#I'm. I'm feeling hopeful about the future.

[bodyswapmischief]

The Height of Holiday Magic: A Very Meyers Christmas

@thegreatstoryteller , it's my time to return the favor. Another annual body swap and another story I hope you enjoy!

Henry gripped the steering wheel tightly as the snow-covered road stretched endlessly ahead. The rhythmic hum of the car's engine was soothing, a stark contrast to the churning thoughts in his head. He was glad to be heading home after months of college. Winter break meant cozy evenings, his mom’s famous hot cocoa, and the familiar scent of pine and firewood filling the house.

But beneath the excitement, there was a nagging weight pressing on his chest. It always surfaced when he thought of his dad. Locke was everything Henry wasn’t. Compared to Henry’s 5’6" thin and frail frame. Locke was 6'4 and strong, with a natural confidence that drew people to him. Growing up, Henry had idolized his father. But as years passed, admiration turned into something more complicated.  

He glanced at his hands on the wheel. Dainty hands that were connected to an equally soft body. “Why couldn’t I have gotten his genes instead of Mom’s?” he sighed, his voice filled with quiet frustration. The thought made him clench his jaw. His mother, kind and petite, had passed down her smaller frame to him. He was constantly reminded of it every time he literally looked up at his father. “What’s wrong with me?” he whispered.  

Outside, the snowflakes danced in the wind, oblivious to the turmoil in the car. Henry pulled into the driveway, the tires crunching softly over the fresh layer of snow. The sight of the house, its windows glowing warmly against the winter night, brought a flicker of comfort. He parked the car and sat for a moment, staring at the front door. Inside were his parents, eager to see him. His mother’s hugs always felt like safety, but his father… 

He grabbed his duffel bag, stepped out into the icy air, and made his way to the door. Before he could knock, it swung open, and his mother’s beaming face greeted him.  “Henry!” she exclaimed, pulling him into a tight hug. Her petite frame barely came up to his chest, but her embrace was as strong as ever.  “Hi, Mom,” he said, a smile tugging at his lips. “Come in, come in. You’ll freeze out here!” she said, ushering him inside.  

The familiar warmth of home wrapped around him, the scent of baked goods and pine filling his senses. Locke appeared in the hallway, his imposing frame nearly filling the doorway.  “There’s my boy,” Locke said with a grin, his voice deep and hearty. He clapped a hand on Henry’s shoulder, and though the gesture was light, it felt like a small reminder of the difference in their builds.  “Hey, Dad,” Henry replied, forcing his smile to stay in place.  

They settled into the living room, Henry sinking into the couch while his parents took their usual spots. His mother peppered him with questions about school, friends, and the drive home, her voice warm and comforting. Locke chimed in occasionally, asking about his grades and plans for the future.  

“Now that I'm settled in college, I was thinking of joining the gym and maybe a sports club..” Henry rushly added. Locke looked at his son and sighed, “Henry you do know I'm proud of you. You’re a smart guy. You should stick to that. The whole academic route.” Those words stung Henry. Even though Locke meant then to praise his son's natural talent in academia, all Henry could hear was that his dad would never be proud of him.

“I got a 3.8 GPA this semester,” Henry said, trying to sound proud.  “That’s great, son,” Locke said sincerely, nodding. “You’ve been working hard.”  But even as Locke’s words carried genuine pride, Henry couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing. There was a gap between them, one he didn’t know how to bridge. As a boy, Henry could recall his dad, hoping he would grow up to be a jock. But, no matter what, Henry showed an ineptitude for anything athletic. Puberty was the final nail on the coffin. He wanted to impress his dad, but it was like the universe made that dream impossible. 

Henry’s mother sensed the shift in his mood and quickly changed the subject to holiday plans, but the damage was done. Henry felt himself withdrawing, sinking deeper into the couch.  Locke watched his son quietly. He didn’t push further, in fear of making things worse. The conversation with his parents wound down, and Henry excused himself to head upstairs. The long drive had left him drained, and unpacking his things was enough to keep his mind occupied, at least for a while. Yet, as he folded clothes and placed books on the desk in his childhood bedroom, his thoughts lingered on the quiet tension he always felt when it came to his dad.  

After unpacking, Henry hadn’t realized how much time had passed. The muffled sound of voices and laughter drifted up from downstairs. Curious, he walked quietly to the staircase. His dad’s friends had come over, as they often did for their usual drink nights. Peeking, as he sat on the top step, Henry saw his dad seated in the living room with three other men. They spoke loud, half-empty beers in hand, their banter filled with the easy familiarity of lifelong friendships.  

“Ah, it’s good to have the kids back, huh?” one of the men said, grinning.  “Yeah,” another chimed in. “All our boys are home. You know what we should do? Get them together for some basketball. Just like the old days.”  The group erupted in laughter, but then one of them nudged Locke. “Well, except for your kid, Locke. Henry’s not exactly varsity material, is he?” The words were a gut punch, but Henry stayed frozen in place, listening.  

“Remember that one time we tried to play three-on-three, and Henry tripped over his own feet?” Another added with a chuckle. “Poor kid.”  Henry’s chest tightened as the laughter rang out. He felt rooted to the spot, caught between anger and humiliation.  Locke held up a hand, his laughter fading. “Hey,” he said firmly, his tone quiet but resolute. “My son might not be a jock, but he’s smart. Real smart. And that means more to me than any game ever could.”  

The room fell silent for a moment, the men shifting awkwardly in their seats. Locke’s expression was unreadable, but there was a hint of frustration in his eyes.  Henry swallowed hard and retreated quietly to his room. His father’s words should have been comforting, but all he could focus on was the hurt in Locke’s face when he said them.  

Henry sat on the edge of his bed, his mind replaying the scene downstairs. The laughter, the casual mockery, and even his father’s defense of him. It all twisted inside him. He stared at his reflection in the small mirror on his wall. His scrawny frame mocked him as much as the voices of his dad’s friends.  He clenched his fists, frustration boiling over. “Why can’t I just be different?” he muttered, his voice thick with emotion. “Why can’t I make him proud?”  

The thought bubbled up before he could stop it, slipping from his lips like a whispered prayer. “I wish I had the kind of body that would make anyone proud… the kind of body Dad could brag about.”  For a moment, nothing happened. The room was quiet except for the faint sound of the wind outside. Henry sighed, shaking his head at his own foolishness. In a sense of a familiar defeat, he went to sleep off his frustration. But the night would not play out like so many times before. The air in the room seemed to shimmer faintly as though responding to his words. A gift from an unseen force was being gifted. 

---------------------------------------------------

Henry woke with a stiff haze.. As he moved, he noticed an unfamiliar sensation of weight and strength in his limbs. The bed beneath him felt larger, firmer than he was used to, and the light streaming through the window hit walls he didn’t recognize. Confused, he sat up, his movements sluggish as though his body didn’t quite respond the way it should. He blinked, taking in his surroundings. He seemed to be in a hotel room and a nice one at that. 

“What…?” he muttered, his voice deeper, resonating in his chest.  A startle that made him grab his own throat. His hands felt strong, and his throat was thicker. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, and as his feet hit the floor, sooner then they should. He realized they were larger, much larger. His hands, too, were broad and calloused, veins prominent across their surface.  

Heart pounding, he stumbled to the full-length mirror across the room. What stared back at him wasn’t his reflection. Instead, a towering, shirtless, muscular figure filled the 7’1" frame. Short blond hair, piercing eyes, and a physique that radiated athleticism, it was the body of Meyers Leonard, the professional basketball player. Henry’s breath caught in his throat as he raised his hands, watching the reflection do the same. He flexed experimentally, the muscles in his arms rippling with ease.  

“This… this can’t be real,” he whispered, his voice still unfamiliar.  Henry took a step back from the mirror, still reeling from the sight of his reflection. His hands trembled as he pressed them against his chest, feeling the solid wall of muscle beneath his fingertips. His pecs, broad and defined, moved subtly with even the smallest shift in his posture. He trailed his hands down to his abdomen, marveling at the ridged firmness of his abs.  

“Holy…,” he breathed, unable to finish the sentence.  He flexed his biceps experimentally, watching them swell. His fingers traced the veins that ran like rivers across his forearms, his skin taut over powerful muscles.  The height was another shock. He turned and walked to the door, each step heavy yet controlled. The ceiling felt closer, the furniture smaller. His perspective on the world had shifted dramatically. 

Standing near the bed, he glanced down at his legs. They were tree trunks of muscle, powerful and sturdy. The sheer size of them was astonishing. He bent down to touch his calves before sitting back on the edge of the bed.  He leaned forward, pulling one foot onto his knee. His jaw dropped.  

“Look at these things,” he muttered, holding his foot up for inspection. The size dwarfed anything he’d ever imagined. His feet were massive, the kind that filled shoes designed for giants. He set his foot down and spread his legs, resting his hands on his knees. His thighs were so large, making the usual posture of sitting feel entirely different.  

Henry’s heart raced as he tried to process it all. This body wasn’t just strong; it was a machine engineered for athleticism. He could feel the power in every movement, the effortless grace and control that came with it.  “This is insane,” he whispered. 

Henry’s startled reflection still stared back at him when his phone buzzed on the nightstand. He turned to grab it, fumbling slightly with the device in his massive hands.

The screen lit up with a message:

Coach Johnson: Don’t be late. Practice starts at 11. Big game tonight. Let’s show them what you’re made of.

His stomach dropped. A game? Tonight? “Oh, no,” he muttered, pacing the room. “I can barely dribble a ball, let alone play in a professional game!” Panic surged through him as the implications hit. If this was really Meyers Leonard’s life, any misstep could cost him his career. Henry felt the weight of the responsibility pressing down on him. But, he couldn’t just stay in the room and do nothing. “Okay, okay. Start small,” he told himself, trying to calm his racing thoughts. “Shower. Get cleaned up. Maybe I’ll figure out what to do after that.”

He made his way to the lavish hotel bathroom. The shower was enormous, with a rainfall showerhead and plenty of room for someone of Meyers’ stature. A shower that would have dwarfed his original body. As the warm water cascaded over him, washing away his anxiety bit by bit, something strange began to happen. Echos of familiarity crept into his mind. With eyes closed, he reached for the soap instinctively. It was as if he had already known the layout of the shower from a previous use. “Wait.” He questioned. His tested this feeling. His mind was thinking of what he'd wear when he got out. To his surprise, memories of clothes he packed entered his mind. 

Stepping out of the shower and drying himself,  Henry felt a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, he could figure this out. He dressed quickly, slipping into a classic white T-shirt and black dock shorts that felt strange yet familiar. He couldn’t help but feel pleased at how perfect the fit was. Each piece fitted perfectly, tailored to accommodate Meyers’ broad shoulders and long limbs. Without thought, he found the keys to Meyers’ car on the dresser.  

“This is all mine now,” he murmured, glancing at a mirror before heading out.It was all part of Meyers Leonard’s life, and now, somehow, his. He headed to the parking structure, his jaw dropping at the sight of the car parked where his memories told him he parked. A sleek, luxury SUV gleamed under the overhead lights, its chrome accents catching his eye. “Wow,” Henry whispered, running a hand over the smooth surface before climbing in.  The interior was just as impressive; leather seats, advanced tech displays, and a faint scent of cologne mixed with the smell of the new car.

As he adjusted the seat, he realized he couldn’t quite make himself comfortable. “Man, even this is a tight fit,” he muttered, shifting awkwardly to accommodate his long legs and broader shoulders. The steering wheel felt smaller in his hands, and he had to angle his knees just right to fit under the dash. Despite the snug space, the car started smoothly, its engine purring with power. As Henry pulled out of the garage, a sense of familiarity settled over him again. He hadn’t seen the practice facility before, yet he knew exactly where to go.  

He navigated the streets with ease, as though the route had been etched into his memory. The city around him felt both foreign and strangely recognizable, adding to the surrealness of the situation. “This is insane,” he said aloud, the deep resonance of Meyers’ voice still catching him off guard. By the time he pulled into the facility’s parking lot, Henry’s nerves were back. The sprawling building loomed ahead, and he knew he was about to face something completely out of his depth.  

Henry stepped out of the car, his nerves flaring as he saw a group of tall, athletic men gathered near the entrance. His coach and teammates were already there, chatting and stretching, their voices echoing in the cool morning air. One of them glanced his way. “About time, Leonard,” the man called out, grinning. Henry raised a hand awkwardly in response, forcing a casual smile. His heart pounded in his chest as he hurried inside. He had no idea what these people expected from him. He barely knew how to hold a basketball, let alone keep up with professionals.  

Inside the locker room, he found his assigned locker. His practice clothes were neatly folded, waiting for him. Henry fumbled a bit, pulling on the oversized jersey and shorts that fit his massive frame perfectly. The shoes were enormous, yet they slid on with ease, feeling like an extension of his body. “Alright, here goes nothing,” he muttered, stepping out of the locker room.  The gym was massive, the polished floor gleaming under the bright lights. The other players were already warming up, dribbling, shooting, and passing with an ease that made Henry’s stomach churn. He grabbed a ball from the rack and hesitated.  

As he dribbled experimentally, something happened. His hands moved instinctively, controlling the ball with precision. His feet adjusted to the rhythm, and his body shifted effortlessly into a stance that felt natural, even though it shouldn’t have been. “Leonard! Let’s go!” Coach Johnson barked, motioning for him to join a drill. Henry jogged onto the court, his steps fluid and confident despite his nerves. The drill started, and he found himself weaving through cones, making passes, and sinking shots with astonishing accuracy.  

His body moved on its own, each motion guided by muscle memory. He was faster, stronger, and more coordinated than he had ever imagined. As the practice continued, he found himself keeping and more. He was a part of the team. He executed plays with ease, his passes crisp and precise, his shots smooth. Henry grinned, breathing hard but exhilarated. The sheer athleticism of this body, the power and control. It was intoxicating. For the first time, he felt like he belonged.

