the road. “You practically ate sand back there. You’re not fine.”

“Turn the car around. I’ll call my driver and be fine.” You huffed like he was too dumb to understand. “I don’t need your help.”

He let out a dry laugh, still not looking at you. 

“Yeah. You’re out of your mind if you think I’m letting you out of this car right now.”

“Rafe, I’m not kidding,” you warned, louder this time. “Stop. The. Car.”

He gave you a sideways glance, his grip on the wheel tightening.

“Not happening.”

Your heart hammered as you realized he wasn’t going to back down, you were driven by sheer desperation.

“Fine, then I’ll do it myself." you muttered, reaching for the door handle. 

Anything to get out of this suffocating car before he dragged you all the way to the ER and they found out you were pregnant—with his baby, no less.

His eyes widened, finally snapping from the road to your hand on the handle.

“Are you crazy? Get your hand off that, I’m fuckin' serious.”

You yanked at it anyway, twisting the handle and pulling with spiteful defiance, and Rafe’s expression went from annoyed to full-on rage. He swerved the car to the side of the road, tires skidding as he slammed the brakes and practically threw the car into park.

Before he could even stop fully, you flung the door open and stumbled out, sandals sinking into the gravel as you stalked away.

You didn’t get more than a few feet, he was already bolting after you.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you muttered, digging your nails into your palms. 

How the hell had it come to this? You were stuck here, pregnant with his child, and he played the reluctant hero like you needed him swooping in to save you.

Rafe reached you in two strides, his fingers were digging into his forehead, pointing at it with exasperation imprinted into every corner of his face. 

“Are you out of your fuckin' mind?” He sounded like he was talking to some unruly child.

And the worst part? You could see that frustration in his eyes, the same look he used to give you when he’d reached his limit with you.

You wondered if he ever got to that point with Sofia.

What would he do if she was the one almost fainting? Would he still look like she was some colossal burden, or would he soften, maybe even smile as he fussed over her, acting like he wanted to help?

You hated yourself for caring at all.

Sofia—the one who looked like she'd been ripped off from some perfect postcard, all wide-eyed sweetness and gentle smiles. She probably never challenged him, snapped back, or made him want to pull his hair out.

There was no way he’d look at her like she was a mess, someone he just had to “deal with.” He likely saw her as easy, perfect, all soft and sweet words, everything you weren’t.

This wasn’t who you wanted to be, and yet here you were, stumbling around half-dead and pregnant with his child.

“I’m sorry, am I bothering you?” You spat the words, watching his jaw clench tighter. 

He exhaled sharply, rolling his eyes. 

“Unbelievable. Only you could take me trying to help and turn it into this.”

You were done. You were done with the memories, with the torment of seeing him be something better for someone else. 

“Help?” You laughed bitterly, the anger engulfing you so hard it felt as if it choking you. “You think this is help? That I need you, of all people?”

He took a step back, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I'm trying to help."

You hated how calm he was, how rational he sounded.

It was maddening when all you wanted was for him to get angry, to let that icy surface crack, to give you even a glimpse of something real, something that wasn’t just irritation or sarcasm.

You wanted proof that he still was affected by you, that this was the same guy who used to be everything, who’d promised you everything.

But you swallowed it down, straightening up, because there was no way in hell, you’d let him see even a hint of weakness.

“Trust me,” you shot back, “I’ll be just fine without you.”

He raised an eyebrow, a bitter smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, “Get in the car.”

“No,” you said, firm and unyielding, every inch of you screaming that you wouldn’t let him decide anything for you ever again.

“Fine. Have it your way.”

In one swift move, he reached out, his hands gripping your arms with enough pressure to pull you forward, lifting you clean off your feet. Your breath caught in a furious gasp as he practically dragged you back to the car, his fingers warm against your skin, like you were just a mild convenience. 

“Put me down!” 

You struggled against his hold, jabbing at his chest with what little strength you could muster, but he didn’t even flinch, didn’t so much as hesitate. 

“Rafe, I swear—”

He opened the passenger door with one hand, keeping a firm grip on you with the other, before finally setting you down—not gently—onto the seat. Without meaning to, tears began falling as you struggled against his hands. You could feel them wetting your cheeks, your voice was breaking, jumping to distress as you tried to twist out of his hold, feeling so small under his unrelenting strength.

He almost knelt in front of you, reaching for the seat belt with one hand, while his other remained firmly on your shoulder, holding you still. You felt trapped, impresioned as you tried to turn in every direction, hands weakly pushing him back, but he caught them effortlessly.

“Stop!” you meekly choked out, failing to shove him, the words coming out shameful.

You could feel your heart breaking all over again.

You hated that he was seeing you like this, how he dared to act like you needed him—it made your skin crawl. You hated that he could do this, like he had any right like you’d ever wanted him involved in this part of your life, let alone now.

This was a version of you only Rafe could bring out.

You glared up at him, practically shaking with rage as Rafe ignored your protests like you were nothing more than a child throwing a fit. 

“Get your hands off me.”

His jaw tightened, ignoring the flailing punches and slaps grazing him, and you couldn’t stop the sob that escaped, loud and ugly.

“I’m not letting you kill yourself out of spite.”

Your chest hurt like you’d been run over a hundred times—it felt suffocating. “I hate you.”

For the first time, you thought he might actually leave you here. 

His fingers stopped as if your words had made an impact, his lips pressed into a thin line. Your vision blurred as he leaned in, his touch hovering as if to wipe away the tear running down your cheek, but he didn’t, instead, he closed his hand into a fist and drew back, his face just inches from yours. 

A faint, humorless smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he clicked the seatbelt into place. He made a low humming noise, that thing he did when he was getting ready to make someone feel two inches tall. 

 "Yeah? Get in line."

Without another word, he pulled back, slamming the door shut, and walking around to the driver’s side.

You wiped at your cheeks, furious that he’d seen you like this, that he had the power to break you down. It was humiliating, sitting here in his car, every part of your body screaming to escape. 

He got in, started the engine, neither of you spoke.

Rafe drove fast, every rev of the engine matching the churning in your stomach perfectly. You sat there, trembling, the dread building with every mile that passed. You gripped the seatbelt so hard it felt like your entire body might go numb, and stared straight ahead, breathing shallow, trying to ignore the sting in your eyes.

You bit back another wave of nausea. Weakness.

You’d already shown him too much. 

You didn’t need a lecture from some doctor on how you “should’ve taken better care of yourself", let alone with Rafe there, watching, scrutinizing, acting like this was his business when he’d made it clear long ago that it wasn’t. He was in your space in the worst way, reopening all the wounds.

You were seething. He had no right to do this.

The thought made you want to drop dead—doctor would walk in, casually drop the news about the baby, and you'd be left watching his reaction in real time.

You looked at the entrance to the ER. The vision of anyone running tests, of some well-meaning nurse, coming in and spilling everything about the baby in front of him—no way. You wouldn’t let that happen.

He wasted no time getting out, moving around to your side, while you sat rigidly, staring straight ahead. His hand was already on the door, yanking it open, looking down at you like he was ready to drag you inside if he had to.

You weren’t moving. You knew the second you stepped inside, it would be over. 

“C���mon,” Rafe pressed, his hand outstretched, hovering there like he thought he could compel you to listen. “Stop being so stubborn.”

You crossed your arms over your stomach, refusing to meet his eyes.

“I’m not going in.”

Rafe let out a sigh, nearing his limit, and knelt down to your level.

“Look, you passed out. I’m not leaving until you get checked out.”

“You’re gonna be here for a while then.”

“Would you stop?” His voice softened for the first time, as if he was trying to reach some part of you that he thought still cared. “You look like you haven’t slept in days, like you haven’t eaten anything that wasn’t out of a vending machine. I know you don’t want my help, but can you just stop for a second and—”

“And what?” you interrupted.

