#Every single thing they do looks like it hurts so much

[idkshithead]

⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ 𓊆ྀི gi-hun headcanons! 𓊇ྀི

·˚ ༘ — pairing: seong gi-hun x fem!reader

—❕warnings: nsfw content, mentions of trauma and insomnia (slightly), gi-hun being a cutie pookie patootie that i actually giggled and kicked my feet while writing this. i love him sm

｡𖦹°‧ sfw!:

season 1

— 𐙚 your relationship with gi-hun is a “pretty gf, obsessed bf” typa thing. he’d do anything for you. literally. you have cramps during your period? no problem cause he’s already out buying your favorite sweets. you don’t feel good about yourself all of a sudden? no worries cause he’ll sit you on his lap reminding you of how beautiful you are, of how much he loves you (and of how much you turn him on).

— 𐙚 s1 gi-hun is def the jealous type. mostly because he knows he’s not the perfect man to date due to all his family and financial problems so every time he sees a guy approaching you, maybe even good-looking, he’ll definitely pout: either he comes closer and grasps your waist tightly to show him you’re his, or he’ll just be silent and pretend to mind his business even tho he’s hurting inside cause he’s afraid you’ll replace him.

— 𐙚 later you’ll eventually tease him and tell him about how cute it is when he acts all jealous even when he tries to deny it. loves when you ruffle his hair/pinch his cheeks/cover his face in kisses to reassure him.

— 𐙚 s1 gi-hun is the type of man who really wants to spoil you with expensive gifts to make you happy but knows he can’t because of his lack of money. tries to make it up to you with simple dates (pic-nics, late night walks/drives, cuddle sessions etc.) even tho you tell him you don’t care about gifts and that you like simple actions. he’ll keep that in mind and will eventually start giving you picked-up flowers or short handwritten letters.

— 𐙚 s1 gi-hun’s life felt so much brighter when he met you and he couldn’t tell why. your presence just made him feel warm in his chest and he would remind you every. single. day.

— 𐙚 would definitely hug you from behind while you cook and start kissing your neck. later he would pick you up and sit you on the kitchen counter and start making out/cuddle with you while he whispers how much you mean to him etc. will make you promise to never leave him.

— 𐙚 one thing you ABSOLUTELY love about gi-hun, is his hair. it’s so fluffy and soft that you wanna touch it every minute of the day. in rough days he loves to lay on your thighs while you caress his scalp, play with strands of his hair to relax him until he’ll eventually fall asleep.

— 𐙚 s1 gi-hun would let you meet his daughter almost immediately cause when he met you first, he knew you would be the one. when he sees you get along really well with her he would smile like an idiot cause he loves to see the 2 most important girls of his life talking/having fun together.

season 2

— 𐙚 hate to say this, but s2 gi-hun is a whole different person. he’s not the smiley guy he once was and stay sure that he WILL be over protective, over possessive, over everything. can you blame him tho? he got traumatized so no, you can’t. he’s just afraid you’ll get in trouble as well.

— 𐙚 s2 gi-hun will definitely check on you every. damn. minute. he can’t find you? he’ll spam call you till you answer. you don’t answer his calls cause you’re out and can’t hear your phone? h’ell put on the gps in his car and come find you.

— 𐙚 at first you argued with him many times cause it became overwhelming. you basically couldn’t even go out with your old friend cause he’ll call you every 30 minutes and stuff. you didn’t want to get mad at him cause it wasn’t his fault, he just went through a lot and was worried for you.

— 𐙚 when you got mad, tho, you felt guilty not even a second later cause he looked at you with a sad and hurt expression and said: “i’m sorry. i just over worry and can’t stay calm when you’re out alone.”

— 𐙚 you’d tell him you understand but still you’re an independent woman and can defend yourself. (you’re lying cause deep down you like it when he worries a lot about you. but not in an obsessive/unhealthy way.). you will definitely cuddle him after that.

— 𐙚 s2 gi-hun never sleeps at night cause he feels the need to look after you while you sleep. he still feels like he’s in that room, keeping watch of bastards that could attack and kill you. if he manages to fall asleep, he’ll wake up in the middle of the night due to the nightmares. in those nights, you are the one who doesn’t sleep to look after him.

— 𐙚 he still loves to hug you from behind while you do stuff but also loves when you are the one to do so. he’s not as talkative as before so while old gi-hun would whisper loving sentences to you, present gi-hun just wants to feel the moment. he would bury his face into your neck and stay silent as you caress his hair and kiss it while he rubs your back and holds you tight.

— 𐙚 s2 gi-hun likes slow mornings. while in s1 he would go out to gamble/work and you would work too, now he likes to take his time to wake up to cuddle you, kiss you. just wants to enjoy his time with you, especially in weekends.

— 𐙚 s2 gi-hun would still take you out to late night walks/drives to relieve stress from both of you. his old manners of showing you his love are still the same: simple actions/gifts, physical touch etc.

｡𖦹°‧ nsfw!:

season 1:

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 the first time you two made love was quite embarrassing for him cause he hadn’t touched a woman in years after his ex wife(that is something that every gi-hun fan thinks lol😭). he was really scared to hurt you or make you uncomfortable but once you reassure him he will make sure he’ll be the best sex you’ve ever had.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 s1 gi-hun will definitely cum really fast the first times cause he just can’t control himself with you. he doesn’t even make it on purpose but that man is able to cum in his pants by you just grinding on his lap.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 s1 gi-hun is the type of man that really doesn’t care about sex. he’s not a really “horny-guy” cause he thinks sex is not that important in a relationship but since he met you he gets hard often times and can’t control it.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 s1 gi-hun would think he’s not that good in bed but god, the way you moan his name or just moan in pleasure makes his ego reach the stars. he thinks he’s not that big but doesn’t realize that even common size (14/15cm) actually is.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 s1 gi-hun def talks you through it. would tell you how much you turn him on, would tell you how good you feel around him and would tell you how good you are for him. loves to praise you during it.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 i feel like he LOVES blowjobs. they make him feel so damn horny and he doesn’t know why himself. probably is the way your pretty, innocent eyes look at him while your lips are wrapped around his length, pleasuring him.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 gi-hun is clearly noisy. be prepared to hear him moan even if you just move your ass while sitting on his lap.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 forget about degrading names/praises. will def not call you a “whore, slut, pathetic” etc, not even if you ask him. he’s just not that kind of man and it makes him uncomfortable

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 once you’re done, even if he’s dead tired, he won’t get in bed before making sure you’re all cleaned and feeling as comfy as possible. you chuckle almost every time and tell him to just lay with you and that you’ll take a shower later.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 thinks he needs to be the big spoon cause he’s the “man of the relationship” but loves to be the small spoon as well. depends on who needs more cuddles after that. if he’s the big spoon, he’ll lay you on his chest, pull the blanket over your bodies and rub your skin, whisper loving words till you both fall asleep.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 if he’s the small spoon he’ll be the one to lay on your chest and shyly ask you to caress his head/play with his hair cause it relaxes him. you can’t help the cuteness so you just roughly grab his face and kiss him nonstop. you’ll apologize later and both end up chuckling. likes when you rub his bare back with the other hand as well. will fall asleep immediately cause your heartbeat helps him relax.

season 2:

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 s2 gi-hun would prefer blowjobs even more since he can’t sleep and is really tired most of times. he loves when you help him relax with that and loves it even more when you’re the one to initiate first cause he feels shy to just ask you to make him cum. thinks it’s inappropriate.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 s2 gi-hun loves lazy and slow sex (unless he had a really bad day), prefers when you ride him cause it’s hotter to see your breast bouncing and stuff. will grasp your waist/hips gently and guide you through it while he praises you.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 he may not be as noisy as before but will never stop praising you. he realized he loves it even more when you are the one to praise him. sentences like: “fuck, you’re so good, gi-hun” or “you make me feel so good” make him cum immediately.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 will def ask you to do that again cause he LOVES to hear how good he makes you feel and how loved you feel even when your sex is not romantic and slow.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 if you’re not in the mood he’ll immediately pull away and apologize 5 times in a second cause he doesn’t wanna make you feel uncomfortable in any way. you smile and reassure him and then promise him to do it later (if you’re in the mood ofc).

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 will feel guilty cause he feels like he’s forcing you but you remind him that if you didn’t want to, you wouldn’t cause yes you love him with your whole being, but will never do something you feel uncomfortable with. especially if it’s related to intimacy.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 most of the times it will start by you massaging his shoulders cause they’re so tense. then you would start kissing his neck, make out and it will lead to bed.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 will praise you with nicknames like: “such a good girl for me, hun.” or “you’re so tight, sweetheart.” if you call his name he would respond with: “yes m’am?” cause he’s such a gentleman and loves to respect his woman.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 s2 gi-hun also loves missionary cause he needs to look at your pretty face and all the cute and horny expressions you make when he makes you reach the stars. would definitely kiss your neck/jawline/cheeks while he praises you.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 s2 gi-hun enjoys every type of quickies. on the kitchen counter when you cook? definitely. in the shower? always. in the car after a long late night drive? sure, why not. in the dressing room when you go shopping? loves the risk.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 when you do quickies in public he’d cover your mouth with his big hand and loves the sight of it. the way you try to keep quiet, the way you close your eyes to focus on not being noisy, your flustered cheeks. it turns him on even more.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 s2 gi-hun thinks aftercare is the most important thing. probably like it even more than sex itself. he wants to be the big spoon always but when you manage to convince him to be the small one, he would act as if he could accidentally hurt you.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 you would play with his short hair and kiss his head while you tell him how good he made you feel cause he’ll ask you if you liked it. if you would tell him that something made you uncomfortable he probably won’t touch you in “that way” for weeks. to the point you’d ask him if he still loves you cause you think he got tired of you.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 will look at you with an expression that clearly says “are you okay?” and then immediately reassure you and apologize for being a jerk.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 i feel like gi-hun hates porn and wouldn’t watch them not even if he got paid. thinks they’re too unrealistic and stupid. plus, he has you so what’s the point in watching other naked women having sex? not his thing, really hates it.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 doesn’t feel the need to jerk off when you’re not around, he’ll just wait till you come back if he needs it. would do that only if he’s desperate af.