Practice wrapped up with a final whistle, and Henry found himself drenched in sweat but riding a wave of confidence he hadn’t felt in years. He began to shower and change back into his clothes. And, for a moment, he forgot the strangeness of his situation. He wasn’t Henry anymore. He was Meyers Leonard, an athlete at the top of his game.

“Yo, Leonard!” one of the players called, slapping him on the back. “We’re hitting up Joey’s for lunch. You in?” Henry hesitated for a fraction of a second, then nodded. “Yeah, sure!” he said, trying to sound as casual as possible. The group headed out to a local sports bar, laughing and joking as they piled into their cars. Henry followed. Noting how natural he belong with these other tall men. These were the kind of guys who would’ve made him feel invisible back in his old life. Now, he was one of them. 

At the bar, they claimed a large booth, ordering burgers, wings, and beers. Henry found himself laughing along with their stories, his deep voice blending seamlessly into the conversation. “Man, I hate these December games,” one of the guys grumbled, shaking his head. “Working this close to Christmas sucks.” 

“Tell me about it,” another chimed in. “At least we get a couple of days off after tonight. You heading home for the holiday, Leonard?” Henry froze for a split second, his heart skipping a beat. “Uh, yeah,” he said, keeping his tone even. “I’ve got a flight tomorrow morning. Gonna rush back to see the family.” The table nodded in approval, and someone added, “Good for you, man. Your wife must be thrilled. And the kid, how are they doing?”

Henry forced a smile, feeling a bead of sweat form on his temple. He hadn’t even thought about Meyers’ family until now. “Oh, uh… they’re great,” he said, scrambling internally for details. “Really looking forward to seeing them.” Thankfully, the conversation moved on quickly, and Henry relaxed. As they joked and shared stories, flashes of Meyers’ life surfaced in his mind again. He remembered a ticket confirmation, Meyers had indeed booked a flight home for tomorrow.

Henry left the bar with his teammates, his laughter and easy banter masking the swirl of emotions within him. The day had been a whirlwind of experiences, and as the game approached, he felt a mix of excitement and nerves. Back at the arena, Henry threw himself into Meyers’ pregame routine. He followed the warm-up drills with precision, leaned into the stretches, and even mirrored some of his teammates’ rituals. The muscle memory guided him effortlessly, and yet, a part of him couldn’t shake how surreal it all felt.

As he sat in the locker room before the game, Henry took a deep breath, trying to ground himself. The energy around him was electric, teammates hyping each other up, coaches delivering final strategies, and the hum of the crowd just outside. But for Henry, the moment felt still. He pulled out Meyers’ phone, thumbing through the gallery. Photos of Meyers’ wife, her warm smile lighting up the frame. Pictures of a baby boy  followed.

“This is my life now,” Henry whispered to himself, running a hand through his hair. He couldn’t believe the sheer luck that had fallen on him. A loving family, a thriving career, a body built for greatness. But then, his thoughts turned to his own family. His real family. The ones who wouldn’t recognize him now, who had no idea what had happened to him. Did he still exist to them? Was the real Meyers in his body. The idea made his stomach churn. Was Meyers experiencing the same confusion and disorientation that Henry had? Dealing with the insecurities and struggles Henry had left behind?

Henry shook his head, trying to focus. “One step at a time,” he muttered, gripping the phone tightly. He needed to get through the game tonight. Everything else would have to wait. The roar of the crowd was deafening as Henry stepped onto the court. The bright lights, the energy in the air, it was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. His nerves had melted away the moment the game began, replaced by a rush of adrenaline and focus. He moved with the flow of the game, his body responding instinctively. Every pass, every jump, every sprint felt natural, like he’d been doing this his entire life, at least, Meyers had.

The game was intense, a back-and-forth battle that kept everyone on edge. Henry found himself thriving in the competition, feeding off the energy of his teammates and the crowd. He loved the camaraderie, the unspoken communication on the court, the shared goal of victory. “Leonard!” a teammate shouted, and Henry snapped to attention, catching a pass and immediately spotting an opening. Without hesitation, he made a crisp, perfectly timed pass to the team’s star player. The crowd held its breath as the ball soared through the air. The player caught it, squared up, and shot just as the buzzer sounded. The ball sailed cleanly through the hoop.

Swish.

The stadium erupted in cheers. Henry stood frozen for a moment, his heart pounding as he processed what had just happened. They’d won. His teammates swarmed the court. He was wrapped into the celebration. In the locker room, the celebration continued. Music blasted, players danced and laughed, and Henry found himself caught up in the revelry. He leaned back against his locker, a grin spreading across his face as he watched his teammates. He loved this feeling, the teamwork, the exhilaration of victory, the shared triumph. It was everything he’d dreamed of but never thought he’d have.

As he toweled off and joined the others, someone handed him a drink, and they raised a toast to the night’s win. Henry clinked glasses with the team, laughing and savoring the moment. For a brief time, all the questions and doubts faded away. He wasn’t just pretending to be Meyers Leonard. He was Meyers Leonard. With the locker room celebration wound down, one of the players clapped Henry on the back and grinned. “Hey, Leonard, we’re hitting up Revolution to celebrate. You in?”

Henry hesitated, feeling a strange, instinctive pull of reluctance in his chest. It was as though Meyers’ body itself was signaling that this wasn’t something he’d normally do. Maybe Meyers was more of a straight-laced family man. But Henry shook off the hesitation. This was his life now, his body. And for once, he wasn’t going to hold back. “Yeah, I’m in,” he said with a grin, his deep voice cutting through the noise.

The team piled into cars, and soon Henry found himself stepping into a pulsating nightclub. The atmosphere hit him like a wave, the flashing lights, the pounding bass, the press of bodies moving to the rhythm. It was chaotic and exhilarating. He followed his teammates to a VIP section, where drinks were already waiting. Henry grabbed a beer and took a swig, letting the alcohol amplify the buzz of victory still thrumming through him.

As the night wore on, the vibe became electric. People recognized the players, cheering and congratulating them. For the first time, Henry was at the center of attention, not as an awkward, unnoticed college kid, but as a confident, admired athlete. Girls approached, smiling and flirting, their eyes wide with excitement. Henry couldn’t believe it. These women weren’t just talking to him; they were drawn to him.

The chaotic energy of the club, the high from the win, the drinks, it all mixed into a heady concoction. Before he knew it, a woman with striking eyes and a bright smile was leaning close, her hand resting on his chest. They exchanged a few playful words, though Henry couldn’t quite hear her over the music. Then it happened. She tilted her head, her lips brushing against his. It was tentative at first, but Henry leaned in, letting the moment take over. Their kiss deepened, the crowd around them fading into a blur of lights and sound.

For a fleeting moment, Henry’s mind raced. Was this what Meyers would do? What about his wife and kid? But he pushed the thoughts aside. Right now, he wasn’t worried about Meyers or his responsibilities. This was his night, his life, and he was claiming it.

Henry was fully immersed in the moment, his confidence swelling as he bantered and flirted with the women who kept gravitating toward him. For the first time in his life, he felt like the charismatic, confident center of attention. The girl he’d been kissing leaned in, laughing at something he said, and he flashed her an easy smile. The flashing lights and pounding music made the entire night feel like a surreal dream, one he wasn’t ready to wake up from.

But then a voice cut through the haze. “Yo, Leonard!” one of his teammates called out, making his way through the crowd. “What the hell are you doing, man?” Henry froze, turning to see two of his teammates approaching. One of them looked serious, his brow furrowed in disbelief, while the other was grinning, clearly amused. “You’ve got a wife, dude,” the serious one said, crossing his arms. “You forget about her or something?”

Henry opened his mouth, scrambling for an explanation, but the grinning teammate cut in. “Relax, man,” he said, clapping Henry on the shoulder. “Let him have some fun. This is what being a star is all about!” The serious one shook his head. “That’s not the Leonard I know. You’re always talking about how much you love your wife and kids, and now you’re out here acting like ...  this?”

Henry felt a wave of shame and panic rise in his chest. He hadn’t considered how his behavior might look to the people who actually knew Meyers. But then the grinning teammate chimed in again. “C’mon, it’s one night. Let the guy enjoy himself. Besides, it’s not like anyone’s taking this seriously, right?” Henry forced a laugh, trying to play it off. “Yeah, yeah, just blowing off some steam after the game. No big deal.”

The serious teammate didn’t look convinced, but he shrugged and turned back toward the bar. “Just… don’t do something you’ll regret, alright?” As the teammate walked away, the other one leaned in, still smirking. “You’re not usually like this, but honestly? Kinda refreshing. Feels like you’re finally loosening up. Keep it up, man.” Henry watched him leave, the girl at his side tugging at his arm, trying to pull him back into the moment. But his excitement was starting to wane. His teammates’ reactions had shaken him, reminding him that no matter how much fun he was having, this wasn’t really his life.

Henry gently pulled away from the girl, forcing a tight smile as he muttered something about needing a moment. He didn’t wait for her response. The swirling guilt in his chest was too heavy, too consuming, to stay in the noise and chaos of the club. Slipping past the throngs of people, he found his way outside. The cool night air hit his face, but it did little to calm the storm in his mind. He leaned against the wall, breathing deeply, his broad chest rising and falling as the weight of the evening bore down on him.

He wiped his face, only to realize his eyes were wet. Tears? He hadn’t even noticed. He turned away from the bouncer at the door, hiding his expression as he struggled to pull himself together. The memory of that kiss played over and over in his mind. He hadn’t thought twice about it at the time, but now it felt like a betrayal. Not just to Meyers’ wife, but to the life this man had built; a life Henry was intruding on.

“This isn’t fair,” he muttered, his voice barely audible over the muffled bass of the club. He had everything he’d ever wanted: strength, confidence, popularity, respect. The type of body that commanded attention, the life of a successful athlete. And yet, standing there under the cold streetlights, he felt hollow. This wasn’t his body. This wasn’t his life. It was Meyers’ life, carefully constructed and full of relationships and responsibilities Henry didn’t know how to handle.

His thoughts drifted to his family; his real family. His own connection that he would never have anymore being trapped in this body. He missed his dad, even though he’d spent most of his life feeling like he wasn’t good enough for him. He could almost hear Locke’s voice, offering some kind of sage advice, grounding him in a way no one else could. But what would Locke say now that Henry was living someone else’s life? Being selfish in that body? Stealing a life that wasn't his?

The thought of Meyers being trapped in his old, weak, awkward body twisted the guilt even further. What was he going through? Was he struggling to find a way back to everything he lost?  Everyone he loved and cared about. Henry clenched his fists, staring down at the hands that weren’t his. Large, powerful hands that could grip a basketball like it was nothing. These hands should feel like a gift, but right now, they felt like a curse. “Do I even deserve this?” he whispered. 

The tears came freely now, streaking down his face as he stood there, alone and uncertain. The life he’d always wanted was right in front of him, but it wasn’t his to live. And the unfairness of it all ... the sheer impossibility of finding a way to make this right threatened to crush him. Henry wiped his face and took a steadying breath. The guilt and confusion swirled within him, but he made a decision: he needed to leave. There was no point in staying here, pretending to enjoy the night. He flagged down a cab and gave the driver the address to Meyers’ hotel.

The ride was quiet, the streets gliding by as Henry leaned his head against the window, his mind racing. He thought about the flight tomorrow and about meeting Meyers’ family; his wife and kid. He knew now this wasn’t his life. It never would be. But if he was going to be stuck in this body, he owed it to Meyers to keep things intact. He had to live the life Meyers would have wanted.

When he got back to the hotel room, he took a moment to absorb the space. It was luxurious. He undressed. Sitting on the edge of the bed and staring at his reflection in the darkened window, the man looking back at him was everything he’d dreamed of being: tall, strong, confident. Yet, it all felt wrong. Kicking off his shoes, he stretched out on the bed, his body sinking into the plush mattress. He set an alarm on Meyers’ phone for the early morning flight and let his eyes drift closed.

As the exhaustion of the day caught up with him, he found himself whispering into the stillness of the room. “I just want to go back,” he said, his voice cracking. “I wish… I wish everything would go back and be perfect.” The words hung in the air, and for a moment, there was silence. Then, just as he drifted off, a faint, otherworldly sensation swept over him, like a ripple in the fabric of reality.

---------------------------------------------------

The next day, Henry stirred awake, blinking against the dim light filtering through his bedroom curtains. He yawned, stretching, and for a fleeting moment, everything felt normal. The familiar scent of his room, the creak of his old mattress, it was all unmistakably home.

A wave of relief washed over him. "I’m back." But as he shifted, something felt … different. His legs stuck out awkwardly over the edge of his bed, something that had never happened before. The covers felt tighter, almost constraining, as if they’d shrunk overnight. He looked down and saw his feet larger than he remembered, sticking out from beneath the blanket. “What the—?” he muttered, sitting up abruptly.

The movement felt strange, too. His body was heavier, stronger, and as he swung his legs over the side of the bed, his feet thudded against the floor with a weight that startled him. Henry looked down at his hands. They were bigger, calloused in a way they hadn’t been before. He ran them over his arms, his chest, and his stomach. Everything was thicker and stronger. His heart raced as he stood, his head brushing the ceiling fan in a way it never had before.

“What’s going on?” he whispered, his voice trembling. He stumbled to the mirror on his closet door, his larger feet making unfamiliar thuds against the wooden floor. When he saw his reflection, he froze. It was him, or at least, a version of him. His face was unmistakably his own, but his body… His body looked like it had been carved from stone, tall and muscular.. It was as if someone had taken his DNA and remixed it with an athlete’s.