“And think! If you don’t get in there, I’ll drag you in myself.”

Your heart raced, “You wouldn’t dare.”

Rafe stepped closer; his jaw set in determination. “Try me.”

“You’re not coming in."

He blinked like the idea hadn’t even occurred to him. “What?”

Maybe he was seeing the protection you’d built up around yourself since he left, how there was no longer any crack left open for him to slip through.

“I don’t need you. I don’t want you in there.”

“Fine.” His tone was clipped, restrained. “But I’ll be right here.”

You slammed the door shut behind you, not letting him your legs still shaking. You’d rather collapse face-first into the concrete than give him the satisfaction of listening to him. 

“Yeah, you do that,” you replied, turning and walking toward the entrance, refusing to look back.

Stepping inside, you felt a slight tremor run through you—part relief, part panic. The lights were too bright, almost white. Your heart wobbled, replaying how he’d been such a fucking asshole to you.

You’d forgotten how mean he could be, how easily he could go from angry to something so frigid it made you want to cry yourself to sleep.

“Hi there,” The receptionist greeted, her eyes moving over you with a professional once-over, “What brings you in today?”

You forced a small smile, knowing she wouldn’t buy it.

“Just…got a little dehydrated, that’s all.”

“Okay…let’s just get some basic information.” She clicked into her computer, her fingers poised over the keyboard. “Name?”

You cleared your throat, rattling off your full name, she nodded, typing it in.

“Have you experienced any other symptoms besides dizziness?”

“Nothing serious,” you replied, dismissively. “It’s just the heat, like I said. I just need some water and I’ll be good as new.”

This had to be a fucking nightmare you got sucked in, you could sense your blood pressure spike.

She tapped her screen and glanced back at you.

“Alright, Miss Thornton, it looks like we’ll just need a few quick details here to get you all checked in. Can I start with your insurance provider?”

A chuckle almost slipped out of you. Insurance—God, you were fine with insurance. What you weren’t okay with was everything else. You answered, “Blue Cross.”

She asked for your birthdate, which you gave on autopilot, hoping she’d skip any weird or invasive questions. “Any allergies?”

You shook your head. Please, just let this be over. 

“It’s really not a big deal,” You blurted out, giving her a thin smile and forcing calm into your voice. “I just need the IV. You know, standard stuff.”

“Of course, dear. We’ll get things started, it will include routine tests, like bloodwork, just to be safe.”

Bloodwork. Perfect. You were doing everything you could to keep from falling into that spiraling panic mode. 

Please, just get me in, get me out, and don’t find anything.

“Just head down to Room 12.”

All you could think was that you wanted this to be over—before the whole town, or worse, he, found out. It made you want to scream. He was the last person who should be outside.

This was his fault. You’d never be here if he hadn’t shown up.

The next hour passed in seconds—questions, forms, an IV drip.

They’d done blood work, too, but you’d sighed in relief when they’d told you the results wouldn’t be ready immediately. As far as they knew, you’d just overdone it, and now, as you lay on a cot in a room that reeked of sick people, all they’d prescribed was rest, hydration, and food.

When the nurse asked if anyone could pick you up, the thought of calling someone, asking them to see you like this, made you delirious. You didn’t need anyone; you were perfectly fine on your own.

But you also didn’t want Rafe and his delusional ass to barge through the doors.

The nurse moved around you awkwardly, eyes still expectant, as if you were just a button away from a reliable “someone” to come running.

You looked at her, controlling the compulsion to yell. Little people ever bothered to check on you, to show up for more than just the drama or gossip.

Out of them, only one face bounced around in your head.

“Yeah, I got someone.”

TAGLIST: @maybankslover @october-baby25 @haruvalentine4321 @hopelesslydevoted2paige @rafebb @rafesbby @whytheylosttheirminds

@zyafics @astarlights @bruher @nosebeers @carrerascameron @serrendiipty @sunny1616

@yootvi @ditzyzombiesblog @psychocitylights @maibelitaaura @kiiyomei

@stoned-writer @justafangirls-blog-deactivated2

@starkeygirlposts @enjoymyloves @ijustwanttoreadlols @icaqttt

[lawofnova]

Shifting Insights with Ms. Nova: Pt. 4 - The Witness vs the Ego

Expanding more on Pt. 1

The “witness” is that quiet, observing part of you. It’s the awareness that watches everything but doesn’t get caught up in it. It’s the part of you that is not your ego or self-image. It’s simply you at your core, observing your thoughts, feelings, and experiences without judgment. It doesn’t get wrapped up in your emotions or your past. It simply watches.

The witness is always with you. It is your pure consciousness. It is “I AM.” Outside of thoughts and emotions, it is your awareness and state of being.

You don’t have to access the witness through meditation. That’s a misconception. Like I said, it’s always with you. You can hang out with them all day long if you’d like. They’re your ego’s homie—on standby all day, just observing through it. (Yes, at our core, we sound like lonely creeps.)

Notice the quiet moments: There are gaps between your thoughts—there is this stillness. That is the witness. All you need to do is start becoming aware of it, and the more you do, the more you’ll realize it’s always there.

Observe without reacting: When experiencing strong emotions, practice observing them. Don’t let them consume you in any shape or form. Just notice them, let them come, and let them go. You don’t have to be detached, like they say. Please, just be indifferent. Your pure awareness is already detached naturally.

Everyday awareness: You can do this anywhere. While you’re walking, breathing, eating, or even showering—just try to tune in to the present moment. That’s when you’ll start naturally shifting into that pure awareness.

So, let me ask you—why do we think we’ll get anywhere with our ego running your shifting journey? Look, if you’re meditating to reach your desired reality/state, I respect that! At least you’re tapping into pure consciousness, that ‘I AM’ state.

But why do we keep assuming our ego—all the old beliefs, insecurities, and limiting foundations we've built in this world—is going to be our best tool for manifesting/shifting? Why do we keep trying to manifest and shift using our ego as the guide? Ego is tied to what we know and have experienced, while the witness, pure consciousness, is about limitless potential.

Let’s talk about why the ego doesn’t work as well as pure consciousness when it comes to creating your reality.

When we rely on the ego’s programming, we tend to create resistance because our ego is stuck in what it already knows. It’s tied to our self-image, our fears, and old ideas about what’s possible.

When people are focused on the shifting journey through their ego, they’re often operating in mindset of control. They want to “force” themselves into this new reality/state by doing certain things or following a specific method, hoping to bypass the “steps” of the 3D world.

But here’s the thing: the ego is limited. It’s always pulling from what it’s seen, heard, and believed to be true. It’s stuck in linear thinking (You know... cause and effect, the whole I MUST meditate for 30 minutes to become this shebang).

You’re attaching to time, space, effort, and struggle. You think the more you try, the more you’ll get, but objection! What the hell are you doing? You're further tangling yourself into the web of the old reality/state. Are you the spider or the damn fly? Trick question. You're the whole f****** web. You’re the one creating the resistance by attaching to the 3D and trying to control it, when all you need to do is shift your state to the Witness. You’re the force that holds yourself in place. See how that works? Okay. Sorry, sorry. I won't curse anymore.

Once you shift into the Witness, you stop being tangled in that 3D web. You just float above it, where the real sh** happens. Oops, my bad. I'm sorry. So next time you’re feeling stuck, remember—you are the witness, not the victim of your thoughts/identity/ego.

Start shifting your state through the witness. Start affirming through the witness. Manifest from the witness. Use the witness to remove resistance (they rly don't gaf). Shift into your Desired Reality through the WITNESS.

Witness = K.O

- Ms. Nova signing off, xoxo 💋

[relia-robot-writes]

I am the Princess in the Tower.