ੈ��‧₊˚ — a/n: soo here are few of my headcanons for this little cutie pie. idk if some of these are similar to others or something but if so, i’m so sorry, i didn’t copy anyone nor i inspired by anyone, i made them in my head based on my hc/scenarios😭 anyway i hope you enjoy reading this🥹

[paperstorm]

The final chapter is up! We had so much fun writing this all season and thank you every single person who commented or kudos'd or just read this fic. Here's a tease from the last chapter. If you're looking for both morning sexy times and the happiest of endings for this little family, we got you covered 😉

Jonah flops against him and Carlos moves in closer on his other side, the two of them bracketing him like protective bookends.

“How’d you sleep?” Carlos asks him.

It might be too complex a question for a three year old, but Jonah grins up at him and brightly answers, “I have a race car bed!”

“You sure do!” Carlos agrees, reaching down and smoothing stray hairs out of Jonah’s eyes.

Jonah looks to TK and asks, “When is Daddy coming home?”

For a moment, the question twists like a GI infection in TK’s gut. He exchanges a sorrowful glance with Carlos, who sadly shrugs a shoulder. They have so much to learn, so many things to figure out on this new adventure together, and how to talk to someone this young is something TK knows he hasn't mastered just yet.

Carefully, he answers, “I don’t know. It might not be for a long time.”

“Oh.”

“But,” TK continues, slouching further down onto the pillows and snuggling in closer, “you’re gonna live here, now, with me and Carlos. And we love you so much. And everything’s gonna be okay.”

“Okay,” Jonah answers, easily accepting his answer, at least for now.

TK breathes a sigh of relief. TK knows it isn’t the end of the conversation. Jonah’s so little, he has to be so confused, and that makes TK’s heart hurt. But it’s a conversation they don’t need to have this morning. He looks at Carlos again over the top of Jonah’s head. Carlos nods at him reassuringly, moving in closer from the other side so they can cuddle Jonah together.

“Can I have breakfast?”

“Of course you can. What do you want to eat?”

“Pancakes!” Jonah decides.

“Pancakes it is,” Carlos replies. “You two hang out for a bit, I’ll get them started.”

“Stay?” TK asks Carlos quietly, circling his wrist with his fingers over Jonah’s body. “For a few more minutes.” 

Carlos pauses and looks between the two boys in his bed. He must be feeling what TK is feeling, the overwhelming emotion that comes with experiencing their first morning together as a family of three, instead of two. Carlos nods quietly and settles back against the headboard. He lets his arm drape over the pillows that have flattened during the night until TK is curled under it and Jonah is snug between them again.

“I’ll get started on breakfast soon, okay? Unless you’re so hungry now that your stomach is turning into a monster.”

Carlos tickles Jonah’s belly and he giggles. “No,” he says confidently, like a monster could never hurt him. 

TK observes quietly, feeling like he’s in a dream. He knows nights of crying and fear are around the corner, where Jonah wakes up confused and scared and missing his dad. TK knows that it’s not all smooth sailing from here, but right now he looks at Jonah’s resilience in wonder, and Carlos’ natural ability to bond with him, and he feels like the luckiest man in the world.

“Good,” Carlos tells him. “Because you know what the best part about today is?” 

Jonah looks up at Carlos in wonder, four big brown eyes staring at each other. TK is in so much trouble with these two. He could let them get away with anything. 

“What?” Jonah asks, hanging onto every word Carlos says like Carlos is already his hero. TK knows the feeling. 

“We don’t have any plans. Which means we get to sleep in and then do whatever you want.”

Jonah’s eyes grow even wider and his head whips over to TK as if to confirm Carlos’ words. “Whatever I want?” 

TK smiles, squeezing Jonah’s arm. “Whatever you want,” TK confirms. Maybe he and Carlos can be the fun brothers for one more day and spoil this boy beyond belief. He deserves it. Tomorrow, they’ll begin to figure out how to be parents that say no and set limitations, but today, Jonah can get whatever he wants. 

“I want ice cream!” Jonah cries out, and both TK and Carlos laugh. 

Carlos meets his gaze over the top of Jonah’s head, and TK nods. 

“We can do ice cream,” Carlos agrees. “But maybe this afternoon, huh? It’s supposed to be hot.”

“Hot!” Jonah repeats. 

TK chuckles. “Yeah, you’re not used to this, bud. It gets way hotter here than it does in New York.” 

“It does?” 

“Mhm. Think summer all the time.”

Jonah’s grin goes wide. “Yay,” he cheers. “Can we bring Lou-Two with us?”

TK laughs again. “To get ice cream? Probably not, he likes staying here. But you can help me feed him some red peppers later.”

“Okay!”

They fall into silence for a few blessed moments and TK’s gaze naturally drifts to Carlos again. Carlos is already looking back, and his fingers dance along TK’s neck. 

‘Love you,’ Carlos mouths, and TK smiles. 

‘Love you too,’ TK mouths back, and then puckers his lips to ask for a kiss. 

brighter in the morning

co-written with the lovely @paperstorm <3

Sometimes nights together are hard to come by, but TK and Carlos find ways to connect as husbands in the morning. A series of 12 mornings together for each of the 12 episodes in season 5 (plot permitting …)

Chapter One: 5x01 - 7.0k

Chapter Two: 5x02 - 3.8k

Chapter Three: 5x03 - 3.9k

Chapter Four: 5x04 - 2.4k

Chapter Five: 5x05 - 4.2k

Chapter Six: 5x06 - 6.6k

Chapter Seven: 5x07 - 5.7k

Chapter Eight: 5x08 - 2.8k

Chapter Nine: 5x09 - 3.2k

Chapter Ten: 5x10 - 5.3k

Chapter Eleven: 5x11 - 4.6k

Chapter Twelve: 5x12 - 5.4k

[genderqueerdykes]

I'm going to start throwing a tantrum if the popular leftist YouTubers keep saying Trans Women when talking about the effects of Trump's policies that very much can and do harm and kill trans men. Like I don't get it? What is the point of specifying trans Women every time they talk about broader trans issues? Do they even realize they're doing this?

this is a really good ask, thanks for taking the time to say it! that makes me really glad i don't watch anything even remotely political or related to queer topics on youtube. i'm not sure how other people can do it, it's entirely too stressful and it's way more common than not that people just end up getting sucked up into petty drama instead of talking about the queer experience or helping other queer people.

i have to be honest to god about this behavior: it's virtue signalling mixed with genuine trans(andro)phobia. the vast majority of it is straight up just virtue signalling and it's old as fuck. it is super obvious and i have no idea how people think they're doing anything good by behaving this way. this is a way for people to make Themselves feel better because they're patting themselves on the back for being sooooooooo progressive and sooooooo good to trans women. people want to look like a great ally to transfems without actually being one.

it's fucking annoying as hell and it's being done on purpose to show that that person doesn't give a singular shit about trans men or anyone else and is literally just sucking up to trans women in the hopes of gaining brownie points and looking more progressive. like it's glaringly apparent that people think that trans woman is the only way to be trans, can we call this bullshit for what it is? "trans person" does NOT mean "trans woman". if you want to specifically talk about trans women, just say that. don't do this weird thing where you're like "oh this is gonna affect trans people!" and then immediately say it as trans women.

trans women are not the only trans people. fucking stop this behavior. you are doing this on purpose. you are leaving out trans men on purpose for the sake of trying to look progressive and like you care about trans rights. all you're doing is proving that you are transphobic af and are only doing this to either suck up to trans women, or for trans women to intentionally erase trans men and completely leave them out of the conversation. like sometimes it IS trans women doing this and we HAVE to call it out. trans women can and do participate in transmasc erasure. we have to pretending that trans women can't hurt trans men, transmascs, nonbinary people, genderqueer people and all other kinds of trans people.

i 100% agree with you. if we're talking about trans issues in general why do people ONLY say trans women and that's it? i don't know how to say it any other way than transphobic legislature hurts every single trans person. every single one. masc, femme, both, something else altogether. all of us are affected. what about genderfluid people? what about bigender people? what about transfems who aren't women? what about agender people? what about transneutral people?

trans does not mean "Trans women and trans women only". stop this behavior. we GET it. you wanna LOOK like you care about trans women. we GET that you want to suck up to us for Progressive Brownie Points. like people really think we can't see this shit. people really think that we cannot tell that people are pandering to us just so they can pat themselves on the back for looking like they care about trans rights. we can fucking see that you're doing this to try to get the transfems in your life to think highly of you while you're not actually helping them at all.

i need people to understand that transfems and trans women are aware of how fucking phony this shit sounds, even when it's coming from other transfems and trans women. like we are nowhere near as dumb as y'all think we are. i honestly find it really fucking nasty that people think that trans women are too dumb to tell when people are just sucking up to us to try to make themselves look better. if you ask me, this behavior is just as transmisogynistic as it is transandrophobic, exorsexist and just transphobic in general.

you can't leave out every other single trans person for the sake of trying to gain rights for trans women. it's all of us, or none of us. leaving other trans people out of the discussion will not make trans womens' lives better or easier. we don't want this. stop it.

[28harryssunflower]

Could you maybe do an angsty one with a happy ending? Harry is mistreating/ not putting y/n or the relationship first. He gets defensive at first when y/n brings it up

I didn’t know what era you preferred, so I chose the 2017-ish era. Hope that’s fine! But in the end you can imagine whatever era lol. It’s just about the picture at the top!

Hope it matches your expectations xx

Gone but not forgotten

It wasn’t always like this.