“Is this… me?” he said aloud, his voice deeper and richer than it had been the day before. He turned, marveling at the size of his shoulders, the way his arms bulged as he moved. He lifted his shirt and saw abs that looked like they belonged in a fitness magazine. His once-oversized pajama pants were now clinging tightly to his legs, stretched to their limits. Despite the initial shock, a flicker of joy began to spark in his chest. He wasn’t Meyers Leonard anymore, but he wasn’t the old Henry either. Somehow, his wish had transformed him into a version of himself that seemed almost… perfect.

As Henry stood there, still grappling with the sight of his new body in the mirror, a knock sounded at his bedroom door. Before he could respond, his dad, Locke, stepped in with his usual confident stride. “Morning, kiddo,” Locke said, his tone warm and easy. He glanced around the room and then gestured at the bed. “Sorry about the setup. Your old bed was falling apart, and we couldn’t get a custom-sized one delivered in time for your visit. Guess it’s a little snug, huh?”

Henry froze. He stared at his dad, waiting for some kind of reaction, shock, confusion, anything about his now towering frame. But Locke didn’t even bat an eye. Instead, Locke walked up to him and gave him a hearty slap on the shoulder. “Hope you slept okay, though. You’re gonna need all the rest you can get before the big game.”

“The game?” Henry croaked, his deeper voice startling even himself. Locke grinned. “Yeah, the basketball game! The other dads and sons don’t stand a chance now that you’re playing. I mean, come on, my son, a soon-to-be pro? They’re in for a rude awakening.” Henry’s breath caught in his throat. He looked at his dad’s face, the lines of pride and excitement so vivid it almost didn’t feel real.

For a moment, Henry felt like he was going to break down. He blinked rapidly, trying to keep his emotions in check. This was what he’d always wanted. Not just his dad’s approval, but to feel like he deserved it. To feel proud of himself in return. “You okay, son?” Locke asked, his tone softening. Henry nodded quickly, clearing his throat. “Yeah, Dad. Just… thinking about the game.”

Locke grinned again and pointed toward the closet. “Good. You’ve got your stuff ready, right? Let’s show them what we’re made of.” As Locke turned to leave, Henry couldn’t help but marvel at the surrealness of the moment. Here he was, taller than his dad, stronger, and finally feeling like he belonged.

Henry watched as his dad left the room, his heavy footsteps fading down the hall. Once the coast was clear, he grabbed his clothes and headed to the bathroom. He needed time to himself, to process everything. As he stepped into the bathroom, he couldn’t help but glance at the mirror again. His reflection drew his full attention. The tall, muscular figure staring back at him still felt surreal, but the more he looked, the more he felt a rush of pride and excitement.

He ran his hands over his broad shoulders, flexed his powerful arms, and twisted to admire the sculpted definition of his back. His chest rose and fell with each deep breath, and even the way his abs tightened when he moved made him grin. “This is me now,” he whispered, his voice carrying a note of awe.

Henry stood there for a moment, taking it all in. He thought about Meyers, the man whose life he’d stepped into for a brief, chaotic day. A man with a family, a career, and a reputation Henry could have easily destroyed. But he hadn’t. The temptation had been there, but so had the guilt. 

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted something strange on the counter. A small card, simple and plain, with elegant handwriting on the front: To Henry. He picked it up, curiosity prickling his skin, and opened it. The message inside made his heart skip:

"Henry,

You were given the opportunity to take what you wanted most. You could have claimed Meyers’ life and left him with nothing. But even when you stumbled, your remorse showed your true character. You’re a good person, Henry. And you’ve earned this second chance to become the man you always dreamed of being.

Merry Christmas,

Santa Claus"

Henry stared at the card, his emotions swirling with gratitude, relief, and a sense of validation he hadn’t known he needed. He looked back at his reflection in the mirror and saw himself smiling, a genuine, confident smile. For the first time, he was proud of himself.

Folding the card carefully, he tucked it into his pocket. As he finished getting ready, his mind raced with plans for the future. He would make the most of this second chance, and maybe one day, if the opportunity arose, he’d find Meyers and thank him in person.

For now, though, he had a game to play. A game where he could show his dad and himself what he was truly capable of. With a deep breath and a renewed sense of purpose, Henry headed downstairs to join his father, ready to step into his new life.

[the-astral-express-archive]

Hey guys, I'm back! My mom's surgery went well and she was discharged last night thanks to her super quick recovery speed. I've received lots of encouraging messages here in the meantime, so thank you so so much everyone! Your kind words really meant a lot to us. There were also some resource-related asks but I'll reply to them later tomorrow after I'm done catching up with all the new stuff to post, sorry!

And lastly, this is just me being sentimental and kinda out of place, but I hope everyone will always treasure the time you have with all your close ones, be it your family members, your friends, someone you're in a relationship with, or even your pets. If you don't have one, I hope you can try to appreciate anyone or anything you feel the most comfortable being with. We humans can never be certain about the future, so I hope we can all do something that we won't have to regret when looking back.

Merry Christmas, everyone!

[purerae]

— DUPLEXITY;;

fem!reader x coworker!yanderes

— who knew attempting to bond with your co workers would lead to a fucked up love triangle?

prologue; quit your job! If dying was an option right now, Y/N would take it with a gleeful smile.

Sprinting through the woods, her ears ringing, she slams her grimy, broken hand against her head over and over. Her knees, bruised to a swollen pulp of purple, threaten to buckle beneath her. A deep, unprotected gash dressed painfully across her back, its edges rotting, every movement tearing at the poorly dressed wound.

Ignoring the piercing whine in her ears, her heart froze at the sound of shuffling drawing closer. Her legs wobbled, threatening to give out, but the surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins kept her moving forward. An ear striking screech bursts from the girl’s throat, desperate to catch the attention of any passing drivers or hikers.

How could she be so foolish? It’s four in the morning, and she’s in the middle of nowhere, with two freaks relentlessly chasing her.

Her scream was a terrible mistake. It brought her no closer to freedom instead only closer to her pursuers. Their shouts echo behind her, filled with words she can’t—and doesn’t want to comprehend.

Pleas, threats, and bursts of anger escape from their mouths but the only thing that Y/N had her mind on was getting her brother and leaving this shithole. Y/N ran and ran, but to her dismay and an almost comical cruel sense of bad luck , Her vision was slammed with a wall ruined with graffiti that was now taunting her from her inescapable future. Her breathing slows as she stumbled back, desperately praying for anything that could save her. Surely they weren't close, she put in all this effort, they cannot be close! With trembling caution, she moved backward, her steps deliberate and silent. She avoided every brittle branch and insect littering the forest floor, straining to make as little noise as possible. Her back pressed into something soft yet unyielding, carrying the earthy scent of firewood mixed with the sharp tang of blood that she’ll always loathe.  Y/N’s breath hitched, frozen in her chest as the sound of heavy breathing enveloped her ears from just behind.

‘Fuck.'

“You can’t run from us. It’s two against one, cutie.”

Even with her back turned, she could picture his smug, shit-eating smirk. A chill ran down her spine as his arms snaked around her waist, pulling her closer, trapping her. God, she wished she had a bat so she could beat him till he was a lifeless piece of flesh that she could point and laugh at. Too bad that would never be possible, even if she had a weapon to begin with. Deep down, Y/N knew there was no escaping this. But with every ounce of strength her battered body could summon, she let out the loudest scream she could muster; a semblance of hope in her body that somebody could save her. It tore through the cold night air before everything turned black. The last thing she heard was another man's footsteps approaching them, and two voices she made an oath to never hear, conversing. All she wanted was a fucking pay raise.

-

-

- Y/N buttoned her blouse with a giddy smile, rushing around her room in search of the shoes she’d bought just for this day. "I can't believe I got the job! I'm so excited, this still feels so surreal."  she exclaimed, her voice bubbling with enthusiasm as she grabbed her phone, waiting for her friend’s response. "Girl, I'm happy for you!” her friend shouted over the line, her voice barely cutting through the loud music and chatter in the background. “Just work hard, and you’ll be promoted to detective in no time! My little Sherlock Holmes~” Y/N scoffs out a laugh before she shakes her head at the chaos on the other end. Normally, she’d lecture her friend about hosting a party at seven in the morning, but today, she was too nervous and way too excited about her first day to care. "Ahaha, Yeah  I don't know about that... I'm still in shock that I got the job to be the assistant, let alone be the main thing. I just hope the person in charge of me is nice." The E/C-eyed girl replied looking at the ceiling , nervously biting her nails whilst walking back and forth in her room.

"Don't stress about it! I'm sure they'll be nice, babes. And you should ju-" Y/N’s friend was abruptly cut off by a guy shouting in the background, his voice carrying over the music: “Ayra! Get back to the party already!” "Hold on a sec Noel! Im talking to Y/N" she yells back with an obvious scowl on her face… Well, Y/N was almost positive that she displayed one based on the tone of her voice. "It's fine! You go do your shit, I gotta’ finish getting ready." "Okay Okay, message me after your shift ends. I wanna know everything~!" The bubbly girl says as she mimics a kiss sound. Despite Ayra not being able to see Y/N, she smiles with a soft gaze at the phone before hanging up. Staring into the mirror, she carefully assessed her outfit. A sleek black blouse layered over a white undershirt paired perfectly with a matching black pencil skirt. Light makeup enhanced her features, and her neatly styled hair framed her face just right. She smoothed her clothes with her hands, beaming widely as she twirled in front of the mirror. Y/N gathered all her essentials, carefully packing them into her bag before stepping out of her apartment. She locked the door with a quick twist of the key, then paused to double-check it twice…just to be sure; it was a habit she had done ever since she lived in her parents home. 

Stepping into the elevator, she pressed the button for the ground floor. Knowing the ride would take a while, she lived on the second-highest floor, after all, she pulled out her phone to check the time. It was 7:15 a.m. Perfect. With the bus journey to the department taking only 30 minutes, she was right on schedule (which was always a struggle for her.) A grin spread across her face as she opened her email app and tapped on the message from the 'Warrens Department.' Her heart fluttered nervously as she re-read the letter, scanning each line to ensure she hadn’t missed anything important. As she scrolled to the bottom, her brows furrowed. There, tucked away, was a link she hadn’t noticed before.

'Shit I must've missed this' She thought with worry before quickly clicking the link, silently thanking her instincts for prompting her to double-check the message. The link was a profile of the detective that she would be working with. Looking at the picture, she notices that he was a very conventionally attractive male. The formally dressed girl squints her eyes before assessing the man that her eyes laid upon.

Xavier Allette, it read. Twenty-five years old, with five years of experience as a detective.

‘Holy shit, he became a detective at 20? I was still in university then.’ Y/N’s thoughts wandered briefly as she reminisced about her own journey, a flicker of envy stirring as she compared herself to her boss.

Letting out a breath of relief that she didn't know she had; The assistant was expecting an old cruel man as her boss, but to her luck, it was someone of a similar age to her. And, as a bonus, he wasn’t bad to look at either.

Y/N knew better than to judge someone based on their appearance, but as her cheeks warmed, she couldn’t help but blush at the handsome face staring back at her from the screen. A straight pale face, with a clean-shaven look. His hair was a wavy deep black, tussled formally. Eyes sharp and matched with his extremely dark hair. Y/N couldn’t help but notice the absence of a glint or any sign of life in his pupils. ‘I’m overthinking it,’ she told herself. ‘He’s just posing for the picture’. It had to be her psychology degree kicking in, making her analyze every feature of his face like a subject in a case study. Xavier’s nose was strikingly defined, and his lips were full, holding a slightly warm tint that gave his serious expression a subtle softness. Though he was wearing a suit, anyone could tell the detective worked out as his jaw was sharp and his shoulders were broad. It was clear that he took good care of himself.

The only other information displayed on his profile was a list of the cases he had worked on and details about his educational background. 'Maketa Academy?!' That was the most prestigious high school that Y/N had ever heard of. You could either get in with a scholarship or a lot of money. Unfortunately for her, she had been neither crazy smart nor crazy rich, so attending a place like that had never been an option. Y/N couldn’t tell whether Xavier had gotten in through wealth or intellect, but either way, it was impressive. Her train of thought abruptly halted as the elevator chimed, signaling her arrival on the first floor.

Turning off her phone, She exits the building before walking a short distance to the bus so she could arrive at the destination where she was going to be working.

'Please be nice to me, Warrens Department.'

-

-

-

Y/N rushed out of the bus, the clock read 8:00 am. The bus kept on delaying because of the traffic that the driver faced. The 15 minutes that she was hoping she had left to spare, disappeared all because of not getting a driver's licence! Cursing at herself, she ran to the building that was two minutes away. She could get there in ten seconds, her stubbornness is saving her life today.

The girl stared in awe at the building for a second. It was massive and incredibly modern. A large sign labelled Warrens Department was placed right in the middle of the building. Shaking her head, she scans the key card that came into the mail a week ago and fixes any loose hairs before walking into the building.

8:01 am, Already a minute late, though not much of a difference, she didn't want to disappoint her boss on the first day. Power walking to the reception she sighs shyly before speaking up. "Hi!" Her voice cracks.

'Oh my god, first I'm late, now my voice cracks, I should just quit my job and leave this e-' "Hello! Who’re  you? I've never seen you before?" The ginger girl behind the desk questioned loudly. Her light southern accent peeked through. The red-haired was incredibly short, her face caked with pink-themed makeup matching her formal pink outfit. Y/N thought the receptionist was cute and seemed nice too! If she wasn't too busy stressing about being late, she'd love to be her friend. "I'm the detective's new assistant— Xaviers Allette's assistant." Y/N rambles, hands shaking with nerves.