You know, people hear that, and they say, "Oh, that poor Princess, she must be so lonesome up there. Some cruel fate must have befallen her, to be trapped so."

It's true, to a certain extent. I am lonesome. There's no shortage of princes and princesses - I have to wonder where they all come from - who come to try to rescue me from my captivity. None of them ever get particularly close, of course. The Tower is surrounded by a dark and tangled wood, monsters of flesh and stone stalk the grounds, invisible barriers and devious traps block all entry, and even if they got to the base of the Tower, they'd have to figure out how to climb up a sheer, frictionless vertical surface while automatically triggered fireballs rained down upon them... it's pretty well defended, is what I'm trying to say. Every single one of them gets sent packing, cursing the wizard who built the Tower and imprisoned me.

Which is, you know, pretty funny, when you get right down to it.

I mean, it's only natural to assume that, right? Wizards are mysterious, they pop in and out all the time. If one decides to suddenly vanish one day, well, he's probably just off calculating the angles of reality, or whatever, he'll be back. And if a girl appears in his Tower, well, of course he kidnapped a Princess for his own unfathomable wizard purposes.

It hardly matters that there aren't any kingdoms missing a Princess.

I don't correct them, anyway. It's safer for me if nobody knows who I am, or how I've changed. Safety was, after all, why I built the Tower in the first place. You think wizards do this for fun? Out in the middle of nowhere, forced to conjure food and water? Having to walk up and down twenty flights of stairs if I feel like going outside?

Wizards build towers when they are scared shitless.

See, I cast this divination spell when I was an apprentice, and I fucked it up. It constantly shows me visions of my own doom...

Not buying it?

Well, there was this devil, see, and I tricked him into thinking I'd signed my soul away, so now he stalks me forever, seeking vengeance through the very shadows themselves...

No good?

Well, I was cursed as a wee babe, and now all the world is my enemy, from the mightiest warrior to the softest blade of grass, and each one thirsts for my blood!

...I would have died to that one, like, immediately, huh.

Okay. Fine. I'm just... a coward. I built my Tower as far away from everything and everyone that could possibly do me harm as I could. I studied magic because it felt like the best way to avoid any and all hard work, conflict, and danger. I held off on telling anyone anything about who I truly was or what I wanted until I felt I could be absolutely safe.

And still, with "rescuers" at my door just waiting for my hand, I can't bear to look at them. The idea of one even getting close enough to attempt to climb the Tower (it's happened more than once) is terrifying. I could ask them to stop, but who would believe me? "Yes, I, the Princess in the Tower, am totes fine, please go away forever thanks, I am not an evil wizard." That'd go over well.

There's another princess that just made her way through the Woods and slayed one of my constructs. She'll be at the Tower base soon. She's got really pretty hair

I wish

I hope that you

Please don't

I'm writing this down here, and then I'm gonna go hide. If you're reading this,

The blue-armored princess flipped the paper over to the other side. It was blank. Her hair smoldered from the fireball she'd almost dodged, and she drummed her fingers on the hilt of her blade as she reread the first side. Aside from the paper, the room - and, indeed, the entire interior of the Tower - seemed completely empty.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

second request, and this one is frost bite ❄️ prompt 29 with theo, i just think it’s sooo him!! thanks <3

Yes, yes it is him! In fact, I am so happy you requested this with him cause I wrote this prompt thinking about him only (๑>◡<๑)

ivy's 1k celebration ❄️ navigation ❄️ prompt list

ˋ°•*⁀➷ THEODORE NOTT #29: "Are you flirting with me or just bored?" "Maybe I'm bored of you not flirting back."

Theodore Nott had been relentless all afternoon. Every time you glanced up from your book, he was already looking at you, smirking like he had some grand secret. Finally, you set down your quill, unable to ignore him any longer.

“Alright, Theo, what is it?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He tilted his head, still grinning that infuriating grin. “Oh, nothing. Just thinking how tragic it is that you keep pretending you don’t want to be close to me.”

You let out an amused scoff. “Close to you? Theo, please. I’m sitting here trying to study, and you’re the one doing all the staring.”

“Because I don’t need to study, I'm smart,” he said, leaning back with a nonchalant shrug. “Besides, I’m just here for the view.” His gaze dropped pointedly to your lips, and you felt a flutter of heat rise in your cheeks. He was shameless.

“Oh, you’re here for the view?” you replied, rolling your eyes. “Well, enjoy it, because 'the view' is all you’re getting.”

His smirk only widened. “We’ll see about that, love.”

You leaned forward, resting your chin on your hand. “Are you flirting with me, or just really, really bored?”

Theo’s eyes sparkled with challenge. “Maybe I'm bored of you not flirting back.”

You laughed, giving him an amused once-over. “Right, because clearly, I’m so smitten with you.”

Theo leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, playful whisper. “Admit it. You love the attention. You’d miss it if I stopped.”

You narrowed your eyes, a teasing glint flashing in them. “Oh? And what would you do if I flirted back? I don't think your poor heart will be able to handle it.”

He hesitated, just for a fraction of a second, but you caught it—and his expression softened just enough to reveal a flicker of surprise. “And you're underestimating my 'poor heart', amore mio. But to answer your question, I’d say it’s about time you stopped hiding your feelings.”

You laughed, hiding the blush that was threatening to escape at the endearment, leaning a bit closer, just close enough to see a faint blush dusting his cheeks despite the smirk he was trying to keep up. “Maybe I will… if you’re lucky.”

And before he could reply, you reached up, placing a soft, lingering kiss on his cheek. His smirk faltered, replaced with a look of stunned surprise as his cheeks went a shade darker.

You pulled back with a coy smile, meeting his eyes for one last glance before standing up. “See you around, Nott,” you said, turning to walk away.

As you left, you made sure to add just a little extra sway to your hips, feeling his gaze practically burn into your back. When you risked a quick look over your shoulder, there he was, watching you with wide eyes and a mixture of admiration and pure disbelief.

And for once, Theo Nott was absolutely, beautifully speechless.

[betterthanakickintheface]

Speaking as a white person... No, people of colour and wanting to be listened to, believed, valued, consulted, and protected in the countries they live in, and are citizens of(I'm Canadian, but I feel like it's all still Very applicable) -daaaaring to be any kind of vocal about how that doesn't happen and how they are, you know, VERY UNDERSTANDABLY not fucking happy about that are NOT the problem

To feel so comfortable saying so just demonstrates how far up your own clearly racist ass you are, no one who wasn't would double down and reiterate that astoundingly wrong opinion again but with more words

And "zero concrete examples"?? You've got some effective fucking blinders on if you can say that and believe it but think that white people's love of moving the goal posts for, and pseudo-intellectualizing away concerns, struggles and very real dangers to REAL PEOPLE who just aren't you/us isn't a very real and hugely documented, and far-reaching problem you're literally just stupid

There is no other way you can look at or hear people sharing their perspective on their own fucking lives and what is important to them as a person who is *specifically* not white and is not interested - and nor should they be - in being told to shut up, keep waiting 'their turn', quiet down, that their extremely valid and NECESSARY voices and experiences get summarily dismissed as "inane" because white people just can't fucking stop deciding that every single discussion about how white people and whiteness have done and continue to do SO much damage is about them specifically and personally that they at "best" allow their discomfort to not only often ignore objective facts about how AT THE VERY LEAST the vast majority of white people and peoples have historically been Very Shitty Indeed to peoples of colour, even people they just think of as 'not as good a white as us *insert north, western, or central European nations especially here*' but also to override or bypass sympathy, empathy, compassion or even willingness to fucking listen to them about their lives to the point that we white people shut anything not complimentary to us down. We are so fucking fragile that we can't seem to fucking get that not everything is about us, for us, concern us, have to include us and it fucking shouldn't have to. Especially when all we seem interested in is having access to any and all spaces so that we can pretend that "no, everyone else is actually wrong about things they-as a group have all professed to have experienced".