There was a time when Harry made you feel like you were the most important thing in his world. He used to text you first thing in the morning, send you little voice notes throughout the day, and surprise you with coffee when he knew you had a long afternoon ahead. He used to come home and pull you into his arms like he needed you, like you were the best part of his day.

Now? Now, you felt like an afterthought.

It started slow - plans canceled at the last minute, phone calls ignored, messages left on read. Then it became days without a word from him. Nights where he barely acknowledged you. Excuses that felt emptier every time he spoke them.

And it wasn’t just the silence. It was how he treated you when he was home.

When you tried to talk, he barely listened, nodding absently as he scrolled through his phone. When you reached for him, he’d pull away, muttering that he was tired. He didn’t touch you the way he used to, didn’t look at you the way he used to. You felt invisible, like he had already walked out of the relationship but forgot to tell you.

And you tried. God, you tried.

You made his favorite dinners, hoping he’d sit and eat with you instead of disappearing into the bedroom. You asked him about his day, even when he never asked about yours. You pretended it didn’t hurt when he came home late and went straight to bed without so much as a goodnight.

But tonight, something inside you snapped.

It was nearly 2AM when he finally walked through the front door. You sat curled on the couch, staring at your phone, your last unanswered message still on the screen: When are you coming home?

He didn’t even look at you. Just sighed, kicked off his shoes, and dropped onto the couch like he was the one suffering.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, voice tight. “You don’t even look at me anymore.”

Harry barely reacted. Just ran a hand through his curls and muttered, “Not now.”

You let out a bitter laugh. “Right. Not now.”

“Can we not do this tonight?” he sighed.

“No, Harry. We are doing this tonight,” you snapped, standing up. “Because I am so tired of feeling like I don’t even exist to you.”

His jaw clenched, but he still wouldn’t look at you. “You’re being dramatic.”

Your heart cracked, but you pushed through. “Dramatic?” Your voice shook with anger. “I never see you. You don’t call, you don’t text, you barely talk to me. You’re home maybe twice a week, and when you are, you don’t even fucking acknowledge me.”

“I’ve been busy,” he muttered.

“Busy?” You let out a hollow laugh. “You’re always busy, Harry. But you’re never too busy for your friends. You’re never too busy for a night out. You’re never too busy to go to some fucking fashion event. You’re only ever too busy for me.”

His eyes snapped to yours, irritation flashing in them. “That’s not true.”

“It is true!” you shot back. “Do you even realize the last time we spent a full day together? The last time we had an actual conversation that wasn’t just me asking for your time?”

Harry rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “Christ, I can’t do this right now.”

Your whole body stiffened. “You never want to do this. You never want to talk. You just expect me to sit here and accept the fact that I don’t fucking matter to you anymore.”

His expression darkened. “That’s not fair.”

“No, what’s not fair is how I’ve felt these past few months,” you shot back, your voice rising. “You put everything before me. I feel like I don’t even fucking exist to you anymore!”

“You know that’s not true,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Do I?” You scoffed. “Because every single thing in your life comes first. The studio, the tour, your career, your friends. Fucking Christ, strangers get more of you than I do. I don’t even know if you love me anymore.”

Harry’s face twisted with frustration. “Are you serious right now?”

“Yes! I am dead serious! Because I’ve spent months wondering what the hell I did wrong! If I wasn’t pretty enough, if I wasn’t good enough. If you just fucking stopped loving me and didn’t have the decency to tell me.”

His whole body went still.

You swallowed hard, trying to stop your voice from shaking. “Do you have any idea what that feels like? To sit alone every night, wondering why you’re not enough for the person you love? To look in the mirror and hate yourself because you think you are the problem?” Your breath hitched, the weight of it all crashing down. “And the worst part? You let me. You let me believe that I wasn’t worth your time.”

Silence.

Harry just stared at you, his face pale, his lips slightly parted. He looked like you had just shattered something inside him.

And then the tears came. You broke, a sob ripping through your chest as you clutched your arms around yourself, trying to hold it all in. But then, suddenly, Harry was there.

His arms wrapped around you, holding you tightly. You tensed at first, but then the warmth of his embrace shattered whatever restraint you had left. You collapsed into him, burying your face in his chest, sobbing so hard your whole body shook.

He held you like he was afraid you’d disappear. His hands ran up and down your back, his lips pressed into your hair. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

You clung to him, gripping his hoodie, letting out every tear you had held back for months.

After what felt like forever, your sobs quieted. The exhaustion hit you like a wave, and Harry pulled you down onto the couch with him, tucking you into his chest. His arms stayed wrapped around you like he was afraid to let go.

“I never stopped loving you,” he murmured after a long silence. His voice was hoarse, like he had to force the words out. “I was just so caught up in everything, I- I didn’t see what I was doing to you.” He swallowed hard. “I hate that I made you feel that way. That I made you question yourself.”

You closed your eyes, your body still trembling. “You hurt me, Harry.”

“I know,” he whispered. His grip tightened around you. “I swear to you, I’ll fix this. I’ll fix us.”

You wanted to believe him

For now, you just let yourself breathe in his warmth, hoping that this time, he meant it.

The morning after the argument, you woke up to the sound of quiet movement in the kitchen. For a second, you thought you had imagined it. Harry was never up before you. But when you peeked into the kitchen, there he was.

He was standing by the stove, shirt rumpled, hair a mess, clumsily flipping pancakes.

It wasn’t perfect. There was flour on the counter, a sticky bottle of syrup sitting dangerously close to the edge, and from the slightly burnt smell, it was clear this wasn’t his first attempt. But when he turned around and saw you standing there, something in his face softened.

“Hey,” he said, almost hesitant.

You blinked. “You’re making breakfast?”

He scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah. I, uh… I figured you shouldn’t have to wake up alone again.”

Your heart clenched.

You wanted to be mad. Wanted to remind him that one breakfast wouldn’t erase months of neglect. But the sincerity in his voice, the way his green eyes searched yours like he was hoping you wouldn’t push him away - it made something in you thaw, just a little.

So you sat down, letting him serve you the most uneven stack of pancakes you’d ever seen. And when he poured your coffee just the way you liked it, remembering exactly how much sugar to add, you realized: He was trying.

That’s what the next few weeks were.

Small things, big efforts.

At first, it was just tiny changes - goodnight texts when he was at the studio late, longer hugs when he came home, soft kisses pressed into your hair when he thought you were asleep. He started noticing you again. Asking how your day was. Actually listening to your answers.

Then, the changes got bigger.

One night, when you were curled up on the couch scrolling through your phone, Harry sat down beside you and nudged your leg with his knee.

“Let’s go out tomorrow,” he said.

You glanced at him in surprise. “Out?”

“Yeah.” He reached for your hand, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. “Like a real date. Dinner, maybe a movie after. Whatever you want.”

You stared at him, half expecting him to say just kidding. But he didn’t. He just looked at you with this quiet determination, like he wanted to do this, like he needed to.

So you said yes.

And when the date actually happened, when he held your hand the entire time and kept stealing glances at you like he couldn’t believe he had let himself drift so far away from you - you felt the smallest flicker of hope.

The intimacy was the last thing to return.

It wasn’t that Harry didn’t touch you - he did. But there was a hesitancy now, a carefulness, like he was afraid to push too soon.

One night, as you lay in bed beside him, staring up at the ceiling, you whispered, “Why are you being so careful with me?”

Harry turned his head, his eyes heavy with guilt. “Because I don’t deserve to hold you the way I used to.”

Your chest tightened.

You turned on your side to face him, your fingers tracing absent patterns on his arm. “I still want you to.”

He swallowed hard. “I don’t want to hurt you again.”

“You won’t,” you murmured. “Not if you keep trying.”

For a long moment, he just looked at you. Then, slowly, carefully, he reached out and brushed a strand of hair from your face. His touch was hesitant, but when you leaned into it, he let out a shaky breath - like he had been holding it for weeks. Then he softly and carefully connected your lips.

And when he finally pulled you into his arms, holding you close, his lips pressing into the top of your head - you felt, for the first time in a long time, like maybe things could really be okay again.

Not perfect. Not yet.

But better.

And for now, that was enough.

[sequinsmile-x]

Alone Together

“My name is Emily Prentiss. I…live with Jack.”  

The nurse furrows her brows, “Are you his mother?” 

She clenches her jaw, cursing herself for correcting the other woman in the first place, for letting her worry fluster her to the point where she didn’t even think about letting the half-lie slip by her. She can see where this is going already, and it makes her tense, her shoulders so tight she thinks she might snap in half.

AKA - the one where Jack is in the hospital, but Emily isn't allowed to see him.

-x-

Hi besties,

Hope you are all okay <3

We are finally out of the longest January on record and at the end of another week! Here is some family hurt/comfort with our two idiots and Jack for you <3 I know a lot of you love Jack/Emily content so this is for you - you know who you are <3

As always, let me know what you think!

-x-

Words: 3,6k

Warnings: none!

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily doesn’t remember a single moment of the drive from the office to the hospital. She’d been on autopilot the entire time, her hands so tight around the steering wheel her knuckles were stark white, her skin so taut over bone she was surprised it didn’t split open as she desperately tried to think back to first thing that morning, to go over her interactions with Jack again and again to see if there was anything she could have missed. 

It had been a busy morning, like most mornings were in their house, and Jack had seemed fine. He’d been a little slower than he usually was in the morning, more tired, but when she and Aaron had both asked if he was okay he’d nodded. She wished she’d pushed, that she’d asked again, but her phone had rung, and so had Aaron’s and the day started in a hurry as work pulled them in different directions. She’d left the FBI shortly after she and Aaron got together, had grabbed the opportunity that Clyde offered her of going back to Interpol with both hands, any doubt she had about it gone as soon as he told her she didn’t need to leave DC for the offer to stand. She hadn’t regretted it for a moment, had always known it was the right thing for her and her relationships with the people she loved, but right now she wished she still worked with her fiance so she knew where the hell he was. 