"Y/N L/N?" The receptionist questioned with eyebrows raised, Y/N nods quickly and shows her key card to the lady. "I'm Abigail!" her smile drops, "Also, you should probably head over to his office quickly, Mr Allette hates tardiness.. a lot." It was now Y/N's turn for her face to drop, she mumbles a quick thank you before running off.She stops in her tracks as she realised her stupid mistake. "Hey Abigail, what's his room number?" Y/N spoke rushing back to the desk. Reaching halfway, the red-haired girl puts her hand out, ordering her to stop running back. "It's on the second floor, room 11, hurry!" She yells, shaking her hand. The late assistant puts a thumbs up as a way of saying thank you before completely ignoring the elevator and rushing up the stairs. Turning left she finds the room that is the lead detective. On the door, a silver plate is shown with  'Room 11' and 'Xavier Allette' engraved onto them in a fancy font.. It was clear that his room was the biggest on the floor.

Wiping the sweat off her hands and re-checking herself on the reflection of the plate, she checks the time. 

8:05 am.

Y/N knocks on her boss's door. The door opens automatically, she notices the man that was just on her screen almost an hour ago, sitting down with his eyes furrowed and lips pulled into a frown.  His eyes were fixated on his computer screen, fist propped against his chin. The assistant looks around while patiently waiting for him to say something.

20 seconds passed and all that she could hear were the sounds of him typing. the h/c hair-coloured girl clears her throat.

"Good morning, sir. My name is Y/N L/N, and Im p-"

"You're late." A deep, harsh voice cuts her off. 

A/N : New story :p !! i really like the plot for this one and will have a masterlist out for it soon!

[omegaversereloaded]

🎄🍬Merry christmas everyone!!🍬🎄✨️✨️

I hope whoever is reading this is feeling okay this holiday season. I'm changing up the format of this post because i want to do something a little different with this one.

If you follow me, most of you know Ibrahim @wolf-aid ! He's amazing and had been through so much unimaginable pain this past year in gaza. Yet he remains persistent and so kind.

Recently, he made a post to help raise money for a hospice providing food to displaced Palestinians, and it's done very well! People have been sharing and donating gladly, which is incredible, and we thank you all for doing so from the bottom of our hearts. However, Ibrahim has been raising money for his own family independently of that campaign and donations have been rather slow lately!

Ibrahim is a little brother to me, i love him dearly and i can't stop thinking about how much he is going through this holiday season. As you celebrate christmas, hanukkah, and new year's, please consider sending a bit of money my brother's way. Your support makes him very very happy and gives him much needed hope for the future.

Also, if you can't donate, can you reblog this with some kind words for Ibrahim? He has been getting harassed by a lot of awful people on this site, and it's been an additional strain on his mental health.

If you have a pet, bonus christmas points if you rb with a picture of them! 🐶🐱

Thank you all, and happy holidays!!! 🍬🎄✨️

[reborn-readings]

What does your mind need from you at this moment?

Tip Jar | Masterlist TBA

Hello everyone! This is gonna be my first Pick a Pile, I'm so excited! I hope it brings you joy and healing 💜

This is a group reading, so take what resonates and leave the rest. Don't force anything if it does not fit. Remember that the future is not set in stone and that other potential paths exist depending on your movement through the course of time.

Pile 1 (Left)

Death | Rx Four of Cups | Eight of Coins - Ganesha | Ace of Wands | Ten of Autumn | Cycles | Metamorphosis | Culmination – Completion and Renewal

Pile 1, you are spiraling through a lopsided sequence of events right now. It feels like things are building, like trying to contain a windstorm completely out of our control. Change is happening, that much is for sure, but while change is life’s only constant, there are moments that make you ask “Is all this really necessary? Can’t we slow down a bit?” The answer is no, you can’t—the universe is so eager to put new opportunities in your hands that they feel like hurled curses. 

In this chaos, what your mind needs is not a sense of relief or control, but the assurance that you are not powerless in the face of it. Life is giving you a wave—are you going to let it roll over you and send you careening head over heels, or are you going to ride it? Change is a good thing—we often forget that in order to build upon our foundations, we must change and grow. You are a caterpillar ready to weave your cocoon, and only you know the potential you have. Who knows what you’ll emerge as? 

Your mind asks you to consider an opportunity that comes to you and to not guilt yourself for rejecting what you know is not helpful. Follow your intuition on that; don’t close every door that opens, even if it opened by the wind knocking it down. Consistent work will get you where you’re going. Fall back on your previous experience and build on it to bring it to fruition. There is an upcoming end to a material concern or success in a material goal, and it will bring opportunity for a new object of passion with it. You will create something wonderful out of this chaos—I feel the recognition as something making your chest feel full. The chaos may not subside, but with a new understanding of it, you will know how to harness and weather it. 

Other messages - Out of chaos comes creation. Change is beautiful. Satisfaction with financial savings. Bring your all to whatever projects you decide to take on. Having gathered what was needed. Inbox never empty. Kudos for a job well done. 

Symbols - Thick forests. Poured-out vessels. Circles. Insects or other bugs. Perches.

Pile 2 (Middle)

Two of Pentacles | Rx High Priestess | Ace of Wands – Ra and Kokopelli | Rx Hermit | Prince of Winter | Snowflake Obsidian | Dignity | Independence – Carving Your Own Path

Oh, Pile 2, I see the winter in you. Others might look at you and see the throttling of the edges of autumn and spring. You are more than that, but it becomes difficult to tell when everyone just wishes that winter would be over already. 

Perhaps you are someone young, or someone young in spirit. You have depended on others to help you make the right decisions, but when people tell you that they’ll help you make the right decisions, you often suspect that they want you to make whichever decision will be better for them. Masculine and feminine, withdrawn and social, intuitive or logical—these dualities have plagued you, proponents from each side calling for you to cast away the other. In particular, I see an overbearing masculine presence or ideal that interferes with your thoughts when you try to think about how to move forward. 

Your mind needs to be its own. The reality is, you are a lot bigger and stronger than the people around you. You have a commanding presence that’s a little intimidating, and thus, the people around you want to know that you’re on their side. You should feel honored! But at the end of the day, you can’t leave everyone satisfied, and besides, what’s the point if you yourself are never satisfied? 

I see you really benefiting from taking some time for yourself and your own pursuits. You have been wanting to study something or take a deeper look at something—your mind yearns to be enriched. It also yearns to use that information to take action. It wants you to have faith in yourself and your own decisions, and above all else, to finally make a decision. It may be daunting, but afterwards, you will be a sense of security and stability like never before. I have faith in you. Practice having faith in yourself 

Other messages - A strong foundation will keep you safe. Take pride in yourself. Take honor in your choices, achievements, and actions. Stay focused. Sudden or unexpected changes brought about by you. Head into the vault and stay for a bit. Have some fun in the snow. 

Symbols - Screen doors. Long tails. Something hanging from the ceiling? Searing cold and blistering hot at the same time. Roots in the air and branches in the ground.  Blue sparks/light.

Pile 3 (Right)

King of Swords | Rx Nine of Swords | Awakening of Wands – Eros | Rx Two of Pentacles | Prince of Spring | Howlite | Partnership | Miracle – Making a Difference

Pile 3, you are the master of the mind…aren’t you? Or is the mind a master of you? 

Keep on reading—it might seem unbearable to think that you do not have a cap on your emotions, your passions, your place in the world—but at this moment, your mind needs you to trust it. Think about it! When you’re using a computer or other piece of technology, you’re not the one going in and individually flipping each bit and byte to its correct position. It is the same with your mind—let it handle the secrets of itself, trust that it knows what to do to keep you being that same, wonderful you. 

Has Cupid’s arrow struck you? Do you find yourself longing to be that perfect romantic that always gets the girl? Now you’ve got even more of a problem! How are you supposed to keep tabs on two minds?! It feels like everything’s going wrong, burning down, targeting you. To get past this, you must learn to see your mind not as an enemy, but as a friend that knows you better than you know yourself. Go ahead and follow your mind, just for one tiny, unimportant decision or impulse, and see how it turns out. If it doesn’t end up good, then oh well, but if it does, see where it takes you. 

The world is a wonderful place when you open yourself up to its many possibilities, even if they don’t all seem perfect or ideal. Challenge yourself to take action and allow yourself to have reaction. You are a talented individual, and, if you let them, others will see you for that and want to be with you. Allow the rainbow of life to soak you in every hue and you just might find a matching color, someone so seamless and natural that you’ll wonder how you ever lived life without them by your side, that you’ll forget what it was like without them. And allow your mind to forget some things. It’ll just open you up to experience new wonders. 

Other messages - Shed the old to embrace the new. Close your eyes to see more clearly. Work together. Touch each other’s hearts. A challenge that you can successfully manage. Recognition.  Eternal work in progress (have fun working on it!) Love yourself. 

Symbols - Song. Walk with flowers lining the path. Obstacles falling away. Clear skies. Meditation. Pink.

If this was helpful, please consider donating 💜

Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

[xxxdizzy19]

I have no idea what the "slavic doll diet" trend u are all talking about (I haven't seen a video on this topic), but as a slav myself (i'm a ukrainian) I must say that our slavic food is sooo delicious. Fresh meat, different types of fish (both fresh, smoked and frozen), dairy products, vegetables, grain crops and cereals are very tasty. And I agree with first and second points. I hate it when westerns call us all russians. Seriously? To confuse us with these pigs? Nowadays they have nothing in common with us. My country had a better hope of a bright future untill these animals attacked us. Now I live my life accustomed to daily sirens and massive drone and missile attacks, simply because fucking russians cannot live in peace. So poor that they are ready to kill people just for money. The most horrible thing about that is that u're getting used to such way of living. It's just impossible to live in fear all the time. This feeling is unbearble. So I wish u all peace and happiness, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. Be safe, people. Take care about each other

'slavic doll diet' 💀💀💀

the slavic diet is half potatoes half cheese. why are you eating avocados and gruel 💀

the real slavic diet consists of:

-preserved meat (salami, smoked meats)

-butter and animal fat

-sourdough bread

-strongest homemade alcohols known to man

-black cofffe

-dumplings. soooo many duplings. bread dumplings, potato dumplings, dumplings filled with meat and or cheese. potato dumpling things with fried onion, meat, saurkraut and sheep cheese (halušky 😋😋😋😋), dumplings filled with fruit or poppy seeds and doused in butter

-soup/sauce thats just. the fattest meat boiled for several hours/overnight

-sooo much pickled stuff. pickles, cabbage, beet....

-buchty (pies?? sweet yeast dough, often filled with jams or poppy seeds)

no traditional slavic food is vegan guys, bcs ppl WANTED the calories to. yk. not die. actually, if u look at the food, it reflects that: its fatty, but with limited variety of ingredients and everything is preserved, smoked, pickled, made into jam, dried, etcso it can llast the winter. all the plants that are used in the food are plants that can survive in a soil that isnt really. friendly.

[bokutosbabe]

Oooh another event! Your Spotify wrapped was really good, I thoroughly enjoyed it. This one seems interesting so I'm dropping another request :3 May I request Chigiri (mainly because it's his birthday) with the 🍉 and 🍰 emojis c:

Thank you!

awe tysm! i had so much fun writing that one and i hope people enjoy this one just as much!

A Chigiri Hyoma Watermelon Slice

જ⁀♡⊹｡° you and i got lost in it

♡ a/n — for my more than a married couple event :)

♡ content — chigiri hyoma x gn! reader, gn! reader, popular chigiri, fake dating, one mention of his injury, set in high school so no funny buisness

♡ synopsis — having to live as a married couple was hard enough, but having to sell that you were actually chigiri hyoma was a whole other beast.

The announcement of the "marriage simulation" left the entire school buzzing with excitement and dread. Most students were hoping to get paired with their crushes or close friends. You, however, weren’t feeling particularly optimistic. The idea of pretending to be married for an entire month seemed overwhelming, especially with grades on the line.

When the pairings were revealed, you stared at the board in shock.

Your name. Chigiri Hyoma’s name.

The entire room seemed to react at once. Gasps, murmurs, and even a few jealous groans filled the air. Chigiri Hyoma, the school’s soccer star and heartthrob, was your partner. A sharp pang of nerves shot through you as your classmates turned to gawk.

"You’re so lucky," one girl whispered, glaring daggers at you.

Lucky? That was debatable.

Chigiri found you later that day, his expression unreadable as he approached. His red hair gleamed in the sunlight streaming through the hallway windows, and you couldn’t help but notice the curious glances your classmates shot your way.

"Looks like we’re stuck together," he said, his voice calm but firm.

You managed a nervous laugh. "Yeah. I hope I don’t drag you down."

He raised an eyebrow, lips curving into a faint smile. "Don’t worry about that. Let’s just get through this."

The simulation apartment was surprisingly spacious for two students. Like all the other pairs, you had separate bedrooms but were expected to share the rest of the space and complete various “married couple” tasks. Cooking, cleaning, budgeting, and even planning weekly “dates”—everything was carefully designed to test your compatibility.

From the start, Chigiri approached the simulation with a calm, almost methodical attitude. He’d nod along during discussions and pitch in when needed, but there was a certain distance to his demeanor. It wasn’t that he was cold—just reserved. Polite.

But that didn’t stop the rumors. Within days, the school was buzzing with stories about the two of you. Some speculated you had feelings for him, while others claimed he was just tolerating you. It didn’t help that Chigiri’s fanbase seemed to grow more hostile with every passing day.

"You’re the envy of half the school," Chigiri said one evening, leaning against the kitchen counter as you struggled to make dinner.

You sighed, brushing a stray strand of hair out of your face. "Yeah, and the other half thinks I don’t deserve to be here."

He tilted his head, watching you closely. "Why do you care what they think?"

"Easy for you to say," you muttered. "You’re Chigiri Hyoma."

For a moment, something flickered in his eyes. Then he pushed off the counter and grabbed a cutting board, silently joining you in the kitchen. You blinked in surprise as he started chopping vegetables with practiced ease.

"What are you doing?" you asked.

"Helping," he said simply.

Over the next week, things began to change. Chigiri’s reserved nature softened, and he started opening up in small but meaningful ways. He’d share stories about his soccer career, his struggles with injury, and even his fears about the future. In return, you found yourself confiding in him about your insecurities and the pressure you felt to prove yourself.