Like... Seemingly one of our favourite fucking things to do is brag about supposedly having friends of different ethnicities and cultures to anyone who will listen, so why do so many of us not fucking listen to them??? Why do so many of us then also not care or believe those friends?? Try to help? Aren't they your friends, OUR friends?? Even if it's a hard pill to swallow, why do so many of us white people actively stand in the way of supporting things that will help our friends, partners, family, coworkers(not to mention children, whether connected to you as an individual or not)?? If our friends and loved ones, wider communities are helped, provided for, listened to does that not also benefit us needy white people too by extension of being in the same potentially improving society that doesn't continue to waste so much fucking time and energy on keeping entire peoples down because white people are either insecurity and hate.

White people have been the "not all men" people who get mad when sexual harassment comes up; and yeah, most people know and believe that but that(usually unnecessary) distinction ultimately is diminishing, dismissing and ignoring the point of the matter which is that the generalized statement and belief that "men do sexual harassment" is because so many people have had those kinds of unpleasant interactions or experience, often repeatedly. Even if they were not talking about you specifically, and you've never done anything misogynistic or worse THEY have enough negative experiences with other men that that statement is true to them even if you find it hard to believe.

White people do that whenever anyone says anything about how we have in the past, but also continue to treat people of colour like shit. Like yeah, no shit not all white people are feral racists, just like not all men are creeps... But I dunno if enough people are saying that "more than a few(separate, unrelated, individual) white people have said/done/legislated negative things to and against me" maybe we should fucking SHUUUUT UUUUUP and believe them?? acknowledge that even if we, as individual white people have never knowingly or intentionally been racist there is still clearly A PROBLEM because we keep being told it is a problem.

So yeah, it's very much white people that have held us all back, even the progressive ones because we cant get out of our own way. And when soooo many of us demonstrably have been unable(or unwilling) to even recognize that, let alone do anything to change it it fucking ruins lives in a very real way and if you can't see that...you yourself are part of the problem with white leftists and progressives

**as a white person, and an untagged-by-OP one at that, I totally understand if you'd prefer I remove my addition to your post, in which case I absolutely will 🖤

Every white leftist should read this

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Cold ~ Part 2

MAIN MASTERLIST / MARVEL MASTERLIST / CHRONIC ILLNESS MASTERLIST

Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

Word Count: 2,020ish

Summary: Logan becomes overprotective of you.

Notes: I hope this part makes some sense… I got sick yet again so I'm really craving someone to take care of me.

Cold ~ Part 1

Logan became a master at taking care of you during an arthritic flare-up. The consequence of that was that he also became a master at doing everything he could to make sure that you didn’t flare up. When is why he was marching towards you, with a clear look of anger.

“What are you doing?” He asked as you were stretching in the Danger Room.

“Uh, stretching,” you responded, continuing your movements. “I have a training session with Scott in a few minutes.”

“Not anymore. You’re not training.”

“Logan, I can’t gain more strength in my powers without training.”

“You’ve trained twice already this week.”

“And my current goal is three times.”

“You’re not ready for it yet.”

“I think I know what I’m ready for, Logan.”

“No. You don’t. I can sense that you’re overdoing it.”

“I’m feeling fine. I’m going to train.”

“Everything okay here?” Scott asked, feeling the tension as he entered the room.

“Yes.” / “No.”

“Okay, then,” Scott said, slowly backing up. 

“I’m training, Logan,” you argued, standing your ground. 

“Like hell you are,” he grumbled. 

The two of you stared each other down, trying to see which one of you would break first, though you both knew the answer. With a scoff and a stop of your foot, you grabbed your training bag and threw it at Logan.

“Since I’m so weak, carry that back to my locker,” you huffed, marching off.

Logan sighed, shoulders slumping. He didn’t want to be the bad guy in your life; he was just worried. He also simply cared deeply for you in a way he hadn’t cared for anyone in far too long. He hated seeing you in pain and would do anything to prevent the pain you were forced into constantly. Logan had even talked to Hank about somehow using his healing mutation to help you. Hank said it was impossible. So Logan was forced to keep a careful eye on you, no matter if that meant you were often mad at him. 

~~~

You did your best to avoid Logan for the next few days. But no matter how hard you tried, Logan was there, stopping you from training, or carrying heavy items, or using your mutation. The anger was festering inside of you, and it all came to a boiling point when you were called into a mission briefing. Everyone was already in the briefing room when you slipped in. You hung back by the door, trying to prevent Logan from seeing you just yet.

“The base that you will be infiltrating is in an interesting location,” Charles explained. The table everyone was surrounding changed to show the base. “It is several hundred feet down in the Atlantic Ocean, off the coast of Long Island. Due to their security system, there is only one way to reach it.” Charles’ eyes fell on you, causing the rest of the team to turn and look.

“No,” Logan immediately said. “No fucking way.”

“Logan, Y/N has been training for this. She has known about this mission for weeks now and is prepared.”

“Don’t care. She’s not a part of this. Find a different way.”

“Do I get any say in this?” You piped up.

“No,” Logan quickly responded, still focusing on Charles. “She’s not going. It’s too dangerous.”

You were growing angrier and angrier, forcing yourself to clench your fists as you felt the water pipes in the wall begin to tremble. Jean noticed and came over to your side, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Why don’t we take a break and reconvene later?” Ororo suggested.

“Later or not, Y/N is not going,” Logan argued.

“It’s not your choice!” You yelled. “It’s mine! I can do what needs to be done.”

“No, you can’t! You are too weak.”

A few gasps were heard throughout the room.

“Weak?” You repeated, both hurt and angered. “That’s what you think of me?” Suddenly, the pipes burst in the walls.

“Enough!” Charles commanded. “Y/N will be participating in the mission. And you will all be leaving at nightfall.”

You rushed out of the room, trying to hide the tears threatening to fall. You could hear loud footsteps behind you, already knowing who it was. A large hand caught your wrist, forcing you to stop, but you didn’t turn around.

“You can’t go,” Logan’s voice was stern but slightly wavered at the end. 

“You’re not in charge of me, Logan,” you replied, trying not to let him know how you were feeling. “I am going on this mission, no matter if you think I’m weak or not.” You tried to pull your wrist out of his grip, but his grip only tightened. “Let me go, Logan.”

“Not until you drop out of the mission.”

You finally looked at him, anger replacing hurt. “Let. Me. Go.”

“Y/N—“

With a flick of your free hand, the pipes in the hallway walls broke. The water shot out of the walls and pummeled Logan, throwing him back and away from you. You were breathing heavily as you stopped the water. Not wanting Logan to see how hard that was for you, you quickly left.

~~~

The jet ride was completely silent. You grabbed the pilot seat next to Scott so that you didn’t have to look at Logan. You could feel Logan’s eyes staring daggers into you.

“We’re here,” Scott announced, having the jet hover over where the base was located. He looked over at you. “You ready?”

“Yes,” you responded, determined.

“Great.” Scott stood. “Everyone get tethered up, then Y/N will clear a channel once everyone is ready.”

“I’m not going down,” Logan said. “I’m staying with Y/N.”

“We need you down there, Logan,” Jean said. “We’ll all be connected through the comms.”

“I can handle myself,” you added. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

You could see Logan’s jaw clench tighter. He let out a grunt before focusing on getting tethered up. Once you were sure they were all ready, you opened the bottom of the jet up. You took a deep breath before stretching your arms towards the ocean water and creating an open circular channel.