The school had called her because they couldn’t get hold of Aaron. It was only after she was in her car and had got hold of Dave after leaving Aaron two voicemails, that she remembered he said he was going to a prison to conduct some interviews. He wouldn’t have his phone for hours, which meant she was all Jack had for now. Dave had promised her that he’d do his best to get hold of Aaron, even if it meant going to the prison and dragging him out of the interview room himself, and it had helped calm her down a little. 

She just about remembers to lock her car behind her as she marches into the hospital, still every part of the Interpol agent that she had been when she left the office, her gun and badge still on her hip, but with an undeniable air of a concerned parent too. She walks up to the nurse's desk and clears her throat, barely waiting for the nurse to look at her before she starts speaking. 

“I got a call about Jack Hotchner,” she says, sounding less anxious than she feels, “The school nurse called to say that he has suspected appendicitis. He was fine this morning, I don’t-”

“Mrs Hotchner,” the nurse replies, her smile annoyingly kind as she cuts over her, “These things can come on very quickly in children. Your son is currently being looked over by the doctor.”

“I’m not…” she clears her throat, stopping herself before she says too much that might get her nowhere fast, “My name is Emily Prentiss. I…live with Jack.”  

The nurse furrows her brows, “Are you his mother?” 

She clenches her jaw, cursing herself for correcting the other woman in the first place, for letting her worry fluster her to the point where she didn’t even think about letting the half-lie slip by her. She can see where this is going already, and it makes her tense, her shoulders so tight she thinks she might snap in half.

“I’m engaged to his father,” she says, digging out her wallet from her purse, slamming her driving license on the counter with more force than necessary, “Look, we have the same address.”

“Be that as it may, Miss Prentiss-”

“Agent Prentiss,” she corrects, again with more force than she means to, her desire to see Jack, to see the little boy she knows she couldn’t love more if he was hers, overriding her need to be polite. She sighs and looks at the nurse's name badge, “Look, Sophie, I poured his cereal this morning. It’s me he wants when he’s sick. Can you please just let me through?” 

Sophie smiles politely, clearly sorry that her hands are tied, “I’m sorry Agent Prentiss, but we can only let a parent or a legal guardian see him.”

She thinks of the paperwork they’d filled out, the paperwork to make her his legal guardian that was currently with the courts, and she curses herself for not doing it sooner. They’d waited until the purchase of the house had been finalised, until both her and Aaron’s names were on the deeds, to organise it. Their lawyers had told them it was better if their lives were more obviously intertwined, that family court would look on the addition to her in Jack’s life in a legal aspect more favourably if they were living together permanently. 

“His dad is at work,” she says, “I’ve tried to get hold of him.” 

“And his mother?” 

“His mother is dead,” Emily replies, half shouting it, and she sighs at herself, pinching the bridge of her nose when she realises she’s drawn the attention of more people around her. “Sorry,” she chokes out, blowing out a slow breath, “Is there really no way? He’s back there by himself.” 

Sophie shakes her head, “Not until his father gets here. But a nurse is with him, he isn’t alone I promise.” 

Emily considers pulling her badge from her belt, the weight of it almost pulling her down, and waving it around until someone lets her through. She considers doing what her family had always done - throwing money around, offering to buy the hospital a new wing until she was told she could see her little boy, but she knows it won’t help her. That it won’t help Jack. So she nods and heads towards the waiting area, swallowing back the emotions she won’t set free here, letting them sink into the lowest parts of her chest as she settles into an uncomfortable plastic chair. She twists her engagement ring around her finger and sucks in a breath. It’s bitter when she blows it back out, makes her feel nauseous as she thinks of Jack in a room just out of her reach with only strangers for company. 

“Damn it,” she says, wiping away a single stray tear from her cheek, determined it will be the only one she lets slip free before she goes home. She pulls her phone from her purse and groans when she has no missed calls from Aaron, “Where the hell are you?” 

___

Sophie takes pity on her about 30 minutes after she arrives and comes to tell her that Jack needs surgery. She still can’t let her see him, something is even harder to swallow now she knows the little boy needs an operation, but Sophie says she’ll tell Jack that Emily loves him and that she’ll see him later. 

Emily watches the clock, each minute a lifetime until she gets a call from Aaron. She has to be the calm one, has to tell him everything is okay, that Jack needs his appendix taken out but that he will be fine. He says he’ll meet her at the hospital and she makes him promise that he’ll drive safely, wryly jokes that she can’t deal with both of her Hotchner boys in hospital at the same time if he gets himself into an accident. 

At least, she thinks sadly to herself, if Aaron was in hospital she’d be able to see him. 

Almost two hours after she arrived, two hours of sitting in a hard, uncomfortable chair, the ache in her back nothing in comparison to the ache in her chest, Aaron finally arrives. She hears him before she sees him, his voice calling out for her the second he spots her. 

“Emily?” 

She stands up, her purse slipping from her lap to the ground, but she doesn’t pay it any attention. Instead, she lets Aaron pull her into a fierce hug, and she hugs him back just as tightly, her hand running soothing circles on his back. 

“He’s in surgery,” she says, cupping the back of his head as she pulls back, hoping that her smile is comforting, “He should be done soon.” 

He nods, and he looks older than he usually does. Anguish and fear pressed into the lines on his face, making them and the bags under his eyes deeper, “Why are you out here? Is something wrong-”

“No, honey,” she says, cupping his cheek, making him look at her as his eyes dart around the room, “They…” she clears her throat, tries to make sure her voice is even and doesn’t give way to her sadness and stress. He was the one she had to focus on for now, him and Jack. She could fall apart later when they were both okay, “I’m not his mom. Or his legal guardian yet,” she says, pressing her lips together to stop them from shaking, “They wouldn’t let me see him.” 

His eyebrows furrow, the line between them so deep she can’t stop herself from pressing her thumb into it, trying to soothe the anger she can see building there, “What?” He says, his voice low and stern as he looks around as if trying to find someone, anyone, to tell them exactly what he thought of that, “They wouldn’t let you see him? He was alone-”

“Aaron, baby, look at me,” she says, grasping his chin, “It’s okay,” she says, even though they both know it isn’t, even though she knows he can see how much it’s upset her too, “Jack is the most important thing right now, okay?” 

He nods sharply, his breath stuttering across her face as he presses his forehead against hers, desperately trying to seek out her strength and comfort. It’s enough to let her know just how stressed he is. Their displays of affection, their need for each other, were usually kept just for the safety of their home. The walls that surrounded them were the sanctuary neither one of them had had in years, or, in her case, ever. They sought each other out constantly, always pressed up against each other in one way or another whilst they were at home, as if they were storing up the love they had for each other for when they were apart. It felt like theirs, so it was rare for them to seek it from each other in public, to let other people - especially strangers - in on what felt so precious. 

She cups the back of his head to keep him close, gives him what he needs with her forehead pressed against his. She’d let him take all her strength if he needed it, would let it leech from her skin into his, because she knew when it was her turn, when she needed his strength, he’d give it to her in return. It was a give and take that they’d had since they simply friends, a cornerstone of their relationship that she knew made them as strong, that she knew allowed them to weather whatever storm life threw at them. 

“Come on,” she says, stamping her lips against his and smiling softly as she pulls back just enough to grab her purse from the floor before she sinks into his side again, her hand tight around his, “Now you’re here, they’ll tell us more.” 

They are shown through to the pediatric ward so quickly it feels absurd. Jack is already back from surgery and in a room, and the doctor tells them that he’ll be awake soon. It’s a relief, a weight off of both of their shoulders, when they see him. He looks smaller than usual, drowning in the starched sheets in a bed made for an adult, but other than that he looks like he’s sleeping. Aaron sits in the chair closest to the bed, and Emily sits next to him, their hands still linked together as they look at the little boy.  

“We’re going to have to fill the freezer with ice cream,” Emily says, resting her cheek against Aaron’s shoulder, “We both know he’ll ask.” 

Aaron chuckles dryly and turns his head to kiss her temple, “We both know you’ll give him anything he asks for.”

She gasps in fake outrage and pulls back to look at him, “Like you’re any better at saying no.” 

He hums and leans forward to kiss her, “We’ve got to get better at it before we have any more kids,” he quips, “Otherwise they’ll run rings around us.” 

The thought of it makes her smile, just like it always did. A baby that was half her and half him, physical proof of their love for each other out in the world for everyone else to see. The happiness doesn’t linger like usual, it fades as she looks at a sleeping Jack, as she rests her hand on his leg, because she wonders if, even when she is legally his guardian, the wider world would view him any less her son than any other children they may have. 

Jack groans, pulling her out of her thoughts, and she and Aaron both turn to look at him. 

“Jack, buddy,” Aaron says, standing up so he can sit on the edge of his bed. Emily stands up too, her hands on Aaron’s shoulders as she smiles down at the little boy, “How do you feel?” 

“My tummy hurts.” 

“You had to have an operation,” Emily says, breaking away from Aaron to sit on the edge of the other side of Jack’s bed, her hand reaching out for his, smiling when he holds her hand as tightly as he can, “Your tummy will feel sore for a few days but then you’ll feel better.”

He nods, “The nurse told me that you were here but you didn’t come to see me.” 

It’s like a knife to the heart, his innocence, the lack of understanding shining in his eyes, each a fresh wound that makes her want to take back her decision to sit peacefully in the waiting room. 

“I know, sweet boy,” she says, leaning in to kiss his forehead, “I’m sorry. I would have been here if I could. But she told me that she’d let you know that I love you.” 

He leans into her hand as she strokes his cheek, “I always know you love me,” he says, and he looks between her and Aaron, “Can we go home now?” 