To make the simulation more convincing, you both decided to "fake" being a real couple when others were watching.

Was this neccesary? No. But when both of you were deadset on making every other couple look awful, it was easy.

It started with small gestures—sitting closer during classes, sharing inside jokes, and smiling at each other more often. Then came the bigger displays: Chigiri would casually drape an arm around your shoulder when classmates were nearby, and you’d laugh a little louder than necessary at his jokes.

"We have to sell it," he said one afternoon, smirking as he handed you a coffee during a study session. "Otherwise, they’ll fail us for not being convincing."

They wouldn't, by the way, but Chigiri knew you weren't aware of that.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t deny the warmth spreading through your chest. "Fine, but don’t overdo it."

He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. "Scared you’ll fall for me?"

Your cheeks burned, and you quickly turned back to your notes. "In your dreams."

The tasks became easier as you both leaned into the act. Cooking together turned into a surprisingly enjoyable routine, with Chigiri occasionally teasing you about your lack of culinary skills. Budgeting sessions were filled with quiet laughter as you argued over unnecessary expenses, like the overpriced scented candles he insisted on buying.

On one particularly busy day, you found yourself rushing to a mock family dinner the school had organized as part of the simulation. Chigiri, ever the composed one, casually slipped his hand into yours as you walked into the event.

"What are you doing?" you hissed, glancing at the curious eyes on you.

"Relax," he murmured, his grip steady. "Just playing the part."

Your heart pounded as his thumb brushed against your knuckles, and for a moment, you forgot it was all pretend.

The first date night was awkward, to say the least. The simulation required you to plan a romantic evening together, and neither of you knew where to start. In the end, you settled on a movie night in the living room, complete with popcorn and a stack of cheesy rom-coms.

To your surprise, Chigiri seemed to genuinely enjoy himself. He laughed at all the right moments, his usual calm demeanor replaced by a relaxed, almost boyish charm. By the time the credits rolled, you were both lying on the couch, your shoulders brushing as you shared a blanket.

"This isn’t so bad," he admitted, glancing at you with a small smile.

Your heart skipped a beat. "Yeah. Not bad at all."

By the third week, the line between "pretend" and "real" began to blur.

You couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment it happened, but somewhere along the way, your feelings for Chigiri deepened. It wasn’t just a schoolgirl crush anymore. You admired his determination, his kindness, and the quiet strength he carried despite everything he’d been through.

But you were convinced he didn’t feel the same. Why would he? Chigiri Hyoma was out of your league in every possible way. He deserved someone confident, someone beautiful—someone who wasn’t you.

The final task of the simulation was a formal dinner, complete with fancy outfits and a grading panel. You spent the entire day stressing over every detail, from the menu to the table setting. Chigiri, as usual, remained calm and composed.

When he stepped out of his room in a sharp suit, you couldn’t help but stare. He looked… breathtaking.

"You clean up well," he said, his eyes sweeping over your outfit.

"You too," you managed, feeling your cheeks heat up.

The dinner went off without a hitch, and by the end of the night, you were both sitting on the balcony, watching the city lights. The simulation was nearly over, and you couldn’t shake the bittersweet feeling in your chest.

"What happens after this?" you asked softly.

Chigiri turned to you, his expression unreadable. "What do you mean?"

"I mean… we go back to normal, right? Like none of this ever happened."

He was silent for a long moment. Then he leaned forward, resting his arms on the railing. "Do you want it to go back to normal?"

Your heart pounded. "I… I don’t know."

Chigiri’s gaze met yours, and for the first time, you saw something in his eyes that made your breath catch. Vulnerability. Hope.

"For what it’s worth," he said quietly, "I don’t want it to."

The words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. Slowly, hesitantly, he reached out and took your hand in his. His touch was warm, steady, and for the first time, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe—just maybe—he felt the same way.

When the simulation ended, you both received high marks for your performance. But the grades didn’t matter anymore. What mattered was the boy standing beside you, his hand brushing yours as you walked out of the apartment for the last time.

As the school buzzed with gossip about the simulation’s results, you and Chigiri lingered by the courtyard fountain, the evening sun casting a warm glow around you. Neither of you seemed eager to say goodbye.

"So," he said, breaking the silence, "what now?"

You hesitated, searching his face for any hint of doubt. But all you saw was the same steady determination that had drawn you to him in the first place.

"I guess we see where this goes," you said softly.

A smile spread across his face—genuine, unguarded, and utterly breathtaking. "Just say you'll date me already."

Ever the serious yet also silly man you'd grown to know over the past few weeks, what else were you supposed to say?

"Well then, Chigiri Hyoma, yes, I'll date you."

this was supposed to be fake dating so i hope i pulled it off decently :)

i hope you liked it!

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

[thoughtfulfiction]

The Game Plan

Author’s note: Merry Christmas Bolt fam🩵Still working on rewrites but I needed to write something new to get inspired. I am done with school so I’ll hopefully be able to get fics out more often!

Last time he was this nervous, he stood on shaky legs in front of a New York crowd accepting the William V. Campbell trophy. Public speaking wasn’t his favorite thing in the world and he hated talking about himself. But this was about a hundred times more important. And more nerve wracking.

When Justin suggested flying to your hometown to spend some time with your parents, you didn’t bat an eye. You’d been talking about making a trip back home after the season was over and were elated to discover that he was on the same page. Now that the time had come and you were looking at him as he drove the rental car to your family home, you couldn't help but think maybe he was regretting his decision. The man was constantly fidgeting in his seat, his grip on the steering wheel tight, eyes full of stress and semi concern.

"You okay?" You furrowed your eyebrows at him, urging your boyfriend to let you in on whatever was causing him such turmoil.

"What? Oh yeah no, I'm fine." He knew that sounded less than convincing. "It's just weird with the season being over. Almost like I have to learn how to relax again. This week will be good though."

Nodding in understanding, you place a hand on his leg hoping that the simple touch will ease his mind. Little did you know he was in the midst of a huge inner crisis. Justin rehearsed what he was going to say a few more times before pulling into your parent's driveway. Swallowing down his nerves, he grabbed your suitcase and his, walking toward the front door feeling like his legs weighed a ton each.

Your mom had already taken you away to the kitchen by the time he walked in, immediately lost in conversation about work and life while your dad grabbed one of the bags out of Justin's hands. The two men trudged up the stairs to drop off the bags, exchanging pleasantries and getting settled in before heading to the backyard to cook. Your dad loved Justin. He was the perfect partner for you, a perfect mix of fun/exciting and responsible/caring. He had seen you fall more and more in love with the quarterback over the years which made it easy to love him too. And getting to talk about football all day with someone who actually valued such intimate conversations about the sport helped.

All of the distracting small talk was out of the way, Justin had complimented your dad on his new grill and the improvements he'd made on the backyard and they had unpacked some of the nitty gritty details of the season and who your dad thought they should draft as perfect additions to the roster for the next season and the only thing that remained was the pit of nerves in his stomach that hadn't disappeared since boarding the plane.

"Something on your mind?" Your dad was observant, not really one to beat around the bush. He'd noticed a slight edge to Justin's voice since the two of you had arrived and was really trying to wait to give him some time. He'd obviously gotten too impatient. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Justin's had relationships before. Not many times, but he's felt security and love in other people, seeing a future with them and thought about what the rest of his life would look like. Being with you was not only the most serious relationship he'd ever been in but he found himself constantly planning for the future and setting his family up for long-term success, a family that he now couldn't envision without you. He swallowed thickly, suddenly overcome with emotion at the words that he needed to express to your father. "There is something on my mind actually," he clears his throat, trying really hard to maintain eye contact and not look down at the grill. "I wanted to come here first thing to ask you for your permission."

"My...permission?"

"Your permission, your blessing. Either one. Or both." Your boyfriend rambles on nervously, the words tumbling out of his mouth completely out of order and unlike anything he’d just spent time practicing.

Your dad still looks at him, confused. Justin sighs, "I love your daughter more than anything in the world. She’s the greatest thing in my life and I never thought I’d have the opportunity to be with someone so special. Now that I’ve gotten to be with her I don’t ever want to let her go and...it's really important for me to ask you before I propose."

In that moment it all begins to click and your dad nods. Here was one of the most calm and collected quarterbacks in the NFL stumbling over his words out of nerves because he wanted to ask for permission before getting engaged. A man who's build could arguably be compared to ancient Greek deities was a mere mortal when it came to you and it took every ounce of your dad's strength not to crack a smile. "You came all this way to ask me if you can marry my daughter. So you could do this in person?" The younger man nods. "Before I answer, can you promise me one thing?"

"Anything." Justin says without hesitation. He didn't care what he had to do, he just knew he was going to do it no matter what it took.

Your dad looks toward the house, watching you and your mom laughing while getting the sides set on the table. He looks back at Justin, eyes brimming with tears. "She is my greatest treasure. Promise me you will treat her like nothing less than that."

"I will sir, you have my word."

Justin holds out a hand and your dad pulls him in for a hug. "Welcome to the family son," patting him on the back. The quarterback swore he heard a crack in the other man’s voice but said nothing.

You watched the exchange from the kitchen, slightly confused because your dad didn't exactly give out free hugs like they were Halloween candy. "What is happening out there?"

Your mom catches her husband's eye at the end of the hug, seeing him point at his ring finger and trying to contain her excitement. "I'm sure it's nothing," she smiles, handing you another plate to set on the table, "Justin probably asked him if he wants to golf tomorrow. You know he's been trying to get more into it and bringing an NFL quarterback in front of all of his friends is definitely going to boost his confidence." The two of you stood in silence for a bit until you seemed satisfied with that answer and the two men were back inside, immediately distracting you from asking any further questions as conversation flowed as the food and wine were consumed. Justin helped your mom wash the dishes that night, deep in some secret conversation filled with sporadic giggles and all you could think about was how lucky you were to find someone that fit in so seamlessly. Little did you know they were planning a surprise that you'd never forget.

Step one? Find the perfect ring.

"Isabella, I need a favor," Justin takes a seat at the counter next to his sister-in-law. "You need to distract y/n for a couple hours so I can go through her phone."

Placing her own phone down, she looks at him like he's grown another head. "Why in the hell would I do that? Why would YOU do that?” The more she talks the more visibly upset she looks and Justin is severely regretting not being more specific.

“It’s—it’s not what you think. I just—”

She holds up a finger to keep him from explaining himself any more. “I just want you to know that I’m never thought you’d be one of those people and it’s really disappointing.”

He sighs, looking around to make sure that you aren’t walking in any time soon. “I heard you guys talking last week. About how you had a bunch of videos in your Tik Tok likes that helped you plan your wedding. Then she mentioned that she’s been saving some rings that she thinks would look good on her and I need to see those. So I can design the best ring.”

The tension in her body is instantly released and her features are filled with relief. She holds a hand over her mouth to hide a happy squeal before taking a moment to compose herself so she doesn’t give anything away when she sees you. “You’re proposing,” she whispers leaning in close so no one else can hear.

He leans in too, a wide grin on his face. “I’m proposing.”

“I’ll keep her busy,” she promises, giving him a fist bump.

A girls only DIY spa night in gave him the perfect outlet to grabbing your phone. As soon as the cucumber slices were on your eyelids and Isabella gave him the sign, your cellphone was in his hand and he got to work. He screenshotted 13 different ring designs, jotting down some notes in his own phone, looking at various ring styles and the cut that would best match the style that you were looking for. Then he jotted down some local jewelers to visit and design the ring in person, going as far as flying your best friend to Oregon for a few days under false pretenses that she had a work trip in the area and decided to stay at the ranch since it was nicer than a hotel.

Approximately four weeks after his initial meeting with the jeweler, Justin held the velvet box in his hands and admired everyone’s hard work. He’d had a hand in designing every crevice of the ring that looked much smaller in between his fingers as he examined the diamond. Fresh nerves were beginning to set in as the moment became more and more tangible and real. Once he found a secure spot to hide the ring, he moved forward with the next part of his master plan.

Step two? Come up with proposal ideas.

The beautiful thing about the offseason was that you still had to work remotely, so you’d be in your office in one corner of the house and after his morning workout he had all the free time in the world. The bad thing about that was that he had all this free time to sit and think about how he was going to set up an unforgettable proposal. Luckily, some of his receivers had come down for a Nike promo event and to throw so he had people to bounce ideas off of.

“What about this? I take her to Sofi and propose in the middle of the stadium with just the two of us. We have the video board showing monumental moments of our relationship and as she’s watching I just get down on a knee.”

Ladd takes a sip of water, making eye contact with Derius, who says nothing. Justin continues pacing, taking the collective silence as a sign to suggest something else.

“Don’t everyone jump up at once,” he lets out a nervous laugh, wracking his brain. “Maybe I could drive us to Napa Valley with dinner and some music?” That suggestion earned more interaction, some guys nodded, recalling their own proposals and having him take some pointers from their experiences. There was a time where he couldn’t log onto Instagram without seeing one of his teammates getting engaged and the only thing that made him more nervous than proposing was the media circus that would result from the news getting out. Yes, he wanted it to be special and intimate but the thought of the social media team getting their hands on it and invading your privacy was a little scary. Somehow he had to push that thought out of his mind and tackle one problem at a time.

“Private beach proposal in Hawaii?”

Simi stands up at the suggestion, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Sounds beautiful in theory, but aren’t you scared of having the ring so close to the water?”

“Yeah what if you’re so nervous that you drop the box and it’s washed away by the tide,” Ladd notes. “The less distracting things around you the better. Helps you focus on just her.”

“I don’t think that’ll be a problem, he’s obsessed,” Patrick says, walking by just to chastise his brother. Justin flips him off without uttering a word, an unwavering focus on the task at hand.