“Let’s go!” Scott said, jumping down first. Jean and Ororo quickly followed, with Logan lingering behind, watching you.

“Go, Logan!” You shouted. 

He watched you for a few more seconds before jumping down with the rest. You ground your teeth together as you began to feel the strain of using your mutation like this.

“Alright, Y/N,” Scott said over the comms. “We’re in. We’ll let you know when we need the channel opened.”

“Got it,” you responded.

As you let the water go, you stumbled back, falling to the ground. You could feel the achiness start to set into your joints. Maybe Logan was right. Maybe you were weak. The jet suddenly shook as it was hit. You fumbled over to the pilot’s seat, trying to steer the jet away.

“Guys!” You shouted into the comms. “We have a situation up here. I’m being fired on!”

“What?!” A chorus of voices yelled over the comms.

“It looks like they got a few of their own jets in the sky.” The jet rocked as it got hit again. “Shit!”

“Y/N?!” Logan’s worried voice flooded through the speakers. 

“I’m fine. I’m fine.” You quickly punched a few buttons. “I’ve gone into stealth mode. Hopefully, that holds them for a little bit, but that means you have to free those mutants fast.”

It was another ten minutes before Scott gave you the signal to reopen the channel. You reopened the bottom doors and focused all your energy on opening the channel. Unfortunately, that also meant that the opposing side could find the jet. The jet shook yet again with another hit.

“Hurry!” You urged. “We’re open for hits!”

Scott and Jean came up the tethered lines first, each with a mutant with them. Ororo was next, two mutants with her, and then Logan with the last one. He could immediately sense that you were hurting more than the strain on your face was giving away. Untethering himself, Logan headed for you, but the jet shook once again before he could get to you. You released the hold you had on the water as you flew up and rammed into the ceiling. You let out a cry of pain. Logan moved fast, sliding as he barely caught you before you hit the floor.

“I’ve got you, I've got you,” he whispered, holding you tightly against him.

“Hang on!” Scott shouted. “We’re going to get out of here!”

Everything hurt inside. You couldn’t even hold onto Logan, just laying against him limply as you cried. Logan did his best to hold you steady as Scott flew the jet every which way to avoid getting completely shot down. Jean ended up using her powers to keep Logan and you still as everyone’s hearts were breaking at the cries and whimpers of pain coming out of you.

It took far too long for Logan’s liking for Scott to lose the other jets and return to the mansion. As gently as Logan could manage, he carried you out of the jet and to your room. He laid you down before moving around the room to grab a heating pad, medication, and a change of clothes for you.

“You were right,” you whispered. If Logan didn’t have enhanced hearing, he would have missed it.

“About what?” He responded, bringing all the items over to you.

“I’m weak…”

“No, I— I didn’t mean it that way, sweetheart.”

“Yes, you did… and yes, I am… I shouldn’t even be on the team. I can’t even handle one mission.”

Logan sighed, trying to get his thoughts together before he spoke. You took it as a sign that he let you win. With a whine, you sat up.

“You can go,” you told him. “I can take care of myself.”

“No,” he responded gruffly.

“Logan,” you sighed. “I’ve taken care of myself before… flare-ups can’t stop me. I’ve got to keep living.”

“There. Right there. That’s why you’re the strongest person I have ever met.”

“But you said—“

“I know what I said, and I… I’m sorry. You are not weak. I just… I, God, I’m terrible at this.” His hand raked through his hair. “I—Sweetheart, I care so much about you. I am constantly worried about you, but it’s out of…”

“Out of what, Lo?”

He gave you a knowing look. “I think you know what.”

“I think you need to say it so I don’t go assuming things.”

“I… I love you, sweetheart. And I just hate to see you in pain. I wish that I could take it from you, and trust me, I asked Hank about it, and I—”

You winced as you placed your hand on top of Logan’s mouth to stop his rambling. “I love you, too. And I know that I haven’t said it enough, but thank you for taking care of me.”

His hand carefully wrapped around your wrist as he kissed your hand and moved it down to your lap. “Always.” He looked at you, wanting to kiss you, but he could sense the pain you were in. “What do you need?”

You looked away. “I… I can’t change.”

“Alright.”

“I need some heat.”

“I grabbed your heating pad.” He held it up.

“Could you hold me?”

“Are you sure? I’m a lot heavier than you and I—“

“And your body is my personal heating pad. Please, Logan.”

“How do you want me?”

You winced as you moved to lie down. Logan’s hand hovered over your body, not knowing exactly what to do to help. You moved onto your side, back facing Logan. He got the hint and carefully maneuvered around you so that he was the big spoon and you were the little spoon.

“Like this?” He muttered nervously.

“It’s perfect,” you replied.

“You sure. I can—“

“Logan. Just hold me.”

“Okay.” He leaned in and kissed the back of your neck before resting his head there. “I’ll hold you as long as you need, sweetheart.”

[mr-ys-phantasma]

🌙 Moon Phases 🌙

Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1652

Chapter 38:

"Time to finish The Road. We are one trial closer to the big score!" She exclaimed and started to lead, making you all follow her down the path.

"Earth magic with no Green Witch." Jen reminded Agatha, since Rio had gone to do her duty and left them behind.

"We're back to square one." Billy agreed.

Agatha rolled her eyes. "Oh, there's plenty of overlap between Earth and Potions, right, Jenny Kale?"

Jen bit back a sarcastic remark. "Some."

"Please. Your last name is a vegetable. Worst kind," Agatha said, reverting back to mean unnecessary comments. "Plus, we have Sugar over here. One extra set of hands. Oh, and don't look at her like that; she is more capable than you think, " she continued, focusing on you.

She even went as far as to slow down so you could catch up with her; only to pinch your cheeks in a playful manner.

At that moment, though, you clearly did not share her humour or her fake optimistic side. You grabbed her wrist and gently lowered her hand away from your cheeks.

"Ags," you called out her name, in a tone she knew too well.

You were catching up to her facade, and her fake smile disappeared. She did not like it when you were using that tone, expecting she would confess what was on her mind.

Sometimes Agatha did that, but right now, those things were the last thing she wanted to think of. And so, she continued on; not truly caring what kind of image she was giving to the others.

She knew in the end, you would never hate her or walk away; and Billy needed her to find his brother. So she had the two of you secured.

Now, if Jen chose to be upset and offended, she didn't care. She was just... Jen.

"I have to be honest," Agatha continued agter giving the small group a dramatic pause. "I'm surprised you survived this long, Kale. My money was on Lilia."

You chose to put your foot down at that moment. No matter how annoying Jen could and had proven to be, that did not mean she deserved to be attacked that way.

"Agatha, enough. This is not the time for comparisons or disrespecting the dead," you commented, making her stop in her tracks. "Show some respect cause we are only here because of Lilia's sacrifice."

Especially when she was still mourning, perhaps being the only member to truly care for Lilia's loss. Cause let's ve honest, Billy never truly came close or cared that much.

And you... well, you hadn't truly bonded with anyone cause you didn't want to. You knew they might die. They might turn on you on the road, and you were strictly there for Agatha.

One last chance to stand by her side for good this time and not let her slip through your fingers, unknown when and if she would return back to you.

But you had failed in that initial plan. All because you had started to warm up to a lost boy with hidden potential under the name of Billy Maximoff.

Agatha fought to keep that fake bitchy smirk and not react to your words. She expected you to comment once in a while, since you akwys did, but to go against her so strongly? So often?

She was not sure she liked that. Perhaps she had been away from you too much, and you had forgotten... forgotten the rules she had laid for you. Rules you had obediently followed.

She would have to change that when this would be all over. You had been astray from the path for too long, but she was not going to let you continue that way, especially with Rio so keen on entering your life and being part of it.