“You have to stay here tonight,” Aaron says, running his fingers through Jack’s hair, “But if you’re feeling better tomorrow, the doctor said you might be able to go home. I’ll stay here with you tonight so you’re not by yourself.” 

Jack looks at Emily, “Are you staying too?” 

She shakes her head, and feels Aaron’s gaze burning into her cheek, “I can’t, honey. Only one of us has to stay and it has to be Daddy.” 

It was something else the doctor told them, that one parent or guardian could stay overnight, and it had been another kick in the gut. 

Jack furrows his brows, “But then you’ll be alone at home.” 

She sucks in a breath, covering it with a smile as she looks up at Aaron for a moment before she looks back at Jack, “I’ll be okay,” she says, not sure which one of them needs to hear it the most, “And I’ll come back tomorrow with some clothes for you and Daddy.” 

“And you’ll bring Rupert?”

“And of course, I’ll bring Rupert.” She smiles as she thinks of his favourite toy, a stuffed rabbit that Aaron told her had once been bigger than Jack, and she nods, Aaron reaches over Jack for her, seeking out the hand that wasn’t in Jack’s, and she takes it, squeezing his palm against hers in an attempt to comfort them both. “I’ll be okay.” 

This time, when she says it, she thinks she might be trying to convince herself. 

___

She gets takeout on the way home. 

She eats it in the kitchen, the house unbearably quiet around her, and as soon as she puts food down for Sergio, she heads upstairs. She showers quickly, the rush of the water a welcome distraction from the emptiness of her home, and then changes into a pair of Aaron’s sweatpants and one of his swearers - cuffing the pant legs so she can walk without tripping over - settling for trying to seek comfort in the clothes of the man she loves since she can’t be in his arms. 

Before she gets into bed, she goes into Jack’s room. She picks up Rupert from his bed, buries her face in his worn fur and breathes in. She takes him with her to the master bedroom, and she sneaks under the covers, the vastness of their bed bigger than ever without Aaron next to her. She was used to sleeping without him when he was on cases, but having to do it when he was just across town felt different - especially because Jack wasn’t here to sneak into bed with her. She sighs as she pulls the covers around her, smiling sadly when Sergio jumps onto the bed with a muted thump, his meow loud in the otherwise quiet room, she reaches out to scratch between his ears.

“It’s just the two of us tonight, Serg,” she says, sighing sadly, “Just like it used to be,” he meows again, “I know, buddy. I don’t like it anymore either.” 

She jumps when her phone rings, and she sits up, scrambling for her phone, panic she’d pushed down earlier making a quick return the second she sees Aaron’s name on the screen. She answers quickly, her hold on Rupert against her chest tight. 

“Aaron? Is everything okay? Did something-”

“Em, he’s okay,” he assures her, his voice low and quiet as he cuts her off before she can spiral any further, “He’s asleep. I thought I’d call to check on you.”

She chokes on a sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh, and she shakes her head at herself as the tears she’d been suppressing all afternoon spill down her cheeks, “I’m okay.” 

“Sweetheart,” he says, “I’m not okay. Today was a lot. It’s okay if you’re not okay too.” 

She hums, almost mad at him for how well he knew her, and she wipes her cheek before she rests it against the top of Rupert’s head, her tears dampening his fur, “I just…I forget sometimes.” 

“You forget what, baby?” 

“That I’m not his mom,” she says, unable to stop the sob that tears from her throat, the sound turning into a wet laugh as Sergio nudges at her hand, his head tilted to the side as if he’s trying to work out what’s wrong, “God, I’m sorry,” she says, sniffing, “Your son’s in the hospital and I’m the one crying.” 

“He’s our son, Emily,” he says, his voice firm and loving, “He’s yours just as much as he is mine and Haleys,” he laughs wryly, “I think we both know if given a choice, he would have wanted you to stay with him.” 

“That’s not true,” she replies automatically, “You’re the centre of his world and you know it.” 

“And you’re the sun,” he says, and she scoffs, shaking her head even though he can’t see her, “It’s true. We Hotchner men are unable to stop being drawn to you.” 

She chuckles and wipes her cheek, “If Reid were listening in, he’d remind you that the planets orbit the sun because its mass is bigger, and therefore it creates a gravitational pull,” she scrunches her nose up, “If I didn’t know better, or if you were my mother, I’d think this was a very creative way of telling me I’ve put on weight.” 

“Never, Em. You know that.” He laughs at her joke, the sound music to her ears, a far cry from the strain in his voice earlier when he’d shown up at the hospital, “Sometimes I forget I’m marrying a nerd.” 

“You love it, and you know it.” 

“I love you,” he says, and he sighs, “We’ll get the paperwork fast-tracked, Em. I know a guy who can help. This won’t happen again.” 

She hums, “Well, his appendix can’t get inflamed for a second time anyway.” 

“You know what I mean, sweetheart.” 

“Yeah,” she says, swallowing thickly as she wipes a tear from her cheek, “I know. I love you too, by the way,” she looks over at his empty side of the bed, “Our bed is cold without you.” 

“We’ll be home tomorrow night, Jack seems to be doing well.” 

“And until then, I have Sergio and Rupert for company.” She says, and she can practically hear his smile down the phone and it’s a comfort she hadn’t known she’d needed. She sinks into the bed, pulling the covers around herself again, and she sighs contentedly. 

“Want me to stay on the line until you fall asleep?” He asks, and she almost tells him no, almost shakes off the offer and tells him she’ll be fine, but she wants this. Wants him. And until she can have him and Jack back with her, she’ll make do with what little bits of him she can have. 

“Yeah,” she says, tucking Rupert against her chest, “I’d like that.” 

She falls asleep as he tells her about his day at work, about the interview she never got to ask him about, and she knows that whilst tonight she might be alone, she certainly wasn’t lonely. 

[solarismoons]

Astronomy (prologue)

‘It’s astronomy, we’re two worlds apart’

Wally Clark x fem!reader

Summary: After suffering a near-fatal fall off the school roof, you started seeing things that weren’t actually there. Or- people who weren’t actually there.

Warnings: mentions of suicide, addiction, drugs, lots of angst.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Your legs dangled off the roof, the moon's dim light illuminating the grass below. Tears filled your waterline and your eyebrows pulled together. Silent sobs filled the night air, getting lost in the whispers of the wind.

There was no sugarcoating it, no easy way to say it–Your life fucking sucked. Drugged out Dad, your Mom out of the picture, the whole nine yards. If your life were a shitty low-budget movie, you and Nicole would’ve laughed at the lazy plot of it all.

Nicole.

The poison of her name ran through your veins and tore a hole through your heart. You’d grown up with her, she was there through your worst moments, and you were there for hers. But when you hit middle school, it wasn’t you and her against the world. It was always Maddie.

Maddie. Maddie. Maddie.

You truly had nothing against her. You had nothing against her, or Simon, or even Xavier of all fucking people. But everything in the past few years was always about her. The two of you were simply friends by extension. Two separate people pushed into the same friend group. But still, it seemed like the whole world revolved around her.

Nicole always had an obsession with Maddie. What she ate, what she wore, how she decorated her locker…Down to how she fucking spoke. Nicole copied every. Single. Part of her. You never knew if she wanted her, or if she wanted to be her. Whatever it was, it drew you two apart. You slowly started losing your best friend.

The pain and loneliness was beginning to be too much. You felt so suffocatingly alone, the only person you could confide in being lost in a la-la land of infatuation.

So, you found yourself on top of the school roof at 2 in the morning. It wasn’t high enough to die. Maybe high enough to make you hurt. High enough so someone would actually care for you. The thought of jumping crossed your mind- just for a split second. It was a fleeting thought, soaring quickly through your head like a turbojet.

Tears began to spill harder, gushing out of your eyes like a fountain. Your sobs became louder. You grounded the meat of your palms into your eyes, desperate to stop the tsunami from streaming down your face.

Behind you, words faded in and out of the breeze, and heavy whispers echoed across the silent roof.

“Is… she…”

“I….do- know…”

It was bits and pieces of phrases you shouldn’t have been hearing. Phrases that broke through the barrier of life and death itself. You didn’t know it at the time, though. Still, you whipped your head around, your lip quivering just slightly. Shadows faded in and out across the roof, the air seemingly moving in the wrong direction.

Your sobbing quickly died down, and you squinted, your head beginning to swim with confusion. The shadows shifted in and out of reality, almost. You would not have noticed them if you hadn’t been looking so meticulously.

The phantom-like whispers snuck closer as if reaching out for you. Your heart began to pick up speed, beating against your chest painfully. Breath hitching in your throat, you hastily stood up. Palms slick with sweat, goosebumps bursting across your skin, legs trembling, you yelled out, begging them to stop.

You couldn’t comprehend the gravity of your situation, couldn’t comprehend what the hell you were seeing. You took a step back, your heel hooking on the lip of the roof. Gravity took control, yanking you down over the edge.

The last thing you saw was a large hand stretching out towards you.

────────────

Wally loomed over you, his head tilted. Eyebrows knitted together with concern, he glanced over to Rhonda and Charley, who seemed oddly standoffish.

“Is… Is she okay?” He questioned.

Rhonda rolled her cherry lollipop against her cheek, “I don’t know Moose, maybe she’s just sleeping?”

Wally narrowed his eyes at her. Why couldn't she understand the urgency of the situation? Here was a girl, lying half-dead on school property with a puddle of blood pooling beneath her head.

“What if she dies?” Wally slid his hands into his pockets, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth. His teeth sunk into the plush skin.

Charley frowned, wringing his hands together. “I mean… We can’t really do anything, Wally,” He reasoned. Wally knew he was right. If you died, you died. He couldn’t stop it. But it didn’t stop him from feeling any less awful. He felt… Drawn to you–in some incomprehensible way.