Nothing seemed right, some ideas were too flashy, too cheesy. He wanted to show you how much you meant to him, how you’d changed his perspective on life and balancing work and your relationship. That it was possible to do both because the right person brings things out of you that you didn’t even know where there. How do you encompass all of those feelings into one perfect location?

“I’m not gonna lie,” Simi says, voice full of sincerity. “You gotta let the perfect time come to you, you’ll know when the time is right. Trust me.”

Justin had no other choice at this point. He spent the next few weeks holding onto the ring, desperately looking for the right time. Spending all this time stressing and planning and plotting had really taken him away from you. There was an unspoken distance between the two of you and it had become increasingly upsetting. Even when you were in the same room it felt like he was miles away, stuck in his own head, shutting you out completely. You were starting to think that he was looking for a way out and couldn’t decide on a way to let you down easy. The thought of him tip toeing around a breakup made you nauseous.

“Why haven’t you done it yet? You can’t keep putting this off forever,” you heard Mitch say one morning after you came home earlier than expected from an in-person work meeting. Usually you wouldn’t eavesdrop, but Justin’s behavior hadn’t exactly given you a vote of confidence in the state of your relationship. You couldn’t even really remember the last time you went on a date without him looking like he was seconds away from getting sick.

Justin on the other hand had spent every dinner date thinking about whether or not this was the moment. Walking around with the ring in his pocket everywhere he went just in case, deathly afraid of you finding it on accident. That thought alone, of him walking in the house to you holding that ring box not only made him want to cry a little at the ruined surprise but also make him feel like throwing up. And he was tired of hearing everyone and their mom ask him when he was going to pull the trigger and propose.

Especially when he felt like it was happening every single day.

“I’m not putting it off! I just—this is harder than I thought. It’s not just something to check off the to-do list. I gotta do it right or I’m not doing it at all.”

He felt so bad about dumping you that he was putting it off…so he could do it the right way? What even is the right way to end a relationship? You didn’t want to stick around to find out, making your way back outside to sit in your car and think about your next move.

“Justin is planning on dumping me.” You sighed into the phone, calling your best friend.

“What? Where did you get that from?”

You spent the next 20 minutes explaining to her all the signs. His weird behavior, always on his phone but will never let you see what he’s doing or who he’s talking to. You feel like he’s hiding something but he makes sure to only give you minor details saying he’s planning a trip with the guys or talking to his agent about taking on different endorsements. It all just seems too fishy. Why is he torturing you like this by stringing you along? Should you just break up with him first?

“You have to act normal like you don’t suspect anything,” you hear at the other end of the line. Her voice is calm and reassuring which is nice because the last thing you needed to hear was that she didn’t believe you. “If he’s breaking up with you then let him explain him himself. Justin has never been someone to do things without a purpose and you know he’d never do anything knowing that it would hurt you.”

She had a point. “Fine. You’re right, I’ll hear him out and figure it out after I gather all the information. Thank you for talking me off the ledge.”

“You’re welcome.” As soon as you hung up the phone, your friend texted Justin that he should start acting a bit more casual because you were freaking out.

The next evening, he surprised you with a bonfire movie night.

“What’s all this?”

Justin pats the spot on the outdoor couch next to him, welcoming you to take a seat. “An apology? I’m sorry I’ve been off lately. There’s been a lot on my mind and I got so lost in my head that I’ve been neglecting you but that stops today. It had nothing to do with how I feel about you at all, you’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“Care to share with the class what was bothering you for so long?”

You cuddle into his side, a sense of comfort immediately taking over the constant state of unease that previously surrounded you. Looking up at him, he places a gentle kiss on your lips, so soft it leaves you wanting more. “It doesn’t matter now, all that I care about,” he sneaks another kiss, “is being right here with you.”

“Well in that case,” you whisper, “we should make s’mores.”

Justin laughs, kissing you on the cheek and rising to his feet, helping you up before heading into the kitchen. The tray on the counter was loaded with various snack items, Reese’s cups, pretzels and strawberries along with normal s’more ingredients. As you made your way back to the bonfire and began to dig in, a thought popped into your mind while enjoying the stillness.

“We can’t do things like this in LA. You can’t beat the scenery out there and the background noise of the traffic isn’t exactly the most romantic.”

He looks up at the sky full of stars, remembering exactly why he bought land out here in the first place. “I’ve always thought about raising our future kids here. Los Angeles is where I work but this is home, they can grow up and be normal kids here. Play outside, go fishing, experience a childhood that has lasting memories. Not sitting in traffic for hours and never seeing a real tree.”

“Our kids?”

“Yeah,” he says without hesitation. “I think about Coach getting our son his first pair of khakis.”

You laugh, picturing it in your head, “and he’d probably get our daughter a custom pair of cleats to wear pregame.”

“Exactly,” he throws his head back to laugh at the image of mini versions of you and him being spoiled by his head coach. He grabs another strawberry, dipping it in the melted chocolate and feeding it to you. “How many kids do you want?”

“Let’s say it at the same time.”

He counts down from five, saying “three” at the same time you do.

Looking at each other in shock, you burst into laughter at the fact that you have identical answers despite the fact that you’d never openly spoken about it. You each knew the other wanted children but just didn’t know exactly how many. Justin felt like his heart might burst with an uncomfortable and overwhelming amount of happiness. If it wasn’t clear then, it is now.

There, in that moment, nothing seemed more perfect. He looked down at your hands, spotting the manicure you’d gotten last week before attending a wedding. Simi’s words came flooding back, you’ll know when the time is right.

And that time was right now.

“I’m gonna head inside and grab another water, do you want anything?”

“I think I’m okay. Thank you though,” you barely acknowledged the exchange, wrapped up in finding the perfect movie to watch as you scrolled through all the streaming services. Today, the most simply normal day was about to be extraordinary and his feet couldn’t carry him inside fast enough to grab the ring.

His heart was beating in his ears walking back outside. He clears his throat to get your attention and the look on his face makes you stand. “What happened?”

“I spent so long trying to create the perfect moment. But I just realized that every moment with you is perfect.”

Your voice catches in your throat and you’re forced to speak in a hushed tone. “What are you doing?”

He takes a deep breath, holding the box firmly in his hand. “I love you. You’re the one I want to build a home with, create a family with, grow old with and everything in between that this life has to offer. I’m sorry it took me so long, that I spent so much time trying to capture some picturesque scene that we’ll remember forever. You and I, right here is memorable. Being with you is all I’ve ever need, all I’ll ever need. For the rest of my life.” He opens the box and you audibly gasp, everything in your body tingling and buzzing with excitement. Everything made sense now, his nerves, the secrecy…everything. He was trying to make all of your dreams come true.

Holding your hand in one and the box in the other, he gets down on one knee. “Will you make me the happiest man in the world, will you marry me?”

“Yes,” you respond immediately, sounding out of breath while wiping a tear from your eye. “A thousand times yes, of course I’ll marry you!” Sliding the ring that fits exactly like it was tailored to your finger, he stands up and wraps his arms around you, a small tear escaping him.

Justin kisses you, a passionate deep kiss, relieved that everything had gone even better than he’d imagined, pulling you in so close that you can feel his steady heartbeat. His movements were long and slow, a slight grin against your lips as you give into belonging to each other. Lost in paradise he leaned his forehead against yours, both of your eyes still closed in awe that this actually just happened.

“Here’s to a lifetime of perfect moments and sometimes the best plan is no plan. I love you Justin, this is amazing I couldn’t ask for anything more incredible.” You pulled away, opening your eyes to look at your hand. “And this ring? You’re crazy.”

“I am crazy. Crazy about you,” he kisses you on the forehead, running his hand across your fingers. “I love you so much, fiancée.”

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

With Vander

|| Vi x fem!reader

|| Warnings; slightly altered story, just before Vi leaves to go to Vander, reader begging Vi to stay, Vi being blunt with Powder, what ifs, mentions of death, scared reader, teasing between Vi and reader, Vi blaming herself

|| Summary; when Vi's about to set off to find Vander, reader tries to stop her and ends up staying behind with Powder.

Requests open!!