Agatha cleared her throat, controlling her thoughts. "Come on, Sugar. Cheer up!" She said, putting on a mask once again. "What fresh horrors await us! It's's the big finish, so close to us!"

She started to walk again, trying to keep her moon by being dramatic; talking of fireworks and spectacles and.... she tripped..

However, it was what she tripped on that surprised all of you.

"Our shoes." You exclaimed and moved to investigate, ensure your eyes were nor deceiving you.

Much to your surprise and even slight horror, those were your shoes. They were nicely tucked and placed where you all had removed and left them. When you had first started the Road.

It felt as if it had been too long since that took place, while it may as well been a few hours; perhaps a day.

Only then did you truly realize how time disoriented you all had been. How you had almost forgotten where you were and when you started, feeling so much longer than it truly was.

"We're back where we started." Jen realized but did not dare to approach the shoes any closer, as she was reminded of the witches that died before; whose shoes were the only reminders of them left.

"The Witches' Road is a circle. And this is the finish line?" Billy questioned, looking at you and Agatha; since you were the last and only ones to survive the road.

Or so you claimed.

Agatha had the strongest reaction to everything, clearly upset by the sight. She had been through so much in the past few trials, especially that damn spirit trial.

She had been humiliated, trickef, trialled, tired, and by the gods had her patience be tested.

"That's it?" She exclaimed, anger bubbling within her, mimicking a volacon about to erupt or a tsunami ready to sink a whole country with one hit. "That's it?!" She yelled, glaring at the sky at whatever entity our there might be watching and most likely mocking them.

"Well, maybe we passed the trial." Billy suggested, trying to be the optimist in the group and calm down Agatha from pulling her own hair or finding a way to set the whole place in flames.

Agatha turned her head to look at him, her face hard. "Then how exactly do we get off?" She asked rhetorically.

Of course, Billy didn't realize it and tried to anseer it. "Well, maybe we..." she didn't let him finish.

"If you don't know, then keep quiet."

Billy bit his tongue, feeling his own anger flaring up as once again he was treated with so much disrespect; it was ending up to become both annoying and tiring.

"We keep going." Agatha suddenly suggested.

"What?" Jen and Billy exclaimed while you stared at your lover, trying to make sure you heard her correctly.

"We go again. It'll work the second time." She explained, trying to sound certain, but everyone could see that she was not convincing enough.

"Ags, this won't work, and you know it," you said, trying to be the one and get her both to listen and calm down.

Your lover simply pushed her hair off her shoulder. "Of course it will. We have nothing to lose"

Before you could argue or reason with her, Jen interfered; though this time she had a very valid point.

"There is absolutely zero chance, I'm m going to endure that experience again." She said snd you silently agreed with her.

The trials have have exhausting and if by some twisted turn of fate you had to endure them again... you were not ready.

No matter the answers that might be the same, you could also not pass through that again; let alone so soon.

As the three witches argued, with Jen and Agatha being the loudest and you caught in the middle; Billy chose to act.

He was also tired from everything, and he wanted to just be done. He wanted to find Tommy, have his answers, and return to his civilian life. It might not be truly his, but it was a stable thing in his life that didn't consist of backstabbing, people dying, and lies being told so often they mixed with the truth.

"We took them off out of respect for The Road." He started as he stood in front of his shoes and grabbed one . "Screw The Road." And with those words, he put his shoe on.

Yet in that exact moment... he disappeared from sight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sudden disappearance made the three of you gasp in surprise, none expecting it to happen. Worse was the fact that you didn't know where he went and if what he did was the right choice or the one leading him to his doom.

"So, what do we do know?" Jen dared to ask and look at you and Agatha.

You exchanged a look with your lover, first time sering this. You were unsure of what you should truly do, let alone what you might experience next.

Yet the more you remained in that annoying creepy lurking forest. The more you were reminded of your limited choices and the fact that you had come back to the beginning... the more certain you were of what to do.

Worse case scenario, you were kicked off the Road or killed. Both of those theories felt so much better within your hearts, than spending a minute longer on this hellish road.

"Time to wear our shoes," Agatha said and went first, disappearing as soon as she put her shoes on.

This left you and Jen to exchange a look, your fellow witch clearly not thrilled with the idea and not fully confident that this was the right choice.

She did not want to take any more risks. It was too stressful.

"Not much of a choice," you said, doing a not so good effort in sounding reassuring.

She watched you head for your shoes and put them on, the sight of her watching you the last thing you saw before your vision turned black.

[hyperdramas]

light | jeon wonwoo

pairing: jeon wonwoo x reader

warnings: non-idol au, friends to lovers, fluff, kissing, mentions of the beach, hugging (physical touch in general), wonwoo & reader are on a date (as platonic friends), (they're not platonic anymore), so fluffy dear god

now playing: light, wave to earth & apocalypse, cigarettes after sex

The salt air tickled your nose as your feet hit the sand, and Wonwoo walked quietly beside you, hands in his shorts pockets as he looked ahead of him. He smelled like faint cologne and sea salt, and his frames glinted in the shimmering moonlight as he looked over to you.

"Did you have fun?" His voice was deeper than the ocean stretching miles away in front of you, and you looked to him, nodding as you looked down at your sandles. "I did, Wonwoo. Thank you for all of it." 

Jeon Wonwoo and you were on a date—an official, planned out date, with a set time and place and everything. You two had been friends for a long time, and it was obvious that there was something between you, as stated by your mutual friends.

As friends, you had put off the date for a while, still hanging out as just the two of you did normally, even if people called it a date. You had finally had enough of your friends and their whining, and Wonwoo and you decided to go on an official date to appease the hungry crowd (that being your nosy friends).

Even though you and Wonwoo did what the two of you always do—walk around town, stop in shops to browse and buy, and finish your night at the beach while sharing some street food—it felt different, for some reason. The air between you two wasn't suffocating, but wasn't as light as it usually was. There was a weight in the air, one you could sense as you breathed silently beside your friend.

"The water feels so good." You say aloud, toes getting a splash of sea water as you slip them off. Wonwoo takes them in his hands, smiling at you as you wade out a little bit, letting water engulf your legs as drops of it stain your skirt.

The night sky sparkles with stars you never noticed during your nights with Wonwoo here, and the streetlights in the distance lit the sand farther away from you with a soft, inviting glow.

"Wonwoo, come on!" You wave out to him, and Wonwoo laughs nervously, eyes crinkling as he cracks a smile. "I don't want to get wet, [Y/N]. I just took a shower before we left my apartment." He frowns slightly, but you know he isn't actually sad.

"Wonwoo, please! It'll be fun! Plus, it feels good," You bargain, and Wonwoo sighs, laughing to himself as he places your sandals farther away from the rising tides. He slips off his shoes too, sighing as he places his glasses in his shoe before making his way into the ocean. He moves stiffly towards you, obviously not very elated to be in the water, but smiling because you look so happy in this moment.

You reach out to him, hands sliding up his hands and forearm as you pull him to you. He laughs at the impact, and you do too, stumbling at the tide's waves as your hair brushes the water a few inches below you.

Wonwoo's sharp gaze watches your expression change as the moonlight dances across the water, lighting up your back and appearing as if you have an aura around you. You look like an angel to Wonwoo, innocent and pure with nothing but love and goodness in you. It makes him nervous, how beautiful you look.

"Wonwoo?" You question, noticing how quiet he's gotten. He's still looking at you, dark eyes piercing yours as he smiles just slightly. "I'm sorry. You just look—" Your head tilts just slightly, hair falling across your shoulder as you look up at him with confused eyes. "I look?"

"You just look so pretty." Wonwoo says softly, and you blush, not hearing something like that come from Wonwoo's lips before. Your stomach filled with this warm, fuzzy feeling, and your eyes widened, taking all of Wonwoo in as he fell silent again.