The group whipped their heads back down to you when you stirred. A soft groan escaped your lips. They watched with bated breath as you brought a shaky hand to the back of your head. You pulled your fingers back to your eye line, your pupils dilating at the smear of crimson.

The back of your skull throbbed with a searing, blinding pain that drew out another groan. You scrunched your eyelids together, fuzzy dots crowding your vision. At the same time, Wally crouched down next to you, fingers sprawled out on the soft grass.

Soft earth rustled beneath the soles of Rhonda’s boots as she turned on her heel. Charley glanced at you, then at Wally, then back at Rhonda. Confliction flashed across his soft features. As bad as he felt, there was nothing he could physically do.

“We should probably go,” Charley grumbled.

Still, Wally looked back down at you. He brought his fingers a feather’s touch away from your jaw before drawing them back. As much as he wanted to reach out to you, to help you, he couldn’t. He sat back on his haunches and took one last look at your pretty face.

Charley and Rhonda were halfway across the field when your eyes slowly cracked open. Wally’s eyes widened as you looked at him. Your eyes didn’t look through him. They looked at him. Your gaze pierced through the noise of the wind around you. It locked onto him with an intensity that sent a shiver down his spine. It wasn’t possible. You were living. Breathing. Your soul was still tied to the land of the living. You still had a fucking pulse, a heartbeat.

“What the fuck…” He whispered.

You don’t remember what happened next. Only that you scrambled up, despite the agony in your head and the strain in your bones, and found yourself at home just minutes later, shoes caked in mud.

You don’t know what the fuck you thought you saw. It was a hallucination. Your brain had conjured his image up, projected him in front of you. You fell off the roof, for fucks sake.

Still, your eyes glided over to a picture on the wall of your living room. In it, stood your dad and his high school best friend--Who died 40 years ago.

[rafesweetie]

track v. THE ARCHER! (feat. rafe cameron and prissy!reader)

“i never grew up, it’s getting so old, help me hold onto you”

soulmates. that’s what you and rafe were. two souls destined to be forever tied together.

rafe wished he actually liked it.

he felt as though he was putting you through hell daily, the emotionally immature and extremely unstable boy was lending you all his problems, every single horrible thing he’d done, so it could be your problem instead of his.

you’d thought he’d changed. and in your defence, he thought he did too. when he shaved his hair, old rafe was gone for good, in his place was a put-together ceo who had a normal life. until his father died.

in all honesty, rafe had always wished he’d die someday, so that rafe could finally be the man. but, now that it’s actually happened, he feels like the fake dream world he put together has collapsed.

you walk into the bedroom after coming in after getting your nails and eyelashes done, so excited to show rafe, singing his name playfully when you come in. but your smile drops and you stop in your tracks when you see him.

big shoulders hunched over, elbows on his knees, as he sits on the edge of the king-sized bed with his face in his big hands. you’re unsure if he’s crying or just upset.

“…rafe?” you ask, confused.

“hey baby,” he mutters, voice thick and gruff. he won’t look up at you.

you go to sit beside him, rubbing his back through his shirt and scratching it with your new nails. “what’s wrong?” you ask, voice gentle.

“nothin’. rough day,” he sighs, breath shaky.

“are you.. crying?”

“no. no baby, c’mon, i’m a man,”

“i didn’t ask your gender, i asked if you were crying,”

“i know,” he groans, finally lifting his face up to stare at you. “i am crying, okay? rough day, told you,”

“oh,” you’re sadly unsure how to comfort him, you never have before. he’s had his moments but they were mostly anger, never sadness.

“god, i don’t even know how you fucking stay with me,” he sighs, rubbing his eyes. “i’m a mess. even my own dad didn’t stay with me, not my sister… i mean— you’ve seen my dark side and yet you still stick around,”

“you don’t have a ‘dark side’, you’re not some silly villain, you just have had it rough and you’re trying to cope,” you try to counter his words and assure him. “..but yeah, i guess sometimes you scare me, but i’ll always stick around,”

“who could ever leave me, anyway? not like i let people, m’always stupidly pushy, ruins everything,” he mutters. “but who could wanna stay?”

“me,” you instantly say.

“don’t know how. you’re dating a… fatherless killer— murderer. and you just admitted you get scared of me. god, leave me if you get scared, don’t be stupid,”

“can you stop thinking like that please?” you ask. “you literally misunderstand yourself, which i didn’t know was possible. you’re so brave, and.. killing peterkin was a mistake, but everything you’ve done has been for a good reason. just bad at executing ideas. doesn’t make you a bad guy, i’ll say it over and over again,”

“you see right through me,” he sighs. “wanna know something? that’s terrifying. i hate that you see right through me, i hate it so much.”

“why? because i know you?”

he nods, and you continue rubbing his back. you’re quiet, unsure how to respond and assure him.

“if i didn’t know you, then no one would,” you respond. “isn’t that scarier?”

he nods. “my dad knew me, was scared shitless of him,”

“so you’re scared of me?”

“knowing me means you have some power over me,”

“knowing you means that i’m gonna stick around and not run the opposite direction like you’re so afraid of.”

“you’re smart today, huh?”

you crack a smile at that. you caress his cheek and wipe away some of the tears. “i think you’re always ready for combat. but you don’t need to be, not with me. i’m not gonna hurt you, not gonna do anything. you’re just as scared of me as i am of you,”

“then help me hold onto you, don’t wanna lose you,” he whispers, then he kisses you.

you hate the feeling of his damp skin on yours, knowing the reason, but you have to be there for him, be the archer, be the brave.

[imsogonesposts]

Ocean Blue Eyes, Looking in Mine

|| ao3 || finnick masterlist || an: i wrote this cause i thought rep tv was gonna be announced 😕 || based on the song gorgeous by taylor swift || requests are open!! ||

summary: Finnick flirts with you at one of the Capitol parties. (wc: 942)

warnings: drinking, I think thats it!!

The only interesting thing about the Capitol parties you were forced to attend, was that every now and then, you got to see Finnick Odair. The two of you had spoken a few times in District 4, but never enough to be considered friends. But he had always seemed nice, and he clearly still was, even after all these years, even after the Hunger Games.

“You might get alcohol poisoning if you keep drinking tonight, honey,” he whispered, his voice smooth as silk. 

“Why do you talk like that?” You ask, playfully swatting his hand away as he tries to take your glass of wine away. You needed the wine to distract you from the party. From its blinding lights that were starting to hurt your eyes, and the overly eager citizens of the Capitol that were beginning to get on your nerves. You needed it to keep you from counting down the seconds until you could go home. 

“Talk like what?” He asked with one of those charming smiles he always seemed to have on. The smile you both loved and hated. 

“Like that,” you reply, smiling as he looked at you in confusion. 

You had never admitted it to anyone, but you had always had a bit of a crush on Finnick Odair. It started when you were both five years old, and he helped you up after you tripped over a few seashells on the beach. He had helped you up, brushed some of the sand off you, and helped you look for your parents after noticing your legs had started to bleed. And after he brought you back to them, he had stayed to make sure you were okay. You weren’t sure if he remembered that day, but you did, and you couldn’t help but have a crush on him afterward. A crush that still stood as you looked at his face. At his golden hair, at his dimples, and at those blue eyes that reminded you all too much of the ocean that surrounded your shared district. It wasn’t fair that he could still make you feel this way, all these years later, even if you two have only spoken a handful of times since then. You decided to blame it on the alcohol.

“Excuse me,” you suddenly state, “I see someone I should talk to,” you say with a smile. You didn’t know who you would go talk to, but that seemed like a problem for the future. Right now, you just needed to clear your head, and Finnick Odair certainly wasn’t helping with that. 

You noticed the flash of a small frown on Finnick’s face before he quickly replaced it with one of his charming smiles. “Of course,” he replied, taking your free hand and raising it to his lips. “It was lovely talking to you again,” he finished, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand as he said your name. 

You knew Finnick Odair was a well-known flirt, which is why you tried to calm your heart as his lips touched the back of your heart. But the alcohol coursing through your veins certainly wasn’t helping with that.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” You suddenly asked, immediately regretting the question as he smiled at you—a soft, sweet smile. 

“No,” he replied, “I do not.” 

The two of you stared at each other as you went over his response in your head. His ocean blue eyes looking into yours as you contemplated how to respond. You felt as if you could drown in those eyes as he creased his eyebrows, looking at you in confusion. 

“Why do you look confused?” He asked as you shrugged with a smile.

“I’m deciding if that’s a good or bad thing.” You replied.

“If I have a girlfriend?” He asked with a laugh. You simply nodded. “Why would it be a bad thing?”

Because you’re so gorgeous, it actually hurts. It doesn’t make sense how you of all people could be single. “Because if you’re single, there’s no hope for the rest of us,” you joke. 

“I’m sure there’d be hope for you,” he replies with a smile. “You’re absolutely gorgeous.”

You could feel yourself grow warm at his compliment. “Does that usually work on the other girls?” You joked. He just laughed. 

“I wouldn’t know,” he replied. “I don’t really go around calling other girls gorgeous,” he said with a wink. 

Oh. “What do you call them then?” You asked. 

“Pretty,” he replied, moving a piece of hair behind your ear. “You’re the only one I’ve ever called gorgeous.” His hand drops back to his side as he smiles. 

Oh. He only ever called you gorgeous? Oh

“Well,” he says, glancing around the room, “I shouldn’t keep you from the person you needed to talk to,” he said. 

You had forgotten that. You wanted to admit you had lied about needing to talk to someone in order to avoid his gaze. To avoid the butterflies in your stomach every time he looked at you, touched you, and flirted with you. You wanted to stay and continue talking with him. To continue letting him compliment you as you stared at the captivating eyes you wished to get lost in. But you had embarrassed yourself around him enough for one night. 