Started; December 24th

Finished; December 24th

HurtCember2024; Day 22, Don't Leave

~~~

What was she thinking? You looked absolutely dumbfounded as you stared at Vi. Watching her getting ready to leave and go find Vander. Everything in your gut was telling you this was a bad idea. Vander wasn't the type of guy to do something without reason, if he put himself up like this... there was no telling what kind of situation they'd find themselves in.

"Vi, wait- don't leave," it was a pathetic beg and you knew it. But you just... you couldn't let her go. Something was going to go down. You didn't want her getting caught in it. What if she didn't come back alive? What then?

Vi turned to look at you, a frown on her face as she saw the fear in your eyes. Couldn't you understand? Understand how she was feeling? She had to go. It was supposed to be her. Not Vander. It was her fault he was taken," I have to. Stay here, I'll be back. With Vander." There was an overwhelming sense of determination in her eyes. How could she be so sure? You couldn't even see a single flicker of doubt.

"Vi..." You murmured, praying to whatever Gods were listening that this wasn't the last time you'd see your girlfriend. You really, really hoped it wasn't. You'd already had your future with her planned out. She couldn't leave before it even really started.

"I'll be okay, cute face. Stay here with Pow, okay? Keep her safe for me," Vi cupped your cheek. Her words soft. If Vi was afraid, she was clearly doing a good job at hiding it. Her lips met with yours. You held it for however long you could before she pulled away from you. Giving you one last confident smirk," I'll be back, alright? So, don't worry."

"I'll always worry about you. You're such an idiot," you tried for a laugh. It came out more forced than you'd intended.

"Well yeah, but I'm your idiot, aren't I?" She winked at you and your cheeks flushed.

"I love you, you dork."

"I love you too... bigger dork," Vi nudged you with a teasing grin and you swatted her arm, earning a laugh from her. Powder walked over to the two of you, her eyes looking just as determined as Vi's.

"I wanna help," Powder declared. You shared a look with Vi. She was too young. On top of that, there were just too many risks with this one.

"You're going to stay behind with Y/N, okay Pow? We won't take long," Vi crouched down to her sister's height. Giving her head a playful rub. Messing with her hair.

Powder didn't seem to happy about that," but-"

"No buts this time. You're not ready," Vi was blunt. Probably the bluntest you'd heard her, at least towards Powder. Her sister was usually a soft spot.

You got down to one knee, cupping the kid's cheek with a smile," we'll have fun. How about... you take me to the little secret arcade you guys got? Beat me at some shooting games. Again."

Powder seemed to consider it for a moment, Vi gave you an appreciative look and started to leave," I wanna go with Vi!"

"You're staying with Y/N, that's finale." Then the three of them left. Leaving you alone with Powder.

"I'm going with Vi. You can try to stop me, but it would be better just to help me," geez. Powder was more determined than her sister. You sighed, watching the little blue haired girl get one of her monkey bombs.

"Pow... we shouldn't go-"

And she was already off at a run.

"Ah- hey- POWDER!" You bolted after her.

...we all know how the rest goes.

[housederiva]

so now that veilguard is out and digested, what would you say the best place for a complete newcomer to get into dragon age is? does origins still hold up as a fun opening game fifteen years later?

Dear listener my advice is to play Veilguard before the first 3 installments. I genuinely believe that it would be enjoyed more if you don't know what has been lost/what has been taken from you cut beforehand. The only thing from the first 3 installments that matter in Veilguard is one possible choice your Inquisitor makes, romancing Solas (If you don't have a previous inquisitor I highly recommend making her a Lavellan who was/is in love with him in Veilguard's cc, they have a beautiful story)

While Veilguard is a good RPG, it is not a good Dragon Age game. If you know what shoulders it's standing on, the luster will wear off very quickly. I love it for what it is and I will mourn it for what it is not - and that's okay in a sad, almost bitter way. Inquisition was game of the year for a reason and subsequently Veilguard wasn't mentioned at all for another

On the flip side though (and please keep in mind I'm saying this as someone who played origins in 2009) Origins, Awakening, 2, Inquisition, and most of their DLC's are a branching, beautiful story that will leave a permanent mark on your heart And you can choose what those marks are because your actions in origins ripple out into Inquisition (some more so than others). It will echo out through any other media you love in the future and depending on how old you are it will rewire bits of your brain because let me tell you playing Inquisition at 15 did something to me. Yes, the combat mechanics aren't the greatest in Origins and 2 is a little annoying to play on PC but their stories are wonderful...

What is it like to be thrust into a position of importance and did it stem from choice or survival? Is conscription liberating or a chain of resentment? What is it like to lose your home only to slowly build another that you love and cherish just to watch it crumble away? To know that no matter what you do, it was for nothing? What does it mean when you are suddenly a beacon of hope for a people that possibly are not even your own? What does it feel like to be held in such a regard that you are seen as the voice of a god and no longer a person? Are you afraid that your name will be erased - your culture will be erased, and you will just remain your title just like the one that came before you?

If you have no prior experience with Dragon Age play Veilguard first. That way you won't be upset about what has happened to [redacted's] character or the fact that tranquility is never mentioned and several other things that I don't need to go into here. But without playing the others first, you won't understand the severity of the Blight, your tether Varric won't be as strong, the injustice done to the elves and dalish will go unnoticed. You won't know what it means to be a mage in southern Thedas. You won't know what it means to be castless or saarebas, you won't know what vallaslin is.

If Veilguard is the first experience you have with Dragon Age then you won't know the teeth the series used to have, you'll only have what they're passing off as a growl and you'll be satisfied with that

[holdmytesseract]

Wrapping up 2024...

divider by @jiyascepter <3

Hello, there?

*taps microphone*

Fellow talented writers, dear mutuals, wonderful friends, and faithful readers... 2024 is coming to an end, and I thought it's time to take a look back at this year together with all of you - if you like, of course! ☺️

2024 has been a good year, I'd say personally. It wasn't the best, but certainly not bad. I was blessed with finding a lot of new friends on here... @chennqingg @angelwings-crossbowstrings @dixons-sunshine @mayday2007 @huntedmusicgardenn and @erebus-et-eigengrau ! Thank you for letting me invade your blogs, askboxes and DM's! I'm so grateful we became friends! 🙏🏼🧡 Especially @dixons-sunshine ... Gods, I'm such a fangirl of Krys. You have no idea. It's a wonder I didn't scare her off with my endless ramblings, lol. 😆

I also bumped into a lot of amazing, talented people on here this year - new faces and old acquaintances... @thevegandarkelf @loz-3 @buttercupcookies-blog @gigglingtiggerv2 @jiyascepter and so many more! You all have managed to blow my mind not just once, guys. Thank you for that! 🧡

I have also been blessed to spend another year with the gang on here! @smolvenger @eleniblue @lokisgoodgirl @mochie85 @vbecker10 @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @mypainischronicbutmyassisiconic @anukulee @multifandom-worlds @jiyascepter - you guys are the best, and you damn well know how much y'all mean to me. Tumblr wouldn't be the same without you. That much is certain. Please never forget how freaking badass and magnificent you are! *BIG HUGS* 🧡

Yeah... I love the bond we all share on here. No matter writer, reader or 'lurker' - we all share the same passion one way or the other, and that's just beautiful, isn't it?

I'd like to give out a special thanks to @muddyorbsblr . It feels like we have known each other for ages but only got closer throughout this year (and perhaps the end of last year - I unfortunately can't remember entirely. Please forgive me, bestie.) Almost not a day goes by without us texting - and that's awesome. I could always rely on you for advice and help - or just for thirst. 🤭 No matter what, you always have a sympathetic ear for me - and I appreciate this and you so much! Thanks for being here and sharing all those cool things with me! I love you, bestie! 🧡

Another very close friend of mine I met on here is @fictive-sl0th - my compatriot, hehe. She's just wonderful. You know what I'm talking about if you ever had the chance to talk to her. That girl's got a heart of gold, I swear. She ALWAYS helps me when I get stuck on a story. I don't know what I'd do without her. I enjoy talking to her a lot. Friend, I absolutely treasure you. I love you! 🧡

What else happened this year on here? Well... I did a lot of writing - for which I'm very grateful. I'm still having so much fun doing this. I truly hope y'all have just as much fun with reading. I couldn't imagine a life without writing anymore. It's impossible.

My personal writing highlights this year:

• A Covenant for Eternity - a project I absolutely LOVED to write. It's been so cool to do this in cooperation with so many people. Love, love, love!

• Love In The Rearview Mirror - my newest series. I know I just started to post it, but I've been working on this already for quite some time. I love this series with all my heart, and I truly hope it won't disappoint you.

• Echoes of Hope - another great AU that I started. I absolutely fell in love with my OC's Teddy and Marlo. I just can't help but to continue this.

• Hunter & Prey - one of the steamiest things I ever wrote. I love this addition of the Baby Fever AU!

• ...what the future holds... - a spontaneous idea that turned into one of my favourite stories.

Do you guys have any favourite stories? I'm curious! Let me know - if you want! 🤗

What else happened? 🤔

Oh yeah, and I reached 2k followers this year! TWO THOUSAND... This is insane... I'm still stunned by this, I swear. I would've NEVER ever thought this was going to happen someday. Not even in my wildest dreams. Thank you again for this! 🙏🏼

And oh boy, we celebrated big...

Campire Sleepover

Well... It's been a wild ride - and I can't wait what the next year has to offer... I'm excited!

Thank you ALL for reading, commenting, reblogging, and interacting! Thank you ALL for spending this year with me - and fangirling together. No matter if it was about an mischievous God, or an archer with an angel-winged vest. Thank you ALL for helping me shape this blog. It wouldn't be the same without you.

Thank you - from the bottom of my heart!

I truly hope I didn't forget somebody... If I did, I'm SO sorry. I didn't mean to forget you! Please feel hugged. 🙏🏼

I love you all! 🧡

Now there's only one more thing left to say - I mean, I already stole enough of your time...

I wish all of you a merry merry Christmas and happy holidays! I hope you are able to enjoy it! 🎄

And now... *turns up Christmas music*

P.S. If you made it until here, I'm gonna tell you a secret... 🤫 There's a Christmas-ish Loki oneshot coming your way in the next two days... 🤫

[30somethingautisticteacher]

Christmas Reconciliation

In case anyone was wondering how Buck and Tommy's Christmas is going today 😆🥰

****

The warm glow of Christmas morning filled Maddie and Chim's living room. Buck sank into the couch, surrounded by the aftermath of gift-opening chaos, crumpled wrapping paper littering the floor

Jee Yun sat cross-legged on the floor, completely absorbed in her new toys.

"Hey, little brother. You doing ok?" Maddie asked, her voice soft with sisterly concern.

"Oh uh yeah. It's Christmas. Why wouldn't I be?" Buck responded, his smile not quite reaching his eyes.

"Buck," Maddie said in a warning tone. "You're staring at that phone awfully hard. What's up?"

"Connor sent me a Christmas text with a picture of him, Kameron, and Simon," Buck said, holding out his phone and showing the image to Maddie.

"Wow, he really does look a lot like you," Maddie observed, taking in the details of the photograph.

"Yeah, he does," Buck agreed. His voice softened, tinged with a deep, aching sadness. "I guess I'm just feeling jealous. I want that. I want to be a Dad on Christmas morning. I want to make Christmas breakfast and wear matching Christmas pajamas."

He paused, his eyes distant. "I saw that future. I could see it as clear as day. Me and Tommy snuggled up on the couch with two kids, drinking hot cocoa and watching a fire burn in the fireplace. And now? My future is just a blank slate."

"Maybe that's a good thing?" Maddie offered gently. "Full of possibilities."

"I don't want possibilities," Buck said, his voice trembling with raw emotion. "I want Tommy."

"Oh, Buck," Maddie said, pulling him into a hug.

She caught Chimney's eyes over Buck's head and nodded.

Buck let himself be held by his sister for a few more minutes before standing and taking a deep breath. "Okay, that's enough of that. It's time to ice my cinnamon rolls." He headed to the kitchen and fell into his chosen form of distraction. His focus was so complete he nearly missed the knock on the door.

"Hey, Buck?" Chim called out, a hint of something suspiciously like excitement in his voice. "I think Santa had one more gift for you today."

Buck wiped his hands on a dish towel, a puzzled look crossing his face as he walked toward the door.

"Tommy," Buck whispered.

"Merry Christmas, Evan. Can we talk?"

Buck nodded, unable to form words. Tommy looked worn and tired but still devastatingly handsome. Buck's heart skipped a beat as he looked into those deep blue eyes.

"Why don't you two go have a chat on the patio?" Maddie said.

"Thanks, Maddie," Tommy replied. He and Buck walked through the house and out the back door, the weight of unspoken words hanging between them.

"Why are you here, Tommy?" Buck asked, the words coming out more harshly than he meant for them to.

"I miss you," Tommy whispered.

"What?" Buck said, confusion and hope warring in his voice.

"I miss you, Evan. I miss you. I miss you so damn much that it hurts. I'm not sleeping, I'm barely eating. My captain even temporarily pulled me from air support because he said I'm not safe to fly in this condition." Tommy took in a deep, ragged breath. "I am so sorry that I broke us."

"Then why? Why did you do it? Why did you leave me? I wanted it all with you. I was willing to give you everything, and you just walked away," Buck said, his voice a mixture of pain and desperation.

"You don't know me, Evan. Not really," Tommy said, vulnerability seeping through his defensive words.

"And whose fault is that?" Buck challenged. "I want to know you. All of you. Not just the shiny cool guy that you let the world see. I want it all. And there were times that you trusted me enough to show me glimpses."

"I'm a mess," Tommy murmured.

"Hello! Have you met me?" Buck replied, a hint of humor breaking through the tension. "I don't care about that. You were my mess. We were each other's messes."

"Do you think there's any chance-" Tommy trailed off, leaving the possibility hanging between them.

"You're it for me, Tommy, and I'm sorry if that scares you, but it's true. I love you, and you are my endgame. Do you think maybe you can try to see me as yours?" Buck said, his eyes filling with tears.

"Oh, baby," Tommy said, gently wiping away the tears as they began to spill down Buck's cheeks. "I love you too, and I am never letting you go again."

They kissed gently at first, but then with more heat, pouring out everything they had been holding back.

"Ahem," The two men broke apart as Chimney appeared in the doorway, a knowing smile on his face.

"Now that that's all settled. How about some Christmas breakfast?"

They grinned as Buck grabbed Tommy's hand intertwining their fingers, and steered him inside.

They still had lots of work to do to repair the cracks in their relationship, but it was a start. And Buck knew that they were just going to get stronger because they were in love - messy, complicated, beautiful love, actually.

[mofongomuncher]

𝘼 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙚𝙘𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙧

POV: Telling Ekko you’re pregnant

Im gonna be posting a bunch of lil Ekko oneshots on Wattpad, I feel like this man doesn’t get enough stories and it irkssss me sm. So if you’d like to read more the link is at the end!!

I'm not all that good at writing, I’m also doing this for fun so please go easy on me. I'm hoping to get better as I keep writing. But I still hope you guys enjoy it!! :3

.

The Firelight base, hidden among the green thick fogs of Zaun, was Ekko's haven. A quiet—peaceful place from the chaos of the Undercity.

His little room at the top of his tree was where he could think, when the weight of leadership felt too heavy—he could sit, take a moment for himself for a little bit.

His room was filled with unfinished projects, blueprints and tools scattered all across his workbench, The lanterns and candles cast a soft, wam glow over the space, giving it a calming, almost ethereal atmosphere.

But tonight...tonight felt different.

Tonight, there was something heavy in the air.

Y/N sat on the edge of his bed, She had something she needed to say. Something that had been on her mind for days now. But the thought of how Ekko would react to it made her heart race like hell.

Ekko was seated at his workbench, tinkering with a device, his brows furrowed in concentration. When Y/N finally spoke, her voice barely rose above a whisper, it stopped him cold.

"Ekko," she began, and when he turned, the look on his face shifted. His precious brown eyes locked onto hers, and for a moment, she saw his guard come down, just a fraction.

He stood, his usual cool confidence flickering for just an instant. "What's up doll? You've been acting different... is something wrong?"

Y/N hesitated.

Fuck This wasn't easy.

How do you tell someone you love so much that their life is about to change forever?

But she couldn't keep it to herself anymore.

"Ekko...I'm pregnant."

Ekko froze. His expression was unreadable for a second before his eyes narrowed, brows drawing together. His mind that was always fast, was now working overtime, processing what the hell she just said.

For a second, the silence felt like a punch to the gut, the weight of his thoughts pressing down on both of them.

"You're... pregnant?" He repeated, his voice low, almost to himself, like he wasn't sure whether to believe it or not. He just stood there, trying to find something to say but was unable to form the words just yet.

Y/N nodded, swallowing hard.

"I found out a little while ago. I just didn't know how to tell you. Hell, I didn't even know how to process it myself."

Ekko rubbed his forehead, He was silent for a moment longer before he spoke, his voice rougher than usual, but it was tinged with concern. "I... I'm not sure what to do with this Y/N...Fuck...I didn't even expect to see this coming.."

Y/N's heart clenched at the uncertainty in his voice. She had been afraid of this, of him not knowing how to react.

she took a deep breath, trying to keep her voice steady. "I didn't expect this either. I'm scared too Ekko. But I don't—I can't to do this alone. I need you."