The only sound that was between you was the constant wash of the waves against the shore and the crickets and other night insects and animals that may have been running around.

The air was warm and salty around you, quickly enveloping you in a warmness you hadn't felt before. Your body was warm with Wonwoo's touch, and you couldn't help but close your eyes, too in the moment to keep them open.

Wonwoo stared as you did so, lips pink and pretty as he did a double take. The feeling in his chest was getting hard to ignore, and he couldn't seem to think rationally as he stared at your droplet-dusted cheeks and damp hair. Before he knew it, his hands were wrapping around your waist and pulling you close to him, hugging you tight as he let out a sigh against you.

His nose was buried in your hair, and the sweet shampoo and salt mixed together to create this smell that comforted him and calmed him down, allowing him to think of what he wanted to do to you.

He wanted to kiss you, hold you against him as he told you he had loved you since you two had met in the coffee shop two years ago. Wonwoo wanted to let you know how special you were to him, and how important you were to who he was as a person.

Wonwoo was ready to love you, and he was hoping you would be ready to love him back.

"Wonwoo." You said gently, opening your eyes as you pulled back from him slightly. You were thinking the same things Wonwoo was at this moment in time, and it came easy to you as you leaned in, following Wonwoo's lead as his lips finally touched yours.

The kiss sent sparks through your body like fireworks, and you allowed yourself to bring your hands to Wonwoo's tousled hair as he sighed against you.

Time slowed, as if it stopped to watch this turning point in you and Wonwoo's relationship, cheering you on for making the move. Your whole body felt like it was made of sparkles, warm bursts of light that ran through your blood.

When you finally came to and pulled away, you and Wonwoo let out a breath in sync, both blushed and ragged from the kiss. Wonwoo's sharp eyes looked at you as he pressed his nose to you, and you took him in, hands in his as he opened his lips to speak.

"I love you. I've loved you ever since—" 

"Ever since we met at the coffee shop." You finish, and Wonwoo pauses, surpised as you laugh lightly. "I've loved you since then." You say, and Wonwoo smiles, hand cupping your cheek as he nods.

"Me too." He says simply, and the two of you go quiet again, lost for words as you stand in each other's embrace once again.

"I'm ready to love you, if you're ready to love me." You whisper, and Wonwoo pauses, breath stuck in his chest as he watches you. It's as if you took all the words from his mouth without trying. He couldn't speak, too overwhelmed by you to even function properly. It took everything in him to not kiss you again. 

He just nodded, a smile on his face as he slowly leaned in. His lips brushed against yours ever so lightly as he replied with a whisper just a few seconds later.

"I've been ready." 

feedback & reblogs are appreciated! i read every comment or repost you leave :)

[janus-cadet]

Hey!! It's been quite a while since I posted anything, here. To be honest, work is very time-consuming. But! Here I am, with a tarot card- last one being Maestro's, that I've done at least three months ago!

This time, place for some Timerogue, as the Six of Cups.

Explanation, as always, under the cut!

The Six of Cups -Upright- is a card encouraging you to think about the past, especially thee good memories. Think about the fun, the happiness, instead of the sorrow and the grief; it will allow you to nurture the relationship you still have in your life, or push you to create new ones, on new level of harmony. Connect with your inner child, and experience the fun that come with it: you need to allow yourself to be playful, spontaneous nd creative. You see and handsome stranger at a Bridgerton party? Perfect! Go talk, go flirt, get briefly abducted, have fun! You are now more open, more willing to give the other the benefice of the doubt (Bounty Hunter, yes, but he's hot, so... and yes, alien shapeshifter, but also hot, so...). It's time for you to turn over a page, and start afresh from a more positive place. (Get therapied, 14th!).

Upright, it's a card for healing, a card looking forward with joy: fitting for 15th's promise and attitude.

Reversed, hovewer, could apply to both of them- including the Doctor, who's not as alright as he would like to let us believe. When the Reversed Six of Cups appears in a reading, you might be clinging to the past and losing touch with the present. Leaving on an empty ship meant for two, for more, even, all by yourself; keeping all the memories of what used to be, and closing yourself up around it. It's alright to indulge in a little reminiscing about the past, as long as you understand that it's over. You need to make peace with the past, so you can focus on the now: stop brooding all by yourself, and try to connect with this very charming stranger, maybe. Allow yourself to enjoy life again, to have fun, to breath. It's okay. They would not hate you, for it.

You may also have lost touch with your inner child, closed yourself up to anything and everyone, because you're taking too much of a responsability, or leaving with an heaviness you do not share. You want to keep your emotions quiet, shielded away from others, in fear of their judgement. You don't need to: your friends are here for you.

If you have some.

Sorry, Rogue.

And that's it for today! I'm starting to have a lot of Doctor Who related card, uh- definitely more to come.

I hope you enjoyed it, and see you next time, hopefully! Here are some of the other cards I did- minus the three Masters, because of the post picture-limit.

[emilsendo]

Can you please make a muzan oneshot, smut with aftercare and muzan being alittle protective of m! Reader...

Thank you! <3

With pleasure I'll make this request! Take care💪🏼✨️👀

Also, I apologize for any errors in the text. I hope you will enjoy it.

_______________________________________

It was a day like any other, everyone looked the same. You, as a rank 0 higher moon demon, AND as the husband of the demon king, had a wide reputation among demons and humans alike. However, Muzan Kibutsuji didn't treat your strength like the others, he loved you too much to care if you were powerful enough. For him, you were and are his property, which he must protect against possible threats. Mainly rivals created by your handsome appearance. But who would dare to endanger the MUZAN himself? Probably just a real suicide.

Y/N was currently walking through the forest after mercilessly killing a man from the village he was passing by. As an Upper Moon demon, he must eat quite regularly in order for his strength to remain the same or even greater. Even if he sometimes has some signs of humanity in his heart, he still doesn't care much about this feeling. He had long since rid himself of the feeling of guilt in his soul, all in order to be able to kill more effectively and faster. He is about 600 years old, has adapted to living in the body of a creature and killing those who resist his actions. Y/N remembers almost nothing from his past, except for the feeling of weakness... his heart only remembers how he felt then, not what he was like and what his life was like, did he have a family? Did he have a wife and children? Was he someone important? Nothing. Emptiness.

While listening to the sounds of nature, he heard another sound, but of feet pattering behind him and then next to him. It was as if this person was fast enough to somehow teleport. Y/N looked at them, his c/e eyes meeting rainbow ones. It was none other than Doma, who no one likes because... he's the least bit annoying.

— Hello, Lord Y/N~! How is our handsome boy? — he asked with a practiced and false tone of joy, something that was probably the reason why no one liked him. Y/N remained unfazed by his presence, but he felt a certain irritation. Doma moved in on him far too many times, as if he wanted more than a punch to the jaw.

— How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that? Don't you have anything else to do? — he replied with a great show of dislike towards the demon next to him, looking at him out of the corner of his eye with his deadly gaze, which usually made every demon and human bend more than one knee. But not Doma, this type has too much of a disregard for other people's needs.

— Aww~ Ice cold as always, huh? I'm just trying to be nice to Muzan's lover~.... — he said. And his voice and facial expression were like a child who didn't get what he wanted.

—You'll be nice when you get out of here.— Y/N finally looking at the shorter man with his full perspective. However, instead of an answer, he received a kiss, which shocked him. He automatically pushed him away and punched him in the jaw hard enough to tear off half his face, staining his hands with blood. Doma looked at him with a strange look, maybe if his face was intact it would look better... The man smiled slyly as if he was proud of what he had done, lightly touching his newly regenerated jaw.