“Right, of course,” you replied with a nod, fighting a smile as he pressed a kiss to the back of your hand once more. “I’ll see you around, Finnick,” you said as he smiled, lightly squeezing your hand before releasing it. 

“I hope so,” he responded before leaving to mingle with the citizens of the Capitol. 

[xhollowfaerie]

Añoranza

a/n: damn, wombo combo!! two in a day, lol! sequel to this tags: demi4demi soft Rookanis, yearning, hurt/comfort, supportive Spite, idk why but they speak like they're in a historical drama romance lol

-

Rook crept into the dining room in the early morning hours - or at least, that's what Lucanis estimated. It was always daytime in the Fade. He despised it like he despised little else, except Venatori.

“Coffee?” he would always ask. This time, the sight of her left his lips agape before they pursed with emotion. Grief, relief. He wasn’t sure.

A heartfelt “Rook” slid past his lips instead. He wished it could convey even a fraction of all the things he dreamt of telling her.

It’s so good to see you.

Oh, how I’ve missed you.

We have been worried sick. It’s so hard to focus. You’re all I think about.

Let me take care of you. You look exhausted.

I’ve made you coffee every morning.

I know you’re not okay.

I'm so sorry.

How could I ever show you how much you mean to me?

She shuffled towards him, dragging her bare feet against the cold floor. With a scowl, he ducked into the pantry and procured a pair of his own slippers. She slipped wordlessly onto a chair, and he kneeled in front of her, placing them onto the floor. 

He felt something burn in his throat when he looked up.

Empty.

Rook… looked… so empty. It almost broke him.

Spite wailed, tugging onto Lucanis.

‘Misery. Smells like old wounds. Shame! Pretty flower... Wilting!’

A Crow never regarded anything with such love and softness in their eyes.

‘Failed, Lucanis. We failed Rook! She protects us. We couldn’t… Protect our pretty rose.’

Spite sniffled, sitting in the chair next to Rook, behind Lucanis. ‘Tried to help… didn’t work’ he lamented, uncharacteristically quiet. He bit his tongue.

No, he thought. We don’t give up this easily, Spite.

The demon’s scowl lessened. He idly stuck his tongue out over a plate, forgetting he couldn’t see his reflection in it. It made him snarl.

A Crow always fulfills their contract.

People come in three kinds. Family, contracts, enemies.

Which kind did Kore qualify as, as the yearning, adoring gaze of a melancholic Dellamorte studied her so?

She felt the overwhelming urge to collapse into his arms, to wrap hers around him sweetly; to cry into his chest, to run her fingers over his breathtaking face and kiss him until every single thought other than his lips left her mind.

But Kore saw the image of Viper, blighted and bleeding, and grit her teeth, teetering on the verge of tears again as she clenched her fists. It was hard enough seeing Ashur like that… if she ever got Lucanis hurt, she would never forgive herself, or be able to live with it. Live without him.

“Rook” his voice rang again, this time rougher, missing the Antivan accent as he rested his forehead against the side of her thigh. “Lucanis hates. Seeing Rook. So sad.” 

She brought a hand to her mouth and whimpered, hesitantly placing a hand atop his head before it moved on its own, gently running through his hair. “I’m so sorry.”

Spite knew not to overstep this time, letting Lucanis return not a moment later. He was so taken with her, their intimate touches escaped him as he stood a bit taller. How he longed to tuck the pink strads over her face behind her ear.

Do it, the voice in his head rang, and Lucanis couldn’t tell anymore if it was supposed to be a demon or an angel on his shoulder, but, very hesitantly, he obeyed nonetheless. 

His hand paused mid-air as it reached for Kore; he almost jerked it back in fear as she glanced at it, horrified by her awareness, but instead was met with her warmth as she desperately held onto his digits and pulled them further to her face, nuzzling into it, inhaling the scent of his skin, feeling the weight of his fingers ground her.

His eyes trembled, heart erratic in his chest as his other hand followed Spite’s guidance, pushing the mess of hair back so he could see her face.

“I cannot change a thing” he finally broke the silence between them, the self-hatred lingering deep within him, “but I know this better than I have ever known anything in my life: I am your blade, Rook. Sharpened and ready. If you wish to use me for revenge, I will gladly oblige.”

Her tears rolled down onto his hands, and he gained the courage to inch closer. “Not only do I owe you my life, I now owe you the life of everything I have ever held dear” he was so soft-spoken; he could never, ever express the magnitude of his appreciation for her, let alone repay her- “But in exchange, you paid much too steep a price. That which you love.” For that, I cannot forgive myself.

His voice trembled, the gnawing frustration inside him burning at the corner of his eyes. This was so unfair to her, so fucked up. Would he ever stop wronging her? And to think, the most selfish parts of him still wanted her so badly, as if she hadn’t given enough for a lifetime already.

“Lucanis” Kore whispered, and while her heart ached much too painfully to ever part with the words she desired, her eyes did their best to fill in the blanks, gazing at him like she had never gazed at anything, anyone ever before. 

Not all that I love is lost.

He felt his heart threaten to shatter, swell and shrivel all at the same time.

She mustered half of a smile, glancing away shyly as their circumstances sunk in. Kore slowly let go of his hand at the same time he began to retreat with a mirroring blush, both clearing their throats. He ran his hand over the side of the table, as if to smoothen out the tablecloth lacking any wrinkles simultaneously with her shyly tugging her baggy sweater down, in an attempt to cover up more of her thighs.

Spite stared at them, biting into his own hand to stop himself from saying anything, wide-eyed and filled with hope.

“Thank you” Kore choked out, tentatively glancing up at him as she stood to her feet.

He straightened his back and looked around the room awkwardly, their gazes catching each-other for a brief respite before they both glanced away again. “It is I who should thank you, but there are no words in this world to express the light you bring into my life.”

She flushed in place, as did he - mierda, he must have been reading too many romance novels, what in the Maker’s name possessed him to say that?! Of course, Spite snickered, despite the words belonging to Lucanis and Lucanis only.

Kore slipped her feet into the oversized slippers, fidgeting with her scarred fingers in front of herself. “You always say the sweetest of things, and I always fail to reciprocate, despite wishing nothing more…” she mumbled, reaching a hand up to nervously play with her hair. “You have done more for me than you know” she breathed, slowly clenching her hand, steadying her voice. “You do not only bring darkness, Lucanis.”

The exhale was louder than he intended, blinking rapidly as he tried to process her words. Unsure of what to do with himself anymore, he glanced at their empty coffee cups, scrambling to his only saving grace, but she was faster.

“Coffee? I’ve… missed it terribly.” 

The honey in her voice wrapped him in the sweetest trance. She couldn’t get enough of the longing in his eyes, the gravelly sound of his voice reminding her of the oddly comforting feel of wet coffee grounds sticking to her fingers. “As have I.”

He gave her a charming smile, throwing a towel over his shoulder. She watched him roll his sleeves up with a tilt of her head, curving her lips and following behind him, doing the same with a giggle as she relished the sound of his voice again. “Coming right up.”

[writingsonsaturn]

all you had to do was stay

{ masterlist } { the 'taylor swift' series }

🪐 - the amount of re-writing i did for this one was crazy but hopefully you like a bit of this sadness

wc - 687

content warning: angst, break-up, emotional distress, mention of a death

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

To say you weren’t expecting Tim at your door at ten o’clock at night would have been an understatement.

He had called your relationship quits just short of two weeks ago, explaining the cliché of it being him and not you. Telling you he was sorry but simply couldn’t continue loving you. Your eyes stung at his words as you told him repeatedly to leave, to just get the fuck out, his over said apologizes ricocheting off your skin like a bullets hitting steel as you pushed him out the door and slammed it in his face.

You fell with your back against the door, you had felt as though your heart was ripped into halves and Tim took one side with him. You had a couple of sick days you haven't used up at work and decided then would be as good a time as ever. 

One full week of nothing but tears and the occasional contemplation of calling, or texting Tim but in the end deciding it wasn’t a healthy nor good option. However, you only allowed yourself one full week of sulking before moving on with your life, you didn’t want to fall into a pattern of bad habits. 

Although, some would argue forcing yourself only one week to grieve a long-term relationship is in itselfs, unhealthy.

So now after not properly dealing with the breakup and over-exhausting yourself with work, you were not pleased to see Tim. 

“What?’ you said in a harsh tone

“I needed to see you,” Tim explained with his voice on edge. 

You had to keep yourself from rolling your eyes and laughing humorlessly, “and why is that?” your voice clearly unimpressed. “It was a bad day at work, someone who looked exactly like you died and i just couldn’t get the thought of you out of my head” Tim finished with eyes red as rubies. The look in his eyes almost had you reeling him in, holding him to your chest and assuring him that you were okay.

Instead, your eyes only softened as you said “Tim i'm okay, but you need to go.” His heart was crushed hearing you say that, although he can’t say he didn’t deserve it. He destroyed you, with the only reason being he was too scared to fall in love again and besides telling you that, he shut you out. 

“Please, Y/n, can I crash here tonight” Tim nearly begged. He looked like he might soon be sick if you didn’t allow him in, but you couldn’t. After everything he did, and told you the night he broke up with you, you couldn’t accept him back in no matter how much he beggar or how much it hurt your heart to see him like this.

“This is so, so goddamn unfair Tim” you spoke with anger as tears appeared on your waterline, “this is what you wanted, and now yo-you think you can just come back when you need a ‘pick me up’?” you heard your heartbeat in your ears as you told him off.

“I know, I know baby-” Tim tried before you cut him off,

 “No, no you don’t get to fucking call me that, you ended it.”

The hope in his eyes dimmed out the moment he realized that it was, indeed, actually over. He did end it. All of this was because of him, your tears, your pain, every single thing, was his fault. There wasn’t anything he could do except sit there and take it.