Ekko didn't move right away, his gaze still locked on her. His hands fidgeted with a loose gear on the workbench, his mind was clearly in a battle between his responsibilities and the unexpected future baby unfolding in front of him.

"Damn..." he muttered, shaking his head, his usual confident demeanor cracked for a moment.

"...I—I don't even know what kind of father I'd be. I barely have time to think straight with everything that's going on lately." His voice softened, but it was raw, honest—Ekko was always the kind of person who wasn't afraid to show what he was feeling around me, even if it made him vulnerable.

"But I'm not gonna back down from it..."                   "Not from you."

Y/N felt the tension in her chest start to melt away as he spoke.

She stepped closer, her eyes softening, the relief obvious in her expression.

Ekko's eyes softened as he took a step closer, his hand gently cupping her face. "Whatever happens next, we'll figure it out..Like we always do." His smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

He leaned in a little closer, their foreheads brushing together. He seemed to take a moment to just soak it all in, before speaking again, softer this time.

"I love you Y/N."

Y/N's smile softened, feeling her heart swell. But before she could say anything, Ekko's voice had that hint of excitement. "And I'm gonna love our baby too. I'll teach 'em alll the important stuff."

He leaned back a bit, his eyes sparkling with affection. "Can you imagine? A little mini us running around just causing all the trouble, and I'm the one trying to keep it all together while you just—well, you'll be egging 'em on won't you?"

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a playful grin. "Oh absolutely! That little ball of happiness is gonna have all of your genius and a whole lot of my sass... We'll have a little firecracker on our hands."

Ekko's grin grew, the playful energy between them settling into something warm and steady. "They'll be perfect." He stepped in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, then slowly brushing his lips against hers in a gentle, lingering kiss.

When they pulled away, he smiled, his hand gently resting on her cheek. "And if they're half as amazing as you, we'll be just fine."

Y/N's heart fluttered, her smile growing as she met his eyes. "I love you Ekko."

"I love you too Y/N"

[swimmingenthusiasty]

Woah. That phrase is nostalgic of school. Fucking stationary. Pencil case.

Every surface is fucking smooth. and flat. The tables the floors the board the field the court the path the brains.

The girls like steaming compost heaps inside uniform. Sterile, kept from dirt and dust, yet somehow gross. Warm and fixed in place behind a desk like the zits and pustules on their face. Insecure eyes darting side to side and only finding each other, other girls to judge. Like some type of layer in hell.

Loosing their shit over 'guys' who are all mummy's boys at that age. Yelling over their egos, mum flavoured cries for approval. Repeating mum's script. The asian one talking about a 'gud future' it was just what mum said. The stickler worried about safety was just mum's script. Literal fucking babies. With egos. Because those are the two things that mums make. Babies and egos. It's like full circle for the girls looking because nothing less conceited would have sufficed.

There's no patriarchy. Guys stop moving without egos. Without someone to hype them up. If guys want to function without girls, they will invent women amongst themselves to hype them up. If you want dad to keep going to work and mum does a shit job of hyping him up, you better find a way fast. Either you become like a girl and hype or you get used to making your own home. If she insists that you just can't do that and you can't say no because you're still a mommy's boy and her script overrides yours. Then I hope you like lacey stuff. There was one more thing. Oh, this is when I knew it was him. Women created guys like this because of the way they are with eachother. The way they compete and stuff but always indirectly, through a middle thing. That's why they made men.

This is brother's air. Before he leaves for work is when he has the most to give and he only gives when he sees something in my messages. Doesn't make it less true. I mean i don't know if it is fully correct. I'm like a windchime at this point. Anyone you put me near, I'll make a noise to their presence, to their movements, to the air they displace. Guys usually make writing happen though. Girls will make something actually happen.

If I really wanted I can take with me this feeling about -not being a guy's hype prop by releasing my concern for finances and a place to sleep, for stability. Not stability itself but my concern over it.

She wanted me to replace him in her life, to earn for her in his place and she'd go gut whatever he'd had left without holding back. Mistakes me for him often like it already happened in her mind. Like there was no need to ask. She put me between them when I was little and said I should defend when they fought. I think she also liked cucking when they were good. I think she's a bit gay the way she talks about little girls and women's thighs. I don't know if that means I got it from her, like passed down or if I reacted to how gross she was being. Anyway. All that to say that the next time I'll say 'okay burn the house down if you like' when she tries to make herself your problem (her moods and emotions are hers) or her lifestyle your fault (her lack of lasting friendships does not make you a mandatory friend forever, you're no different to all the other people who wouldn't want to stay) or insists her decisons are your decisons (all those times you say something and get ignored, it wasn't hard to hear what you said, she didn't forget that quick. It's up to you to decide how much respect you want) but then that's no way to practice having a house and any fight or playing up will get a crowd. It's hard to affirm without resorting to disrespect when someone is actually dismisive and disrespectful. I can see how their conversations always went the same. She got what she gave. Then that carries over into other conversations. Or you just feel a bit sad and resentful at real kindess, and i've seen it on my father's face. Like he's thinking oh I have to get used to this now? Where were you this whole time. You're only temporary, it's her shit that I'm used to, we'll be back in the shit and you'll be gone, so just be gone early as a favor. It's not just her. He attracted her from a lifetime of the same shits. It made him more than rough around the edges as a consequence and I've gone through all that's like and I wouldn't want to repeat what he felt or how he became. Input output. Change his input, don't have the same shit he had.

All this sympathy towards him. Told you it was the brother. He misunderstands that's why he thinks I need to think this stuff. I need these people to take back their issues. Him you can't tell him anything other than you're hurt, you need to work on yourself. You're allowed to tell someone enough and they should leave. You don't need a million and one ways to push people away. Some are really hurtful. She was at fault when you said enough and she just smirked that you reacted and looked a fool infront of your house. Now for her, you really can't tell her anything. That's why it's taken so long to peel her off. But being here is because he failed me. I went to him, to be my lifeline IF I needed the van sold. End of story. He betrayed himself so often that he just wanted someone else to take the shit. That's why he called her seconds after he hung up and promised me he wouldn't. That's not exactly why though. There's something severly damaged about him from that last disrespect. She went to his last respectable friendship source, the guy she couldn't dis, undisputed source of respectability amongst both of them and the guy called and shamed him. It's like how the guy at the end of 1984 broke. He will just do anything after that. To appease his opressor. My father had a right to a boundary that she could not cross. He is helping by staying away. He is preventing himself from further betrayal. He is of no use to either of us in this fight. Let me finish and if I betray myself it won't be his influence. Don't fuck bears next time pa pap.

Think of leaving and that's how I know brother's air is wrapping up. It always shows up at the end as what he wants. So stressed to see the car parked, room taken up. Doesn't make it the wrong decision necessarily. Im pretty sure i could sneak guys around in the morning. To help line her up. So they want the same thing. I couldn't get him to line up with her though. I can ask for more stuff, room back, more space in the garden, hang around the house a lot. Though I still think he'd stay and get more sabotagey. It's what he's practiced. More foreign for him to get a place. More familiar to ruin something that's around. I get nothing from a fight. I don't want to have the house, I don't like to be here all the time. I can visualise him moving out. Like he does. But again, for what? I would gladly exchange the feelings for them for something good towards myself. It's just that the best way to do that is not clear cut. Everyone did the best they could with what they had. You can't choose them. If however she chose you to be her backup financial plan that's something but not at all uncommon. If she fought hard to hold you back so she wouldn't be alone then that is also not unheard of in love.

It's about learning about these behaviours from others and knowing better and also, unfortunately, it's about undoing hangups they might have caused. If they weren't undoable, many unfortunate consequences are permanent. It becomes a question of acceptance and if you accept will it also define your direction? Will you do something with it, every. single. day.

Early bird gets the moon

Lake Elkhorn, Maryland.

📷: @zalman_waihaus

[minisugakoobies]

It's You - Choi San | All Yours

Pairing: San x Reader Genre: smut, crack, fluff, angst, roommates to lovers, BFF’s Lil Bro!AU Series Rating: M (18+) Drabble Warnings: sneaking around continues, this is just a very soft little holiday gift from me to you, San remains the sweetest and OC remains fully whipped for him Word Count: about 900 words Disclaimers: SFW, obviously I don’t own ATZ - they just inspire me

Summary: He was only supposed to be a temporary roommate. Your best friend’s little brother, crashing on your couch for a few weeks. That’s it. How did this happen?

A/N: All San wants for Christmas is Noona 🥰 I hope you all have a wonderful holiday season if you celebrate and if you don't then I hope you have a lovely day ❄️

Taglist is open! Reblog, comment, or send me an ask to be added! You can also send me any ideas/thoughts you might have for a future scenario - who knows, it might end up in a drabble! 💕

It’s You Masterlist 🐈‍⬛ ATZ Masterlist 🐈‍⬛ Main Masterlist

It's late on Christmas Eve when the last of your family finally leaves, and you can excuse yourself from your parents and lock yourself in your bedroom. It's late, so late that you consider for a moment not calling, but you're pretty sure San's still up. He'd made you promise him several times that you would call him today. But you've been too busy dealing with nosy aunts and loud cousins at the family party to do it any earlier.

It's late, but it doesn't matter. He's as happy to see you as you are him, his dark eyes crinkling in delight, and then his smile turns shy, like he's embarrassed at how much just the sight of you lights him up inside.

There's no reason for him to be embarrassed. Your glow mirrors his.

You don't want to hang up long enough to wash your face, so he joins you at the sink. You glance at the screen while drying your face to see him delicately scrubbing his skin with sudsy fingertips, and he sees you and pulls a face, making you giggle. It almost feels like a normal night, hanging out together. Almost. You sigh.

"I miss you."

San surprises you by looking surprised at your admission.

"What? Is that news to you?" It shouldn't be. The two of you haven't stopped texting since you'd left the apartment three days ago to head home for Christmas. San and his sister had left as well to have a quiet holiday with their parents. Since then, you've had to invent a million excuses to slip away from your family and disappear into your phone. The device has barely left your hand, every alert making your heart jump, knowing San is thinking about you as much as you're thinking about him.

"No," San scoffs, face relaxing into a pleased expression, a soft half-smile that fully melts your heart. "Of course you miss me. I'm amazing."

"Nah, I changed my mind, I don't miss you," you say, pretending to frown, and San plays along, pouting dramatically, and you can't help but sigh again. "Okay, fine, I do."

"You always give in to me so easy, Noona," he informs you, that spark back in his eye, the one that makes your stomach flip. "I think I’m your weakness."

He's joking, except maybe he's not, and you both know it. You settle in your bed, burrowing under the layers of covers, shivering because your personal heater is several hundred miles away. San does the same, lying on his side as he gazes into the phone, humming lightly. If you close your eyes, it’s like he’s lying right beside you.

The two of you chat a little about your days. His was spent watching holiday movies with Hanuel while his parents prepared a big dinner together for the four of them. You talk a little about your extended family and the chaos they brought to your house today. 

This is the happiest you’ve felt all day. Even when having fun with your family earlier, you’d felt a little off, like something was missing. Making San laugh now, watching those delicate lines around his eyes crinkle with joy, fills you with such a strong contentment that you can’t stop smiling. 

San’s laughter turns to amused hums the longer you talk, and he nestles lower and lower into his pillow until his eyes are struggling to stay open. You don’t even bother to finish your story, too busy adoring the sight of him. 

"Go to sleep, San. Or Santa won't bring you what you wanted."

“Mmm,” he yawns, pressing one hand over his mouth, “but Noona, all I want is you.”

“I knew you were going to say that,” you roll your eyes, giggling.

“It’s true,” he protests, quickly growing serious, “it’s true, though. I wish you were here right now.” 

You sigh. “Stop making me miss you so much.”

Both of you fall silent, watching each other through the phone. There’s a tension now, and it makes you nervous for some reason, and there’s only one thing you can think to say to clear the air. You’re not sure if it’s the right thing to say, but it’s the truth and you really want to share it all of a sudden.

“You already have me, you know.” 

You’ve known for weeks now. Weeks full of longing glances, lingering touches, and hurried kisses -  and sometimes more, in the rare moments the two of you had the apartment to yourselves. It’s time to admit it.

San takes your confession with a long silence of his own. Just when you think you’re about to have a cardiac event waiting for his response, he speaks. “I do?”

You nod. “If you want me. I’m all yours.” Can he hear your heart pounding through the phone?

San exhales quickly. “Mine.”

It’s an agreement. A declaration. 

He traces his finger down his screen, pretending he’s stroking your cheek, and your skin buzzes from the mere suggestion. A warmth like you've never felt before spreads over you, soft and tender, so like the man gazing at you through the phone. 

Tiredness begins to tug at you. Only one more sleep ‘til Christmas, then one more ‘til you’re back home.

And back in San’s arms. 

"Merry Christmas, San," you whisper.

"Merry Christmas," he echoes softly. "Sweet dreams, Noona."

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

Taglist: @sweetnspicy-noona @krystal-a @jennylychee @hiefisch

© 2023-24 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my work.

[rei-ismyname]

Logan shouldn't be allowed near children

I know that's a loaded title but I stand by it. There's obviously an element of Flanderisation going on but considering his stated reason for opening the Jean Grey school he is far too eager to murder children.

Why TF is he leaping at children, snarling with his claws out? Check out the frothing drool.

For example, in All-New X-Men, the O5 have just been bought to the future by Hank McCoy. He stops teaching his violence through yelling class and heads out the front, leaping at the 16 year olds with his claws out. Not Hank, who brought them there but clearly traumatised children - while screaming like a lunatic of course. Even if he's not trying to kill them, what purpose does terrifying them serve? He clearly IS trying to kill them, though. I'm sure his students would love to see their headmaster butcher confused children in front of them.

Unsurprisingly, he scares the fuck out of them. In part influenced by constant threats of his violence, the O5 steal the X-Jet and flee, explicitly doubting this guy is an X-Man. His thoughts about the 16 year old Jean Grey... No dude, this isn't the Jean you know. She's a child you've tried to kill. Fucking creep.

This one is great. Young Scott has enough going on without this frothing beast advocating for his immediate execution as punishment for his future self's actions. Out front of the school with literally everyone watching. He's using his authority to advocate for slaughtering a child. Thankfully nobody agrees with him, but this is traumatic, terrifying, and affects Scott especially so badly he runs away.

No wonder he freaks out and leaves. Obviously the headmaster of a school should drop what he's doing, not for his wellbeing but to get his bike back. How is he in charge of anyone's wellbeing or moral instruction? He demands absolute obedience while doing nothing to deserve it. It's all about how Logan feels.

Here he is trying to gut a 15 year old Wiccan for having Scarlet Witch vibes, not for the or last time. I'm a little surprised he remained an Avenger after this. When you have knives for hands everyone looks like a pincushion. Except that's not it, because everyone else is a living weapon too and they mostly manage to be somewhat rational.

Why are his claws out here? Is he trying to kill him? What did he expect after threatening and traumatizing him? Snarling and shouting like an animal - isn't he trying to emulate Chuck here?

I can't remember why he's doing this but it's not the first time he's tried to kill Hope. Didn't work then either.

A 16 year old Jean uses a telepathic projection of the Phoenix to aid Wolverine in a fight. He stupidly thinks it's real and straight up tries to kill her. The bad guys get away. Not sure how many times he has to attempt to kill the Phoenix before he understands it's not an appropriate thing to do, nor is it about him. He's more like Sabertooth than he thinks, except he thinks he's in the right and somehow never gets called out. Logan has advanced senses - how is his instinct to straight up kill her instead of investigating further?

We can do better

I think that once Logan reached a certain point of saturation he became static. The lone wolf that's the best there is at what he does, and what he does is behave so unpleasantly it's hard to believe anyone would want to be near him, let alone allow him to run a school. He says 'bub' a lot and he snikts at the drop of a hat while repeating the same interpersonal drama over and over. I see him as a frequent self insert for the worst kind of toxic masculinity yet he's more popular than ever. No judgement if you like him at all, but I think the character deserves better. Somehow he's still a misunderstood loner despite a lot of people knowing him very well - with the amount of teams and books he's in he has the most active social life in 616. It'll never happen but I'd like to see him retire, as there are several Wolverines better than he..