Muzan won't be happy with the fact that his "property" has been touched and Y/N knows it, which is why he felt a slight twinge in his stomach from the stress. Because he'll get hurt too.

—Who the fuck are you? — a deep and loud voice asked, while the sounds of limbs and bones being torn to shreds echoed throughout the room. The muzzled hand was tearing apart Doma's body, and Doma was not reacting much to any of these harms. The brunette's blood-red eyes scanned the demon in front of him, who was kneeling.

—How dare you disregard my order? How dare you TOUCH something that belongs to me? — he grabbed the blonde by the forehead, his claw drilling a hole in the skull. He then caused his cells to slowly melt Doma's body.

Upper Rank 2 began bleeding from the inside, choking on a red substance. Pulsating, almost purple veins appeared on his skin.

—I should kill you....But you are a useful demon because of your loyalty. However, one more move like that... and I will personally expose you to the sun.— Muzan threatened, letting his brother go free.

—Muzan....I'm sorry, honey. I had no way to react to protect myself from Doma's kiss... I didn't expect it. - you whispered, your voice sounding completely different because of the way the veins that carry Muzan's blood tightened around your weave. You were in a kneeling position in front of your husband, who was sitting on a chair, his chin resting on his hand and his eyes down on your apologetic form. He had you like this for a while now, letting his anger out on you.

—.....— Muzan closed his eyes and then stopped controlling his cells, letting you breathe. His gaze moved to the side, ignoring you. You could see from a mile away that he was still pissed at you.

The moment you gained access to breathing again, you gasped. Coughing heavily from the dryness in my throat and the lack of oxygen. But you didn't have time to feel sorry for yourself, you had to console Muzan somehow, before he will kill useful demons.

You stepped closer to Muzan, resting your head on his knee.

—I love you, you know?— you said, knowing that this sentence would calm Muzan down instantly. The man finally looked at you, his gaze still as cold as ice. But his eyes became less wild, clear evidence that he had calmed down. His hand gently grabbed your chin, stroking it lightly with his thumb.

— I know. I love you too, you're like a toxin that makes me sick. But it is also very....addictive.— Muzan pulls your body up by your hand, he also stood up. Making you both switch positions, where this time you are sitting and he is kneeling.

— However, I want you to make me realize this by fucking me.— he said with a smirk. His tone was seductive and his eyes were filled with lust and horniness. Your member twitch at that sight, you couldn't resist your husband's "request", when it was clearly what you desired too deep down. Before you answered, Muzan already was working your pants off, he rip them off to be honest. Exposing your big and hard length that he loves so much, his tongue licks his lower lip, getting ready to the delicious taste he will have on it by a few seconds.

He opens his lips wide, already trying to deepthroat your dick with his tight canal. Making you hiss from pleasure and tighten your grip on the chair, claws digging into the wooden furniture. Your King sucks every good spots, pulling away for a while to spit on your cock to make it more wet. His tongue lick your tip, kissing it passionately as if making out with it, before going back down to your shaft. Licking up and down, massaging your balls and squeezing them from time to time. Making your head be on cloud 9 and resisting the urge to fuck your husband's throat. He wets your cock so good that it made such a sloppy sounds that made Muzan's mind go crazy, he only wants you to rile him like the last whore and then shower with affection. That's why he grabbed roughly your wrist and put it on his head, signaling you to control his movements.

You didn't waste any time in making him choke and gag all over your large cock, you could feel his nails pressing into your skin on thighs from pleasure and the feeling of your rough treatment. The feeling of a colossal hand gripping his hair, that clearly belong to you made his own dick almost cream his pants from excitement. And when you finally came in his mouth, he swallowed it eagerly like a treasure. His lips all red and swollen from sucking and having his mouth filled with something so thick.

— Take my clothes off. Now.— he damanded, but his voice sounds so needy and almost desperate. While he tried to mask it by cleaning your dick off from the rest of cum. You pull him on your lap with one move of your arm, making him gasp a bit. Before you took off his whole clothes, your gaze fixed on his expression that showed a pure lust. Muzan's mouth instinctively wrap itself around your fingers, wetting them as if he knows by the look on your face what you want him to do.

— Good slut.— you said with a smirk and satisfaction, even if your husband doesn't seem to like this nickname. (He feels butterflies in his stomach but his mind refuse to accept it)

— I am NOT a slut.— he said with serious tone, sounding a bit stern.

— Then I'll have to prove you wrong. Cause sluts like you can take cocks like mine without preparation.— You said, making Muzan look at you in confusion and he understood in a second what you meant.

— Oi, no!— he tried to protest in panic, his eyes widen, a loud scream from pleasure and pain left his mouth as you slam your cock inside him with one, smooth move. You groan at the tightness around your cock, it almost felt like it's sucking you inside.

— Don't cry, honey... I know you like it. Good slut-husbands like you are experts in satisfing your beloved.— you whisper in his ear, wiping his tears off from his cheeks. You looked at his expression that was a mix of pleasure and pain, his teeth clenched from the feeling of you deep inside him, touching his prostate with the tip of your cock.

Muzan was quiet for a few seconds, before he chuckles from esctasy and his red eyes fixed on you. He tighten his gummy like walls around your member to tease you and motivate you into fucking him.

— Of course.....I'll take care of your crotch like a good husband slut.— Muzan's lips kissed your face, starting with you forehead and ending at your lips. He really do love you for agreeing for you to call him this way....

Next thing he knows was you making him bounce like a desperate bunny on your dick, making sloppy sounds from going in and out of his entrance. The sounds of his loud moaning, mewling and your grunts and groans spread all over his office. Muzan's hair were messy and wet from sweat. His eyes unfocused. His sharp nails digging intl your shoulders. His legs shaking. His walls clenched and unclenched from pleasure and overstimulation. You hit his prostate over and over again, making him wanna cry to heavens.... or to hell.

Suddenly, you stand up with him in your arms, surprising him a bit as he got placed on his desk with legs spread. His back met the surface of the wooden furniture, he pants like a dog as he watched you put his legs on your shoulders, making your balls made a contact with his ass. He whimpers from that feeling.

— Fuck me.....Fuck your slutty husband.....fill me with your hiers and have the satisfaction of owning the King of demons~— Muzan said with a smirk, chest going up and down from breathing hard. That words went straight to your cock, twitching inside your lover. Your gaze like a predator, as you move oncr again. Hips snapping back and forth hard and deep, as if you were seriously trying to make him pregnant or break. He grip onto the edges of his desk, almost destroying it with his demonic strength. The pre-cum made it easier for you to go in and out of his warm and wet ass. His entrance sucked you greedy in, as if not planning for you to leave it.

— Such a good slut for me, huh? Your tiny hole seems not to want me to let go.— you said between moans, rubbing his pale waist in your hands.

— Uh-huh.....Haah...haaah...haaah...Not let go....haah...HAAH....HAAHH...— he said dumbly, without thinking twice before saying it. Feeling stupid from esctasy.

Hours passed, it was already morning and you two only just done having sex. You slip your cock out of his hole, making the cum drip from Muzan's ass. You looked at your dear husband that you spent your whole life as a demon. Admiring his appearance that looked so messy. It's kinda sad that the marks you left regenerate faster than you blink...But you still felt satisfaction, because you owned THE Muzan Kibutsuji.

— Very well, Y/N......you kept me satisfy.— Kibutsuji said, his voice breathless but his gaze intense. He pulls you towards him with strong grip, making you lay on top of his body. Rubbing your back and head with his hand.

— But you have to make me a bath with rose petals.— he demand, looking down at you with a smile. You snuggle against his chest, squeezing his nipples between your fingers. Making him glare at you.

— Control yourself. I want bath.—

— Hehehe....— you laughed nervously.