“Listen, I had a long day too, so I need you to leave” you sighed out whilst rubbing between your eyes. Then, with one last look into your eyes, like he was searching for a reason to stay, yet all he could find was disdain and anger. So he stepped back saying a quiet “i'm sorry’ and walked away from your door with his hand on the back of his neck.

It seems like collapsing against an angry closed door was starting to become a recurring action, and you could only hope this would be the last time he showed up.  

[yvaineseleneposts]

We never talk about it

Requested: no

A/N: based on the song Sharpest tool by Sabrina Carpenter

Pairing: Nico Hischier x reader

Words: around 1k

Warning(s): a little sad story

It started with a simple text. A "Hey" on a random Tuesday. Nico always did that—showed up when I was just starting to move on, like some ghost from the past refusing to be exorcised.

I stared at my phone, my fingers hovering over the keyboard. Ignore him. You don’t need to go through this again. But, like every other time, I gave in.

"Hey," I replied, knowing damn well where this was going to lead.

We had been something once—something undefined, something thrilling, something that left me constantly second-guessing. I met his friends, laughed at their stupid inside jokes, and even spent nights tangled in his sheets. But then, just like that, he’d disappear. He’d act like none of it ever mattered. Like I didn’t matter.

I should have known better.

___

"You know you’re not the sharpest tool in the shed, right?" I teased one night, lying on his couch, his arm lazily draped over me. His phone face down on the couch next to him. He said it was just a habit, but I knew better. I just never wanted to admit it.

Nico laughed, shaking his head. "Wow, way to boost my confidence."

"Hey, I’m just saying. You forget things easily. One second, we're good, and then—poof—you’re gone."

He didn’t respond. He just pressed a soft kiss to my temple and changed the subject. That was the thing about Nico. He never wanted to talk about it.

And then one day, he took a left. Out of nowhere, he was gone. Again. No explanation. Just radio silence.

___

A week turned into a month. The empty texts and late-night calls that used to fill my phone became just…nothing. I didn’t hear a word until the guilt crept in—until he decided to send a soft, "Hey" as if he hadn’t just shattered me.

I should have ignored it.

But I didn’t.

"What do you want, Nico?" I finally asked after weeks of keeping my emotions bottled up.

"I—I don’t know," he admitted.

And that was the worst part. He didn’t know. He never knew. And I was an idiot for thinking he ever would. I spent so much time trying to decipher him, trying to find meaning in the spaces between his words, in the pauses between his texts.

Did he miss me? Did he ever care? Or was I just something to pass the time?

The worst part was, I could never ask. We never talked about it. Because if we talked about it, we’d have to face it. And Nico wasn’t ready for that.

___

I found out through a friend.

"He was at his ex’s place last night." That single sentence made my stomach drop. It shouldn’t have hurt. He wasn’t mine. He never was. But it did.

"Did he say anything about me?" I asked, hating myself for even caring.

She hesitated. "He…he said he found God."

I let out a humorless laugh. "At his ex’s house?"

She shrugged. "I don’t know, maybe he’s just trying to figure things out." Figure things out. Right. That was always his excuse.

___

It happened overnight. One day, I was the person he turned to when he was lost, when he needed someone to anchor him. The next, I was the villain in his story.

His silence was the loudest thing I had ever heard. I tried to talk to him, to get some kind of closure. But he wouldn’t let me.

I opened up to him. Told him things I never told anyone. And he made me believe he cared. Then he logged out. Disappeared. Left me dumbfounded. And still, we never talked about it.

___

The silence was a strategy, I realized. Because no matter how much time passed, he was still there. Top of mind. Always.

I hated him for that. Hated myself more for letting him hold that power over me. But I wasn’t going to waste another year wondering if it meant something to him. If I was just another casual mistake. I wasn’t going to be an idiot anymore. So I finally did what I should have done a long time ago.

I let him go. And this time, I didn’t look back.

Months passed, and the ache dulled. It didn’t disappear, but it became manageable.

Every now and then, I'd check my phone, half-expecting a message. But I stopped hoping.

One day, I ran into him at a coffee shop. He looked at me, eyes wide, like he had seen a ghost. I nodded, a polite acknowledgment, and walked past him.

For the first time, I didn’t feel the urge to talk to him.

Maybe we never talked about it, but I had my answer now.

Some things don’t need to be said. Some stories don’t need an ending.

They just…end.

[smallblogforstuff]

Tbh I am in no place to complain how Gray is literally the punching bag for the Gametoons Sprunki universe considering how I’m still working on that Rainbow Episode rewrite where Gray is literally torn apart mentally and physically.

But yea get this man an ice pack, several apologies from everyone who hurt him, and screw it- a villain arc, he desperately deserves it (I do have a potential villain Gray AU where he went insane before the color stealing episode, but I haven’t worked on it much.)

I also noticed that Gray is not only the main target of these conflicts, but he’s also the one to solve most of these issues. With Har, Mo, and Nee he was the one to convince Nee and Mo to help them. With Jevin, he was the one to talk him down to get the antidote. Almost every single time Wenda hurts him or his friends, Gray forgives her by the next episode. Both the Rainbow Episode and the Ketchup episodes were the closest things to him getting an actual villain arc, but I wanna see an episode where he just crashes out and WILLINGLY starts hurting the others because he’s so fed up of being both the victim and solver of almost every conflict.

Also Fun.Computer absolutely did him dirty but tbh? He kind of sucks towards all his creations (Wenda cause y’know, she theoretically had to keep being positive no matter what and also with Har, Mo, and Nee where he literally locked them instead of like?? Looking after them?? Making sure they didn’t actually hurt anyone?? Instead of putting them in an eternity long coma??? Hell, I’d even argue that in Black’s case he was literally created as a means to an end, another piece to the already flawed balance system whether he liked it or not. If you take the “abandoned at birth” episode in mind, I believe that Mr.FunComputer created the hat that corrupted Black since it just spawned out of nowhere.)

However, out of all these examples, Gray is the only one who hasn’t willingly hurt anyone yet which is even more cruel because I’d argue he is constantly targeted by the narrative compared to the others even though he doesn’t resort to violence in most cases.

Overall, I’d fully support Gray getting a villain arc. As a small treat you know? He should go ape shit next episode. Blow up the computer god along with everyone else, Gray. You deserve it.

YA KNOW WHAT REALLY PISSES ME OFF ABT THE GAMETOONS SPRUNKIVERSE??

Gray has been so SEVERELY AND CONSISTENTLY wronged throughout the series, MULTIPLE TIMES EVER SINCE THE FIRST EPISODE,

First by Owak, Garnold, and Funbot who all bully the hell outta him, then Black on COUNTLESS occasions, then Wenda who tries first to kidnap his friends, then accidentally stabs him, then uses voodoo dolls to make his life HELL, AND THEN by LILY who quite literally harasses him for a whole FUCKING EPISODE, and honestly? Even by Mr. Fun Computer himself who created him with the SOLE PURPOSE to be miserable,

And not ONCE does this poor man EVER, EVER get a PROPER APOLOGY for the fucking HELL that he has been put through. I'm SHOCKED Gray hasn't had a villain arc yet cause honestly he has every fuckin reason to do so

@killseveryones @smallblogforstuff @wolftails-funkin-arts tumblr mooties is this a hot take or naw tbh.............

[kira-light0-but-i-reblog-stuff]

The Colgate Comedy Hour - May 31, 1953

Part 1 / 2

[genderqueerdykes]

https://www.tumblr.com/transmascsmatter/773428386465972224/immediately-coming-at-a-trans-masc-with-hostility?source=share

JFC they say this person didn't care about trans women as if them saying women didn't INCLUDE trans women

goddamn. i normally don't reblog posts of that nature but i actually went ahead and did so because it's a live example of transmasc erasure & transandrophobia. i am just so sick of people jumping to silence a transmasc or trans man the second they talk about their issues. i am so tired of the instant derailing of posts when it comes to transmasc issues. and it happens so often i feel like i need to just start showing people. like a lot of stuff on this site sucks but i feel like people need to SEE how bad this is getting, and not just listen to my words without proof.

it's really telling when people see the word "women" and still somehow go "BUT WHAT ABOUT TRANS WOMEN???" like yeah. we are included in women. we don't have to specify "trans women" Every Single Time we're talking about women. we are included in that. we are women. no shit. i don't know why people think trans women are so self centered that we have to see the phrase "Trans Women" to know you're including US when you mention women, but we're not like that. like we do not need you to bend over backwards to remind us of how much you want to look like you support us. we know we're included in women. we. are. women. you don't have to specify "trans women" if we are talking about all women. we understand we're a part of that group.

i'm sorry if this ask and the post are a little different than what i normally post but i just want people to see this behavior. i don't want anyone to get harassed. do NOT bother anyone involved in this post. i want to make it very clear that i never want anyone to bug someone whom i am providing criticism. people need to learn from their mistakes in order to grow. but people also have to accept that they are MAKING a mistake, and i hope that i can help some people understand that this behavior genuinely hurts people.

we're participating in transmasculine erasure in real time when we shut up trans men and mascs for the sake of going "BUT WHAT ABOUT TRANS WOMEN?????" the funny thing about that, is you can write your own post. it's free and takes the same amount of effort as typing up a comment on a post that isn't about you. we HAVE to learn to understand when things ARE and AREN'T about us. we have to stop inserting our asses into conversations that they simply just do not belong to. people have to learn to actually get along instead of talking over each other. enough of this behavior. enough.

it is transmasculine erasure when you immediately force a transmasc or trans man to talk about trans women instead. i don't care if you don't agree with me. it's just the truth.

[skunkes]

if life is categorized by Before Loss and After Loss then I exist in the before but with a countdown to the after. and the countdown is always always present and debilitating. the loss will be debilitating too but i cant help myself. i will always suffer twice.

[lisxdumbr]

The whole "if a person is mad at you it's their responsibility to tell you" thing just made me realize how fucked my situation is. Like just. woah